There has been a recent development of a new kind of digital Bible. It is more than just words in digital form, it is also resources and topical guides. After reading and discussing an interview with the creator of this software, it got me really thinking.

The motivation for creating this specific type of software is that it is bringing God’s Word into the technological vernacular of society. After pondering for a while as to whether that is just a justification for this new software, or a legit reason to move the Bible to the digital world I began thinking about what people were thinking when the printing press began printing Scripture on paper so that the Average Joe could afford their own copy.

Of course in that context it was probably healthy because it got people reading God’s Word on their own and away from the tyranny of the brainwashing church at that time. But then I wonder if there were still skeptics out there. Just as bringing the Bible into the digital world takes away the physical presence of the Bible, so does the printing press take away the sociable aspect of reading the Bible.

Think about it, in Jesus’ day there weren’t enough copies of the Torah to be owned by everyone. People would go to the synagogue to hear Scripture. That no longer needs to happen because we all own our own Bible (and if you’re in Bible college you probably have at least three of your own). Sure we have Biblestudies maybe once a week, or biweekly, and then we have church every week...but how often do we really get together with people to open up Scripture?

We’re always told that we need to spend time alone reading Scripture. But is that 100% accurate? Could they even do that in Jesus' or Paul’s time? Where did this concept of “daily devotions” come from? Is it even Scriptural? Or did I miss that passage of Scripture that covered it?

All I do know is that time spent with God daily is necessary. But that can be done in more ways than just reading Scripture alone. It can be done through prayer and worship as well.

I am not trying to put down daily devotions or reading the Bible on your own. There is absolutely nothing wrong with daily reading the Word. In fact it is probably wise. Just be careful. The pharisees were daily in the Bible as well. Afterall I know some people who can read the Bible and never encounter God. And that, my friends, is not achieving the proper goal.

There really was no conclusion I was attempting to come to. I was just mulling over the thought of the Bible only being available in a sociable setting in Jesus’ time. It just got me thinking a little I suppose.

I guess the main conclusion I come to is that we should focus on reading the Bible more in group settings. I don’t think we do it enough. And I don’t know about you but I tend to think more carefully when reading and discussing the Bible with other people. It's certainly not bad to read the Bible on our own, but I think it's also good to read the Bible with other people. When you discuss things you bounce ideas off each other and you tend to share more meaning you tend to learn more.

So my questions that are up for discussion...
Is it better to read the Bible on your own, or with other people?
Would God prefer it one way or the other, or are both equally as glorifying to God?

Every plant has a story. A story of survival. A story of endurance. And a story of flourish. Because in order for a plant to prosper in the harvest, it must endure the winter.

This is a story of a plant who hadn’t blossomed in the summer, nor the summer previous. In fact, this plant had yet to blossom and grow flowers. As the days grew colder, and the wind brought on a chill, this plant was determined to blossom. Clearly, it thought, the warm summer days were not it’s harvest time therefore it should try as hard as it can to blossom in the autumn.

Day after day staying alive became harder and harder. The rain no longer refreshed it’s leaves reaching out for a drink, now it stung as each drop splattered onto the plant. Slowly the plant’s leaves would begin to wither and curl, but by now the rain became softer and gentler. No longer did the rain sting as it fell, now it was numbing as it gently came to a rest as each snowflake landed upon the leaves.

“This must be a sign,” thought the plant “that this is the season for my harvest.”

Despite the cold the plant stretched out it’s leaves to catch sun and snow. Nourishment as difficult to gather as the leaves wanted to retract to stay warm, but the plant was determined. The plant was sure it had flowers to blossom if only it could find the right season to yield them.

But as the bitter days continued the leaves on the plant grew stiff. As it retracted it’s leaves at night to keep warm they began to crack and break. But the plant was determined. It just had to wait longer, for determination is a mark of success.

But week after week it’s leaves grew more and more brittle. One morning the plant found it could not stretch out it’s leaves to gather nutrients. The time had come for the winter to win as the plant withered away. The plant had retreated back to the ground with all it’s half broken leaves. And as soon as it did the sun appeared again. And without hesitation the plant sprung back up.

“This must be my harvest season,” thought the plant.

Now had the plant retreated to the ground before winter, it might have survived this early spring weather. But being badly scorned from the cold snow, the plant with broken and cracked leaves had little left to catch enough nourishment to survive. Within weeks the plant withered away to one last broken leaf. Realizing the pain and failure the plant had endured it decided to give up and retreat once more to the ground.

This time, the plant was determined to stay there. The plant had now attempted to flourish in all seasons, and none of them produced flowers. Maybe the plant was not meant to produce sweet smelling blossoms like the rest. Maybe someday it will come above ground, but for now the plant decided to remain in the dirt of the ground.

One summer’s day the plant decided to reappear. This time accepting the fact that no blossom’s would appear. The plant decided to grow and heal it’s broken leaves instead. It would stretch out it’s luscious green leaves proudly knowing that is all it will ever grow.

But this summer was different. Maybe the sun was brighter. Maybe the rain was fresher. Maybe the air was cleaner. Whatever it was, the plant grew quickly and proudly. Although some remained broken as a reminder of the scorn, most of it’s leaves had healed and flourished.

Along with it’s strengthened leaves a weird addition was growing from the stem. Something the plant never felt before. At first it was scary and the plant wanted to retreat in fear of it being a disease of some sort. But the plant was curious. It didn’t feel painful, it just felt different.

With each day the addition grew taller and rounder and pressure began to build up within it. The plant expected it to hurt and waited for it to cause harm, but it never did. As the growth increased in pressure it simply grew in size to compensate.

And one bright sunny day a layer from the addition peeled back with such grace. The next day another layer on the opposite side of the almond shaped growth curled back. This time the peeled back layer revealed something hidden inside. The plant did not know exactly what it was, or how this was happening, all it knew was that this was good. This was very good.

As each layer day after day peeled back to reveal what was inside, the pressure that was built up seemed to seep out in such a sweet aroma that soared as the wind picked it up. Still unsure as to what it was growing inside this bud, the plant was happy. Not just because it was blossoming something, but because of the beauty the blossom would someday reveal in full bloom. It may not be able to be seen just yet, but it’s there. It just needs time to grow and flourish before it is fully revealed.

This, for sure, was the true season of harvest for the plant.

The first part of this entry was taken from the archives of about 9-10 months ago. The second part is an addition to the same story. The third part is the final conclusion to the story.

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Once upon a time a little girl lived in this beautiful house with a wide open yard and luscious green grass.

Now the neighborhood was full of dogs that would often run around between different open yards; some dogs would stop by and interact with the little girl, while others would just run by and mind their own business. The only thing they all had in common was traipsing through the yard leaving her once tall and untouched grass now worn down and withered.

After a while the young girl decided to build a fence to keep her yard clean and safe. But to ensure she didn’t block out all the friendly dogs, she left a gate in which she could swing open and close.

Now as the girl was walking about around the town there was one particular dog who would follow her and play with her in the park, and soon became a real companion. Occasionally she decided to invite the dog into her yard after it would walk her home, but every time the dog would stop at the gate and go no further.

The little girl wondered why this was and decided the fence must be too terrifying for the dog. So one night the little girl took an axe and demolished the fence surrounding her yard so that she could share her yard with the friendly dog. Still the dog would stop where the gate once was and would not enter into her yard.

The little girl was sad at this and began leaving the dog some treats in hopes that he would one day feel comfortable to join her in her yard. The next morning the little girl awoke to find the dog bowl empty, but still the dog would stop where the gate once was. After several days of leaving out treats and no response from the dog, the dog disappeared.

The little girl was devastated. She did everything she could to let the dog know that it was okay to come in and play in the yard with her, and all he did was leave. So one night the little girl decided to rebuild the fence to at least keep her from expecting the dog to come in and visit.

Finally the dog would appear waiting at the gate for the little girl to come out into the neighborhood. The little girl was so pleasantly surprised and decided to this time break down the swinging gate to leave a forever open whole in the fence for the dog to come in. Once more the dog would not enter the yard, and after many days and weeks disappeared again.

Hurt and confused, the little girl didn’t know what to do. She always thought that this friendly dog wanted to come in and play in her beautiful yard but every time she gave him the chance he refused.

After much thinking, the girl realized a fence wasn’t good enough. She didn’t want to keep the friendly dog out, but somehow she had to stop herself from expecting the dog to come in and play in her yard. She figured the best solution would be to build a tall, thick wall in which she knew no dog could enter past.

The girl knew it may hurt to cut off all the other friendly dogs from ever coming into her yard, but it was much easier than constantly trying and waiting for the dog to do what she now knew he would never do. The protective wall, now built high, would provide her comfort and freedom from rejection and pain.

---------------------
Months Later
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That girl once pained by rejection had begun to live comfortably within the tall walls. Somehow being walled off from the world, she felt comfortable and free. Eventually she began hanging artwork on the walls to give them a homey and permanent feel. These walls were not to be destroyed, they were meant to protect her for the rest of her life.

After time went by the little girl broke noticed some cracks in the walls surrounding her. She probably would have gone to repair them, but she liked being able to see the outside world. She simply enjoyed watching the neighborhood dogs play in nearby yards. After all, the cracks were too small for even the smallest of pups to squeeze through, so the wall still protected her from pain.

But what the little girl did not foresee was that as these unrepaired cracks allowed her to see the dogs outside her walls, they also allowed the dogs to see her. Maybe it didn’t cross her mind because she assumed no dog would bother looking at a yard when next door was an open yard with well kept grass to play in. But she was wrong.

One day she noticed a dog peering back at her through the cracks. Quickly she turned around to go back into her house and shut the blinds. The dog must have been lost or confused. Why else would it sit and look through the cracks in the wall? Or maybe this dog was just curious. Eventually the little girl got used to the dog peering curiously through the cracks. But as soon as she got her hopes up, she remembered what happened with the last dog and shrugged it off. As soon as his curiosity was fed, he too would abandon her. It was just a matter of time.

But day after day the dog returned contentedly peering through the cracks. He didn’t seem to want to play in the neighboring yards, rather he wanted to sit and watch her yard from a far. After a time the little girl began looking out through the cracks in her wall, not at the other yards full of friendly dogs, but at the one dog sitting happily outside her wall.

As weeks went on the cracks in her wall began to grow. Noticing this tragedy she grabbed her tools to begin repairing the wall, but she couldn’t lift a hammer when she noticed that dog looking at her through the wall. The little girl realized that to repair the wall would be to cut off this nice dog that she knew little about. She just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Time and time she tried. She would grab her tools and get them all the ay out to the wall, but as she started to left her arm with the hammer it dropped back down.

One day after failing at repairing the wall she dropped the hammer and quickly grabbed the sledgehammer. For the first time in months her wall was more of a cage than a protector. She still wanted the wall’s protection, but somehow she felt trapped. Her wall could still protect her even if she installed a big window in it...right? Or did she ultimately have to choose between wall and canine?

Day after day the girl would go out to the edge of her wall where her window was located and sit enjoying the company of this new dog. And with each day the cracks continued to grow larger and larger. In order to protect her wall, instead of repairing it she began installing windows all over. The dog may not be able to get in yet, but with each day he was able to see her and her yard all the more.

As she sat and enjoyed her time spent with the dog, the more she began to realize that a choice would have to be made. It was either the dog, or the wall. One could stay, but one would have to go. She tried her best to keep both, but as she did so she felt disconnected and caged. It became painful to have both around. Either she had to repair her wall so she could not see the dog at all and would soon feel safe and free within her walls again, or she had to start taking the wall down so she could let the dog in (as she so longingly wanted to).

With each day the little girl took a piece of the wall away; some small, some large. Some days she would feel unsafe and vulnerable, other days she felt peace and comfort. The little girl had become dependent upon the walls to support and protect her. She forgot that she could find that protection within herself. And maybe, just maybe this dog would not give her a reason to be protected.

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Freedom
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One fateful day, it was down. What once was a tall thick wall, was merely a small hurdle for a friendly dog. She was free. The size of the wall was now only tall enough to keep the pesky rats out. The rest was diminished. It was scary, but it was freeing. It felt great.

But as she looked around the dog just sat there. Peering, as he did when the wall was still there, and not moving. What was merely a small leap for him, he didn't make the effort. He just sat there. And just like the previous dog, he soon vanished.

Maybe he saw all he wanted to see. Maybe he saw something he didn't want to see. Maybe he just didn't want to make that small leap of effort. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. It doesn't matter now. He was gone.

But the girl. She stood there. At first, confused, abandoned (again), and used (again). And her wall was no longer there as protection. But then. Oh yes, and then. She spun around, looking at the world around her. And for the first time in a long time...she truly smiled.

It was never about the wall. The wall was a disguise. She used to be so unhappy and needed something to blame, so she built a wall and blamed it. But as the wall came down...nothing changed. She was only ever looking for happiness.

It was never about the dog. The dog served his purpose. He simply made her happy enough to give her a reason to take down the wall. And when the wall disappeared, so did the dog. Sometimes she thinks the dog was just a figment of her imagination, but he wasn't. He was there...for a brief, curious moment he was there.

But once he disappeared, she realized something. He was not the source of her happiness, he merely reminded her that happiness can exist. And by abandoning her, he reminded her that happiness cannot be found in others, it has to be found in yourself. Relying on others for happiness only leaves you disappointed and in the dust eventually (whether you hope otherwise or not). But despite all the abandonment and disappointment, there is still happiness to be found.


This time, where she found happiness was in herself and in her Creator. No longer does she rely on people or circumstance to be the source of that smile, lit up from true happiness. And where that smile comes from...no one can take that away!

Now there is no wall.
Now there is no dog.
But there is a little girl with the biggest, brightest smile on her face. And it’s there to stay!



And that’s an even better happy ending for this story than she ever planned on having. But wait, this isn’t an ending at all, this is simply a new beginning.
A very happy new beginning...

This is another short piece taken from the archive. I'm guessing it was written around four to five years ago:


I can see it playing clearly on the movie screen inside my head.

My head is leaning on his warm upper chest as we stroll arm in arm down the abandoned street, taking in every moment that swiftly passes us by. The warmth of the sun is decreasing as it begins to meet with the horizon, which blends astonishing pinks and purples across the cloudless sky as a brisk wind starts to pick up. Conversing over our memorable past and our hopeful future, he pulls me in closer to his chest like a one-sided hug and looks down towards me where our eyes meet in a long breathtaking gaze. Our voices seem to fade off into the distance and the houses outlining the street vanish, all I see, feel, and smell; is him. The smell of his cologne fills my nostrils with such a soothing aroma that makes me forget where I am, his right arm stretches across my shoulders with his fingers wrapped around my arm so he can firmly squeeze me closer towards him, and his captivating blue eyes bewitch mine so I can’t even blink, in fear that our gaze will come to an unfortunate resolution.
Looking back on the years proceeding the day I met him, I realize that all the hardships I experienced prepared me for this.

I remember growing up and being told "everyone has an opinion, and everyone has a voice." Well here's my online voice expressing my opinion and vision.

As I go through the process of applying to another school, the question of "what are your career goals" comes up time and time again, though often it is heard in the "what do you want to do with your life" cliche question. I get it from family, friends, mentors, admissions workers, and so on. And the problem is I don't really have an answer.

The only thing that begins to resemble an answer to that question is the vision I have for churches in America. But let me first state why this has become such a strong vision of mine...

I get so frustrated when I look at most churches in America because one of two things seem to happen in regards to using media:
1) They don't even bother using media as a resource because that's too much of a slippery slope. They'd rather avoid using it than having to be intentional about where their focus is.
OR
2) They bring media into the church, it works so well that they use it even more, and they get to the point where they couldn't function without it. Sadly I see some churches getting to the point where they could easily do without Scripture before they could do without media. And that breaks my heart even more.

This saddens me. I really do not think media and Scripture contradict each other at all. So why is it that churches can't seem to have both? Media happens to be the way our future generations are inspired, communicated to, and entertained. Whether you agree with it or not, you cannot hide the fact that our society is becoming (if not there already) dependent upon visual and social media. My question is...why on earth isn't the church capitalizing on that?!

There is so much *junk* out there in media form and it's spreading because visual media intrigues our society! Why don't we have the churches seeing this as a problem and doing something to counteract it? Sorry folks, banning media is not counteracting it. That's just ignoring the problem. It's existence is there either way. Wouldn't it be in the church's best interest to use this powerful communication tool to showcase God's glory?

I just have this vision that a Bible centered church can actually exist with media as a huge form of communication/illustration without getting trapped into focusing on the result rather than the message. (I know, I'm crazy for having such a preposterous vision...but I do.)

So far I haven't been shown that my vision is even remotely possible. Actually, I've mostly been shown how my vision seems to be impossible. But I don't see why.

I want to show the world that media can coexist with a God centered church. Because, believe it or not, media can actually be used to glorify God without having to go overboard. Maybe someday it will just come down to the "if you want it done properly, do it yourself" approach. And if I have to be a part of pioneering a church that has that mindset in order for one to exist...I would be okay with that.

I often wonder if that's one of the reasons I somehow ended up at PBU. Coming to PBU has most importantly given me this need for a Scripture-centered church. I absolutely cannot be satisfied with a church that simply adds Scripture to a message. I need something deeper and more focused than that. I need a church that looks at Scripture and goes "Here's God's message!" rather than the church that knows what they want to say and simply goes "Okay, what Scripture backs up my point?"

But at the same time, God has so clearly given me this love and talent (somewhat mediocre, but talent nonetheless) for media, film, graphic design, and all the digital world has to offer. I see the importance and the influence of it as a communication tool. I see the huge impact it can have on our world. And yet I sit in wonder at why Christians aren't using it.

When you combine that love for media and that foundation of Scripture together, what you get is my vision. My vision of a God-centered church recognizing the influence media can have when used for the true purpose and intent of glorifying God.

Be in the world and use the resource of media, but don't focus on the media itself. Rather, focus on glorifying God through the media.

So what do I actually want do do for a career? I have no idea. All I know is my vision and what I want to see happen. And what I want to see is a church that is using media in a powerful and yet appropriate way. Maybe that means creating my vision will be my career, maybe not. All I know is what I want to see happen, not necessarily what I actually want to pursue as a career.

That is my vision, and this is my voice sharing that vision with you.

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Sidenote: if you know of any churches that are living out my vision, please let me know. It truly would encourage me.

We all know the cliche metaphor where life’s decisions are compared to doors of opportunity; “One door closes, and another door opens.” And I guess there’s some sort of truth in it, but the metaphor has lost it’s luster of youth. It’s overused and redundant. Metaphors should add color to a black and white world, but an overused metaphor is like a faded old tattoo; nothing more than the proof that it once was an original concept bright with color.

That being said I am sorry in advanced for using a cliche metaphor, but maybe I can bring a little color back into it. And if not...well it’s 2am and I should be sleeping so this is the best I can do.



I always pictured those ‘doors of opportunity’ in my mind lined up side by side with half facing the other half all the way down a long hallway that blurred into one single point that my art teacher always referred to as the vantage point. It is the visual implication of continual existence.

And there it is...the basic truth in the metaphor. Life’s opportunities are endless and continuous. No matter where you go every step you take presents you with countless opportunities and new doors waiting to be opened. You simply can’t escape it. It’s a nightmare for the indecisive that unfortunately is as real as can be.

Decisions are a part of life; small ones and big ones. Some of the smaller opportunities may only be windows opening slight breezes of experiences while others may be intimidating double doors offering an entrance into a brand new sector of your life. But each one is a decision whether simple or complicated, minuscule or life changing.

Some people spend their lives standing in front of one door deciding if they should turn the once shiny gold knob that has now rusted away with wasted time...or not. They pace back and forth, back and forth, biting their nails hoping that a decision will be clear before there is no nail left and they end up biting their finger. The paneled flooring has lost it’s shiny glaze finish in the small stretch of their pacing but they still haven’t come to a decision. So they remain there. Not moving in any direction, just back and forth back and forth dwelling one that one decision to make or not make.

Other people enjoy life by prancing through the hallway and pausing only when a shiny door catches their attention and reels them in. It’s living life in the moment and on immediate decisions that thrill their lives. And they never bother with the ordinary looking doors. They know there can’t possibly be any fun living behind those closed doors.

But that is the problem. See the devil has had years, and decades, and centuries of experience on us. He knows how to catch our attention and what will distract us from the decisions we need to be making. Don’t get me wrong, not all of those pretty, shiny, attractive doors are bad. But he’ll definitely make sure his doors of opportunities stand out just as much if not more. All he needs you to do is slow down from your prancing and gallivanting down the hallway long enough to get lured in.

Fish always think they’re in for a great meal when they find that dead worm floating at the surface of the water. Some fish are smart, they take a small bite of the worm to double check the taste and genuinity (not sure if it’s a word, but it is now) of the worm. It’s not always that first nibble that catches them. But once they’ve tasted it they’re good as gone because that second bite will trap them.

That door may be freshly painted. The knob may be newly replaced and shiny. You may even crack the door a little to peek inside. But reality never stands in front of the door, it’s always lurking behind the door waiting for it to swing open and embrace you. So don’t let it fool you.

If that fish only slowed down on it’s way to a surprise dinner it would have seen something odd about the worm cause first of all dead worms don’t float and second of all that grey metal thing sticking halfway through would not be normal. Feel free to go skipping through life and being spontaneous, just make sure you at least slow down long enough to know what your biting into and what knob you’re really turning.

Am I saying the spontaneous person is not as wise as the cautious?

No, because most likely the cautious person is not pacing outside one of those shallow doors that can only promise beauty and enjoyment when looking from the outside. Instead they are probably pacing outside a very sensible decision and instead of making that decision they have been distracted by double guessing themselves over and over again.

Instead of being fooled by what looks like a lucky dinner that is really a trap...they stare at the sunken worm wondering if it's real because it's not floating on the surface like all the others. Cause you know worms don't float, but maybe they do because all the others seem to. Maybe this worm resting on the bottom of the lake is a new type of bait, that a super genius came up with? The overly cautious constantly get bogged down by double, and triple questioning themselves until they talk in circles and don't even remember what their gut feeling was.

What can I say, the devil is one smart trickster.



Did I mean this blog to be pessimistic and hopeless? No. And the reason is this; it is not hopeless.

There’s a simple way to be able to discern and distinguish a good door from a bad one, a lucky dinner, from a trap on a fishing pole. And that is simply to know what opportunities you should be looking for.

If you know what a real drowned worm looks like, you can recognize that the metal hook sticking through it should not be there. If you know what you’re looking for, you can usually recognize when you find it so you don’t have to wear out the glaze finish on the flooring.

More importantly, be familiar with your tour guide. He knows how your life already plays out...you just need to be familiar with his voice, not the trickster's. He'll guide you through it all, but if you don't know what His voice sounds like, or how He communicates with you...you might as well be listening to a clown giving you directions in the new hay maze they built. You wouldn't notice the difference.

Today was the first day for my Doctrine III class. I was surprised by the approach that my professor decided to take on the first class 'lecture.' Instead of summarizing what we covered in past Doctrine classes, or summarizing what we had to look forward to...the entire hour was about logic and probability.

Many of you probably understand how exciting this is to me since I like to strip things down to basic logic. It makes sense, it's reasonable, and therefore must be the best viable option. So to begin heavy topics like the ones we will encounter in Doctrine III (dispensational and premillenial views concerning the doctrine of the church) with logic, I'm intrigued.

But the reason for this blog is not to share in the excitement of the approach my professor is taking at discussing these topics. No, the reason I am blogging is because I want to unpack, think through, and discuss with you a profound point he was coming to in his lecture.


We cannot 'know' anything as it refers to absolute certainty. We can only 'know' as it refers to higher probability.


Now many would see that statement and dismiss it right away saying "Of course there are absolute certainties. For example I am absolutely certain that if I jump as high as I can, I will also land back upon the ground due to gravity." But even in physics and science, anomalies occur.

You can never be absolutely certain that an anomaly will not happen at that very instant. All you can really say is, "Based upon my presuppositions of how gravity works there is an extremely high probability that I will land back on the ground." Due to unforeseen anomalies possibly occurring in any given situation, it is impossible to be absolutely certain of anything.

I know for Christians, scientists, and anyone else who claim and believe that absolutes exist may disagree with the previous paragraph at first glance. But I am not..let me repeat...I am NOT concluding that there are no absolutes.

I am not supporting the post modern thought that there are no absolutes and therefore everything is relative. That is a bunch of hogwash, and is the most illogical thing I have ever heard.

Logic tells me that absolutes must exist because otherwise our world would not be able to function. It also tells me that absolutes cannot contradict each other. For example if a=b and b≠c then a≠c. It would not make any logical sense for a=c under the previously given absolutes. Therefore there must be one overlying umbrella of truth that encompasses all absolutes.

This is where it gets tricky. If we cannot know the absolutes, though they do exist, how and why are we supposed to seek truth in any and everything we do? All we really can do is see the evidences before us, and choose the highest probable option.

It eventually all goes back to a source of truth and standard. We can come to conclusions all we want, but if our presuppositions in our standard of truth is inaccurate your foundation will eventually crumble.

People may find that standard in different places; science, Koran, Bible...the list goes on and on and on. BUT like I said there can only be one all encompassing truth, logic does not leave room for more than one standard of truth in which all absolutes fall under.

We can come to conclusions all we want but we will never know if our presuppositions are absolutely, without a doubt, accurate. Again, all we can do is see the evidences and proof before us and make a decision based upon the highest probable option. This is exactly what Martin Luther did when he stood up against the Catholic Church.

Martin Luther presupposed that Scripture is the source of truth. He constantly went back to Scripture to search for the highest probable absolute, and could only be persuaded otherwise by that very source and standard of truth. Even when he was pressured to recant his beliefs he said:

“Here it is, plain and unvarnished. Unless I am convicted of error by the
testimony of Scripture or by manifest reasoning, I stand convicted by the
Scriptures to which I have appealed, and my conscience is taken captive
by God's word, I cannot and will not recant anything...On this I take my
stand. I can do no other.” -- Diet of Worms 1521

So I guess my question to you is, where do you find your source of truth? Do you construct all of your logic off of that foundation or do you find yourself having to contradict yourself? There is only one source of truth and that truth will never contradict itself. If you contradict yourself either your logic is flawed or your foundation is not the true source of truth.

Test your foundation, see if it holds.


* * *
I hope I have accurately communicated my point without contradicting myself. When talking about logic it is easy to get caught walking in circles, hopefully I did not end up doing that. I tried my best not to.

If you find a flaw in my reasoning please let me know. Also, I am curious to hear any and all thoughts...especially those that disagree with anything I said because you'll be more critical and honest about my presuppositions and logic. :)

I've recently decided that I absolutely love music made by the undiscovered musicians of the world.
1. I love being one of the few to discover the talent before they go big (cause some actually have).
2. There's quality in their motivation.


The reason they make music is because they love it and want to share it. It's not about what they're getting from their artistry. You lose quality when all you're focused on is what you get, not what you love and can share.

You can see this all throughout life; music, movies, business deals, products, and so on. The most attractive product or deal or entertainment is generally the one that was made because they wanted to share it, not because they want your money.

But the thing that hit me is that although we know this fact, we don't always live it!

I'm not saying that I live completely for what I get...but I do so enough for it to be a problem. I love living my life for Christ...but I love it even more when He sends some blessings my way. In reality the quality of the way I live my life should remain the same whether God is pouring out blessings on me or not.

A musician that creates just to reach the Top 10 Hits just doesn't have the same quality of motivation as the musician who loves what they do. The songs may be just as catchy, but there's a difference when you start picking them apart. Their genuineness is vastly different; the musician seeking popularity writes for his/her audience, whereas the musician who loves what he does writes because he/she has a song to be heard.

Christians are no different. If you're living simply for the blessings and those "rewards in Heaven," then you're just as empty as a musician living for money and popularity! That's right, you're just like one of those millionaires who could care less about the people around him because all you do is collect blessings. Harsh...but the truth. You're lacking that quality of motivation and genuineness, and I can't imagine God would be thrilled about that.

The world tells us that it doesn't matter how it's done...it's all about the result. I beg to differ. I say that the result reflects the motivation behind it. A lack of genuine motivation is reflected in the results whether you like it or not.


What do the results of your life and your accomplishments reflect about you?
Do you live they way you do because you love it, or do you live the way you do because of what you get out of it?

It's a stinger...but I hope you let it resonate, because only then can you reflect on it. And only through reflection can you determine how to change.




Sidenote: Here's where I promote some of the undiscovered musicians...
Joy Whitlock, He is We, Seven Story Fall, & You Me At Six.
You can find them all (and more) on purevolume.com

These poems are not mine, they were posted (though not created) by a friend and I am now reposting them here to share with others. I thought they were rather profound and unique. Rarely we see both sides of the coin, and yet it is important to see both and not one...



Bride's Poem:

Do you qualify to be the man I need you to be?
Will you be able to recognize the things you need to see?
Will you be able to understand,
that I'm a good woman and in my life I need a good man?
Do you qualify?

Do you qualify to fertilize my unproduced seeds?
Can you fulfill, as I can, all of our needs?
Can you put me in my place if you see I am slippin'?
Can you talk to me, wholeheartedly? Not constantly trippin'?
Do you qualify?

Do you qualify to be called all mine?
Can you leave the other women and temptations behind?
Can you come to me with your problems and not wait until it's too late?
Can you stand up and admit if you made a mistake?
Do you qualify?

Do you qualify to be the Honest Ebony Man I would want you to be?
Would you be able to look me in my eyes and admit your feelings to me?
Could you take me in your arms and make love to me all night long?
Can you be sensitive and still be strong?
Do you qualify?

Do you qualify to be my friend as well as my lover?
Can you put our love before any other?
Can you cherish me as if I were diamonds & gold?
Can you make me feel like I'm the last woman you'll ever hold?
Do you qualify?

Do you qualify to be called a good man?
If I have doubts can you reassure me and understand?
Can your love intoxicate me as if I were high?
To be in my life, I need to know...DO YOU QUALIFY?


Groom's Response:

You ask, do I qualify.
Can I fulfill your needs and become the man you need me to be?
My darling, are you prepared for what you've asked for?
Can you handle the responsibility?

Can you accept that, by GOD, I am the chosen one,
the authority, the comforter, and the head?
Will you submit and willingly follow my path?
Or will you fight with me instead?

If I am your king, will you treat me as such?
Will I get the best of your beauty and poise?
Or will I be subjected to an appearance neglected,
and checked with some serious noise?

When I talk, will you listen? I mean wholeheartedly, and feel me?
Or will you rush me just to make your point too?
Can I be the man at all times? Even when it hurts?
Or is it just when it's convenient for you?

Can you love me for me, and not who you wish I could be?
Will you see the strong man within?
Or will you always remind me of the all the past guys
behind me and make me pay for their sins?

If I don't send you flowers the day your co-worker received some,
will you know that I love you still?
Or will my good name be uttered along with those other doggish men?
Will you question if my commitment is real?

Will you be patient and teach me to understand you,
and allow my knowledge of your needs to grow?
Or will you shut me out when I ask, "Baby what's wrong?"
Or will you respond with, "Well a REAL MAN would know!"

When we first met, what was it that caught your eye?
Was it my mind, my heart, my personality?
Or was it my suit, or my job?
Or do you love what I drive, instead of what's driving me?

Yes I can, and I will, make love to you
From midnight to the dawning of the sun.
But, if I tell you I'm tired will you trust I'm sincere?
Or believe that there must be another one?

My darling, I love you and my heart can be yours.
No woman could lead me astray.
But like you, I have needs, so I beg of you, please,
in this love thing, meet me half way.

In life's tough times I'll hold you, in the rough times I'll mold you;
your simplest wish will be my command.
My life is yours if need be, yes you can fully bleed me,
and when hell comes, in your place, I'll stand.

A good relationship is a powerful institution
that must be built on a foundation of two
So to answer your question, YES, darling, I do qualify.
Now, more importantly...do you?

I may have grown up in the church, but that does not mean it makes logical sense for me to be where I am today. From the outside it may seem predictable, but not when you take a closer look. So many times I look back at junior high and high school, and wonder how I ended up here, because reason says I shouldn't.


For those of you who don't know...I grew up in a family that was highly involved in the church. I knew full well growing up that church was not just for Sunday. It was also for AWANA clubs on Friday nights and Jr. Choir on Wednesday later adding Youth Group and Biblestudy on Thursday nights. My whole family was fairly involved, if not very involved.

But don't let it fool you, that preface does not mean the rest of this story is a wishy washy brainwashing happy story. Through elementary and middle school I loved the church, the people, and the message. It truly was my second home. I loved everything about it. But that soon changed. I guess that's what happens when you ask God for a more colorful testimony...(which I did once upon a time, and I don't recommend it. haha)

Eighth grade I wanted nothing to do with the church, I only went because my friends were there. To the outside viewer it seems typical that a junior higher should rebel, but this was not a rebellion phase, this was because I was hurt. I was hurt by two youth leaders, and everything they were a part of seemed fake. To put a long story short I turned suicidal when the confusion wouldn’t end.

Through the bravery of a close friend I got through it, alive. Somehow I found myself returning to the church, despite my closest friends having nothing to do with God. Often times I wonder why didn’t I follow with them? Why didn't I stay in that crowd of friends. They were good friends of mine that to this day I still miss them. But somewhere we drifted apart, in a short span of time.

High school came around, and I met new friends. See that’s the thing about having such a big graduation class, I rarely got to see my middle school friends though we went to the same building every day. As I was part of the church again I brought those new friends to youth group...but it didn’t stick. My friends weren't against it, they just didn't care for it. So why did I? At this point the only good friends I had at youth group were one year behind and still in junior high. Why did I get involved in the high school Biblestudy; this place that hurt me, and only had but one friend there? It didn’t make sense.

Over time I came to be close friends with the older kids in youth group and once again I found a home at church. Confusion and pain left in the past, I was moving forward.

Until 2005.

It should have been my shining year. It was the year I went on an international missions trip, fear aside, without anyone I knew and I was only sixteen. It was a great trip, despite the two heart-wrenching funerals previous to my leaving, and I came back so energized!

But my excitement with the church didn't last when the rest of 2005 played out. Within two weeks of my missions trip, my Grandpa died. I questioned God but, remaining energized from my missions trip, I still found a home at church. Well, until four more funerals followed that is.

Going to a funeral nearly once a month for a full year, that will add fear and confusion to one’s faith. I questioned so many things and eventually told God I could do this on my own. He wasn’t helping any, so I would finally grab control. And without hope to calm my fears, I needed something to get rid of the pain.

I promised myself I would never turn to suicide again, so I had to find a different route. I knew running away wouldn’t solve any pain, but slamming my fist on a brick wall would help only occasionally. And that’s how it started. After that came punching my leg and slapping a rubber-band on my wrist, until that wasn’t enough. Next came the blade I carried in my pocket.

If, somehow, you’re still thinking it made some shard of sense for me to be in the church because I’ve grown to call it home...you’re wrong. I felt abandoned by my ignorant church friends and though I lost my knife at one point , I remember borrowing scissors AT church because that was the sharpest thing that I knew I could locate.

The church was once again a place of pain for me. The only reason I kept going to youth group during those months was to keep up appearances. I knew if I didn’t my parents would ask questions, and they were already in pain from my grandparents’ deaths I couldn’t let them know I wasn’t strong enough to handle it.

I should have made the dumbest decisions of my life in those months. And honestly I wanted to. I recall telling some of my school friends how much I wanted to and despite being shocked they were excited and waiting for open opportunities for me. But every time it appeared an opportunity arose, so did something that got in it's way. I assure you I would have taken advantage of those opportunities, but praise God I was never given the chance.

To people who ask how I got hope and found a refuge in God once more instead of hating Him and hating myself...I still don’t have an answer. One day, God came and met me where I was at. The addiction of cutting ended, and so did my depression. Was everything perfect? No. But this time, instead of finding a home at the church, I found a home in God.

The church can't save you, but God can. That's where you can, and should, put your faith. The church can and will fail you, after all it's comprised of sinners. God is where your faith and hope should lie. And I wasn't secure until that's where I placed mine.


Those are just the big stories in my life, there are so many little ones and so many details in these stories left out. Neither of those tragic paths should end up leading me back to God, let alone both of them combined.

So here I am, close to graduating from college. A Christian college. Not to mention, a Bible college where most of my classes were spent studying Scripture. Going through what I did and ending up where I am makes no sense without coming to one specific conclusion. I didn't do it on my own. God loves me even when I don’t love Him, He protects me even when I won’t let Him, and He exists even when I don’t want Him to.

A couple days ago I took my cat to the vet. The diagnosis was not what I wanted to hear, but he said Ringo had maybe 2 months to live. And that when it was his time he would go away and hide. Seemed logical...only because I know most pets do that.

But today when I woke up and Ringo was nowhere to be seen worry set in. We nearly tore the house apart looking in every nook and krany. We thought he was hiding because he wanted to be unfound as he was dying. Eventually my mom found him in the backyard luckily...and with a prize mole.

It made me wonder. Why on earth would he hide when he's sick? It makes logical sense from his standpoint I guess, he doesn't want people to see him in pain, deal with his body...and so on. But for me, I'd rather he stay here...to keep an eye on him, make him as comfortable as possible, and so forth.

Then it hit me.

When we're hurt and in pain, we run and hide. Maybe it's because we don't want others to be bothered with our troubles, maybe it's because you don't want to seem weak. Whatever it is, our instinct is to hide it and sweep it under the rug.

But God sits there and wishes we would share with Him. He wants to keep an eye on us, He wants to make the pain as easy to get through as possible. And so do friends and family. They all care.

It is so much more difficult and humbling to admit you're hurt and in pain, but people actually do care. So why do we keep hiding it from them? Is it simply because we are too proud? Or do we just not trust our friends to care enough to want to be bothered with our troubles?

God has a way with timing, He truly does. And He knows just how to catch my attention most; through music.

Today was one of those days where I got lost in the past. And this time it hit me hard...I wanted to give up. And just when I was about to throw my hands in the air, the towel in the bucket, and peace out...a song came on Pandora that I hadn’t heard before.

I promise you it was one of those ‘cliche’ moments where I turned up my music for no reason and it was precisely what I needed to hear. And it’s those moments where I know I have to listen because it’s no coincidence.

When Tears Fall by Tim Hughes
“I've had questions without answers
I've known sorrow, I have known pain
But there's one thing that I cling to
You are faithful, Jesus You're true

When hope is lost
I call You Saviour
When pain surrounds
I call You Healer
When silence falls
You'll be the song within my heart”

It reminded me of one of my favorite Old Testament passages: Lamentations 3. It may seem a bit morbid at first for being a favorite passage but wait until you get to verses 16-24.

It’s been a passage of comfort to me in many times, reminding me that God’s faithfulness does not change no matter the circumstances.



Rest of the Lyrics:
In the lone hour of my sorrow
Through the darkest night of my soul
You surround me, You sustain me
My defender for ever more

When hope is lost
I call You Saviour
When pain surrounds
I call You Healer
When silence falls
You'll be the song within my heart

And I will praise You
I will Praise You
When the tears fall
Still I will sing to You
I will praise You
Jesus praise You
Through the suffering
Still I will sing to You
[repeat]

When the laughter fails to comfort
When my heart aches, Lord are you there?
When confusion is all around me
And the darkness is my closest friend
Still I'll praise You
Jesus praise You

I’ve made some crummy decisions in my life; big and small. And yet when people asked me if I had any regrets in my life, I drew a blank.

It’s not because I didn’t see the destruction they caused, because believe me I did. Sure I wish I could take back all that pain and disappointment but, even though I can’t, I still don’t regret those circumstances.

But recently I’ve realized that I actually do regret one dumb decision I made years ago. But why is this one different? Yeah, this is one of those big dumb ones, but I can name two other big dumb ones I've made. So why do I regret this one and not the other two?

I’ve learned from my mistakes, and they’ve strengthened me as a person and a friend...yet this one I still regret?

Then I realize, the two big ones I don’t regret are ones I’ve not only learned from but, with the Healer’s help, also seen how they have worked for the better.

Because of those mistakes I’ve been able to help others who are caught in the same place I was. I’ve also seen the joy of letting my mistake prevent others from making the same decision. To me, that’s worth it.

That’s not to say I’d go back and do the same thing intentionally, but it is to say there is a Sovereign God who can take those dumb decisions that Satan hopes will slow me down and turn them into something that will make me and those around me stronger (Rom 8:28).
(Talk about your backfire.)



So why do I regret the one, and not the others?

My conclusion:
Regret is the feeling you get when you haven’t found the benefit of learning from your mistake.

"What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other word would smell as sweet.
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title."
--"Romeo and Juliet" Act II scene ii

Shakespeare's most famous written line; "What's in a name?" It's a question most of us could respond by reciting the following line. But how often do we think about that question?

Within the context of the play we see that Romeo's name does not define him; it does not govern his actions. However, it still identifies him. It identifies his heritage and his background, but not the reputation of his person.

In America our approach to a name is similar; they mean very little. The only significance of them is heritage, background, and identification. But in many cultures and religions this is certainly not the case.


In the Bible we see peoples' names that hold importance in their meaning. These names are chosen in attempt to identify one's specific person and personality. We can see this in both the Old and New Testament. God even renames some people (Abraham, Israel, Peter, Paul...) in order to accurately identify their (new) person/lifestyle.

Over the next month I will be taking on the task of learning the importance of God's many names. But God's names are more than just identification. There is literal power in the names of the Lord.

It's an odd concept to think about...but just reflect on it for a little bit and check out Psalm 20:
verse 1
May the LORD answer you in the day of trouble!
May the name of the God of Jacob protect you!
verse 5
May we shout for joy over your salvation,
and in the name of our God set up our banners!
verse 7 and 8
Some trust in chariots and some in horses,
but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.
They collapse and fall,
but we rise and stand upright.

The name of the Lord protects. The name of the Lord is praiseworthy. The name of the Lord raises up. That's not even the Lord, that's just His name that is doing all that (just imagine what the Lord Himself can do if simply His name can do all that). Now how does that make rational sense?

Like with most abstract concepts, it is easier understood by use of metaphor:
Go back to history class where you learned about the Romans. Being considered a Roman citizen they were protected because it meant Rome was on their side. It was appropriate to celebrate their citizenship because of the safety that is implied. And even the lowly Roman citizens were treated decent (comparatively) as Paul's testimony shows in Acts 22.

It's not a perfect metaphor but it gets the point across; it is possible for a name to hold more than just meaning, but power as well. The Lord's name holds power. That is why it is crucial not to say it in vain, or to throw it around in common speech. One does not go throwing around guns for fear of their misuse, and yet we throw the Lord's name in vain as if it were without power or importance. Ironically, the Lord's name is more powerful than guns and yet we are more careful with guns than we are His name.


So don't let Shakespeare answer that famous question for you. Think about it..."what's in a name?"

I love sitcoms; I grew up watching Everybody Loves Raymond and Home Improvement. Both shows hold a certain place in my heart due to the many laughs they brought me and my family throughout the years. But I can't help thinking about the unfortunate destruction the humor has brought.

I didn't realize the negative impact at the time, but I see it now. I see it more and more. In most family sitcoms the dad is seen as the fool and the woman is always right. It was an object of humor that caught everyone's attention. And honestly, it was funny...on tv.

I love observing people and behavior. (I probably should have studied psychology, but oh well.) And over the years those observations have led me to realize the impact of those beloved sitcoms. Guys who have strong opinions/suggestions when single, suddenly become pushovers when it comes to their girlfriend/fiance/wife.

Yes, some of it is because they are enamored with her and just want to see her happy. But it's not always that. Sometimes they know their girl is incorrect or misinformed and they don't speak up.

According to sitcoms, whatever the guy does is the wrong thing at the wrong time. No wonder they've morphed into pushovers! Men don't like being wrong and so now they just don't share their opinion.

Not only that, but it's the gentleman syndrom. Within Christian circles I realize this issue is even worse. And I think it's because somewhere along the way they confused being a gentleman with being a pushover. Apparently chivalry also includes letting the girl get her way even when she's wrong. :\


I'm not saying I want to marry someone that fights all the time, but I need someone who can tell me when I'm wrong. I'm human, I'm wrong a lot...and my husband needs to be able to tell me when I am.

But do gentleman like that exist? If not, I can certainly live without the chivalry because I'd rather not deal with a pushover.


So to the guys; stand up for yourselves and don't be a pushover. I'm not the only girl who finds pushovers as a turnoff. Learn how to lead in the relationship, that's how God designed it to work. Don't let society/sitcoms convince you otherwise.

To the girls; let the guys know that it's okay to stand up to you. Don't shoot him down when he gives his suggestion/opinion. Give them back the reigns to the relationship and let them lead. They may not always want to, but that is the position that God made for them. Support them in fulfilling that role.

1 Thessalonians 5:11
"Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing."


I think Christians get so focused on the encouragement and forget what "building up" actually entails. We read that verse and somehow get this idea that building up and encouraging are one in the same. But compliments/encouragement are not the only ingredients to building each other up.

"Building up" someone implies growth, right? Well, how can one grow without improvement? And how can one improve if all they hear is encouragement and compliments of what theyr'e doing right? I think Christians have become so focused on the encouragement that they forget to critique.

A couple years ago I was taking a class to become a swim instructor and one of the main points was how to offer criticism. Well that seems accurate, in order to learn one needs to know what they're doing wrong. Despite popular belief criticism is not just the negative, it's the negative with the positive.

My teacher suggested that criticism be a 1:1 ratio, if possible. If you see something they need to improve, you need to mention something they did successfully. But it is just as important to find something they need to improve when you see something they did successfully. Praise and improve. That's how you learn, that's how you get better.

Why have Christians lost that?

We're all about the "aww great job," "you have such a heart for God," and "God's working through you." But rarely do we ever instruct each other. Yes, encouragement is beneficial as well as vital. But so are loving words of instruction.

We strive to be like Christ...and yet we do not rebuke! Christ instructed people all around Him, and people were CHANGED! But nowadays, instruction and rebuking has been reserved for close friends and parents only. What's up with that? Everyone should be building up everyone. After all, we are one body.

We think we're "building each other up" through encourgament when all we're doing is remaining stagnant. We need to know the areas that need improvement in order to change and grow and be built up.


If you offer words of encouragement, do you also offer words of improvement? Or are you letting your brothers/sisters remain stagnant and without change?

I know I have allowed people to remain stagnant, and that needs to change. I let fear get in the way because our American and Christian culture has taught us to not offend anyone. But critique and instruction can be done in a way that is not meant to offend.


So who will you encourage and instruct today? And will you be ready and willing if someone offers you an area of improvment?

Over the past couple days I’ve been slowly finding time to unpack from school. Which means laundering all my clothes because I no longer remember what was clean before I left school and what wasn’t. (Better safe than sorry, right?)

I don’t normally mind laundry but when you have load after load after load after load...it gets annoying. And quickly. While waiting for the dryer to get done with the next load I just wanted to complain; the dirty pile seemed absolutely unending. I always feel like I have very little to wear...until it comes to laundry day and suddenly I have too many clothes. Oy vey.

Then I remembered this one poem my mom hung near the sink. It’s about thanking God for the pile of dirty dishes to clean, not because you have to clean them but because dirty dishes are proof that you had food to fill all those dishes...and consequently your stomaches as well.

Just like dirty dishes are proof of food, piles of dirty laundry are proof that I am privileged enough to have so many clothes. Not only do I have clothes, I have choices of what I want to wear. Some people wear the same thing for days because it’s all they have and here I am complaining that I have piles of dirty clothes.

We all know the phrase, ‘one man’s junk is another one’s treasure’. Well, one man’s complaint is another man’s luxury.


How many other chores do we groan and complain about when really they are blessings overlooked and disguised?

Several weeks ago my ring broke in the back of the band. When it happened I knew I had two options, I could ignore it and continue wearing it or I could take the effort to fix it. I should have seen it coming because there was a faint line down it that indicated a weakness, but I let it slide hoping it was simply a surface mark rather than an internal issue.

Isn't that how broken relationships happen? Small things get overlooked in ignorance or in hopes that it was unimportant. And just like my ring, we have the same two options to chose from when dealing with a broken relationship; we can ignore it, or we can fix it.

Luckily with my ring I chose to take it off until getting it fixed. However, if I continued wearing it without dealing with the issue no one would have noticed. I could have carried on as normal. The problem would be that the break would turn into a larger gap making it more difficult to mend later on.

All too often with relationships we are afraid that we will only make matters worse when trying to fix it, so we don't. We ignore the issue. Left that way for long periods of time you are left with a great chasm. By the time you'd try to fix the relationship that has been broken you won't even know where to start.

Unfortunately I didn't take the wiser route in my relationship with my dad. We ignored it. I didn't pretend it didn't exist, because I was very aware as I continued to walk on eggshells. So how do you go about fixing a broken relationship that's been left to decay?


Well, how am I going to fix my ring?
I could try gluing it together. But that wouldn't really fix the problem. That would only take two stubborn objects and force them together. No, my ring needs to be soldered. It needs to be heated up in order to become malliable enough to be mended.

In order to fix this relationship with my dad it's going to hurt. It needs to get put in the fire with the hot coals before it can be soft enough to change. I'm going to want to turn around and run away from it like I have done over the years.

But there's one more important part of the soldering process that can't be forgotten, and that is the solder itself. The solder is like the middle man. The gap between the two ends of my ring need something to fill it up in order for the gap to be mended.

This broken relationship with my dad can't be fixed without help, I need a solder's assistance. I need God's help. Without God in the mix, even if the relationship is fixed it will be just as easily broken as before. With God as the solder this relationship can be fixed and remain strong.


Will it be easy? No
Will I want to run? Yes
Will it be a quick recovery? No
Will it be worth it? Yes


Broken relationships take effort, humility, and perseverance to fix them. They need to be put in the fire and soldered.

Everyone always says that the youngest sibling has it easy, and in some aspects I can’t deny it. Growing up the youngest was probably easier simply because all the responsibility and parenting experiments was put on the eldest. But it’s later in life when the youngest gets the difficult part of 'siblinghood'.

Being the youngest sister I get to see my brothers grow up and accept these amazing opportunities in life. I am so proud of each of my brothers and where they’ve gotten to but the hard part is realizing that as they take these amazing turns in life...I am left behind.

As I grasp to those "good ol’ days" when our family was together under one house, they’re off living their new lives in different states and even different countries. Our family wasn’t perfect, and we still aren’t, but we are a family and I wouldn’t think of trading them in for any other. I miss them.

Maybe someday their lives will slow down enough for me to catch up to them. Maybe someday I’ll be moving forward, instead of sitting back feeling left behind. Maybe someday I’ll have a life full of my own opportunities.

Maybe...someday.

But until then I will remain content and oh so proud of all three of my brothers and their accomplishments! :)

America was founded on the concept of independency...and unfortunately our culture grasps tightly to it without letting go. This year is America’s 233rd year since declaring independence. And with each year it seems that the importance of independency grows.

Our culture tells us to be independent both financially, emotionally, and physically. "If you’re not independent, clearly you’re just not strong enough. You must be incapable."

After thinking about it, my question is...why do we perceive independency as a good thing? I look at my life and the reason I want to become independent of my family is not necessarily because I want to, but because I need to prove myself. Is that all that independency is...proving to everyone that you are capable of independency?

Most people who appear independent aren’t truly independent. Not entirely. God did not intend for us to be entirely independent. God made us to be dependent most of all to Him as well as to each other. So those that claim complete independence are either lying or they are because they force themselves to be. They build walls around themselves and refuse to need other people. That’s not healthy.

Yes, I understand that certain types of independencies are healthy. Living off your parents until they die, simply because you’re too lazy to get a job is not an okay dependency. But needing support occasionally, whether it be financially, emotionally, or whatever else is NORMAL!! Why do we get this idea that it’s a sign of weakness?!

I can tell you right now, that in the past couple months I’ve been struggling with forcing myself to be independent. Forcing myself to not rely on my parents, or my brothers, or even my friends. I’m one of those “people who need people!” But culture tells me that’s a bad thing, so I find myself refusing to need people and that's not a good thing.
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I love this one book that I own. It has a series of pictures with unique unexplained captions. The following quote is the caption and the story intro is what developed from it.


"If there were an answer, I’d find it there."

Squeakily, rolling down the long, narrow railroad track, the cart slowly inched into the distance. The murky lake surrounding the mysterious track was deathly still and asleep. As if it were a pit bull playing dead just before it strikes, not one ripple quaked the surface of the dark water. Suspense hung over our heads, as the feeling that something eerie was about to occur, lingered in the air.

Curled up beside me, my younger sister shook from the cold breeze. Being that she is four years my junior, I have to care for her like a mother wolf cares for her cubs. Constantly finding strangers to introduce herself to, my sister can be difficult to keep out of trouble. But I don’t mind too much, after all she keeps me on my toes, and ready for the unexpected. Well, that is…until tonight.

Occasionally my "doodles" during class happen to be lyrics. This was written a long time ago. I just remembered it and thought it would be a great addition in light of my previous post.


I give my mind, I give my soul
I give my dreams, I give my goals
My whole life I give to you
It’s not easy but it’s all I can do

Cause you gave me everything
Paid the ultimate sacrifice
I don’t deserve this at all
But you offered it anyhow

I really don’t understand
How can you forgive what I am?
The only thing I can say
Is your love is so great!

For you give me a life I don’t deserve
You give me love and it seems absurd
Cause I turn my back upon you
And I pain you with the things that I do
But your love is so strong
You love me no matter what I do wrong

So here I am
I’ll give you what I can
I can’t give you a lot
But I’ll give you all that I’ve got

So I give my mind, I give my soul
I give my dreams, I give my goals
My whole life I give to you
It’s all yours so please put me to your use
My whole life I give to you
It’s all yours so please put me to your use

Everyone has the need to be loved. There are those that will do anything to be loved, and there are those who have given up on life because they feel unloved. It’s not a cultural need to be loved, it is a desire that every human has.

Some get love from their parents, a boy friend/girlfriend, or even a friend. But even those who have astronomical numbers of friends and loved ones end up feeling lonely. Maybe they don’t feel lonely every day, but there will always be times where everyone feels lonely.

No matter the circumstances, the love we find in friends or family never seems to be enough. There is only one place where the love we desire can be found, and that’s in God.

So why do so many Christians still feel lonely and unloved?

Think of a relationship between two people. If person A loves person B, person B can still feel unloved at the end of the day because they don’t return that love. Just because person B doesn’t love person A back, doesn’t mean person A loves person B any less...it just means person B isn’t really in tune with the love that is being poured onto them. Everyone is familiar with the saying “love is a two way street,” so why don’t we always realize it’s the same thing with God.

Until we return that love, we don’t truly realize/notice how much love is being poured on us by God. So how do we love God? It’s not something that usually happens over night. Love takes time to develop. Think about it, to love your parents it was developed through this relationship you had with them growing up, to love a friend it probably developed through the good and bad times you’ve endured with them, and to love a girlfriend/boyfriend it probably developed over a process of getting to know them.

There’s a quote from a movie that I think simplifies the point I’m trying to get at. “Love is a process, it isn’t this big event.”

I’ve known all my life that God is all I need. But to believe that with my heart is completely different. There have been times in my life where my heart has realized that God is enough and I try my best to “fall in love with God” but what does that actually entail?

It’s one thing to decide to love someone, it’s another to work towards achieving it. So many of those times I had an epiphany and (re)realized God was all I needed. Because of this inspiring epiphany I expected to instantly love Him. But like I said before, it’s not something that just happens.
Another quote from the same movie: “Love isn’t always a lightning bolt, you know?.... Maybe love isn’t something that happens to you. Maybe it’s something you have to choose.”

The expression “fall in love” and “choosing to love” have two things in common. I want you to look at the first word in both of those phrases. Step back into English class and tell me what kind of English words “fall” and “choose” are.

They’re both verbs. Verbs identify that there is an action taking place. So why do we think that love can be instant? It’s not a cup of coffee. It needs more time and action put into developing it.

So how does one live their life and feel loved?
They need to recognize that there is only One who can fill that emptiness.

The good news....the One that can satisfy our desire to be loved already does love us! Now it’s our turn to recognize that and choose to begin this process of loving Him back so we can truly feel His love being poured out on us.

But how do you begin to love someone you can’t see or touch?
Just like your friends...begin a relationship. Get to know Him. Spend time with Him. Let Him live life with you by talking to Him and asking for advice.

He already loves you. It’s time to stop running away or sitting in a stagnant relationship with Him and turn that one way street into a two way street!

There have been so many instances in my life where I have just wanted to know what happens in the end or where a certain circumstance in life is going to take me, but then I realize that the story of my life is much like a book. Sometimes things can move slow when nothing seems to happen, and then there are times where life is so fast paced it leaves my head spinning.

Reading a book is a process, you can't simply skip a part because it's boring. You have to push through it because it's all there for a reason. Even if it doesn't seem like it at the time.

And most importantly, you can't just flip to the back page to see what's coming ahead, or where everything leads to. If you do, the ending looses it's meaning. Without the process of slowly reading through the book and pushing through it, you can't appreciate the climax that was built to make the ending so worth it.

So here I am. Pushing through the slower parts in life and letting the unknown begin to build it's climax to whatever end may come because I know that waiting is part of what makes the result so exciting.


The best part is, I'm letting someone write my story for me who has far bigger plans than I have for myself. And He is the absolute best author. He is the Sovereign Lord and Author of life!

Written for a funeral I was unable to attend...


One by one they all pass by
stale in stern expression.
They carry on without a thought,
in one heartbreaking procession.

Their world has collapsed
and was sent to the grave.
Their minds are clouded and,
in their heart, grief engraves.

Grins have retreated,
fleeing this dark town.
This now overturned place,
house windows for frowns.

Their river has been depleted,
and their faucet runs dry.
Though their sorrow is there,
they can no longer cry.

Down to the ground,
each one stares.
For if they looked up,
they fear the world doesn’t care.

But the people watching,
though they don’t comprehend,
are there to support
cause they’re friends till the end.

So on this day thick with rain,
there’s a mood full of gloom.
It’s a procession of solemn faces,
from the church to the tomb.


Rest in peace, Kathy.

It’s been so long since I’ve felt the warm sun upon my skin. For months I’ve been caged and imprisoned by these walls. Oh I’ve seen the sun everyday, except for those unusual occurrences when the clouds cover the sky like a thick white blanket, but the sunbeams have been blocked by this brick cage I’m in.

Our society today tells us that first impressions are the most important. And what is the first impression people get? Looks and appearances of course. In order to “live the life” you need to be attractive according to the world’s standards.

When I look in the mirror, low self esteem hasn’t been a struggle for me. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had to jump that hurtle (someone find me a girl who hasn’t) just not recently. You won’t find me on a magazine cover, but I’m confident and I’m content. I figured that someday I’ll have a husband who will be able to say, “See that beautiful girl over there, she’s mine.”

But tonight when I saw my reflection I heard my Heavenly Father say, “See that beautiful girl down there, she’s mine.” The God of the Universe; He can see every person on this planet and He still looks down with a huge smile on His face and says, “That girl is mine, I love her so much!”

It’s not because I was blessed with “the right genes” or because I know what clothes to buy to make me look good. I’m beautiful because the Artist of this Universe created me. The same hands that formed the stunning stars that fill the sky (unless you’re near Philly where you can only see 5 stars), the same hands that painted a rainbow, the same hands that detailed each unique snowflake...also created me. That’s the reason I’m beautiful. That kind of beauty will never fade.

Tonight God told me I was beautiful. God told me He loved me. I am my Daddy’s girl!

To be able to call myself a "daddy's girl" may seem normal to some, but to me it is foreign. I don't think I've ever called myself a "daddy's girl." But tonight, I realized I was. And I have been all along!



Feeling God’s love firsthand never gets old. It refreshes, it comforts, it inspires. It is like nothing else. This world may try to tell you differently, and you might believe them sometimes. But it’s all a big lie...just another distraction.

Only from God can you experience pure and perfect love.

"I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are Your works, and my soul knows it very well. "
Psalm 139:14

This was written for my Prophetics class in which we were given creative liberty in interpreting Ezekiel 1. Not an easy chapter I assure you, however I enjoyed the assignment.
The bolded text was actually written months before on one of those spur of the moment pen-in-hand writing experiences. It just happened to be a perfect story to frame my interpretation. I did not edit it to fit the assignment, it already did.
In order to understand the unique fantasy type feel to this piece, please read Ezekiel 1 to understand what I was trying to picture.



I heard the second hand on the clock ticking as each second felt like a minute passing slowly by. No one had a clue as to what we should do while we were waiting. The teacher still hasn’t shown up, but we had seven minutes remaining before we could leave. It was one of those groggy Mondays where it was too early in the morning and the overcast sky with the misty rain only encouraged the silence of the sleepy people occupying the seats around me.

In the remaining time as I awaited my professor I decided to get ahead in my reading for one of my Bible classes. I reached down to my black bag resting against the feet of my chair to retrieve my recently bought Bible. As I opened my Bible to begin reading, I could still smell the scents of the large bookstore from which it was bought. I looked at the words on the page and tried to imagine the events that took place in the passage, but I could not focus. The silence of the people in the room gnawed at me like maggots eating away my sanity. The only sounds I heard were the cracking of knuckles, the scrapping of pencils, and the rustling of papers.

At last my mind was able to escape to another world. This world was not beautiful, this world was not serene, but the soft noises within the room grew to a loud symphony of an autumn forest just after a fire.

This dark and desolate forest was filled with an eerie mist that diminished any flames that resided. Trees, burnt as if from the inside out, came crashing to the forest floor below with a large crack, like the sound of thunder above your head. With each step I took I heard the leaves rustle and crunch beneath my feet and felt the presence of death and loneliness fill the air and absorb any spark of hope as the mist absorbed the dying flames from the burnt trees. Yet within this world filled with fear and uncertainty, I couldn’t help but be intrigued by the unique beauty of the scene that unfolded before me.

I continued crunching leaves as I aimlessly walked through the mist and past the death of the plants surrounding me when I noticed there was something sweet and innocent nearby. I couldn’t describe it; I didn’t know which direction it was in. But I knew it was there. Just like a soft harmony hidden behind the loud crescendo of an overpowering melody, it was there. Then I saw it. It was present all along, I just wasn’t looking for it until now.

Further into the heart of the forest was this grand tree that was untouched from the flames that destroyed everything else. It was as if the flames had avoided the tree and its close surroundings for fear of it. Even I could not get closer to it. This fear was not brought on by disgust, but rather by an immense amount of beauty. As soon as my eyesight reached the enchanting tree I stopped walking. I was so full of awe at the scene before me that I became powerless and could no longer move. This was not just some lucky tree that happened to escape a quenching fire. No, this tree was perfectly sculpted and radiated such elegance and ravishing beauty that even fire did not dare try to harm. It gleamed like a dazzling crystal among ashes.

Amidst branches and upon the roots of this tree, four beings dwelt in harmony. The eagle sat upon the flourishing branches of the tree, while the human, lion, and ox occupied the ground below. Just like the tree, each of these beings were shinning torches lighting up the darkness surrounding them. Each being had the power to at least harm another, but tension and fear did not exist between them. In fact, the opposite took place. Sometimes the eagle would swoop down and walk among the other beings as if they were all part of one family. As these beings walked about, they moved with such grace that they appeared to be floating rather than walking. Although there was innocence in their countenance, there was also power. As they moved about there was no sound of crunching leaves beneath their feet, but rather the babbling sounds of many waters nearby, or the sound of an army approaching.

Not one of the beings seemed to turn its head toward me, or perk an ear in my direction, but they knew I was there. It was as if the stars in the sky or the small water droplets in the mist were eyes watching over the entire forest. I didn’t get that creepy feeling of knowing that I was being watched, but rather a soothing feeling like when a king watches over his kingdom.

This glorious tree, along with the four beings, gleamed like a symbol of hope that the fire can be quenched, that the fire is not the most powerful thing in the forest. No, this tree had conquered the fire’s threat of destruction and shone bright with a likeness of a victorious king sitting upon his throne. It glowed so bright that one might fear that the light, in all its purity, would burst from the inside of the tree and beings for it is too powerful to be contained. This tree, was like the appearance of a rainbow in the clouds on a rainy day.

As I turned my head to take in the contrast between the burnt trees and this single enchanting tree, my eyes snapped back into focus. The surrounding trees that were once burnt to the core were once again my classmates sitting in the black rows of chairs. The rustling noises of papers being put back into backpacks reminded me once again that I was awaiting the arrival of my professor to begin class. Alas, he did not show up. I was now left with the remaining thirty-five minutes I had just gained from class being cancelled to finish reading and ponder over the abstract vision that Ezekiel had in his first chapter. How I was ever to interpret this chapter was beyond me.

Inspired by the ice storm back in December that left my family without power and heat for several days.


Sitting here bundled up in coats and blankets I can see, through the window, trees glistening in the moonlight. Despite the beauty that it appeared to be outside, the last thing I wanted to do was venture out and walk amidst it with the crunching ice beneath my feet. I heard enough crunching and cracking without leaving the wad of blankets above me that I didn’t need to be out there.

It was as if the cracking and popping noises from outside were a soft overtone to a soundtrack in a movie, only it wasn’t a soothing overtone it was one that built up suspense. Every minute hoping it was only a small crack that was heard and not the large crash of a massive branch penetrating the house.

With no power to allow for music to drown out the outdoor noises the only defense I had left from the fear was my imagination. I clamped my eyes shut and tensed into a tighter ball under the layers of covers and clothes.

The cracking and popping was still there, but instead of filling the air with fear it filled the air with warmth and hospitality. Right in front of me were flames dancing to the beat of the crackling like miniature tap dancers dressed in red and orange. Every time a large crack would occur sparks would shoot up into adorning fireworks showcased within my cozy little fireplace.

No longer was I covered in blankets, but simply curled up on the couch soaking up the heat radiating from the fire. There I laid down my head and let the captivating flames finish the show before me as my eyelids bore down upon my eyes. Gradually my blinks were no longer blinks but quick dozes off to sleep, until eventually my eyes gave up staying awake to watch the tap dancing fire and let sleep fall upon me at last.