The anthem

The room is full of people, the noise deafening, excitement is everywhere covering everything like kisses. Then the lights go dark. a mysterious melody rises from the darkness and meanders around the room slow at first then building in strength and speed. A light comes from out of the heavens and shines on joyfulnes embodied. smiling people rhythmically moving to the beat, music radiates from these people, slowly the crowd catches the Joy, catches the beat and starts to move as well, soon the entire room is filled with one motion. Suddenly, abandonment, the music stops, the lights go dark....and then, a voice, a voice to tell the room what to do, now that there is no music, no beat, no movement. All eyes stare at the the source of the voice, even though they can't see it, they cannot look away, they are compelled to focus on the darkness, to will a vision to appear. It does, a man is revealed, This man is telling a story, a story that is troubling. The crowd begins to feel uncomfortable. As they continue to listen and as the words settle over them and sink in the unease grows. The Story is drawing them deeper, into their very souls. The words call them to action, however, no one moves, everyone is waiting on someone else to be first, for someone else to be the hero. Then the full meaning of the story takes hold and one by one people realize, that is the point, i have to move, i cannot sit still any longer. I MUST act. This realization, is followed closely behind by emotions. All kinds, some feel excitement, some shame, some acceptance, some intense pain. Everyone hears the same words but they affect them differently, the call to action is different for each person. The action is different. As the room begins to stir, people are no longer one. They are now individuals, responding to the same words from the same man about the same thing. Some drop to their knees, a few leave, a smattering of people look towards the ceiling, a larger group looks towards the floor. After seconds, minutes, of this response, again the music comes, the notes drift around and then settle into a song, an anthem for the story, the song makes the people think. Makes them remember, those emotions, those actions they just did and makes them ponder the next time they can move, they can DO. As the final notes play the entire room is again one motion, one voice,........ just one.

the haunting

The tall tower of darkness raises high above the city. The haunting notes of the prayer float down from the mountaintop. The melody briefly dropping down and kissing the cheeks, blowing past the ears of the people living in the stillness below. Through the windows of people still deep asleep in their beds. The taunting of the deceiver raises some from their beds to the actions that will grant them entrance. The repetitive words and motions giving comfort and stability in a great big world of uncertainty. The people who answer the call shroud themselves in their holy deeds and the safety that comes with religious trappings. The ones who walk in truth who do not answer the tempters call, sense the undertones of evil and darkness and unintentionally shiver, from the contrast. Once, twice, three times, five times a day the song repeats and the zombies rise from their graves and pay homage to the grim reaper.

disenchantment

At the bottom of the alter looking up at what we desire to be. The embodiment of our dreams, the soundtrack to all of our memories of learning and growth. the vision has been cast. The challenge made. As reflection is made the streams of just as i am float into my stream of conscienceness. Then, all goes black and I see that the object of my admiration is laying at the bottom of the alter, not completely shattered, just bruised and battered. As I stare I begin to cry and through my tears the broken bits blur and the whole emerges. I realize that brokeness isn't the end. Adam brought the brokeness to us. And as a result we are all just broken and bruised laying at the foot of someones alter.

tsfa ala

Why does it have to be so confusing? I always thought it would be glorious and exciting, but then it came and the changes were so slight I didn’t notice at first. I didn’t see it coming. And truthfully, the longer it went the more I dreaded the coming. And then, one day I wake up, and it has taken over me. The person I once was is gone replaced by this new person. Responsibility, what is that, who wants that? But having people count on you. Being that person. Becoming intoxicated by the sense of power and purpose. There another step is taken. Realizing that what was up is now down and the things that used to rule all are now slightly less important. They are thought about slightly less. Optimism is slipping away, and you sit watching it go wishing it would come back but powerless to stop it. What is left isn’t exactly pessimism, just a realization that the world isn’t as great as you want it to be, that people aren’t all good and just waiting for someone to show them how to be good. There is this jaded slightly hard part that when it surfaces it is like you are watching yourself react and judging negatively those actions taken and thoughts thought and then you slowly come back to yourself and realize it is yourself that you are judging, you have become that which you once despised….only it snuck up so quickly you didn’t catch it, you didn’t stop it, and now you don’t know how to go back, how to look at the things around you and see a room full of shiny opportunity instead of opportunistic souls and hollowed out shells of people who also once thought that a better world was just around the horizon, that greatness was there for the taken and that it was good. That war was a glorious endeavor that would lead to admiration and a sense that you helped to create a better place. Instead you look around at the blood and the nastiness around you and realize that it isn’t glorious, not at all, it is only people who have become blind to the fact that those things across the chasm, aren’t just things they are people thy are souls that long for something better, something bigger, just like you do, that thing over there is a mirror image of yourself, and in it you see the light dimming in their eyes and you see that the shininess is wearing off to reveal a slightly rusted out version of a former life. And as you stand there across that rift suddenly you realize that the glories you are looking for aren’t going to be found in destroying that thing over there, it is going to be found by restoration, by adding some paint, covering up the bruises. That will always be a weak point, but now, but now, there is something new. Something that gives you that feeling in the pit of your stomach like when you were a kid when you heard stories of bravery and heroism……you feel hope.

freedom

Ribbons of color flicker through the air swirling around. Sounds of laughter float towards my ears. I realize it is my own, one by one more voices join mine; a joyous melody floating up. Curious glances peer around the door frame, looking to see what is causing so much fun. They see the pale face, dimples out, in the midst of layers of brightly colored cloth wrapped around her head her shoulders, floating from her hand. This entrancing snapshot seen from the outside leaves the viewer thinking. They continue on their way. They get onto the bus They think back to that girl and wonder how she could be so exuberant, so vibrant, so.... FREE, in the midst of a crowded street. The word Free sticks in their minds and they close their eyes and concentrate on that word. As they do they see something floating, fluttering, in the sky a deep blue sky on a perfectly clear day and then they see the bird move down to earth and as it gets closer they see that it is a dove as white and pure as they have ever seen and then the view shifts and they are looking down from above and see the dove land on the head of a man in a river. This man is just emerging from the water drops flying off the tips of his hair as he gently shakes his head. there is another man there, hairy and slightly scary looking. Then suddenly a voice that seems to surround them says, "you are my son chosen and marked by my love. pride of my life." Then there is this spinning and everything becomes slightly off kilter when it rights itself this man that came out of the water is badly beaten and his face fills your eyes then the scene moves out and you see that he is tied to some wood, no nailed, to a cross and blood is running down his body and pooling on the ground you close your eyes in order to get the horrific scene from your mind and when you open your eyes you see a man standing there, he looks kind of like the one you just saw dying then you fixate on the holes in his hands and realize it is the same man. Then he begins to float upwards and you stare transfixed until he is just a glimpse of white floating up in the sky, a sky so blue. then the scene tilts again and when it comes back into focus there is the face of the girl from the street earlier and her green eyes pierce yours and you see her say, "HE is why I am FREE."

love

i am learning a lot about showing love. Our houseworker has so much to do. I know that this will be a shock to those that really know me, but i keep my room very clean so she doesn't have to really do anything for my room, but still everyday i go in and she has moved around my decorations. Moved my candles into a different formation. I think that she does this to show that she cares about me and wants me to know she spends time doing things for me. But it makes me laugh everytime. In the same way the guard always takes my bags when I come through the door. i could have walked 5 miles with them and been fine but when i enter my yard they will be taken from me and carried into the house. Even when all I have is a loaf of bread in a sack it will be taken. This too makes me laugh. i am tempted to resist but I know that this is also a sign of respect. My local friends will always agree to spend time with me, even if they are sick and should be in bed, if I ask they are wherever I ask them to be. I have to really ask about them and thier lifes to find out about the illnesses. Then I am like why did you not just tell me that? I have much to learn from new friends about showing love to the people i care about.

So I want to use real sentences and tell all about the new sights and sounds. But I am having problems putting all my ideas into coherent thoughts. But I am beginning to worry that I don’t even have coherent thoughts. (Which I am sure is hard to believe.) I have met some incredible people. I get to see cattle and sheep everyday….in the main street in front of my house. There are sights and smells which are completely new to me. But the most surprising thing is how beautiful it is here. The weather is great and there are mountains and we have the most gorgeous garden in our yard. I have already taken more public transportation in the last four days than in the rest of my 23 years put together. I have a great partner. I got to drink avocado juice. I have already heard more about bowl movements than is really necessary. I have already met my first dijubitians. I was in the middle of a full on hail storm today. All in all life is grand right now. This morning I read something in mr. chambers book of insight……”If you make a god out of your best moments you will find that God will fade out of your life, never to return until you are obedient in the work He has placed closest to you, and until you have learned not to be obsessed with those exceptional moments He has given to you.” “The proof that our relationship is right with God is that we do our best whether we feel inspired or not.”

reclaiming lost ground

the metal spheres move through the ground throwing dirt in their paths. sticks, rocks, little bits of an old shoe are left in their wake. treasures from a time forgotten. parts of a life that has already been lived to completion.....these things we find by not letting the edges come up and slowly creep into the land which is good. The shrinking is stopped by these little blades. The land which once was is now again restored to working order. The weeds are yanked out and true crops will grow. The things which should be will be again. and the pain and the sorrow of the past will be brought to light and smoothed out and treasured anew.

new eyes

I love little kids. I talked to some RAs and GAs tonight and can I just say adorable. They were so excited, and one girl asked me if I was going to walk there. Oh to be that young and innocent again. :) Made for a good ending to a day spent getting soaking wet and completely covered in mud all in the sake of steak. gotta love the cows.

question

can we discuss the meaning of the word apostle? What does anyone think this word means? Are there still apostles today? Is there a distinction between big A apostle and little a? That whole thing from Paul teacher, preacher, apostle thing. Was he the last one? feed back please.