It's a curious feeling sitting here on the couch for the fourth day in a row. So much time to myself really lets my mind roam like a buffalo in the Black Hills, probably in part because of all the drugs I'm taking. I'm still not sure what I would prefer: a life of luxury where I could lay around on the couch all day and not worry about anything, or a life of action, responsibilities, and things to do. I love not having anything to worry about but I'm not much of a fan of the boredom, for even the Internet can get boring after being on it for hours upon end.
But what is really harping on my mind right now is the fact that there are only 40 hours until I'll be leaving for the first real job of my life. I've been hired to work at King's Pointe in Storm Lake, a water park resort and hotel, as a front desk clerk. When I first applied for the job, I told myself that it couldn't be too tough. What could be so hard about standing behind a desk and dealing with reservations and customer service? But then I went in for my first interview and was smacked in the face with so much information that it scared me. I have to work with their computer systems. I have to handle all reservations and every customer, good and bad. I am officially the "face" of King's Pointe, which means that I am the first impression people get when they stay there. It may not seem like a big deal, but that's a lot of pressure. My last job only asked me to make coffee and be able to clean. To succeed at this new workplace, I'll have to step up my game. I just hope I'm up for the challenge.
But as we all know, I'm a complicated person, and therefore my mind juggles many thoughts at once. While my new job is one of my biggest worries, I also float around to the time of year it is. Graduations, from high school and college, are happening. This is the year of John Lorenzen, of Eric Rasmussen, of Ashley Drey. This is the year of my brother Caleb and my teammates Jon, Kyle, Scott, and Danny. It's crazy to think that I'll never play tennis with those four again. It's crazy to think that John and Eric, along with myself and our whole group, are already finished with two years of our college career. And of course, Ashley Drey graduating high school is no small feat. How time flies, huh? She'll be one of us next year...
But as I said, graduation season. I'm off to one right now actually: Jessica Aaren Mathes. I'm looking forward to seeing Breanna for the first time in a while, and also to some wonderful food and fellowship. Until next time.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
Shadows Cast By Others Or By Us Standing In Our Own Sunshine?
It's never easy walking through high school in someone else's shadow. Just ask Aunt Mona in "You Again." Walking in anyone's shadow is never enjoyable, but when it's your best friend, that shadow seems to simply tower over you, even if they don't mean it to. They're often too busy being themselves and enjoying their lives to realize the shadow they cast. It's not their fault. It's who they are and no one can blame them for being liked and accepted. They're smart, they're funny, everyone loves being around them. Heck, people love the idea of being them. They're attractive, they make people laugh, they radiate confidence in whatever they do. They have so many traits that we don't - traits we wish we had but could never possibly possess. The combination it takes of personality and skill to be so "normal" seems to come naturally to them. Maybe they're not so good at basketball or track, but they're a heck of hunter, fisher, and car fanatic. Maybe speed and flexibility aren't top on their list, but honesty, trustworthiness, strength, and patience are definite, suitable replacements.
And there we are, enjoying the shade because it rules out the possibility of a sunburn but hating ourselves for bringing our best friend down whenever we're seen with them. We were never that popular or accepted ourselves, so when we're seen walking alongside them in the hallway or sitting next to them at a basketball game or the lunch table, heads begin to shake in puzzlement. Sometimes they're asked why they hang out with us. For all we know, they don't know how to respond. They're not quite sure themselves.
And then they give in and drink. They go to a party for the first time and really enjoy themselves. They realize what a great time they can have with these guys and start hanging out with them more frequently. They're too responsible to ever get involved with cigarettes or anything like that, but the door has now been opened to alcohol and it doesn't look like it will close anytime soon.
But they still find time for us. We still hang out, we still talk until one in the morning, we still go places and have great times. By now, they've mastered the idea of a "double life" and are able to pull it off flawlessly. The fact that they've now perfected another field that we lack so much experience in makes us even more in awe of what they can do. Yet sadly it also allows another difference to surface between us. Something else that has the potential to pull us farther apart has come to light. Could they really truly enjoy us that much? Do they really feel that close and connected to us? They promise friendship and loyalty, and because of everything they've done, we trust them to the very core. Yet deep down inside, we worry for them. We worry that someday they'll wake up and realize that they've wasted so much time - so many years - hanging out with us instead of doing something much more enjoyable. Something so much more meaningful with their life. What will happen when that day comes?
And there we are, enjoying the shade because it rules out the possibility of a sunburn but hating ourselves for bringing our best friend down whenever we're seen with them. We were never that popular or accepted ourselves, so when we're seen walking alongside them in the hallway or sitting next to them at a basketball game or the lunch table, heads begin to shake in puzzlement. Sometimes they're asked why they hang out with us. For all we know, they don't know how to respond. They're not quite sure themselves.
And then they give in and drink. They go to a party for the first time and really enjoy themselves. They realize what a great time they can have with these guys and start hanging out with them more frequently. They're too responsible to ever get involved with cigarettes or anything like that, but the door has now been opened to alcohol and it doesn't look like it will close anytime soon.
But they still find time for us. We still hang out, we still talk until one in the morning, we still go places and have great times. By now, they've mastered the idea of a "double life" and are able to pull it off flawlessly. The fact that they've now perfected another field that we lack so much experience in makes us even more in awe of what they can do. Yet sadly it also allows another difference to surface between us. Something else that has the potential to pull us farther apart has come to light. Could they really truly enjoy us that much? Do they really feel that close and connected to us? They promise friendship and loyalty, and because of everything they've done, we trust them to the very core. Yet deep down inside, we worry for them. We worry that someday they'll wake up and realize that they've wasted so much time - so many years - hanging out with us instead of doing something much more enjoyable. Something so much more meaningful with their life. What will happen when that day comes?
Friday, May 6, 2011
We're Halfway There
To my esteemed colleagues and friends of the same age and academic standing:
We are officially finished with two years of our college career. Two years. Two years of homework, stress, tests, quizzes, papers, projects, and presentations: completed. To those of us who are doing four years, we're halfway done. We've completed two years of hard work. There are only two years left, and then it's out into the real world for us. No more cramming to get that last bit of information into our heads ten minutes before that huge test. No more staying up until 3:00 in the morning to finish that huge paper that's due at 8:00 the next morning. It's the real world, ladies and gentlemen. Life only gets harder.
But for now, let's focus on the fact that we've accomplished so much in these two years. We've braved the chaos that seemed to want to swallow us whole when we arrived at college for the first time. We made friends in those first few weeks and months and, God-willing, still have them by our side. At times, we patiently accepted the intensity, the ferocity that is known as "college work," and other times, we simply broke down in anger, frustration, or exhaustion. But we continued on with a dogged determination, refusing to admit defeat to that enemy we know as procrastination. It seemed inevitable, at times, that he would fully conquer us, but while he managed to win a few battles, we eventually won the war.
Christmas, Easter, spring break, and then it was summer time! We all reunited in love and fellowship and exchanged stories, good and bad, about our freshman years. We reacquainted ourselves with our old habits and once again settled into a three-month summer of fun, games, talks, family, and friends. But then it was over, and we were back at college again.
The second year was much more comfortable for most. We met up with old friends and exchanged stories, also good and bad, about our summers and how amazing they all were. It wasn't long before work began to pile up due to our old foe, Mr. Procrastination. Yet we would not be conquered and soon found ourselves studying for finals in May. Through many games of sand volleyball, many horrible meals in Janzow, multiple injuries from the physicality of our lives, and many laughs and tears, we finally finished our second year by reaching, for some of us, the halfway point in our college education. It wasn't always easy, but we've now reached that milestone and we're still chuggin' on strong!
So here we are. Two years older than when we started our freshman campaign on our campuses. Two years wiser than when leaving our high school hallways. Two more years of maturity under our belts, for in these two years, we've suffered through more than just impossible homework. Best friends have grown apart. Enemies have become allies. Relationships have been pushed to their boundaries and beyond, strengthening some while devastating others. But here we all are. We're alive, we're healthy, and we're basking in the sunshine of summer 2011. May it be another summer of memories: bonfires, birthday parties, cat-and-mouse games in cars, hide-and-go-seek in the dark games in church basements, capture the flag games on golf courses, movies, talks, four square, friends, families, and more. We deserve a little break, so let's make it one heck of a vacation. Summer, here we come!
We are officially finished with two years of our college career. Two years. Two years of homework, stress, tests, quizzes, papers, projects, and presentations: completed. To those of us who are doing four years, we're halfway done. We've completed two years of hard work. There are only two years left, and then it's out into the real world for us. No more cramming to get that last bit of information into our heads ten minutes before that huge test. No more staying up until 3:00 in the morning to finish that huge paper that's due at 8:00 the next morning. It's the real world, ladies and gentlemen. Life only gets harder.
But for now, let's focus on the fact that we've accomplished so much in these two years. We've braved the chaos that seemed to want to swallow us whole when we arrived at college for the first time. We made friends in those first few weeks and months and, God-willing, still have them by our side. At times, we patiently accepted the intensity, the ferocity that is known as "college work," and other times, we simply broke down in anger, frustration, or exhaustion. But we continued on with a dogged determination, refusing to admit defeat to that enemy we know as procrastination. It seemed inevitable, at times, that he would fully conquer us, but while he managed to win a few battles, we eventually won the war.
Christmas, Easter, spring break, and then it was summer time! We all reunited in love and fellowship and exchanged stories, good and bad, about our freshman years. We reacquainted ourselves with our old habits and once again settled into a three-month summer of fun, games, talks, family, and friends. But then it was over, and we were back at college again.
The second year was much more comfortable for most. We met up with old friends and exchanged stories, also good and bad, about our summers and how amazing they all were. It wasn't long before work began to pile up due to our old foe, Mr. Procrastination. Yet we would not be conquered and soon found ourselves studying for finals in May. Through many games of sand volleyball, many horrible meals in Janzow, multiple injuries from the physicality of our lives, and many laughs and tears, we finally finished our second year by reaching, for some of us, the halfway point in our college education. It wasn't always easy, but we've now reached that milestone and we're still chuggin' on strong!
So here we are. Two years older than when we started our freshman campaign on our campuses. Two years wiser than when leaving our high school hallways. Two more years of maturity under our belts, for in these two years, we've suffered through more than just impossible homework. Best friends have grown apart. Enemies have become allies. Relationships have been pushed to their boundaries and beyond, strengthening some while devastating others. But here we all are. We're alive, we're healthy, and we're basking in the sunshine of summer 2011. May it be another summer of memories: bonfires, birthday parties, cat-and-mouse games in cars, hide-and-go-seek in the dark games in church basements, capture the flag games on golf courses, movies, talks, four square, friends, families, and more. We deserve a little break, so let's make it one heck of a vacation. Summer, here we come!
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Would You Just Look At THIS!!
This has to be one of the funniest videos I've ever seen. Thank you Ryan Roehrig for showing it to me. I'm sure you've all seen it or at least heard of it. For those of you who haven't seen it, enjoy. I'm pretty sure half the student body of Concordia is quoting it by now. You can hear them from my room when they're on the sand volleyball court. It's hilarious. I thought that this would be a good time for some comedy relief, especially for us Concordians with all of our tests this week. Maybe this will help. Hope you're all having luck with your finals!
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Easter Joy
Yes, yes, yes, yes. I understand that I have failed to post as often as some might wish. I send my apologies out to those who were hoping for something sooner than this post. I promise that I haven't forgotten, but now is a very busy time, so things might be slow for a little while yet. Until then, I will leave you with a thought from where else? Of course. The Bible. Happy Easter!!
"After the Sabbath, at dawn of the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb. There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men. The angel said to the women, 'Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him. Now I have told you.' So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them. 'Greetings,' he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, 'Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.'"
- Easter account from Matthew
"After the Sabbath, at dawn of the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb. There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men. The angel said to the women, 'Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him. Now I have told you.' So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them. 'Greetings,' he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, 'Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.'"
- Easter account from Matthew
Sunday, April 10, 2011
20 Years Old And Still Kickin'
It was just before midnight. She had spent so much time in this room, and all of a sudden, through the pain, sweat, and tears, it was all over. A baby was crying nearby. Could it possibly be her fourth child? She held him in her arms, smiling down on what was her third son and what would one day grow into a tall, energetic 20-year-old with many gifts, even more problems, and a preference of no pickle, please.
Yes. Twenty years ago, on this exact day, I came into this world. The place? Olney, Illinois. The time? A couple of minutes before midnight. Of course I can't say that I remember anything about that night, but I'm told that I was quite a hassle. It seems that I did not want to abandon my warm, comfortable home for a world full of evil, deceit, and Cardinal fans. Can you blame me?
As anyone in my family will tell you, I spent the first ten years of my life crying. I was as much of an emotional nutcase as I am today, but back then, tears came with my everyday routine. There was always something that set me off. I wouldn't like how my older brothers would look at me. I didn't appreciate the way my older sister was talking to me. I didn't enjoy hearing my younger siblings fuss when they were babies and would join in with their cries of pain, fright, anger, and exhaustion. I was never very strong, and it showed. I was never the strongest guy on the team, the biggest guy in the lineup, or the roughest player on the field. Size and strength were not characteristics of mine.
But what I lacked in brute force I more than made up for with the power of imagination. Paired with my speed and intellect, I could be a pretty tough customer if the situation called for it. I would spend hours on end every day wandering around the yard, changing the grass into lava or the trees into evil soldiers that had to be defeated at any cost. The tree that I climbed every day became an irreplaceable monument in my life, and when I wasn't on the ground fighting off battalions of goblins, I was in the heights of the seemingly limitless world of branches, leaves, moss, and insects. That tree became my second home. I would spend my days climbing in all directions: up, down, backwards, diagonally... well you get the picture. It was quite a universe that I created, and every day brought new challenges, friends, enemies, and adventures.
But as history has taught us, all great empires eventually crumble. Not even my industrious kingdom, with all its power and glory, could survive the shattering explosion brought by the Great Move of the year 2000. This was the year my family decided to take a call to a little town called Galva in the northwest corner of Iowa. This was the time my parents decided to take me away from all that I had ever known. This was the fateful ending of an age that had seen me mature into a great warrior: an unstoppable hero whose power was boundless, his potential infinite. Yes, this is when I was forced to leave my world - a world of warmth, comfort, and hope - for something foreign, something unknown to me.
And yet through more tears, many fits of anger and frustration, countless fights, slammed doors, and hoarse voices, we all made it out the other side. Some of us were bruised and bloody, but we survived. The first few months were simply torture for me. I had never known what it was like to not have friends because I had been blessed with some really great ones back in Flora. Walking into that fourth grade classroom the day after Christmas break, I still remember all of those eyes staring at me, looking me up and down as if checking for weak spots. I still remember those awkward moments at recess, those many days spent alone at home, and those countless emotional battles that were constantly waging war inside and out.
But then came middle school, confirmation, my first crush, my first handful of friends, and sports. I was one of the most awkward kids in school, but I was no longer the "new kid." That label fled from me almost the second I stepped through those doors to start my fifth grade year. I had grown accustomed, somewhat, to how things were done in those parts. I was invited to a birthday party. I spent the night at some really amazing houses. I played some wicked dodgeball at recess. I was there for the birth of our first-class basketball team and was a key player as it grew stronger and more sure of itself.
And then came high school. Awkward freshman year, stupid sophomore year, but then glorious junior and senior years. Oh boy: two of the best years of my life, easily. I had the time of my life in concert band and somehow enjoyed myself even more in jazz band. I enjoyed playing an important role on our fantastic basketball team and powered through many tough moments to complete a successful career as a Pirate. I then shed my peg leg and hook for feathers and arrows to become a Brave for a Cherokee tennis team that added the terms "sub-state" and "state" to their vocabulary every year for three consecutive years.
Yet none of this compared to the group of friends I gained while winding my way through the maze of Galva-Holstein High School. The real reason the last two years of high school were so unforgettable for me was simply because of the time I spent with my amazing friends and the memories we created together. I became a runaway bandit for a night. I transformed into an unseen assassin when darkness fell and completed only the most daring missions (kidnapping, murder, and thievery were just a few of my successes). I climbed to the highest heights and gazed at the stars with the wisest of beings. I had rebuilt my shattered world, healing its wounds while adding a few new quirks along the way.
But yet again, my "untouchable" world was ruptured by another rite of passage: graduation. All of a sudden, it was over: the times spent discussing where we would meet the next night; the car rides spent talking about that girl who seemed just barely out of reach; those epic tennis matches that would last until the wee hours of the morning - all gone. Gone. Nothing but memories. Nothing but a tantalizing picture engraved on my mind that would always remind me of what had been. We all drove our separate ways, leaving the warmth and comfort of a world we knew for the fear and doubt of something we'd not yet experienced.
But did we allow this situation to pull us apart? Did we fall prey to the disadvantages of that word which strikes fear in the hearts of even the bravest, the most dedicated of souls: distance? No. I guess the world underestimated our ability to stay connected with each other. Where are we now? We're in Sioux City. We're in Decorah. We're in Ames, Spirit Lake, Indianola. Heck, I'm not even in Iowa anymore! We are Mustangs, Vikings, Cyclones, Lakers, Bulldogs. We're still united, and only getting stronger! Are we separated? Yes. But do we have the ability to overlook that separation and fight for those relationships that will benefit us for the rest of our lives? You better believe we do. And from that inspiration, we'll never waver.
So here I sit, twenty years old, and still an emotional nutjob that doesn't like pickles. I've withstood illness, maniacal drama, defeat, rejection, and salt poisoning. I've now entered my third decade of life. I'm stronger, faster, smarter, and more mature than ever, but at the same time, I'm still that awkward 10-year-old who wore the same sweatshirt every day of the week. A part of me thinks that I'll never get rid of that kid. Why? Because that was my first world - my first creation - and that small boy inside of me refuses to let that creation die. Will things ever go back to the way they were? Absolutely not. Time machines, while great in corny action movies, will never really exist on this earth. Yet what still exists, and something that will always remain, is the world that we live in right now. What we put into it is what makes it our own creation, and now that I have the knowledge that no world is untouchable, maybe I'll go about constructing this one a little differently. You know what they say: the third time's the charm.
Yes. Twenty years ago, on this exact day, I came into this world. The place? Olney, Illinois. The time? A couple of minutes before midnight. Of course I can't say that I remember anything about that night, but I'm told that I was quite a hassle. It seems that I did not want to abandon my warm, comfortable home for a world full of evil, deceit, and Cardinal fans. Can you blame me?
As anyone in my family will tell you, I spent the first ten years of my life crying. I was as much of an emotional nutcase as I am today, but back then, tears came with my everyday routine. There was always something that set me off. I wouldn't like how my older brothers would look at me. I didn't appreciate the way my older sister was talking to me. I didn't enjoy hearing my younger siblings fuss when they were babies and would join in with their cries of pain, fright, anger, and exhaustion. I was never very strong, and it showed. I was never the strongest guy on the team, the biggest guy in the lineup, or the roughest player on the field. Size and strength were not characteristics of mine.
But what I lacked in brute force I more than made up for with the power of imagination. Paired with my speed and intellect, I could be a pretty tough customer if the situation called for it. I would spend hours on end every day wandering around the yard, changing the grass into lava or the trees into evil soldiers that had to be defeated at any cost. The tree that I climbed every day became an irreplaceable monument in my life, and when I wasn't on the ground fighting off battalions of goblins, I was in the heights of the seemingly limitless world of branches, leaves, moss, and insects. That tree became my second home. I would spend my days climbing in all directions: up, down, backwards, diagonally... well you get the picture. It was quite a universe that I created, and every day brought new challenges, friends, enemies, and adventures.
But as history has taught us, all great empires eventually crumble. Not even my industrious kingdom, with all its power and glory, could survive the shattering explosion brought by the Great Move of the year 2000. This was the year my family decided to take a call to a little town called Galva in the northwest corner of Iowa. This was the time my parents decided to take me away from all that I had ever known. This was the fateful ending of an age that had seen me mature into a great warrior: an unstoppable hero whose power was boundless, his potential infinite. Yes, this is when I was forced to leave my world - a world of warmth, comfort, and hope - for something foreign, something unknown to me.
And yet through more tears, many fits of anger and frustration, countless fights, slammed doors, and hoarse voices, we all made it out the other side. Some of us were bruised and bloody, but we survived. The first few months were simply torture for me. I had never known what it was like to not have friends because I had been blessed with some really great ones back in Flora. Walking into that fourth grade classroom the day after Christmas break, I still remember all of those eyes staring at me, looking me up and down as if checking for weak spots. I still remember those awkward moments at recess, those many days spent alone at home, and those countless emotional battles that were constantly waging war inside and out.
But then came middle school, confirmation, my first crush, my first handful of friends, and sports. I was one of the most awkward kids in school, but I was no longer the "new kid." That label fled from me almost the second I stepped through those doors to start my fifth grade year. I had grown accustomed, somewhat, to how things were done in those parts. I was invited to a birthday party. I spent the night at some really amazing houses. I played some wicked dodgeball at recess. I was there for the birth of our first-class basketball team and was a key player as it grew stronger and more sure of itself.
And then came high school. Awkward freshman year, stupid sophomore year, but then glorious junior and senior years. Oh boy: two of the best years of my life, easily. I had the time of my life in concert band and somehow enjoyed myself even more in jazz band. I enjoyed playing an important role on our fantastic basketball team and powered through many tough moments to complete a successful career as a Pirate. I then shed my peg leg and hook for feathers and arrows to become a Brave for a Cherokee tennis team that added the terms "sub-state" and "state" to their vocabulary every year for three consecutive years.
Yet none of this compared to the group of friends I gained while winding my way through the maze of Galva-Holstein High School. The real reason the last two years of high school were so unforgettable for me was simply because of the time I spent with my amazing friends and the memories we created together. I became a runaway bandit for a night. I transformed into an unseen assassin when darkness fell and completed only the most daring missions (kidnapping, murder, and thievery were just a few of my successes). I climbed to the highest heights and gazed at the stars with the wisest of beings. I had rebuilt my shattered world, healing its wounds while adding a few new quirks along the way.
But yet again, my "untouchable" world was ruptured by another rite of passage: graduation. All of a sudden, it was over: the times spent discussing where we would meet the next night; the car rides spent talking about that girl who seemed just barely out of reach; those epic tennis matches that would last until the wee hours of the morning - all gone. Gone. Nothing but memories. Nothing but a tantalizing picture engraved on my mind that would always remind me of what had been. We all drove our separate ways, leaving the warmth and comfort of a world we knew for the fear and doubt of something we'd not yet experienced.
But did we allow this situation to pull us apart? Did we fall prey to the disadvantages of that word which strikes fear in the hearts of even the bravest, the most dedicated of souls: distance? No. I guess the world underestimated our ability to stay connected with each other. Where are we now? We're in Sioux City. We're in Decorah. We're in Ames, Spirit Lake, Indianola. Heck, I'm not even in Iowa anymore! We are Mustangs, Vikings, Cyclones, Lakers, Bulldogs. We're still united, and only getting stronger! Are we separated? Yes. But do we have the ability to overlook that separation and fight for those relationships that will benefit us for the rest of our lives? You better believe we do. And from that inspiration, we'll never waver.
So here I sit, twenty years old, and still an emotional nutjob that doesn't like pickles. I've withstood illness, maniacal drama, defeat, rejection, and salt poisoning. I've now entered my third decade of life. I'm stronger, faster, smarter, and more mature than ever, but at the same time, I'm still that awkward 10-year-old who wore the same sweatshirt every day of the week. A part of me thinks that I'll never get rid of that kid. Why? Because that was my first world - my first creation - and that small boy inside of me refuses to let that creation die. Will things ever go back to the way they were? Absolutely not. Time machines, while great in corny action movies, will never really exist on this earth. Yet what still exists, and something that will always remain, is the world that we live in right now. What we put into it is what makes it our own creation, and now that I have the knowledge that no world is untouchable, maybe I'll go about constructing this one a little differently. You know what they say: the third time's the charm.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Words of Wisdom
It's now been over a week since my last blog post. I've been looking for inspiration, and sadly, nothing has blown my mind quite yet. But there are a few options that I am exploring, so don't give up hope. There may yet be another post sometime in the near future.
I tried uploading a video of me accompanying a fantastic saxophone player in the first ever performance in the new auditorium in Holstein, Iowa, but I guess blogspot can't take the fullest extent of it's awesome-ness. And then I tried uploading a simple picture of my family to introduce them to all of you who don't know them, but again, I'm not sure blogspot can take how amazing they all are. So for now, I will leave you with this Bible verse. This is my confirmation verse, among other things, and as such, it means a great deal to me.
"Be faithful, even to the point of death, and I will give you the crown of life."
- Revelation 2:10c
This calls us to stay strong in the Lord, even when threatened with death, and we will be rewarded with God's grace and His boundless love. Where death is concerned, I sometimes get a little afraid of what will happen to me, but all I have to do is revert back to this verse and it makes me feel much better. Maybe it will do the same for you.
I tried uploading a video of me accompanying a fantastic saxophone player in the first ever performance in the new auditorium in Holstein, Iowa, but I guess blogspot can't take the fullest extent of it's awesome-ness. And then I tried uploading a simple picture of my family to introduce them to all of you who don't know them, but again, I'm not sure blogspot can take how amazing they all are. So for now, I will leave you with this Bible verse. This is my confirmation verse, among other things, and as such, it means a great deal to me.
"Be faithful, even to the point of death, and I will give you the crown of life."
- Revelation 2:10c
This calls us to stay strong in the Lord, even when threatened with death, and we will be rewarded with God's grace and His boundless love. Where death is concerned, I sometimes get a little afraid of what will happen to me, but all I have to do is revert back to this verse and it makes me feel much better. Maybe it will do the same for you.
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