Surrounding my house exists woodchips where flower-life is planted to grow. The annoying thing about winter is that when spring rolls around, you find that other greeny plants have been growing in that plantless season - weeds. The other day my parents gave me the copious duty of tearing out those green devils from the soil they had embedded themselves in, not an easy task. I was out there for a good forty-five minutes in the merciless sun and still hadn't got done my designated section of weed digging (which was not that large, mind you).

There are a variety of parallels that I drew from my weeding experience (hey, you have to keep yourself occupied during such a boring activity!). I think first of all, one must recognize the seriousness of weeds in their own life. In plant-sense, weeds are green and deceptively look similar to their flower counterparts, but end up taking water and choking the flowers they are next too - similar in nature in the Christian walk. Some things in life appear to be harmless and may have good intentions at the get-go; however, later down the road a self-serving weed may bloom out of a simple seed. Furthermore (as I found out personally) the simplest blade of grass has roots buried deep, some not even directly beneath it.

When weeds of sin are fostered alongside good character, it becomes a conscious competition between human and Godly desire. To root out those wicked weeds, it will take patience, and even a very long time to fully get to the end of the weed. But when the weed is finally uprooted, how joyous is it! New growth is then possible where a deadened nature once thrived. Pray earnestly this day for the perseverance of treating weeds and for the want to give up the ground in your life that you've let weeds grow.

Labels: devotional

"Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and there are few that find it." Matt. 7:13-14

Church was packed yesterday, because it was the first night of the two-day Truth Project conference. There were no parking spots at church, so we as Andersons go to Plan B when such a scenario usually takes place: we park at Grandma's house. Grandma's house is across the basin and up the hill outside of church, so naturally, it's a pretty smart parking spot to utilize when parking trouble occurs. After the Truth Project, we made our way across the basin in the dark and frigid air. I was too cold to be traveling the same pace as the rest of my family, so I went ahead and reached the small hill and proceeded to climb up. About half-way through, however, I found that the ground had lost its stable quality and turned into a muddy mixture. Exasperated, I turned to tell everyone not to come this way because of the mud.

We as Christians are mandated with a similar call. We are no greater than every other human being; a chief difference distinguishing us and the world is the object of our worship. Being a Christian in part is the ability to acknowledge our sin; those outside of Christianity are captive to it and cannot see it. Having been saved by God's grace, we know the stakes of a life without Christ, the wide and broad path - however, not everyone in the human race is aware that faulty ground exists in that pathway. Having experienced and understanding the devastation of sin, who are we to not call back to the rest of the world of the danger ahead? We as Christians cannot keep bottled up about a disorder that leads to death, can we?

Pray that we as individuals gain the forthrightness to approach those on the unsure ground. We must warn those who rush toward doom unknowingly.

Labels: pathways

"Even the just may sin with an open chest of gold before them."

Oh gee, it's been like four or five months since my mp3 busted, that shoddy-manufactured device. Creative ZEN. I saw someone who had one and was amazed. Too amazed, unfortunately. I did further research and was drawn in. It had a couple interesting features that the iPod didn't have, including the ability to play wma music files in accordance to mp3s, an internal radio, voice recorder, and other utility freedoms. I just had to get it, and I bought it with my own money; 'twas giddy as a little boy on his first day of school when it finally came. And then it busted a month or two later. Very tragic, I was heartbroken. The symptoms started off small... for instance, I feared the worst when it froze up on me, but I managed to reset it and it returned to full working capacity - unfortunately it was only a taste of things to come. The freezings began to occur more and more frequently, resetting the darned device became a normal activity. This happened for a while until it reached the present state that it's in now: the touchpad is more or less broken, jeopardizing the ability to turn the player off or to even consciously choose songs.

I can connect so many of these ideas to sin. We as fallen human beings choose to sin because we are drawn to the added little features and freedoms that come with it in contrast to God's plan. Being drawn in, we enjoy it for a little while, until the effects of brokenness start to take shape. The consequences may start off as inperceptible to the victim, but they steadily increase in force. What became a small side-effect becomes a ruling factor of your life. This is where my Creative ZEN and my message does not fit in. There is no hope for redeeming my device; yet God in His infinite love and mercy has provided a way to become new once again, to have full functional ability if we come to him in repentance. Trust in God today and break free of the bondage of sin.

There are some things money can't buy: a quality iPod imitation and divine regeneration.

I never did very well in math - I could never seem to persuade the teacher that I hadn't meant my answers literally. ~Calvin Trillin

Today sucks. It's bad enough that it's a Monday. What makes it worse is that I probably failed my math test, bumping me out of B range after making significant progress in raising my grade. I must be doomed to C-age for math... I can't stand math. Or is it more than just math? It's Miss Fendley, yeah, I blame her. In fact, I was well prepared going into the test (sounds like the all-to-familiar physics exams) due to the homework I've been doing and examples in class. Yet it seems that on every cursed test, Fendley pulls another trick out of her sleeve onto the dastardly white piece of paper that I'm supposed to know answers to. Doesn't work that way. Sorry Fendley, but if you want people to consistently do good on your tests, perhaps you should shake off your mentality and assumption that we know exactly what you're talking about, and actually do what you are mandated to do which is teach. I'm not in the lowest math (which the majority of the school is in, and what a horrible program that is), I'm in 80's. Normally, I should feel pretty good about myself, but today, I feel dumber than a bag of beans (if beans in a bag equates stupidity).

I wrote this poem this morning... rough draft...

Error

I’m the choke you cannot swallow
I’m the moldy marshy-mallow
I’m the rotten in the pear
I’m the split-ends in your hair

I’m the fart that can’t be silenced
I am entropy and violence
I’m the words you can’t replace
I’m the pimples on your face

I’m the poem not complete
I am failure, sound defeat
I’m the sandy-bar and shoal
I’m the piece of gum you stole

I am headache, I am hunger
I am lightning light and thunder
I am fever, I am chilly
You can never, ever kill me

Labels: math, poetry

Labels: video

Do people just get lucky?  Or is it possible there are no coincidences?

Labels: popcorn

It rained a lot yesterday.

Labels: rain, worms