For Every Reaction...

Okay, I finally found something that I can write about. Yes!

You see, I think that some people are a little confused. To me, there is nothing more inspiring, or more frustrating, than a person who is passionate about their faith.

Now you might be saying "Woah, woah, woah, Spenc! How can being passionate about your faith be frustrating to someone like you?"

Well, I plan on enlightening you.

I love seeing people eager to spread the Word. I love seeing people who want to share the love of Christ. I love seeing people eager to bring another soul home.

Butttt

I hate! And I mean HATE- seeing Christians look down upon others who are not saved. I hate seeing people bash non-believers over the head with verses and pamphlets scaring them into salvation.

Who has ever been truly won to Christ by being told that they are a terrible person doomed to burn in Hell for eternity?

We are supposed to act with love, and if you ask me, (which I suppose you sort of are since you're reading my blog)scaring or guilting someone into salvation is going about it all the wrong way.

If you know me, you know I am adamantly against Abortion.
But you'll never see my car sporting a bumper sticker that says "Abortion is Murder" or any other similar 'catchy' phrase.

In doing so, I could likely turn away people who otherwise might come to Christ through a relationship or influence with me.


My favorite comedian, Demetri Martin, put it most eloquently:

“A lot of people don’t like bumper stickers. I don’t mind bumper stickers. To me a bumper sticker is a shortcut. It’s like a little sign that says ‘Hey, let’s never hang out.’”

That's exactly the way I see those bumper stickers. By placing such a blatant (although true) message, you are potentially ruining any influence you could ever have had on that person.



For every action, there is an equal and opposite same reaction.


"Woah now Spenc! Not again! That's not how Sir Newton put it!"

But that's because Newton wasn't speaking of how people react...


People react in kind. If you show love towards someone, they will return it. If you show (or they perceive) hatred, or any sort of malice, towards them or their actions, they will react in much the same manner.


Simply put- If you give love, you get it. And vice-versa


So think about it. What kind of a message are you sending to potential future Christians, directly or indirectly? Is it love, or hate?







P.S. And about that 'Prosperity Doctrine"... WHAT?!

Dear Facebook Users,

I do not want to know every second of your day.
Just because you have a cool phone and can update your status every 5 minutes, please refrain.
I do not care if you think Valentine's Day is lame. Write a blog about it, don't clutter my home page... sheesh.
I do not care if you have the hardest test tomorrow. Study retard, don't be on facebook.
I do not care what hours you are working today.
I do not care if you are getting a haircut.

However, if you have to update your status, make it something witty that might make someone smile.

Oh and P.S. The 25 random facts about you- I DON'T CARE!
I'm not going to thank you for tagging me in a pointless note, thereby cluttering my already hectic home page further.

haha i sound pretty upset in this... honestly, i don't care about it that much, it's just frustrating sometimes. i just felt i needed to rant and rave a bit.

If you're not in a relationship then nobody loves you. Sorry.

We're called to be in the world but not of it, but that unfortunately means that we are still subjected to all the skewed views and ideals this world has to offer. It frustrates me a lot of the time. Once I thought that it would be much easier if we could, as Christians, go live in a remote mountain area away from the world, but then I realized that people already do that, and they're called cults... So I pretty abruptly stopped that train of thought.

Lately I've had one particular topic on my mind a lot- relationships.

Here's how it seems to me.

WORLD: Hey kids! It's your old pal World here! Today we're going to be talking about a very important, very fun thing, relationships. The purpose of a relationship is to have fun. You should try to have as many girlfriends or boyfriends as you can. If you're not in a relationship, then there is likely something wrong with you... reject.

Okay, that wasn't quite serious. But I am serious about this stuff.

The worst part is, so many believe that, or at least something similar to that. Today's society has created a new generation of people that are so needy. They are practically depressed when they're not in a relationship, which ironically happens a lot since they jump at every poor opportunity to have a significant other. I look around, and I see all these people that either are in terrible relationships just for the sake of being in one, or I see the people who don't get it, the people who just can't seem to figure out this whole dating thing.

It's the people who don't get it that worry me. They are told, day in and day out, that unless they have a girlfriend or boyfriend, they aren't loved or cared for. Eventually, they begin to believe this. What could be further from the truth!?

Don't get me wrong, relationships are amazing!
...if you do them right.

They're not something that should be rushed or jumped into. They need to take time to develop. Don't date someone to get to know them. Get to know them, then if you're still intrigued by something other than those teenage hormones, contemplate dating them. Make sure it's somebody you can mature with, somebody who won't drag you down.

Create standards. Stick to them.

And so to my generation I say:
Have more self-worth! You are loved, no matter what your relationship status on facebook says! I'm pretty sure I know of a guy that is pretty good at loving, and filling all types and sizes of holes, you should talk to him.

You might wanna think about this. In the world, there are over 6 billion people. Out of those 6 billion, there is likely one person that will meet your criteria, so DON'T COMPROMISE!

Time.

Time.

What are you?

Sometimes you drip, slowly like the broken toilet in my downstairs bathroom.
Other times you seem to pass with a flash.

Why is it that when I want you to pass, you linger?
Or when I wish you would stand still, you run away?

Because of you, the sad are doomed to live long and sorrow-filled lives.
The happy never quite have time to enjoy what they have.

If time is money, then the happiest are poor.

If the happiest are poor, then why do we seek riches?

You're a cruel thing, Time, but when it comes down to it, I'd rather live an hour in an instant than a lifetime in a year.

Here's to short lives and happy people.
Here's to the instants.

I was reading this today, and it really struck a chord with me. Not quite sure what it is, but most of Seamus Heaney's poetry stands out to me.

Casualty

I

He would drink by himself
And raise a weathered thumb
Towards the high shelf,
Calling another rum
And blackcurrant, without
Having to raise his voice,
Or order a quick stout
By a lifting of the eyes
And a discreet dumb-show
Of pulling off the top;
At closing time would go
In waders and peaked cap
Into the showery dark,
A dole-kept breadwinner
But a natural for work.
I loved his whole manner,
Sure-footed but too sly,
His deadpan sidling tact,
His fisherman's quick eye
And turned observant back.

Incomprehensible
To him, my other life.
Sometimes on the high stool,
Too busy with his knife
At a tobacco plug
And not meeting my eye,
In the pause after a slug
He mentioned poetry.
We would be on our own
And, always politic
And shy of condescension,
I would manage by some trick
To switch the talk to eels
Or lore of the horse and cart
Or the Provisionals.

But my tentative art
His turned back watches too:
He was blown to bits
Out drinking in a curfew
Others obeyed, three nights
After they shot dead
The thirteen men in Derry.
PARAS THIRTEEN, the walls said,
BOGSIDE NIL. That Wednesday
Everyone held
His breath and trembled.

II

It was a day of cold
Raw silence, wind-blown
Surplice and soutane:
Rained-on, flower-laden
Coffin after coffin
Seemed to float from the door
Of the packed cathedral
Like blossoms on slow water.
The common funeral
Unrolled its swaddling band,
Lapping, tightening
Till we were braced and bound
Like brothers in a ring.

But he would not be held
At home by his own crowd
Whatever threats were phoned,
Whatever black flags waved.
I see him as he turned
In that bombed offending place,
Remorse fused with terror
In his still knowable face,
His cornered outfaced stare
Blinding in the flash.

He had gone miles away
For he drank like a fish
Nightly, naturally
Swimming towards the lure
Of warm lit-up places,
The blurred mesh and murmur
Drifting among glasses
In the gregarious smoke.
How culpable was he
That last night when he broke
Our tribe's complicity?
'Now, you're supposed to be
An educated man,'
I hear him say. 'Puzzle me
The right answer to that one.'

III

I missed his funeral,
Those quiet walkers
And sideways talkers
Shoaling out of his lane
To the respectable
Purring of the hearse...
They move in equal pace
With the habitual
Slow consolation
Of a dawdling engine,
The line lifted, hand
Over fist, cold sunshine
On the water, the land
Banked under fog: that morning
I was taken in his boat,
The screw purling, turning
Indolent fathoms white,
I tasted freedom with him.
To get out early, haul
Steadily off the bottom,
Dispraise the catch, and smile
As you find a rhythm
Working you, slow mile by mile,
Into your proper haunt
Somewhere, well out, beyond...

Dawn-sniffing revenant,
Plodder through midnight rain,
Question me again.

unlovable

You turn away from them, stab them in the back, then watch them run away.
everything feels just fine.

You turn away from them, stab them in the back, then watch them come running back to you.
it hurts so much more.

As Christians, we are not only supposed to, but we are commanded to love. Love everyone.

I write this as a failing Christian.

What do you do when you yourself have contributed to the hypocritical stereotype of the church, where you turn your back on those who don't have the perfect record? The church is supposed to be a refuge for all, most especially sinners. If the church is closed to them, where can they go but back to their sin, that welcomes and embraces them?

We are not taught to only love those who are easy to love.
We are not taught to feed the satisfied.
We are not taught to embrace the beautiful.

We are taught to love the unlovable.
We are taught to satisfy the hungry.
We are taught to embrace the wretched.

What purpose is the house of God if not as a haven for those steeped in their sins? Have we lost sight of the true ministry? Jesus didn't avoid the company of the unrighteous, he relished it. He sought out the miserable, the sickly, the pitiful. He held company among the adulterers, the whores, the liars, the beggars. And here we are, with barely the ability to reach out to even one soul in need.

I'm guilty of a crime of omission.

The Bible says that if you know the right thing to do, and still you do not do it, then you have sinned.

I am so guilty.

Tired

I'm tired of being told how to live. I'm tired of having social expectations. I'm tired of people always looking to blame anyone but themselves. I'm tired of Political Correctness. I'm tired of everybody being afraid of offending someone. I'm tired of the silent majority and its counterpart, the screaming, and unfortunately irrepressible, minority.

Get out.
Say what you believe.
Offend someone.
Become the majority with a voice.

The knotted stomach,
The shaky hands,
The persistent nausea,
And of course,
The inability to focus on any task at hand.

Then you wonder,
Have you been given an opportunity,
Or a get out of jail free card?
(The latter please...)

Calculus + Grrrr

Call it what you will (peer pressure anyone?), but I too have felt a compulsion to unleash my innermost thoughts on you, my most evil rival, calculus.

I'm just gonna have to say that I don't get it. I mean, I don't get calculus, as is apparent by my ever declining grades in class, but I don't get why it is so difficult to understand. Until this year, I would have been quick to tell any who would listen that I was indeed a math-person. I got math. I liked math. I liked the challenge. I liked the ease with which I grasped new concepts, while others around me began to faulter and fail.

I liked math.

I'd like to take this moment to put into words a conversation that I had. It was between me, and a certain faceless character named Calculus. This was the conversation that took place:

Me: Hi, I'm Spencer, I like math, I'm smart.

Calculus: Oh yea, let's see what we can do about that.

Me: Ouch! That hurts, you are crushing my head with nonsensical symbols and formulas that everyone insists I may need, but everyone knows they never will!

Calculus: So, what do you think of math now?

Me: I hate it! I hate you! You're a monster! Damn you! Damn you to Hell! Burn! You spawn of Satan!

It wasn't really a good day dream, but I like to think that if Calculus was a person that he (because everyone knows calculus couldn't possibly be a girl since girls have brains much too small to be able to comprehend such a manly topic) would be such a douche... But maybe, just maybe, we're too hard on Calculus. Maybe, he's a bully because that's all he knows...

Calculus: [Sob] Mom! Nobody gets me! Everybody hates me! I have no friends!

Calculus' Mom: Honey! That's not true! I'm sure lots of people like you!

Calculus: Oh yea!? Who?

Calculus' Mom: Well... Uhh... I'm sure that smart young Tilley child likes you!

Calculus: No... He just wrote a blog, and it said he didn't like me. They say I'm a bully and that I'm too hard and difficult to understand...

Calculus' Mom: Well, are you? I wasn't going to say anything, but I did get some calls from kids at school's mothers, and they weren't to happy about what you were doing to their kids. Honey, maybe you should just ease up on them, you know, drop the random symbols and algebra. Maybe you should start hanging out with Algebra 1, he might rub off on you.

Calculus: You think?

Calculus' Mom: Of course honey! You just need to loosen up and be nicer, then they'll be sure to love you!

Calculus: Okay, I'll try mom. Thanks for talking with me.

Calculus' Mom: Anytime honey, you know I'm here for you.

Maybe one day, a conversation like that will actually happen, and the world will be filled with Calculus-lovers not Calculus-haters. Until that day, FIGHT THE POWER!!

The Choice is Mine Yours

I guess it's the way things work. Simple economics will tell you that eventually, no matter how high something is, it will come down.

Life is very much this way- a general feeling of happiness, interrupted by spurts of intense emotion.

I've heard it said that even a blind squirrel finds some nuts, or even a broken clock is right twice a day, meaning that everybody's always right sometime.

However, I think a more applicable interpretation would be, "Even the happiest have sad days."

It almost seems like a cruel fate that no matter what, there will always be points of sadness in our lives.

We have two choices when we do hit these potholes in our metaphorical happy highways:

A) Give up. Life's too difficult, you wouldn't have made it anyway. Besides, if you're not trying, then you can't possibly fail. right?

B) Suck it up. Life is difficult, that's what makes it a challenge. "That which doesn't kill you only makes you stronger" may not apply, but at least you're still alive, that's gotta mean something. Today may not have been a peak day, but if you don't give up, you've got the most valuable thing- a second chance. Tomorrow is another day, and if you can't make things better by tomorrow, you've always got the day after. It will get better.

Give up, or suck it up, the choice is mine yours.

No more.

It seems that I am out of ideas to write about.
No more material to go on a tirade about.
No more epiphanies of great magnitude.
No more strong negative emotions to fuel introversion.
No more darkness that hangs over me, threatening to engulf me.
No more anxiety over an indistinct future.

I'm just plain old happy.

thanks.

Judas's Carrot (Judas Iscariot)

Judas Iscariot, the timeless villain? Or exaggerated sinner, sentenced to be forever remembered by his darkest moments?

It seems that so many are quick to blame Judas for Jesus death, and they have good reason to do so, however the utter disgust that he is viewed with disturbs me. Judas was a man! We all sin! The unfortunate fact for this particular man is that his sins will forever be remembered in writing.

I think that one of the reasons that there is such universal dislike for Judas is due to the fact that nearly all can see themselves within him. And they hate it.

It's ironic, but as humans, we are often appalled by those who possess character flaws similar to our own. It is the thief who is most angry when stolen from, the liar when misled, the adulterer when cheated upon, and so forth. Perhaps there is some truth to the statement that we hate Judas, because we can relate to him. We are afraid of the simple truth-- we are just like him. That we are all capable of condemning even the Savior of this world. And we hate him. We hate him for opening our eyes to the horrible deeds that we are capable of.

Judas was a disciple. To all around him, he was a fine example, however as we now know, his heart was not always in the right place. As the disciple responsible for the money, he often succumbed to greed and withdrew some for himself. In fact, it was greed that led him to hand over Jesus as well.

Who among us has never succumbed to greed?

Let us try to embrace him, as we would a brother in need. Embrace him because we are alike. Embrace him because we are no better.

-because we're not.

Memories

I like to drive. It gives me time to think, time to reflect upon myself. When I'm driving I immerse myself in my thoughts, hardly paying attention to the journey, for my mind is far from where I drive.

Often, I have much to reflect upon on my drive home from small-groups. Tonight was no different.

My thought process began with a song- Heard the World. As I listened to it, I was flooded with memories of when I first heard this very song. While, half-naked tanning on the roof during a church trip may sound unappealing to some, to me it is a fond memory.

My thoughts then took another direction. I began to weigh the value of memories. Memories are priceless. The very sight of a picture can flood one with emotions, a smell can trigger a smile, even terrible songs can bring back fond memories.

And as I pondered, I realized what I most fear. I fear, that one day I will begin to lose my memory. I fear that things that I now hold dear will be forever lost to me. I fear that I will cease to be me.

For without memories there cannot be a self. If I lose my memories, then I will surely lose myself.

Technically, this point can be argued, but let me divulge my reasoning behind my statement.

I have made many mistakes in my short life, if I had no memory of them, what would prevent me from repeating them? There are so many that I love and hold dear, what would prevent them from becoming blank faces, forever lost to me?

I am afraid that one day I will lose my memory. I will cease to be me. Surely I will still exist, but a lifetime of memories and learning will vanish, leaving a withering shell.

Maybe I don't fear so much what will become of me, but more how much pain will be thrust upon those who love me. I would rather not even imagine the pain of being forgotten by someone whom you love. How would my children feel if they were suddenly just another face in the crowd?

And so, I pray that when I leave this earth, it will be with all of the knowledge, and all of the love that I have garnered on my short time here. Don't let me lose it.

Terry

Tonight, I had dinner with a stranger.

He has been working his whole life, mostly part-time jobs.
He's lived in every state, even Canada and Mexico.

Lately he's lost a lot of work due to the influx of Hispanics.
But he's not bitter.
Lately he's been having financial troubles.
But he's not worried.
Lately he's been forced to resort to humiliating means for money.
But he's not humiliated.

Lately he's been living under a bridge.
But he's not complaining.

His name is Terry, he's well into his 50's, possibly even 60's, and homeless.

The most amazing thing is, he lives life one day at a time without worry. He confessed to me that his favorite verses dealt with how we are like sheep, and the Lord is our shepherd, caring for us through all things.

This guy lives on $10 a day, the least we can do is be thankful for what we have in such abundance.

Contentment. It's a word that is often overused, a word that many like to use to avoid questions, a thing that is often just out of reach.

Good thing i have long arms, cause right now, nothing's out of reach.

Little Things

Today was a tough day. Monday's normally suck, but today had a little extra suck in it. I was tired, my oj-sprite mix was off, I forgot two homework assignments, and I had a quiz in Spanish.
Altogether not exactly the ideal Monday.

Until I got out to my car, where a most excellent mix, unbeknowsnt to me, sat on my seat.

thank you.

Everyone Has a Story.

This weekend I talked to God.

I was watching a fire, watching it dance as if it were trying not to burn itself, thinking over my story, and I began to talk to God. He didn't have a booming voice with a slight English accent, nor did I see any lights other than that of the fire, but nevertheless, I'm certain it was real.

A thousand questions were running through my mind, but three were repeated more often than the rest.

Why did you let it happen? Why didn't you step in? Why didn't you tell me where I was headed?!

Then the most extraordinary thing happened, something that I have never experienced, something that was to me, totally unexpected.
He answered.

would you have listened?

And that was it.

With one question, He had answered all of mine. With one question, I was calmed. With one question, I regained my trust in Him.

He had never left me, not even close. I had left Him.

But I'm back.

Everyone has a story, it's just a matter of listening.

The good thing about our live's stories, is that they don't have to end. There is no author that decides that this will be a story ending in tragedy, expressing a fundamental flaw in our character. There is no governing force that lays hold of our fate. There is no plot outline that we must follow. Everyone has a story.

Ever had one of those times?

Have you ever had one of those times when you do something, on accident of course, and everyone gets mad at you, but you thought it was funny until you realize that they aren't really sharing in the joke, then you start getting upset cause you just messed up their stuff and then they realize its not such a huge deal so they try to tell you that its okay but you know its not and that they hate your guts and even try to drive off without you, but by some miraculous force, they accidentally hit the unlock button on their car, allowing you to get in and get a ride home instead of walking the 5 miles, and all the while they're playing john mayer and plotting how to get their revenge on you for spilling hot chocolate on their jacket, and then you're afraid to see them at school cause you know there's gonna be like a mob that's gonna jump you and pour hot chocolate all over your nice school clothes and then probably kick you or something?

Cause, that happened to me.

Responsibilties

It seems that epiphanies are becoming a common theme in my life lately. It hit me today, I am on the very edge of something very important. To be honest, I'm not exactly sure what it is, but I know that something is happening that will forever be a part of me.

I'm 18. Legally that makes me an adult, although the scary part is, I don't feel anything closer to being one. Now, not only can I live for my country, but I can die as well. I can marry. I can garner credit. I can buy a house. Oh and there's also the little fact that I can completely ruin my life by making poor decisions now.

There is, I believe, a point in most everyone's life where they realize that they are no longer a child, that they will in fact eventually grow up, despite what Peter Pan may have led them to believe.

Tonight, it hit me.

I have been planning for the past 3 months to spend 8 days in England with my family. A vacation from school, from responsibilities, from all that is piling up. A week of bliss, without cares.

But I am no longer a child.

Unfortunately for me, I never stopped growing up, and now whether I want to accept it or not, I am an adult. I can't run away from my responsibilities. As an adult, I cannot just forget about my obligations. A vacation would merely be me running away, postponing the inevitable.

So tonight, I have decided. I am not going to England. I am staying home for school, something I never would have imagined myself doing. I am pushing pleasure to the side. I am taking up responsibility. I am changing.

I'm Spencer, and I am an adult.
This really is a new me. I just hope that this new person is who I really want to be.

Blogs

Blogs are great, people have done all sorts of stuff with 'em.

You can vent. You can whine. You can write well. You can write terribly. You can talk about other people without them knowing it. You can have your parents get all sorts of emails from the pornography detector on your computer cause 'naked' is in the address of your blog.
Heck, you could even ask Chelsea to homecoming if you were so inclined.

COUGGHH

a first for blogging kind? i think so.