Let's Get Thankful

Right now I am thankful for rock and roll in the morning that tells me "it's time to get up and GO!"

I am thankful that I have a place to come back to here on the east coast where I am welcomed by many open arms.

I am thankful for being able to study Greek on a holiday. (Wait, what?) Well, why shouldn't I be thankful? I am learning amazing things, like how to read the Scriptures in the languages they were originally written in. Why not praise God for that? (In all things give thanks.)

I am thankful for the computer that I so often hate, and usually with good reason. I am thankful that it lets me create and learn and then share those things with you.

I am thankful for wired electronics... they prevent a scatterbrain like me from loosing all of my gizmos. I am thankful for the endless fun I have untieing the knots that they inevitably end up in.

I am thankful for friends. Friend who forgive. Friends who love. Friends who care enough to go beyond the casual: "Hey, how's life" and actually want to know how you are doing and want to invest time in you. I am thankful for friends who will let you drink their gin, friends that will let you crash on their couch after a bad night, friends who will drive you to the airport at 3AM, friends who after 2 years of no conversation at all will just pick it up again like nothing ever happened.

I am thankful for school, after all, I'm paying for it... almost like I want to be here.

I am thankful for sisters who constantly let you know that you are loved and missed while you are thousands of miles away.

I am thankful for parents who always love to have you back at their house, no matter what has happened, no matter how long it's been, no matter what you've done, parents who still want you to call their home your home.

I am thankful that I am son the the Great King, the Creator of the universe, the Author of the Endless Russian novel, the Founder of the Deep Magic and Writer of the Hand Book. I cannot be crushed, because the King is my strength, He is my song, and He has become my salvation.

But what I am perhaps most thankful for this year is a lesson I just learned; the lesson of thankfulness. First thing I should lay down before I go further: Ephesians 5:1-4

"Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. But among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity, or of greed, because these are improper for God’s holy people. Nor should there be obscenity, foolish talk or coarse joking, which are out of place, but rather thanksgiving."

Look at the last word there, thanksgiving. It is the attitude that trumps all the others. It is the spiritual fruit that kills all those sins. Of course this needs to be true thankfulness in Christ in order for it to work, but believe me... it DOES work. On my worst days it has been a struggle, but when I can get alone and go for a walk and just start talking freely... instead of whining I try to get thankful. Pray earnestly on your knees, think about what you have and how you have been blessed. Stop the "oh, I can't stand that teacher" and give thanks for that teacher. Stop being frustrated by what you don't have and look around at what you do have; give thanks for it. Mad at someone, thank God for them. Have a task to do that you really, really would rather not do, be thankful for how it will grow you up and prepare you for the challenges that you will face in your future.

Not thankful? Well there is really only one remedy: get thankful... then you will be thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving, gang!

Cheers and stuff,
JSTT

Heart of Snow

Fingers cold
It's not snowing
Feeling old
But it's not snowing
Weak and weary
High of 70
Dark and dreary
Time to get out the paddles
Time to jumpstart the machine

The snow is somewhere else
But the drifts are piling up against my soul
The snow is miles away
But the sludge is plugging the holes
Time to melt it all
Turn the heaters on
God melt this heart of snow

I'd like to think I'm superman
That I'm the hero
That I'm the savior
But I'm nothing of the sort
Everyone builds themselves up so tall
So strong, so mighty
But they're nothing of the sort
They're nothing of the sort

Look inside, they feel it too
We all face our demons
We're all craven cowards
When the chips are down we all show our stripes
Kill your demons, burn your idols
Watch the future flower
Give up the power
The power you think you have

We're all chasing something
We're all chasing someone
We fight and fight and usually we fall
Because we bet it all
Without stopping to ask questions
Without leaning
Leaning
Leaning
Leaning
Leaning on the only One who matters
God the Savior
Lord the Maker

Go ahead, rail against my logic
Tell me I'm lost
Tell me I'm forgotten
I know it's a lie
And you know you lie too
Stop trying to stand up so tall
You just set yourself up to fall
Give up that heart of snow
And lean

Tiddlybits

This is the part of the show where I am on Thanksgiving break, but still want to share something with my loyal fanbase (yes, I know that is a dorky thing to call you), but since I don't really feel like writing essays right now I am basically just going to share all the random things that are on my mind. (Not literally, but metaphorically, because if I literally shared EVERYTHING on my mind with you right now you would probably become so frightened that you would never ever read this blog again, or even talk to me, and you would probably be left with only your stuffed rabbit Fred to share secrets with because everyone else would think you have gone completely mental......... which you would have.)

*scans over last paragraph*

Wow... I think MY brain just exploded. On to bigger and better things:

As many of you probably know, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 (I'm just going to call it HP7 from here on out) was just released this past Friday... and, well, um, I'm not going to exaggerate or anything (yes I am) but it is the best one yet. I have read at least two movie reviews calling it the Empire Strikes Back of the series, and while that is a very bold thing to say, it's kind of true. It's super dark, which is very appropriate considering where in the series we are, and also considering how lighthearted David Yeats made the last film. Way too many teen love jokes... considering that it was the film in which Dumbledore (Spoiler Alert) DIES!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway, this is gets the tone just right, and while some may complain over the fact that splitting the last book adaption into two films is just a cash grab by Hollywood (it very well may be), it gives the story more room to breathe. HP7 is crazy and dark and intense, as it should be, but it takes its own sweet time to unravel the story. The last 3 films in particular just felt rushed. In this one, all you Harry Potter fiends will have time to soak up all the little details and cameos and whatnots. I also predict that it will make most of the movie money this holiday season and probably take home some Oscars (special effects and sound design anyone?). I encourage you all to see it... but just one thing: don't take the kids.

Probably not as many of you are familiar with the band My Chemical Romance (MCR), or perhaps you were at one time and have since tried to block them from your physique. I understand, they get a bad wrap overall what with their last album being all about death and WWII and cancer. Since that time, however, most of the members of the band have gotten married. The lead vocalist, Gerard Way, even has a daughter. So after three years, having a kid, losing their drummer and nearly calling it quits on the band, MCR is back with their newest effort, "Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys." It's kind of like Kill Bill meets Mad Max meets Star Wars meets the 70s meets 1982... if those were all music records, I guess. Anyway, they are really different. They've gone.... pop. Plus the last song on the record is called "Vampire Money" and is basically all about making fun of Twilight. Sure, why not?

The Kids

Sometimes I wonder: why am I here?

"To glorify God and enjoy Him forever. Duh!"

But... but that answer is so enigmatic, so opaque.

"That's a horrible thing to say... you realize that, right?"

Well, yes... but no. I mean, how does that play itself out? How can I grab hold of that purpose and run with it? How can I make it my own?

*other voice is silent*

This is a conversation that I often have with myself. Life gets long, and it is incredibly short at the same time. It seems to drag on and on and on, and then the good bits just fly by like a Chinese rockets, bursting into a glorious spectacle of flame and then gone.

It took me a while, but I remembered something: the kids. Those little mites that are between 2 and 4 feet tall. The ones that feel more deeply than I can at this point in my life. The ones that laugh louder, cry harder, and set their eyes on goals with a fury that I can scarcely even imagine attaining myself.

I was that young once. I am not anymore. I have tried pretending to be that young again, but it rarely (if ever) works. More often than not I simply end up shirking duties that I DO have, and the short bout of childishness ends up not fulfilling after all. I need to stop kidding myself (pun not intended, honest), I am now an adult. We ALL need to stop kidding ourselves. Our attempts at innocence and childishness often fall so short of the real thing. Why is this? Because we spend too much time with other adults and far too little time with real children. We should just watch them. Watch. Listen. Learn.

Not only that... but we ought to invest. We ought to be investing in those that will come after us. Take their fire and use it to stoke yours. Share the spark that they have not yet lost. Chase down your life with as much passion as they do. This is not easy. In fact, it may be one of the most difficult things in the world. Jesus commanded we become like little children. I know you've probably heard that a million times... but think about it: Jesus commanded it. Since when did Jesus command us to do anything that was easy?

In summary: Being a kid is tough. Don't kid yourself. But don't stop trying, because, in a word, it's why we're here.

Storm

School is closed. This never happens in Moscow, ID... especially not to my school. The last time my school closed was the winter of 2007/2008 when 5 foot drifts piled up against the sides of the building. The only reason school was closed was because people couldn't get in. If the building had been accessible, and the roads complete trash school would have still been open. I am quite sure of this.

I left the UofI library at about 10PM last night, and the wind was starting to pick up. Gusts wiped across the bare sweeps of sidewalk and open spaces between the buildings. At the time I thought to myself: "oh, this is nice. It kind of reminds of of Winnie the Pooh and the blustery day." Oh, how little did I know.

By the time I had reached my apartment, the gusts were turning into rockets of air, shooting leaves off the trees like a cosmic leaf blower. I hurried inside and hunkered down in my room as my roommate played Call of Duty at full volume, drowning out the wind outside.

This lasted all to briefly, however. Soon the winds had picked up sticks and rocks as well as rain and hail and had decided to start buffeting the windows of our small apartment with them. This was made worse when my roommate STOPPED playing video games. I felt that at any moment the entire complex might fall over, either that or one of the trees come through the roof.

Plato being the furthest thing from my mind, I gave up on trying to write my Greek literature paper and tried to go to sleep. Yet another futile endeavor. The whole situation became much, much worse (at least in my mind) when at about 1AM I hear my roommate muse aloud: "wouldn't it be funny if the wind broke one of the windows."

I didn't get much sleep last night...

A Discrepancy

While watching a movie the other day with my roommates one of them started to fall asleep. He was the only one of us that had not yet seen it, and we probably would not have been watching it in the first place if not for him. Knowing that I probably would have wanted him to wake me up and whispered rather loudly: "Hey, I don't know if I should let you fall asleep or wake you up so you can watch the movie. Do you still want to watch it?" He promptly woke up and presumably remained awake for the remainder of the film.

This got me thinking though: almost every Friday at our school we have a specially guest lecture, debate, presentation or exhortation. We are required to be there to listen and the dean keeps attendance. But the weekly event, named "Disputatio" (Latin for a discussion or debate) by the facailty, has been dubbed "Naputatio" by the student body. Funny? Yes. True? Also yes. By the end of the week, most of the students are running on far too little sleep, and many of them (me included on occasion) fall asleep during these lectures.

It was at this point that I realized a bit of a problem: why are we ok with this? Why are we paying thousands of dollars to be here and listen to wise men and gain their wisdom only to fall asleep when they are trying to teach us. But buy a 20 dollar movie and you will do your best to keep your friends awake for the entire thing so that they won't miss a punchline. There is something very wrong with this picture.

Maybe we should start poking our neighbors in the ribs during lecture...

The Theater

I'm alone in the theater. Dim lights shine on the stage, illuminating a single stool, convenient for stand up comedy, holding a glass of water, or supporting a guitar player. The electric hum of generators and halogen bulbs provide a pleasant white noise as I look around. Blue, the theater is very blue. Not metaphorically, literally... like an interior designer ran amok with too much sky blue paint and floral print.

But I can hear myself think. I haven't been able to for the longest time. The pubs, the coffee houses, the apartments, the very streets twist and sway, keeping a beat, singing a song, debating some question or arguing with passersby. I've found the one building in town that, maybe, just maybe, is content keeping itself to itself. He's in his golden years... wearing on into the years where gray hairs start sprouting out of unsightly places. He bears it well though... he's been painted blue after all.

Horrid cracks have formed in the roof of the cave-like auditorium; white plywood holds it in place. Stitches to hold a massive cut on one's head in place, keeping it from growing any larger.

A sprightly young man walks in to the theater, toting a beaten guitar. He grins at me like a boy who's just found 20 dollars on the street. "Wanna hear a song?" his whiley face lights up when he sees me. Preferring to keep the silence I've just found, I reply: "No thanks."

He grins wider, if such a thing were even possible. "Well, I'm gonna play anyway." He rushes to the stage: "Man, it's been so long since I've been on a stage." He's a kid on Christmas, smiling through the botched cords. He apologizes for his rusty fingers, I tell him not to worry. I discouraged him once, I'll be more genial from now on.

With each new song he tries, his confidence grows and his fingers start to fly. Maybe the theater will remember this story too. Maybe it will tell it to others. Or maybe... maybe it only shared it with me.

My Legs Hurt

I'm not used to standing up. I'm bookish. It's the definition of college life, or at least the kind of rigorous college life that I have lived in the midst of for the past 2 plus years.

My legs hurt.

I suddenly feel not just mentally, but physically tired when going to bed.

My legs hurt.

I like it... it lets me know I'm alive. When I stop feeling pain, when I stop feeling altogether, then I will be worried. But not until then. I run the race. A tired cliche. Pile another on top until they are towering like a precarious stack of Jenja blocks. "Stop the flow of nonsense!" they cry. I laugh a little inside.

My legs hurt.

The weird thing about muscles is that when you use them for the first time they really hurt, but one of the best ways to make them cease to hurt is to use them again in the same way soon after the hurt begins. Looks like I'm going to go lift some more boxes today.

My legs hurt.

Write poetry. Praise God. Live... "it's all you can do."

A Beginning, Middle and End

Lately I've been reminiscing, looking back on the many, many adventures that I have had over the course of the past 21 1/2 years of my life. Thanks to a few good friends and relatives, this has been made rather easy. Five places immediately spring to mind:

-Burlington, VT... the place I was born, where my parents met, and where I built and played with many snowmen.

-Chagrin Falls, OH... a sleepy little town on the outskirts of Cleveland (which was once the steel capital of the United States) it is now firmly located in what is often called the "rust belt." The owner of the local hardware store knows my father and grandfather by sight. The ducks in the river probably know me just about as well.

-Lima, Peru... smack-dab in the middle of the driest desert in the world, one day of real rain causes mass landslides and countless deaths. The people are actually rather amicable though... except when they are behind the wheel of a car.

-Virginia Beach, VA... the first real big city that I lived in. This place galvanized me as a Christian and gave me someone the best friends that I have ever had.

-Jacksonville, NC... a military town nestled away in the outer banks of the Carolinas... I have lived there a grand total of four times, each time very different than the last. I have run all over the Marine Corps base there, and contracted many fire ant bites in the process. It's a swamp with bears and bobcats and the occasional gator.

I hope you will see as much of the world as I have one day. The adventures and places and people scream out, glorifying God even if they don't mean to. Because they make up the epic tale that is Creation.

The story continues...

November Playlist

-"Sing" - My Chemical Romance
-"Crossfire" - Brandon Flowers
-"Bloom" - Mae
-"Roll Away Your Stone" - Mumford and Sons
-"The World You Love" - Jimmy Eat World
-"Please Take Me Home" - Blink 182
-"This Addiction" -Alkaline Trio
-"Building a Better Me" - Dogwood

Soundtracks

Why do I love film soundtracks so much? It's one of those things that I never really thought of explaining before... I just always have.

But I found myself listening to the soundtrack to 127 Hours yesterday, and being profoundly affected... even thought I have not even seen the film. Why? Why? I ask.

Because there is something in a film score that we simply do not have anymore today. There is something in there that you cannot find in a piece of pop music. You cannot find it in a rap, nor a big band jazz groove. What is it?

A story.

The great composers of old have gone the way of the dinosaurs. In our commercialism-laden, capitalistic society, where making money is the only thing of real importance (cough, cough), the greatest writers of music are in movies (with the possible exception of Michael W. Smith). Danny Elfman, Hans Zimmer, James Newton Howard, Ennio Morricone, John Murphy, Klaus Badelt, Michael Giacchino... all the greats are now in film. And if they are really good (most of the ones I just listened are) they don't need a film to tell a story, because that's what classical music is all about.

Buy a film score without watching the movie or knowing the story. Listen to it, let the music tell the story. I dare you.

In All Things...

...praise God.

Praise God when you laugh.
Praise God when you cry.
Praise God when you sleep.
Praise God when you wake.
Praise God when you bleed.
Praise God when you heal again.
Praise God as the roller coaster drops you from the heights.
Praise God when the car rolls safely back into the station.
Praise God when things are spinning out of control.
Praise God when you shows you the underlying order of life once again.
Praise God when you cannot see the path in front of you.
Praise God when the lights come back on.
Praise God.
Praise God.
Praise God.