Senioritis

I'm beginning to feel the effects. There's a high possibility the condition has been exacerbated by the fact that I'm only taking 12 hours this semester, and 12 hours the next. Homework assignments and art projects that formerly dominated my life and carried the full essence of my self-worth are now eclipsed by the realization that in 301 days, I'll have a college degree in my hand and no clue what I'm going to do with my life. Getting a C on my latest paper doesn't seem that earth shattering any more.

It's time's like these, these sobering moments of self-reflection and pondering the future that it's important to remember the sovereignty of God. When my relationship with God grows stale and He seems so distant, I forget that He is intimately involved in every aspect of my life. I begin to worry about whether or not I'll be successful in my chosen career path, will I actually be able to make it on my own or will I miserably fail at life. Will I even choose the right direction? All those worries are complete and total drivel, because I have absolutely nothing to worry about. The one thing that should occupy my thoughts and have my undivided attention is whether or not I am loving God with all that I am, submitting to Him as my King, and trusting Him as my Father. The rest will fall into place, and my life will be something that I can look back on with no regrets.

To live would be an awfully big adventure.

Fatty gobbetts...

Semi-serious injuries are quite entertaining. For example, I cut my hand open while sledding yesterday. When you live in a building with 180 other people, all stuck inside because of the snow, a little bit of blood and some dramatic screaming always draws a significant crowd. Anyways, I was stupid (as any 19 year old in college has a right to be) and decided it would be a good idea to hurl myself down the death slope next to the 100 steps without a sled. One of those "here, hold my beer" moments. Except there wasn't any beer involved. I'm not sure if that makes it even more pathetic.

I guess "cutting my hand open" might be a little overstatement. Whatever decided to attack my hand during my rapid descent thought it decent to only go fat-deep. Not all that serious, though time will tell whether or not I should have gotten stitches. Still, seeing one's fatty tissue peeking through several layers of skin to blubber out "hello!" is enough to make one nauseous.

I would like to say that I have wonderful friends. Specifically, my sister-in-law who took incredible photos of all the blood, and my brother who gutted it up and scrubbed my hand as hard as he could. Oh yeah, that dramatic screaming I was talking about? That was him.

Okay, I'll admit, I might have screamed too, but considering the amount of blood that was pouring into the sink, I believe it was entirely justified. So, nearly 24 hours later, the wound has ceased to ooze bodily fluids and appears to be on track to recovery.

Moral lesson? ... Well, the best thing I can think of, if you're going to do something idiotic, I would advise being under the influence of alcohol. At least then you'll have a decent excuse, unlike me.

Humdrum de dum...

And yet I'm still writing, and you're still reading, which probably means you've been afflicted with "it's week two of Christmas break and I don't have much else to do other than write on my blog...or read someone else's blog".

The coffee was quite excellent this morning...

Oh yeah, and I had a biscuit. So apparently I have nothing witty or useful to contribute to your life today. I hope this has at least been a pleasant distraction for two minutes of your life. Now go check facebook and see what your 326 other friends are not doing while they're bored out of their minds. Good night, and good luck.

Oh wait, it's morning. Frowny face.

Making progress...

In February of 2009, I started taking apart my Dad's old SR500 that was sitting (rotting, really) out in the barn. I had every intention of putting it back together, hopefully in better condition than I found it. I pulled off every piece of that thing, the engine, the wheels, the swing arm, everything. Once I got it down to the frame, I decided that given the extent of the rust and corrosion, it should be sandblasted and repainted. It took a few weeks of just trying to get the sandblaster working to realize that I had nowhere near the expertise necessary to do the job. Frustrated, I put the project on hold.

More than a year later, the project has been revived. Just this morning I took the frame, swing arm, kick stand, and a few other parts in to get sandblasted and powder coated. The engine got pulled out and was given a thorough cleaning, toothbrush and all. It still has a good deal of dirt, grease, and grime to be removed, but it looks worlds better than it did. If I stay on track this time, I may have this thing roadworthy by the end of summer.

Big if.

And it's done.

Tonight we had the premiere for the JBU COAST film The Crossing. After two semesters of work, many long nights, and countless occasions of freaking out realizing that I'm also a college student and have other responsibilities...it's done.

And what a way to finish.

We showed the film in Bynum theater, the largest room on campus with a projector. We thought 151 theater style seats would be enough. Ten minutes before it started, we were setting up about twenty five extra chairs, and there were still people standing up in the ailes. Needless to say, having almost 200 people show up to watch your movie is a good feeling. A really good feeling.

And now I shall sleep. Precious sleep. It's good to meet you again.

What it means to fall on Jesus

I love flying. Since I was six years old,I've been fascinated with things that soar through the atmostphere. I've flown in massive military cargo planes, small economy jets, tiny high performance gliders. I love the feeling of acceleration as a plane takes off down the runway and is literally sucked into the sky. Despite the fact that I know WHY a plane full of a hundred people and thousands of pounds of cargo is able to overcome the forces of gravity and soar through the atmosphere, it never ceases to amaze me. Sometimes it seems like being a Christian is like stepping onto a plane. You know where it's going, you know it's worked for other people before, and you know the pilot has gone through years of training to do this job. No matter all these facts though, there's still an element of faith. Faith that the wings will stay attached to the plane, that the engines won't give out, that the very aerodynamic forces that keep the plane aloft won't mysteriously cease to exist.

But there's an even deeper form of faith. I didn't understand what it was until last summer, when I and several of my best friends not only got on a plane, but left it midflight. I still didn't understand it 'til days later, when I thought more about what had happened. I'm not saying that me jumping out of an airplane made me a better Christian. I'm saying that it helped me understand just a little more of what Christ wants from us.

When I jumped out of that airplane I had only known my instructor for about an hour. I didn't know how many times he had jumped, if he was mentally stable, I didn't even know his last name. But I trusted him with my life. Why? I don't know. I was so excited about getting to jump that I didn't think about that 'til afterwards. But thinking about it, I realized that having a relationship with Christ is kind of like going on a tandem jump. When we trust Christ completely, we don't have to know how to do everything he ask us to do. We don't have to understand why the parachute keeps us from plummeting to our deaths. We don't have to know how to operate the cords that steer it down. We don't even have to know where the landing zone is. All we have to do is hold on to Him, and jump. He will do the rest. That's what we do when we become a Christian.

Why do I write this? I keep thinking about what we as Christians do so often. I don't know how many times I've heard someone say "well I need a Bible degree before I can go into ministry", or "after I get out of school, I can start serving God". We think that we need a piece of paper, some flimsy certificate, to qualify us to be a servant for Christ. I'm not saying education is bad. I say it's not enough. If we put our trust in our own earthly knowledge, even earthly knowledge about heavenly things, we'll only be getting on the plane. But if we put our trust in Christ's awesome power to save, and in the Holy spirit's guidance, and the Father's love, we will experience the thrill of jumping OUT of the plane. The thrill of losing control, abandoning safety, and falling through the air with the wind on your face. And only when you're at a complete loss to do anything for yourself can you experience the feeling of having Christ catch you.

I think that God calls us to do great things. And so often, we reply "God, I don't know enough yet!" But He doesn't care. Don't waste your energy on the future, it will never come. All God wants us to do is to trust Him here, and now.

It's dusk right now, so I wrote this.

I like making pretty pictures. Motion pictures that is. It's hard to tell someone who's never experienced it what it's like to stare through a viewfinder and see your lighting, composition, and dynamics all come together into a beautiful harmony that tells a story without the need for words. I love being behind a camera. That said, here's a picture of a fish.