27

I have written this entry so many times in my head, but each time it sounds silly and petty, and really not worth publishing. But here I sit again, writing away and attempting to put thoughts onto paper.

Something in the past few weeks has my mind racing, and each time I form a coherent thought, it seems that I must modify it; it is an endless cycle. So the rendition you read here may not be as tuned as the rendition I may conjure up tomorrow, my apologies.

So I am now twenty seven years old. What does that mean? And what have I learned? How far have I truly come? I will attempt to answer these based on my current understanding; please indulge me my long-winded nature, and I apologize up front for any boredom which may ensue from these monologs.

Beginning earlier this month, I had considered the place from where I had come, the years of growth and what I had learned. I even posted something last year on MySpace which really did an almost decent job of summing up my thoughts on the issue, but again I will lay it out here for you.

Our society is given to the idea that with age must come material witness of success, and wisdom shall also be expressed in such terms. Meaning, if one has grown older, his success should be marked by what he owns. If I am a successful business man, I own a nice car and wear a suit; if I'm good with people and have gained great popularity, I would have many social gatherings and my presence should be highly sought after. With age it also seems that financial success would be measured in such material terms - financially well-set people should own nice houses, clothes, entertainment, etc.

But I question that success.

Others in our society may argue that non-material markings would show success. For example, achievements. What has one achieved in his lifetime to mark success? Money is cheap, but fame is lasting. Right?

It is sad for me to look at what my world would call success, and realize that I do qualify for all of that success in my measure. I have two great cars, modern technological equipment, a house, hundreds, if not thousands, of friends, national fame for specific accomplishments, and even a great deal of nice clothes and entertainment. But what is the story behind that, and what does all of it truly mean? Am I successful?

I would answer that, yes, I am successful, but that it truly has absolutely nothing to do with those things mentioned above. In several cases, I would argue that what I have in material possessions and claims have hindered me, if not altogether blocked me from what I must define as success. If I had not these things, I wonder if it would have taken me until this twenty seventh year to begin to see what is truly valuable? Oh, I had an idea, and I believe that in my younger years I even understood the concept quite well; but it has become clouded with time and bustle. The bustle of getting on with life, moving up in the world, worries of every kind. Those types of worries which God despises.

And it is those same worries which now I fight.

My brother was married one week ago today (yes, it is Saturday, even if it is 1:01am). During and after the wedding, I began thinking rather hard on worry.

In the past, I have often volunteered for things like audio-visual assistance, general organization, master of ceremonies, kitchen help, and quite a few other types of help to people getting married, graduating, or even having simple birthdays and small parties. In each case, my body reacts to timing-based stress in only one way: it turns into one giant knot. Not comfortable, nor even productive, but that's how its always been. It often feels, as I realize afterward each time, that I hold my breath throughout, hoping all comes out well, or that I can make it appear that it went well to everyone else. And once its over, I breathe out and survey the aftermath. Only then do I see just how silly and frivolous my worry has been; does anyone remember an incorrect song choice during a dance, a short pause before a speech for technical difficulties, an absent dash of pepper in the wrong dish, or that RCA jack that had to be replaced last-minute? Probably not. But my body remembers, because I became quite literally sick at each juncture of "failure."

But at my brothers' wedding, I relaxed. My part was completed. All I had to do was follow the script, and enjoy the evening - which I did. Thoroughly. And afterward I thought to myself what fun it had been to allow the event to pass, to receive my instructions as I needed them, and complete my tasks as they were timed. I wasn't in charge, and I then had not a worry in the world. The smiles I had feared for so many months before, walking down the isles to and from the stage, were honest, brilliant and genuine - to the point that I was laughing because I was having such a good time. No forced grins or sideways wax-smiles. It was all so easy.

I made special effort to thank those who directed the event, allowing me to enjoy it, but in each case I do not think they could understand my contentment with their assistance, nor the freedom with which they provided me for the evening; I don't think they could have understood how valuable of a role they played in making that night one of the most blessed and amazing nights of my life thus far.

The next day I considered the freedom I had experienced, and immediately I wished that the same freedom could exist in my every-day life. To be able to step up to each task as it is assigned, to take it one moment at a time, and to enjoy each moment, rather than wishing them all to pass. This was the strongest desire I can remember ever having, and I broke down into tears thinking that, just perhaps, this was possible. At this time I also realized that I had built up everything in my life to my own expectation. Yes, I trusted people to help me, but not beyond what I knew I could fix or cover, should they ever fail. I allowed things to flow quietly until I suspected that there may be a problem or a hitch in the process, at which point I swiftly took back the control over each item to be sure it ran according to my plan.

This included my spiritual life, sadly. I realize now that I trusted God only to a point. If He failed me, or, rather, if I thought He had failed me, I took over again. This was not faith - it was testing to see if God would do things my way, and only trusting Him so long as He did.

For some time I've thought that hindsight is a cruel and harsh instructor, but when heeded, it can provide some of the most amazing learning. And I am looking back and learning today, this week, this year. As I allow myself to realize how stubborn, unbelieving, faithless and downright selfish I am accustomed to acting, I can see the clear answers to so many questions and frustrations I have had in my recent past. Frustration from lack of direction, lack of "success", requirements, expectations; questions about purpose and free will and the cliched meaning of life (no, it is not 42).

So many times we humans look in all the wrong places for answers to life's most important questions, and here I was guilty. But now it began slowly to make sense, to dawn on me, what my problem was/is. In my worrying, I demonstrated no faith, and in my control, I demonstrated no belief. There's a rather wrenching statement I have heard a few times which says that, "…even Satan believes in God." What does that mean? Does that mean that one can believe in God and still have no understanding or relationship with Him?? I strongly suspect just that. For that matched me exactly.

But in longing for freedom from worries and strife, and seeking a way to release my stress, I found my answer in my Lord. I don't know how I changed, or what it was that triggered my findings - for, honestly, I have wished for this all of my life; wished to understand my Creator, His purpose for me, and how exactly I should interact with Him. Its all so easy to simply say that we should worship and praise and thank Him, but at some point, coming down to the "brass tax" of the matter, that's still very ambiguous.

After the wedding, with these thoughts heavy on my mind, I began to try to change my lifestyle. I began to rely on God, not just in general or in a difficult situation where I had "no other choice", but in everything. Well, almost everything. I'm not there yet. I began with a song we often sing - the words simply shouting out, "…praise Him when I'm laughing…praise Him when I'm weeping…praise Him every season of the soul…" I began to will myself to praise God for the good things, the bad things, and everything in-between. Humorously enough, I realized that my "bad" things were utterly laughable in reality, but even that was a good place to start. And then I learned to remember to thank Him at every blessing I could point out (which turned out to be no few items). But at each shift in my thought process, a little worry was freed from me.

It is becoming a very important thing to me to remove the rest of this worry, and even now, so early in the game, I am seeing such amazing results. By simply recognizing that I have no control over many situations, though of course I have a preference of outcome, allowing them to pass as they will and receiving the results without requirement or expectation, I am slowly being freed from myself. At points where I have put an effort into something, I can begin to give up the control of the outcome, and just like with the wedding, someone steps in to see things through, and each time God does step in to take it up, I am amazed and I can't believe how blind and stupid I've been my entire life.

There is no point in life where things become easier. In fact, as Murphy's law would have it, all things pretty much just get worse and worse (my transliteration). But that ceases to matter now because my fate is not determined by life's ups and downs, nor are my attitude, compassion, love, personality and relationship with my Creator to be determined by such elemental and typical events. That is freedom!

I realize this is not anything new to many, or even all that profound; but then, perhaps its just something I learned a little later than everyone else. I am still thrilled to have begun to discover this though, and look forward to what it may do for the future.

As to my success, nothing I have or have accomplished can mark any real success; for success indicates an end. And the only human end is death -- can we take that hard-earned glass of orange juice with us through the final passage between lives? The company car, or the big TV? I don't think so.

But in these two things I am assured success: First, that I am right with God, and learning to understand His intention with Adam - the perfect unification of mind, will, heart and body, between God and man. Second, my interaction with the people who surround me -- am I living a life pleasing to God that would show my peers how God intended man to be? I hope I am now, and I hope that you may join me in rallying support, admonishing and assisting me in failure, and helping me to look toward the only success that has any meaning in this life or the next.

These are my musings for this year, and I wish to thank all of you who have been such great influences and advisors through my selfish years; some of you have taken a few too many hits from my wayward actions, and for those of you who are still around and willing to forgive me, I thank you - you are truly the finest in all the land that God has created and set here with me. If there is a birthday present for which I am most thankful as I move on to my twenty eighth year, it is you; thank you.

PT

Love is not a fight

Love is not a place
To come and go as we please
It's a house we answer in
Then commit to never leave

So lock the door behind you
Throw away the key
We'll work it out together
Let it bring us to our knees

Love is a shelter in a raging storm
Love is peace in the middle of a war
And if we try to leave, may God send angels to guard the door
No, love is not a fight but it's something worth fighting for

To some, love is a word
That they can fall into
But when they're falling out
Keeping that word is hard to do

Love is a shelter in a raging storm
Love is peace in the middle of a war
And if we try to leave, may God send angels to guard the door
No, love is not a fight but it's something worth fighting for

Love will come to save us
If we'll only call
He will ask nothing from us
But demand we give our all

Love is a shelter in a raging storm
Love is peace in the middle of a war
And if we try to leave, may God send angels to guard the door
No, love is not a fight but it's something worth fighting for

I will fight for you
Would you fight for me?
It's worth fighting for

Wedding Jitters Etc.

So they say its the bride and groom who usually have the wedding jitters - but I'd say that significantly undermines the jitters experienced by the others in the party. Hm, perhaps I am alone in that, but anyway its getting closer, and its getting scary. I've never had a brother married before, nor have I ever been a best man, nor will I ever be again. How in the world do I deal with that?!

Its extremely exciting, don't get me wrong, but its just.......odd. Im always saying how life is gradual so we don't die of shock, but this is perhaps not gradual enough? Hahaha well maybe its just me.

So I started Lindy Hop Level 2 over again today, and I am glad - it is good for me to repeat things. A lot. lol. I think it'll take a few more times through to get me up to a decent level of ability, but we'll see what I can do.

After that, Luke and Barry had me over - it was a blast, and I'm really happy I went. :) Beth was there too, then Rachel came at hte last part and we had a great conversation.

"Lord, what would you like me to do today?"

A new chapter?

I got a job at Apple today. I can't tell you how thrilled I am - even if for only the possibility of leaving Staples one day. But its overshadowed by guilt. Dustin applied first, and they rejected him for me; that wasn't supposed to happen.

But I am very excited, it could be interesting. Now I can test out what I have wondered for so many years -- how well I would do selling Apple products at the Apple Store. Haha.

Happy Endings

I must say, I do not understand happy endings.

Perhaps it is not something poetic, something original, or even something slightly intriguing, but it is so. However, it also seems to mark a common stage of life for everyone.

The small world we live in seems to represent such a paradox. There is the grand view, the universe, the "big picture"; everything that exists, the delicate balance in which it continues, the crazy detail and amazing fact that it it just keeps on going.

But from another angle it feels something of fairy tales, comfort stories and homey coziness. Like its all happened before, its all going to happen again, and whatever is now must pass just as the rest of life. We feel all caught up in our current situations, the problems and that happiness - the joy of life and the fear of it. But the next moment, it has flipped and we're in a new place.

And we forget where we were, because it has passed.

Now we're on to new, unexplored territory; the times we call exciting and future. But like everything else, it has happened before - and throughout history continues on. And endless stream of life.

But maybe that is wrong. What if that is what is supposed to have happened? What if the intention and design on life is just that - every moment created new, whether or not it has happened before? And young hearts feel tragedy and thrills because it is new, every moment; the mystery of tomorrow, the next time, the possibilities that await. For us they are still unexplored; for this moment nothing has happened before, and nothing matters.

What is next? Only continuing on, living, hoping, dreaming, and eventually, dying. Is it a wrap? Is it pointless? Is there no reason?

I believe the answer to all of the above is no. Perhaps there are happy endings, but I don't know.

So in my narrow, predictable, simple, and now hopeful, view, I continue to live; for who knows what will happen? No one can know. I just keep on moving forward, doing all those things humans love to do most, and I hope you will join me. Soon.

Memories

The night is chilly, but the atmosphere is excited. The cheerful answer is enough to shoot a thrill down anyone's spine. People crowd into the building, its tough to make our way through to see everything. The third floor is where things are most interesting, and where a little work needs doing. The color is dark.

***

Driving through the beautifully lit city, the excitement must shadow the evening. The time passes so quickly, who could notice the speed it happens. Arriving at the correct place its easy to park, though it takes a few minutes to find the correct building - driving through back lots, alleyways and finally hearing the music. This is a dead giveaway. The night is still crisp, chilly. The area is odd, not dangerous, but odd. The color is light blue.

***

Awkward moments can make the most impressed of memories. Those moments which are awkward, but where those involved never notice, make good memories. Staring into another's eyes is believed to create a window to the soul; though avoiding another's eyes does not entirely hide the sight. The touch is enough, starkly reminiscent of the greeting's effects. The color is pine.

***

Travel to a destination is often the most overlooked time of life; given the time it takes, however, it seems there should be made particular use of the experience, particularly given the company. But so used, it passes quicker, leaving curiosity as to the nature of time - how is it that time will pass quicker when one wishes for it to stand still, but slower than one might fear when awaiting something important just around the next minute-bend? The color is grey.

***

Food is overrated, for there is much to do with an empty mouth that may not be possible while eating. The background has faded and in view sits only another. That is, the other, in each case. Water is bliss, but so little; but it is enough. Others nod knowingly, comment snidely, and build assumptions based on anything they see, though in this perhaps they are hypocrite, or perhaps they are right. The color is orange.

***

The end in sight, one fears. But fear is irrational; can one truly lock perspective into a single view of only this moment? It is our nature; and no amount of time is enough. Relaxing, though, gives flight to words and thoughts; histories, and stories, and hurts and challenges. There is more. And more, but restrictions often hold a heart in place; the end comes. The night begins to fade, once again, but this time, permanently. Ill fated winds blow, and it is over; the night fades, all is dark. The color is Royal Blue.

Words

I have begun yet another blog, one devoted to words and debate - I hope you will check it out and participate, words are wonderful! Please have a look and let me know what you think. I'm open to any ideas for improvement too.

http://popaword.blogspot.com/

Hello Kitty

My cat moved into my room this evening, at my invitation; I had missed her greatly. And as I say by my fireplace, petting her as she "prepared" her blanket for her nap, I contemplated to myself. I began to talk out loud to her and even cried a tear or two in thankfulness. She may be whiny and annoying at times, but tonight I have found nothing quite as comforting as sitting and contemplating as I pet her. I slip into a deep thought, and I find myself pulling the strings on a draw-bag containing the summary of my last year. I shall hold it.

So what is up?

One might say a great deal has passed in the deceptively simple life of the small boy known as Pete, for to me it most certainly has. But the more I look back upon it, the more I realize it is not so much that has happened, but so much that should have happened long ago.

Mistakes, perhaps, could have been avoided, as well as outright sin and foolishness. But in the life of a human such things are bound to occur as simply a result of us existing. The only question, then, is what we can learn from the mistakes, blessings, failures, wins, losses, the fun, the harsh, and the good and bad times. I feel this is the crux of life, and will define each of our lives, as it has mine over the past year.

A friend recently posted an end-of-year philosophical look-back, and I thought it was markedly brilliant to do so. It was full of wonderful ideas, such as a list of items she'd done for the first time in the past year, and more specific areas of growth and maturity she had observed along the way.

Throughout the past year, I have looked back and seen often nothing but failure. With brief reprieves and occasional somewhat-hopeful looks ahead came also despair and misery, hopelessness, and essentially, Godlessness. Yes, I ran from God many times during the year. I allowed my heart to be clouded with depression, needless depression. Even up until this week it was so. And I've struggled with my faith, always battling my feelings and my frustrations, giving in to what I wished and desired and, only after finding myself in a miserable situation, finally crying out to a God I knew existed, but in whom I had so little faith that I could not see Him. Even now I feel that my faith is so tiny that I am as a baby. The simplest struggles now seem to take root in my spirit and steal my heart against my will. Yet, I never doubt the God of Creation, the God of Life. This seems to me a very compromising statement.

So again I examine the past year and hope to glean some wisdom, some understanding and some knowledge I can take away from the experiences, and in many ways there has not been a year before in my life so packed with the lessons of this life.

I may have learned the hard way; I may have seriously degraded my life and that of some around me, and I may have wasted time moping about silly things and worthless desires, but finally I have come out into the light and may begin filing what I have learned and moving on. Yes, it has taken me nearly an entire year to come to this point from even just a single life altering experience, but it has happened. So this baby believer is born. Or reborn, as it were.

I do not know what the final perception of my person is to all of you, curious as I am to know. But my most sincere hope is that, though many of you have seen me at my worst and most horrible moments, you have also seen that God is greater than all of my flaws. I hope that you carry away with you a sense of awe and amazement that even I, a simple man with evil thoughts in his heart, can be rescued from sin and death and brought to true Life in Jesus. Even I can be saved from myself. And that truly is what I know to have happened - I was trapped in my own selfish desires, fears, and vices; I was in bondage and could not free myself. To this day, I do not know what exactly transpired to free me, but I know that it would not have been possible if my Creator had not willed it to be so, willingly and freely was murdered in place of my execution, and raised HIMSELF from the dead to ensure that it happened. My God saves, my God loves, and my God is the only God.

I hope He is your God too. And if He is, please join me every day in thanking Him for his wonders; for without him, I would be a living dead man, still worthless and hopeless, and still wreaking havoc on everything I touch.

Memory

Drifting along with the air, changing direction several times a second, swept on by the irresistible momentum of the invisible wind, the smell is indescribable;

It pulls me back to so many years ago.

To my right is a broken down garage, the back side converted to a chicken coop. Beyond that, toward the East, is an old barn in nearly as bad of condition. To my left is a one-story rambler, North of me spreading out to a strange shape from all the additions made over the years.

To the true East, a garden lies tilled from North to South, lining a forest. To the West is a field where the neighbor boys play baseball, football, soccer, and nearly every other sport on Saturdays. The sun is bright directly overhead heating the pool, which is placed in the only spot where sun shines nearly all day without shade or obstruction, 10 feet in front of me to my left.

Directly in front of me is the tree - its trunk merely 3 feet around, but rising in a single form well over 25 feet before branching out. It is October, and the leaves have long since fallen, but the branches maintain a strange stick-like shape with pollenated spheres. They are about 4 inches long, with 4-5 spheres apiece, roughly 2mm in diameter.

The smell emitted from each sphere is not identifiable by any other comparable smell, for such does not exist. It is truly unique and, quite honestly, not extremely pleasant. I have often wished this tree did not grow just outside the window of my bedroom, but it continues to grow there throughout the 13 years I live here. I am 14, staring up at the tree - its become normal, friendly, though still not a good smell. The tree looks barren, but I have so many good memories of the times there, yes, it is friendly.

Nearly 12 years later, now exiting my store and strolling across the parking lot, the smell blows its way to me again through the time and ages, bringing back with it the memories of the old house and life.

I am glad to remember, and I enjoy the smell; I walk slowly and remember. Always remember.