Life is good. If I can't start off by saying that, I can't imagine I should be taken seriously. Life is very good, and anyone who tells you differently is crazy, dead, or well on their way to one and/or the other.

I just turned 24 the other day. I don't feel like I'm 24. Most days I think I feel 19 with a chance of maturity. Either way, I'm not going to get caught up in any big self-reflective moment. I think people who get too sentimental, you know, the 'staring in the mirror to find out who I am' kinda thing - those people tend to miss out on some good parts of life happening on the other side of that mirror. I think maybe I'm 2 hours of sleep and a good tea short of some deep, poetic point, but I do think real life happens when we recognize that the real world, the one God created, is broader than the world we try to maintain for ourselves - a world I believe is described well by the mirror illustration. We create our own little worlds because we can maintain an illusion of understanding, order, and control - three attributes for which God has no expressed interest in His creation.

I like where this is going, but I need to get some sleep. I'll write more later.

(A note to start this one off: I've been throwing away a lot of junk lately, and tonight I came across this little bit I must have written back in late-ish 2004. I still like it, so maybe that means its worth sharing.)



Noisy. So noisy - even the cars are noiser than normal. And in the one real break I get from the cars, a noisy airplane decided to fly overhead, which is not as loud as a nearby car, but still is distinct enough a noise to open up a whole new dimension of 'noisy'. Just as the plane passed, I hear a go-cart approaching - you know, one of those homemade types built by people who regard mufflers as luxury features.



Then you have Starbucks. Talk about trying to manufacture culture. You don't create culture by playing artsy music and serving overpriced coffee to people who are richer than they realize, sitting at chess tables never used for their designed purpose. You get all the look and feel of community without having to really 'do' anything particularly communal. We still don't talk to our neighbors.

... Chess tables without pieces. It's all very symbolic - like light without heat, or noise without words.


Which is more noisy?

Living disciplined is very hard if you are not living disciplined. From my perspective, I am a very undisciplined person. I don't pray enough, read enough, write enough or sleep enough. I don't sleep enough, but I don't get up early enough. I eat too much, drive too much, and watch too much TV. I'm not enough on some counts and in excess on others, and in both cases a lack of discipline is evidenced.

...10 minutes later...

I haven't edited the paragraph above so I can make this next point very clear. I don't know what the hell I'm writing about. Can you tell? I think that's the case for any writer who descends into juxtapositions. At that point a writer ceases to be creative - cheifly because he is trying to be fancy. So here's a writing lesson for you: If you want to write well, stop trying to write well. Instead of focusing on how fancy your words are, focus on that which compels you to write, and is worthy of being discussed. The best stuff I've ever written has happened when I stop concerning myself with how I sound, and focus entirely on the heart of the subject at hand. Its why children's drawings are still the best art around. There's something magical about an innocent mind put to work. And really, I think innocence is at the heart of what we call 'discipline'. An innocent heart recognizes the ownership of the Father in all things - where our claim to ownership is effectively the source of all lathargic undisciplinedness - creating an awareness, congitively recognized or not, that life is a gift. And this awareness, when lived out, is very disciplined indeed. However, when lived out, 'disciplined' is not the valid term to the bearer of this awareness - his life is not so much disciplined as it is loved.

As I said before, "Living disciplined is very hard if you are not living disciplined." Beyond that, 'disciplined' is only what those not living in a proper awareness of God's love call those who are. If our awareness of God's love for us is in any way healthy, the natural outcrop of our lives is an uninhibited response of love. Through this, the daily 'disciplines' are no longer disciplines at all, but rather a response to God's love that is in fact very natural.

So why don't any of us 'naturally' get up at 5:30 in the morning to pray? The answer is because, in our sin, we each struggle to maintain the awareness of God's love that Christ has given us. Our sin contorts the truth that we are completely unworthy and yet completely loved with the lie that we earn our worth in God's sight. Under this lie, we spruce ourselves up and fancy up our resumes to try and impress God. Much like my shitty writing at the beginning of this blog, those efforts reveal themselves as empty pursuits of self, and not lovely pursuits of the Lover.

And so I thank God that He forgives us even in our attempts to get around His love. To cap this off, I'll quote C.S. Lewis, who quoted some person named Traherne, whom I assume must be an old philosopher since it is from a book titled Centuries of Meditation.

"Love can forbear, and Love can forgive, but Love can never be reconciled to an unlovely object. God can never therefore be reconciled to your sin, because sin itself is incapable of being altered; but He may be reconciled to your person, because that may be restored."