As a proud member of the Star Wars generation, I just returned from seeing the new movie. Wow. I must say, it’s quite an experience to grow up with the original trilogy, play with all the toys, and now watch the phenomenon happen all over again. It’s way cool to see it happen and notice all the intricate little plot details. Lucas is a pretty keen guy. I’d love to write to no end about all the cool stuff I saw, but then I’d probably ruin the movie for you. So I’ll shut up. All I can say is stay in the theater until the credits are totally done rolling. There’s something cool at the end.
“You can’t stop the change.” Shmi (Anakin’s mother)
“Who would have thought that Darth Vader was Luke’s father!?” Homer Simpson
Oh yeah, I’m heading home now.
Inch thick dust soaking into your pores and the strain of tendons and muscles as you mount the last step with the heavy box. The falling droplets of water, dotting everything and drenching to the skin. The steady lull of windshield wipers and a hazy rain that fogs the window. A metal grate and a ten foot drop. I look through the iron bars, down to the pit below. The lion’s den. The still water mirrors everything, and the gray night sky provides the perfect backdrop. A cool breeze, finally. It’s time to say goodbye. But I just want to sit and stare.
Oh the joys of packing. I realized today that I have too much crap. I spent an hour or so deleting old e-mail messages this afternoon. I think I need to learn how to throw stuff away as soon as I don’t need it. I’m also wishing I was more organized. I keep finding all these slips of paper with quotes or book titles written on them. I end up labeling a folder “quotes” and sticking ’em all in there. What a filing system. I probably have six folders that are essentially “various.” Well, you never know when I might need something. Yeah, right. How useful are my CIFA theater reviews? There’s something about being in college and having to pack and move all your stuff twice a year that makes you want to keep a lot less. Especially this summer since I’ll be living in Chicago. I’m trying to figure out what I need. What I really need. I might need a lot of things. But most likely not. I’m trying to pitch a lot of that most likely not stuff. Some kind of a Thoreau-esque attempt to live simply.
I’m done. I can wipe my hands of school work, I can shake the dust off my feet. My last final was tonight, and the school year is pretty much done. Of course I’m still here. I’m not going home until Saturday. I’ll just take my sweet time packing. Speaking of packing, you’ll be impressed to hear that I cleaned. Well, sort of. There is no longer a mound that my desk is located beneath. There is now one small pile located on the floor, a few things on my desk, and one overflowing grocery bag waiting to be ushered to the dumpster. My roommate must be breathing a sigh of relief.
Speaking of things that are done, the Red Wings lost to the Colorado Avalanche tonight, 5-2. Thus, the Wings are eliminated from the playoffs, and Colorado advances to the Conference Finals. I’m kind of bummed. But to tell you the truth, I’m not so bummed that they didn’t win a third straight Stanley Cup. I’m bummed because I won’t get to watch anymore Red Wing hockey. Nothing beats playoff hockey, and I love watching the Wings. But now it’s over, and I only got to watch two or three games.
Did you know that there are places in this country where the house numbers are single digits? You could live on 7 Recreation Drive. A friend of mine lives on 3 Ellen Lane. No boring three or four digit house numbers for them. America. What a beautiful country.
I look up into the dark night sky and ask what sweet perfume this is on my lips.
Ah, one more day of finals mayhem to go. Yeah, I admit it, I do get off pretty easy. But I’ve had a fairly stressful few weeks. But it’s almost over. Ah. Then I can finally dig my desk out. See what color it really is.
Why is it that when I’m the busiest, the most stressed out, and the most in need of it, I don’t turn to the one that can truly help me?
Ah the joy of finals week. I have to be up in six hours, and I really don’t care. I suppose that’s better for you, because then I don’t worry about how late it is and how I should be sleeping, when instead I’m sitting here typing away about nothing. Yeah, point proven.
You know what? My desk is a mess. I think when I get busy, all organizational skills go out the window. I just throw everything on or near my desk, and it just piles up. It was getting to a point today where you couldn’t distinguish the desk from the floor. It was just one big heaping pile in the corner. Papers flowing everywhere, kind of like the rolling hills of the Appalachian Mountains. I shoveled some of it farther into the corner to appease my roommate, but it’s still a mess. Oh well, I’m all done Tuesday night, and I can start the sifting process then. I’ll be interested to see what’s actually in the lower strata. Probably an over due library book or two.
In other fun and exciting news, one of my good friends and roommates returned to school today. He’s been in England for the past semester, and he came back for a few days to hang out and pick up the rest of his stuff. I think the best comment I’ve heard so far is when somebody said, “Hey Tim, you’re back. Say something English.” For me it clicked that Tim was back when he stretched out on the floor with a pillow. All that was missing was a book he was way behind in reading. Welcome home Tim, it’s good to have you back.
In less exciting news, the Red Wings are in trouble. I watched game five of their best of seven series with the Colorado Avalanche this afternoon. Don’t worry Mom, I was doing homework at the same time. The game was pretty poor. The Wings lost 3-0. Now they’re down 3-2 in the series, and facing elimination Tuesday night. The back-to-back Stanley Cup Champions are facing elimination. It’s not even the Conference finals yet. Needless to say, I’m a little worried. But I do have faith that my team can pull through. We’ve come back from behind before. The only sad part is that I have a final during Tuesday night’s game, and I may not be on hand to cheer the Wings to victory. Darn being away from home during the playoffs.
So why do you do what you do? Why do you read your Bible? Why do you pray? Or why don’t you, for that matter? Why does your church have church services? Why do you have mission trips? Why do you put on a Vacation Bible School?
I was wondering these things during Vespers tonight. It seems that too often we put stuff like this on just because that’s what we’re supposed to do. We have worship services every Sunday, that’s why we’re having one today. We put on a big VBS production every summer, that’s why we’re doing one this year. I was thinking that it’s kind of sad if that’s what we reduce it to.
Is anybody sitting down and really thinking about your summer Bible School? Are you planning it because you want to bring in neighborhood kids and tell them about Jesus, or is it just your volunteer activity for the month? The kids deserve more than that. The world deserves more than that. God deserves more than that.
The world looks at me and wonders why. The kids I graduated with will wonder why I went to a Christian school. They’ll wonder why I started that Bible Study. Hopefully they’ll wonder why I acted the way I did, although I can’t help but wonder if I acted any different then anybody else. They’ll wonder why I write what I do. Why does he do that? What does he see in this Christianity stuff? I can’t let my answer be seen in some half-hearted, doing it because that’s what I’m supposed to do way. Do everything you can to the best of your ability, not just to meet the pastor’s expectations. Not just to fit the bill of the typical summer program. Do it to give the best answer you possibly can to a watching world.
Their eyes are filled with wonder, their hearts of full of questions. Provide them with answers, not more questions.
“It’s not supposed to be like this.”
“It’s not supposed to be anything.” (from the movie Pleasantville)
I scream in to the night.
The problems and troubles and trials and pain, they wear me down, they run me out, my life does wane.
I scream in to the night.
The time is gone, the mime is loud, the rhyme is off.
I scream in to the night.
I fight for a view, of something new. The days are lazy, and my faith is hazy.
I scream in to the night.
Continue reading I Scream Into the Night
How are you?
What secrets lie behind your fine? What’s hiding underneath your mask? We put up such a façade, and for what? To show people that we’re better than we really are? I don’t struggle. I don’t have problems. I don’t have any pain. Everything’s okay. It’s alright. I’m fine. How are you? I really don’t care, it’s just common courtesy. Do you really want to know how I’m doing? Do you really want me to be transparent? Or would you just like to exchange niceties with my current mask?