fuzzy memories

I think its wierd how closed into my own world I can get. It is really easy for me to get into a routine with my life, and the more into my life I get, the more things in my past fade away. For example I have been in Clinton, MS the past couple of days and been kicking it with my friends. As we drive around I have forgotten how to get around. Although I lived here for the better part of four years, things from my past seem to feel a bit like a dream more than a reality. I guess in a lot of ways I feel like so much stuff has happened in the 2 1/2 years since I left this place it is easy for me to compartmentalize that part of my life. The relationships haven't changed. Hanging with my friends is still like it used to be thankfully. However everything else feels different. I guess when I get into such a rhythm with the way my life flows in Colorado, anything different feels like an eternity away even though it has been much more brief. So anyway enough with circle speech.

It seems that somedays I do wish to be back here at MC in college in the dorms with my buddies close by, but now I've realized all I miss are relationships and memories. College itself was merely a vehicle for those two things. Moving back home, or being back in school are not the answers, its simply hanging onto and growing the relationships I have. I feel like crap for not talking to my friends more. I can see how it is hard for people to hear me say they are dear to me, and then ignore them for a couple of months. It is true, but I realize, especially after being with them, that the best thing I can do if they are dear to me, is love them with a lot of action as well, if nfor no other reason than to serve them as my pals. I am so blessed to have shared life with so many wonderful people. Last night I played touch football in the quad of MC with 3 pals until 1 in the morning. THAT is beautiful. They are all so good to me.

This is far more sappy than I intended and I know some of them are gonna read this, so at the risk of being a huge dork I will stop. Much love if any of you are reading this.

On a lighter note as my friend and former live in life partner Jason played Pearl Jam songs on the guitar last night I realized how much I freaking love them. I think I could still play any of their CD's and listen all the way through and love every minute of it just like I could in ninth grade. I think that is why I dig them and will fight with anyone and say unashamedly that they are the best and most important band of my generation. They have shaped the way I listen to rock and roll, and probable are one of the reasons I love it so much. This post is getting monotonous and I am wearing myself out, so I can't even imagine what it is like for some who may read this garbage.

Festivus

This Christmas was really nice. It was full of things that I think I want to capture before they get too far away from my mind. The first and one of the most notable is my grandpa. He has Alzheimer's and it definitely seems to be progressing. In recent visits home I feel terrible but have really avoided being around him. I feel terrible because of it, but I guess it helps me not deal with him being different the less I see him different. However this Christmas break I got to be around him more. In al lseriousness it does feel like hanging out with a stranger. Oddly enough this is probably his sentiment as well. Nevertheless today as we sat in church he told me I used to know all these people here. As we passed by some other churches on the way home he told me he used to preach for people at all those places. He told me of his car, that he used to drive a car like this, maybe the same one. That was cool. Now as I type it makes me sad, but at the time I was happy. It felt like for the first time I could understand the disease. I think initially one of the problems I had with it all was how I could watch him fight what was happening. He would be told things, and react negatively because he wasn't fully concious of what was happening. Now I don't think the old man is there. I think who he was before the disease is like a dream of sorts to him now. Consequently it is the same for me. Whether or not this is accurate or merely my bad observation I do not know, but I do know that I love this man. I love him like I love my grandpa growing up. Every encounter with him reminds of the that statement in the seven ages of man, by Shakespeare I think, "once a man twice a child." I am grateful for having had this encounter and confrontation with what has been going on with my grandpa.

It was also cool hanging with the sibs and nephews and nieces. As my sister has children at breakneck speed, it is fun to watch our family grow. Her life is very different than mine. She is only two years older but is currently pregnant with her 4th kid. She has been married 4 years. She is the total mom. It is something to behold. Anyway back to the chil'ren. It is wild to watch them on CHristmas morning. It is a picture of the same thing that goes on inside of me all the time. The heart never gets its fill of having. The having leads to more wanting, not peace. I know I was the same way when I was young, but nonetheless, it helps me think about my own heart and how broke it is. I contributed by giving them too much, but it is pretty fun buying and shopping for toys. I don't mean to paint them as demons, but merely versions of myself. Even as kids I can already see to quote Crowder, "the depth of our fall, and the weight of it all." All of that aside this Christmas has really brought me to a place of valuing family above all else. As I saw with my own eyes and through the stroies of friends here, the storm was overwhelming. I can't really articulate things. Nevertheless it has reminded me of my blessings. It has helped me to be extremely grateful for all I have and a great reminder to be free of hoping in things. Literally I had friends that lost all of their possessions in a single wave. What aportrait of our everpresent reality. I feel the need to apologize to anyone who may read this beside myself. I am being a huge dork as I type. My brain works like this. I want to type this stuff though, b/c I don't want to wait, and journaling my hand is too cumbersome. So forgive my dramatic and weighty contemplation of nonsense. I gotta talk.

Another thing that is pressing hard upon me, is the punk I have been to my parents growing up. Just being around them and thinkin of all the futile stuff we fought about, and I whined about it overwhelms me. I am unbelievably indebted to them and realize this every time I sit at my home or simply think of them.

There are so many other things that are heavy on me now, but I will refrain from posting them right now, b/c this computer is where my niece is sleeping and she needs to sleep. By the way she is like a human stuffed animal and just loves to be held. That rocks.

One final note. I read the book "Blink" by Malcolm Gladwell this week and it was fascinating. It is all about how we should learn to feed our unconcious and then trust a decision our unconcious makes in a blink. Mainly it is the idea that more information doesn't always mean we have the ability to make a better decision. The book shows some compelling data as to why. It also says we should release ourselvess to trust feeling we have that we can't explain. He says sometimes if we feel a certain way, we should not kill ourselves or discount the idea simply because we can't unpack it fully. Anyway it is all about psychology and interesting.

Bumper Sticker Heaven

One of the things I love about living in Northern Colorado is all of the sweet bumper stickers you see when you drive around town. For example if you see an old Subaru, you definitely want to pull in behind it, for the mere pleasure of reading all the really sweet bumper stickers. So for whatever reason, one of my favorites has been on my mind, and I've been thinking about it alot. By the way, most of the stickers are from hippy type folks that I dig. Here is my favorite one up to this point:

Bare Feet, Not Arms.

Word. I'm thinking about adopting it as my motto or something, but then I think everyone back home will think I have completely gone over the edge. Maybe I have, I don't know (and if the world is a circle how can we go over the edge anyway). Anyway I wanted to make sure to post this before I forgot about it. Its not that I don't dig the BIll of Rights and my attempts at hunting, I just like th eimage that comes into my head of being barefoot in some green grass, instead of clutching a weapon. I don't want to get utopian here so at the risk, of sounding trite. out.

BY the way I feel that I should note that this not the stuff I was planning on writing aforementioned in the previous post, this is just what came out.

Narnia and other stuff

On Tuesday night Vinnie and I went and saw The lion, the witch, and the wardrobe. I thought they did a great job with the movie. I really got into the chronicles of narnia last summer, and they were unbelievable. After about four weeks of reading the books, I would see animals and hope they woud talk to me. I felt like I understood Narnia, and was really sucked into the fantasy of the books. I realize this makes me a nerd, but I think I'd dig living in a world with talking animals. But then again, if animals could talk we'd probably have a lot of guilt we'd have to deal with when we eat them, leash them, domesticate them, destroy their homes for subdivisions. At the risk of launching into a hippy, Peta sounding rant I will let that issue rest. Nevertheless the movie was good. Three things perplexed me after watching it though.

Issue One:

Liam Neesan(or however it is spelt) did Aslan's voice. No offense to Liam, I think he is an allright actor, no one could do that character Justice. Aslan is painted in such a (pardon the silly, dramatic, word) majestic light in the book that no human rendering of him visually or audibly could do him justice. SO at the risk of whining I am trying to force myself to come up with an alternative voice for THE lion. The best answer I could come up with was the voice over guy for NFL films. Not Steve Sabol, the produceer and guy that wears a sweater and introduces each film. The narrator who speaks when they are showing the Purple People eaters, or 1998 Falcons team. That guy has a commanding voice. So there is issue number one.

Issue two:

The beavers had british accents. I could not really discover any intelligible reason for this. One could guess because CS was, but then for that matter why don't all the other animals have British accents as well. It seems that any time you do a movie from a past time, someone inadvertently has to have a British accent. Thats frustrating. (By the way why don't we ever say advertently. It seems we only use the negative, and that doesn't seem fair.) Nevertheless I guess the candy apple answer is they are British, because in their world like ours people have different accents based on their geography. I do think answer is too simple though.

Issue Three:

I thought the white witch was hot. This is probably the most disconcerting of the three issues I had with the film. Those dreads in her hair were amazing. Geez I'm sad. The problem I have with thinking the white witch was hot, is that she is the devil. I mean I know lucifer was the most beautiful of angels, so much that it was a point of pride, but I don't want to like him for that. Half the time when she was doing terrible things in the movie, all I could think about was wanting to hold her hand, and touch her dreads. Alright this is getting creepy, and people actually read this, so I'll bring this to a close quickly. Anyway I guess I should explore what thinking the white witch was hot means about my soul, or just forget and think about the Braves and Rockies chances next year. (By the way the Rockies made some excellent moves in the Winter meetings, and I think we are one veteran power bat away from 80 wins next year. Believe that.)

So this is what I got. I might post later today because I have a lot of random crap I want to verbalize, b/c I'm tired of having it inside.

the vagrant gypsy life

So yesterday one of my friends included this poem in an e-mail they sent me and it took me back. I memorized this in the ninth grade, when we had learn a poem for our english class and share it. It was a blessing hearing it again, so I want to put it here so I don't lose it again

Sea Fever
By: John Masefield

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely seas and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

So thats it, I think I am a sap for loving such things, but I'm glad I have that poem again, I've always remembered parts, and now I have the whole. I want the vagrant gypsy life a bit too much I think. We is what we is.

I'm too practical

So apparently Julie and I are not gonna talk for a while. This message became glaringly clear yesterday when I recieved a piece of mail from her. It was a simple note attached to a four pass I had given her, saying I probably can't use this so you should share it with someone else, Have a good thanksgiving. It was sent via the US postal service. I guess that is a pretty clear piece of communication. I'm not sure what I was expecting as far as our relationship, post coupledom, but I had at least hoped we would be pals. One of my friends said that if I care about Julie than I shouldn't talk to her until after Christmas. So whatever. I guess I have to aceept this as the consequences of my actions. The flippin USPS. Anyway I digress. I just think it is a shame we cannot even speak a sentence to each other. But all in all I do want whatever is best for her, because I think I have probably hurt her enough for one man. Thus I'll drift quietly out of her life, or whatever and hope that one day we can be pals. So I think I am too pratical because I actually believe we should be able to be friends, or at least cordial acquaintances in spite of our past. SO I'll squash that, and quote the words that frustrated me yesterday, when a friend told me what they had told my former pal Julie, "You don't cut your arm off with a butter knife, thats too painful, you have to chop it off at once." Geez I need to quit being so pissed.

I bought Talib Kweli-- The Beautiful Struggle, yesterday and I really dig it. He is a rapper that actually says something. He's not rapping for hos or money, but rather to preach. I like that. I'm wrestling with a thought about him though. He cusses a lot. I usually dismiss most people who use a lot of profanity as inarticulate and probably unintelligent, however with him it is different. I think he is pretty articulate, and intelligent. It got me thinking he uses these words because they are his words. He is from the streets of New York, and I can't help but wonder does he speak this way for the same reason I say something is money when it is good. SO no doubt about it I am attempting to rationalize why I should let my mind consume his language, but this has just left me thinking. He talks about God a lot. Not in the same way Tupac would talk about God after killing someone. He talks about God like he knows him and talks to him. Maybe I'm a sucker. Probably I am a sucker.

girl stuff

So on Saturday, Nov. 19, Julie and I broke up. Its hard for me to process this all really, and quite frankly I'm tired of talking to people about it. Everyone wants to know whats going on, and its hard for me to verbalize. The long and the short of it is this--At one point I thought this was it, and recently(2 months) I have thought otherwise. I can't really explain all of the things that have led to our relationship chilling, except it didn't feel right. At times I think I am too much the hopeless romantic to be able to successfully judge whether or not my reality is what it should be. I know I hurt her. For that I feel a lot of sorrow. Of course, it was never my intent but as mom always said, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." Nevertheless in the days since the break up I have felt like this is still th eright move. I've wanted to call her, but figure I should just leave her for now. She went home for Thanksgiving to be with family. I think if I call right now it will do more harm than good. I feel like a heel everytime I think about this situation.

I do not know why I am so reluctant to believe that our relationship was right, and I'm so tired of all of the people around me's cliches about love and stuff. Everyone has something to say, but I've determined that nothing is normative in this regard, therefore the idea that what works for someone else might work for me, is foolish. I think we are all too different for that. Maybe I'm too young. I thought it would be good and healthy for me to blog about all this, so as to verbalize some stuff and capture the emotion of this moment, however the emotion is---numb. I don't even know if numb is an emotion. I know I hate doing this to girls. I had coffee with a friend this morning who seemed to be trying to convince me that I was supposed to be with Julie. I think I was defensive about that for some reason. Is it pride or truth? Anyway I'll come back when I am further removed from the situation.

Last night I met with an ordination council and it was fun. It was a room of guys I love and respect letting me answer questions of theology and fun stuff like that. It is nice being forced to weigh in on things like that from time to time I think. The men involved were: Brad Gilliland, Kelly Wheat, Jim "The Miz" Mislowski, Jim McCormick, Andy Stuart, Alan Karr, and Dave Karr. It was such a blessing to be a part of the event and a real confimation that GOd wants to use me in this capacity. I feel like I am spent right now so I will stop to read the Word.

In the words of Hootie...

So yet another week is here, and I again am left scratching my head in regards to what I need to say.

IN the words of Hootie and the BFish--"Ti--ii--ime why do you punish me?"

It seems like lately life is moving so quickly. I think the structured nature of my week, (IE-MOnday 6:30-7:30 mtg, 8:30-10:30 mtg, 11:00-12:30 travel to sem, 1-6 class, 6:30-9:30 class, and so on), helps it move along at an extremely quick pace. It feels like the week only lasts 3 days. I can remember when I was younger how summer felt like forever and most of the time I think it was because as a kid in the summer there was little more than eating PBJ by the pool and doing yardwork with mom. I guess the question I am asking in a very convaluted way is: Does our schedule and activity make our life's pace seem faster than it should be? I know the speed of life does not change (perhaps infinitesimally other course of thousands of years), based on revolutions and rotation of the earth and what not, but I wonder if we can decide how we will live that time and thereby control how fleeting or sluggish it feels?

A friend of mine named Jerry who is in his fifties said that the last 20 years of his life felt like 2 weeks. This made me want to shoot myself in the face. I am not afraid to die. Matter of fact, most days I think being with Christ is something I long for far more than getting out of bed. I'm not depressed I just understand whats better. That said, I do think that if God wants me to live in this place for seventy years, I am in no rush to be 50. I wonder if there something I can do to savor this short time that we have. Geez this circular thought that is doing nothing more than stealing the time I have. Perhaps I should just heed the words of Mason Jennings and, "live in the moment with these friends of mine." This is why I like and dislike this online journaling bit. It will be fun seeing where I was in the future, but right now reading it makes me want to puke.

out.

one mo gan

So as I sit here, I am frustrated that I did not spend some time typing last week. I had several ideas I meant to capture, but because I did not type them, I am at a loss. I want to post so rather than post anything of substance, I will post about my lack of such substance. Nevertheless here are a few things I want to remember:

Sat., Nov. 5, Miami dismantled Va. Tech, 27-7. It was beautiful.

Thurs., Nov.3, Julie and I had a convo about the state of our relationship and arrived at the conclusion that we were not both in the same place, but nevertheless we would try to continue as usual and figure it out as we go along.

Wed., Nov.2, bought, started, and am enjoying a new book by Chuck Klosterman: sex, Drugs, and cocoa Puffs. It is a book of essays about stuff and is hilarious. However I think his ideas effect me perhaps more than they should. HIs essays on fake love(title has something to do with emo) and the sims were hilarious and insightful.

Tues., Nov.1, attended a collegiate church planting summit and wondered why we find formulas so comforting and appealing. Are we lazy? Are we greedy? Are we cowards? Am I melodramatic?yes.

MOn., Oct. 31, thought of a Beastie Boys line, "October 31st is my day of the birth." Mike D. This is singlehandedly one of the most powerful musical quotes I have heard, and it has shaped me, that is all I can say. Found out I aced my Greek Midterm...what, what!

Alright so an exciting life worth typing about in a nutshell. I feel cliche as I blog, but...

Worship Thoughts

So I was listening to this sermon last night on my ipod. The guy sharing said something that I think is beautiful. He was talking specifically about how the church needs to make sure we don't limit the way we worship to just one thing. He gave this story:

There was this ballet dancer and she was really good. She danced and did so beautifully. After her performance several of the people in attendance went to her to congratulate her on her great show. As they did, one guy came up to her and told her what a wonderful job she did. He continued and said, "I really enjoyed the dance, however I do not watch a lot of ballets and was wondering if you could tell me exactly what the dance means?" The dancer responded with this statement, "If I could tell you with words, than I would not have had to dance it."

Okay so this may seem a bit cheesy, but I thought it was a cool reason why art should have a place in our worship of God. To believe that we can properly articulate our worship of God through prayer, the study of his word, and song alone is making little of the nature and character of God. I think as long as God is making humans different, there will be as many ways to worhsip him. We should always be careful not to confine ourselves to one set of ideas and call it worship. I think this story shows why we should be sure to make our worship a fluid and multi-faceted representation of the character of our God. Nevertheless these are just some ramblings, but I wanted to write these thoughts before I forgot them. I have currently been given the freedom at my church to develop an additional worhsip service so that we as a body can explore these ideas. My prayer is that God will lead us in the direction he would have us go, and that he would allow this to a place of great freedom.

Leaving

I just read this quote:

"Everybody has to leave, everybody has to leave their home and come back so they can love it again for all new reasons."

In my experience, this is an accurate statement. I never loved home until it wasn't mine anymore. In the words of James Hetfield, "You know its sad but true--oo." Nevertheless I didn't have much to say but wanted to record that quote.

Cash

So I've recently been going through a hardcore honky tonk phase where I've been listening to mostly old-school country, namely: Willie, Waylon, Hank Jr. (borderline white trash, rather than country), and Johnny Cash. I was bale to pick up Johnny Cash's autobiography in a used book store a couple weeks back and have been creeping my way thorugh it. This is his quote about country music:

"I was talking with a friend of mine about this the other day; that country life as I knew it might really be thing of the past and when music people today, performers and fans alike, talk about being "country" they don't mean they know or even care about the land and the life it sustains and regulates. They're talking more about choices-- a way to look, a group to belong to, a kind of music to call their own. Which begs a question: Is there behind the symbols of modern country, or are the symbols themselves the whole story? Are the hats, the boots, the pick-up trucks, and the honky-tonking poses all thats left of a disentegrating culture? Back in Arkansas a way of life produced a certain kind of music. Does a certain kind of music now produce a way of life? Maybe thats OK. I don't know. Perhaps I'm just alienated, feeling the cold wind of exclusion blowing my way. The "country" music establishment, including "country" radio and the "country" music association, does after all seemed to have decided that whatever "country" music is, some of us aren't."

So I'm going to try really hard not to become a complete geek about all this, but I thought it was a cool quote. I'm just now getting into country music, I guess over the past 2 years, and I do know that there is a depth and honesty to a lot of the old guys that I don't hear in dudes like Tim McGraw, but to be honest I don't give most of the young country guys a chance if they can't play a guitar. Anyway I digress, I just thought it was a cool quote from a cool guy. I think music might be taking over my soul. I always frame what I am doing in terms of song or quote it seems, I wonder if that is bad. Alright so this is entirely too long.

X

Last night I saw the movie American History X. Rock. It was powerful, beautiful, and grotesque. It is about hate, and how it accomplishes nothing. I am tempted to insert a sweet hippy statement here, but I relent. Nevertheless it is a beautiful portrait of how broke we are, but how we all realize evil corrupts, and satisfies only for a time, but in the end is left wanting. 2 enthusiastic thumbs up. Also sweet: Lord of War. Saw it last week. It is another portrait of how broke we are as humans, and how we are in need of rescue.

life

Its been a while since I blogged so here it goes: My life is fun. I live with 2 cool dudes and we have a dog. There is something really cool about having a dog. I can't really articulate what is so cool about indy, our dog. Nevertheless I have a great girlfriend that I don't deserve and don't treat well at all. I think I am an emotional wreck for anyone to have to deal with so most of the time I take up an unhealthy amount of time in our relationship dealing with myself. Boy I am glad I am making this public to the 2 people that read this blog, but whatever. Confession is good for the soul. Nevertheless I've decided I am definitely melodramatic about most things in my life. I guess people my age all feel like our lives are so differnt from each other and thus we should talk about all the crap that is going on, but it seems to me that is the definition of normalcy. Geez I'm rambling. I suck at blogging, nevertheless I am gonna try to do this once a week for my friend Loren, and others, who might have time to read this garbage.

PS- The cold weather today was beautiful and refreshing. I wanted to stand outside in my bathing suit just to be cold. I am definitely sleeping with the windows open. There is something clean about the cold.

nothing new under the sun

SO I'm gonna rant. This afternoon I did something I almost never do, and I read thorugh some of those "emerging church" websites. It all such a load of crap. Men want to really believe they are bigger and mor eimportant than they are. Its crazy, but I think people who are really legalistic and people who are sold out to this emergent church thing are a lot like the people Jesus railed on in the Gospels. After reading several articles by "hip" church folk I hear that these people think church can save mankind, or that church can be cool. I have no faith in church as method. I have enormous faith in church as a family of followers of Christ. I am so frustrated that people are allowing themselves to be distracted by such pride centeredgarbage. I think for the most part all of these "emerging leaders" are concerned about their name and renown and see criticism as martyrdom, so I will cease so as to not grant them that. I pray that one day soon people will submit and realize that Jesus is the only revolutionary way to save the world. The best way for us to lose sight of our purpose on earth is to seek a kingdom or empire here, such as leading movements. Let us pray earnestly that the Spirit of God will guide us in being obedient in the relationships he has given us and let people write about it and talk about it if they want when we are dead.

Bueller

"Life moves pretty fast, if you don't stop to look around once in awhile, you just might miss it." --Ferris Bueller

A modern prophet really. It seems I've spent my whole life preparing for the next step. I have terminally lived in a time that is not promised to me. Blaise Pascal said thats a real shame when we do that. He said we neglect the one time we can control because we waste all our days regretting the past or planning for the future. I agree. I'm really trying to focus my life now for the future. I think there really is a difference. I know I have tried to live focused on the future and I think it is worthless. I think I need to live realizing that there may be a future, but the past way to prepare for it is to be the person for the future right now. If it comes I am ready. If not, then I am who I supposed to be anyway. I promise this all makes sense in my head. Nevertheless I press on. I pray that I will see my life right now as what it is supposed to be. I pray that I realize I am who I am. I pray that I do not live one more minute regretting, and that I live in motion, understanding the value of the past only relative to how it allows me to live the now. Mercy is great. Christ has shown clemency beyond my capacity to understand. I will rest in that and not try to dissect it. I will take it as freely as it has been given.

scrugglin

Somedays I anticipate death. Not in a wierd, morbid, goth way, just in a teen agnst, John Hughes Rite de passage movie kind of way. (Borrowing from Wayne's World of course.) I get really frustrated with fighting somedays. everyday I realize a little more what a coward I am. I realize that I talk much and exercise little. Nevertheless we press on. I don't know why I am writing this so others can see, but here I am. Ham I am. death really is victory. Truly it has already occurred if I believe the Word. Thus I should Find a way to remember it day by day. Gosh this is dramatic. Future posts will be more comedys and less drama. On a side note I have considered some new Titles for my forthcoming Gangster Rap album: ten in the clip- one in the hole, Mo meditate and less conversate. Just some ideas. I gotta go lay down some tracks.

stuff and things

Currently I am learning that the more you choose to love people the more you will be hurt. Its not really ever like that movie stuff where everyone wants to sing kum ba ya or at the end of the day you say man my lie looks grea. At the end of the day I do say, I love my life. I hope we all can. If we can't why do we do it. Nevertheless I think it has been an important distinction for me to realize. Vulnerability=peace. Peace doesn't look describable or desirable, but it remains. That is what is so cool about peace. It is. In the midst of chaos it is. I think its easy to look around at the brokeness and grow discouraged. However I've learned that brokeness can be serene if our perspective is right. When we realize we are broke we are most useful I think. Its a shame it takes being fractured or cut to see how powerful bleeding is. this is rambling. I think I'm retarded and dramatic.