A Few Brilliant Ideas...

Guilty. I've used the title of this post more often than I'd like to admit. My mom would often joke with me saying, "You need?" with a sarcastic tone.
"Fine. I mean want, whatever. Same thing." I'd reply, brushing off the verbal slip up. However, it was more than an external mistake. It was much more more internal.

My perceptions have often been flawed, but it's only as that phrase occurred in my head today that I realized how many times I've used that phrase without any additional clarification. That's because it didn't need any clarification to me. It was a standalone statement. "I need a cheese steak right now." And hey, this is kind of silly because we can all agree that I don't actually need a cheese steak. I may want a cheese steak, but I don't actually need one. However, I've begun to realize that in the moment that yes, I believe that I need a cheese steak. I don't really think out the consequences of not having a cheese steak. I just know that I need one. Maybe the statement would be true if I said, "I need a cheese steak or I am going to end up being grumpy for the rest of the day." Sure, that'd be true, but you also begin to realize how silly that is.

So why do I pick at something so insignificant? There's an effect that believing we need something we don't has on us. We can get tired, grumpy, irritated, and even angry when we don't get it. We sin as a result of not taking the time to evaluate the true importance of the object at hand. And when we put matters into the grand scheme of things, we often find the object at hand is pretty insignificant. Friendships, relationships, even marriages have been broken because people don't take the time to evaluate the importance of the thing they're fighting over. Yeah, I want a cheese steak, but that's straight up stupid in comparison to desiring God's glory. I don't need a cheese steak, and I recognize that, now. But hey, in that moment, I think my head associated it as a need.

"Cheese steaks are great and all Stevie, but I mean it is just a cheese steak after all."
Very well, let's look at something all my singletons can identify with.

"I need a girlfriend/boyfriend."
Congratulations, you have just joined the rest of humanity. This "need" can be foolish and is always untrue. I'm not bashing relationships. I think relationships are great! I can't wait to be in one myself some day. However, let's re-evaluate that word "need." By the most basic human definition, can/will you go on living without a girlfriend or boyfriend? Yes, you can, regardless of whether or not you choose to. You don't even need a relationship by these standards. However, these are the world's standards. Let's look at God's standards, my fellow Christians: are your sins paid for without a girlfriend or boyfriend? Yes. Can you go on glorifying God without a girlfriend or boyfriend? Yes. Can you enjoy His presence without a girlfriend or boyfriend? Yes. Yes. Yes. However, I know that we associate the desire for a partner in this life as a need when, in truth, it isn't.

You're not single? Well, think of it this way. You're in an argument with your significant other, but you don't agree on something. Do you need to be right? Yeah, that strikes home, doesn't it?

We all think we need something that we don't. Sometimes we verbalize that mistake, and we should be quick to reproach ourselves in that mistake. But, sometimes we don't, so we need to aware of the condition of our hearts, evaluating whether or not we are treating "XYZ" as a need, rather than a want or desire. Wants and desires have their own series of downfalls, which I think I'll write about in my next post. However, if we can at the very least differentiate our needs from our desires, we're one step closer to being able to live to the glory of our God.

If you're not a Christian, you haven't even begun to recognize your greatest need. I'd love to tell you about it. Just leave a comment, and I'll be sure to get in contact with you.

To my brothers and sisters in our Lord Jesus Christ.
Grace to you and peace.
Soli Deo Gloria,
Stevie

I've heard it said
that time will heal the heart.

I argue with the truth, but I know it when I hear it.

Just because your heart is whole,
doesn't mean that you can forget.

There's a dull ache
in the bottom of the glass.

A whisper in your ear
when a wisp of hair blows by.

Counting the promises
made to yourself without a moments hesitation.

Recognizing rushing rivers carry
dreams and wishes down the way.

It isn't a bad thing.
No faults and no guilty party.

If I can manifested wrongs,
then I think I can manifest forgiveness.

I wouldn't change it.
I wouldn't change anything.

People don't ask me what I think because they often overlook
that I'll tell you if you ask because I'm an open book.

It's hard to describe what the inner self is like.
It's a maze to my own eyes, and in the dark I search for light.
I can't light a match in here for the fear it might catch fire;
for when I look into myself, I see all my dark desire.
Feel the spiders crawling out and the skeletons arise
from the closet where they're kept where I hide what I despise.

Other times I have no matches to light myself up-
to smoke out what has been driving me as I look for what's corrupt.
I don't always go in looking for the evil things inside,
but I'm still equally blinded to myself as I collide
with my consciousness, demanding that it show me all it knows.
I don't know much about myself, that's what I'm looking to expose.

My physique is unimportant, from my secretive perspective,
and it's always been that way because my time is too expensive.
Yet I thrive on your attention, and I'll covet your reception.
And if you're not living right, then sometimes my condescension
will appear and will assert that I am better than you.
But I'm diligent, hard working, and I prefer to follow through.
I am plagued by inadequacies behind my lines of pride.
I will work till I am dead if that means perfected design.
I'm paralyzed by fearfulness when idleness appears.
Though I do my best to stand it, I live stooped beneath its gears.
I'm a leader, and you'll see that even when I'm not in charge.
People listen to my words so I'm prone to be at large.
I love music with a passion. That's how I express reactions,
and if I'm writing down some words, well, then I'm filled with satisfaction.
I can't see inside of me, but others open like a scroll.
I have vision that is keen, prone to see inside your soul.
If you don't want me to see you, then I'd better close my eyes.
For your motives roll likes dies, falling from your masked disguise.
I find talking to be easy when others would be queasy.
And my strength at speaking words makes me friends that I know briefly.
But when someone shares their truths that no one else shall hear,
I lock them up inside, and I treasure them as dear.
I care for all around me, and I love them all so sweetly.
If you offer me your whole then I'll love it all completely.
I'm romantic to the max, more than anybody knows,
but that's something that I'm saving till I'm ready to propose.
Things don't come to me with ease. For me life is not a breeze,
but I'll push on trying harder, despite humanity's disease.
I'm a human, which makes me weak, something of which I'll gladly speak,
but when it comes down to myself, I'd rather have it be oblique.

Perhaps I speak too earnestly, perhaps you didn't care.
Perhaps I am nobody, and perhaps I'm worn for wear.
People don't ask me what I think because they often overlook
that I'll tell you if you ask because I'm an open book.

           And then the rain came.

I wake up to the sound of traffic. My eyelids flicker open and all around me, all I can see, is darkness. I scour the world for a sign of anything, anyone. The horns continue to blare, cars moving along invisible pavement. "Am I blind?" I ask, tentatively, groping at the air.

"No," and as it speaks, all the sound ceases to exist. Who is this that sound obeys him? Glancing around, I fail to see anything. I shuffle a bit, waiting.

"You are not blind. However, you have chosen to cover yourself up. Quite well, I might add."

"Let me see."

"Ah, but I've spoken to you before, and you've chosen not to listen." With that, the sounds erupted all around me once again, in a cacophony. The man was still speaking, I tuned out the rest of the noise, the music, the horns, the screeching tires and focused only on him. "You won't hear me if you do not have ears. You have covered those, with layer after layer of cloak. What are you hiding from?"

"Nothing, sir."

"Then, come, take off the cloaks."

"What cloaks?"

"The ones that obscure your vision," and as if on command suddenly I felt a great weight upon me, pulling me down. I collapsed on the floor, groaning. I strained and strained against the constraining cloaks, but they refused to shift.

"Help!" I managed, as the cloaks crushed me. Suddenly, the weight on me relaxed just a bit and I heard the sound of fabric being torn in two. Still, I lay. I struggled to rise and I felt a hand press me down.

"You can't do it. Be still and know who I am." I heard another ripping sound followed by another weight lifted. Things finally began to grow lighter. I saw light filtering through the layers. Elated, I began to tear at the covering, only to feel it grow thicker and stronger. The light began to fade. "You can't do it. Be still." And once again a cloak was torn. This time, as the light filtered through, I waited for the shadowy figure to assist me in tearing off the next layer. Often, when a new layer of light came I would grow excited and attempt to push ahead too quickly, slipping back into darkness. This stranger, whoever he was, was patient with me though.
As the inner layers began to tear, I started to cringe at the light. "Wait! Stop! This hurts!"

"Of course it does."

"Now I remember, I'm hiding because underneath... Well there's a lot of junk that I don't want anyone to see. It'd be better if you just leave now, so that you don't see it. Nobody can fix that stuff."

"I suppose you've been told so?"

"Yes, by everyone."

"Why should you believe them?" I paused, thinking. I didn't really have an answer. "Come, lean against me."

Rising from the carnage of shredded cloaks, I leaned against the man. His grip was firm, secure, loving. I felt a pain in my side as the cloak was shred. However, as soon as the cloak was gone, I grew lighter, happier. "More!" I demanded. This time a searing pain: I screamed. "Why does this hurt so badly?"

"Because you have held onto these cloaks for so long that they have become part of your very flesh." And at that moment, the cloak was free. I felt free. A wave of joy swept across me as I luxuriated in the feeling. I looked into myself for the first time in a while. I looked for the bitterness I felt. Rejection, anger, fury: gone.

I screamed again, this time from pleasure. "Keep going! Cut all the cloaks!" The cloaks were shred from my body, one at a time. As they shred, the world grew brighter and brighter. "Was the world ever this bright?"

The man just smiled, something I could finally see. As the last of the cloaks were cut away, I looked at him. He was a beautiful man, perfect, really. His features were that of one balanced, so well balanced that he could easily hold anyone or anything in check. With a final shredding sound, all the cloaks were cut but one. This cloak looked more like a veil, like the shimmering white material a bride would wear for her bridegroom. "Come, there is a feast for us." He said, gesturing towards a tall, oak gate in the distance. The two of us walked up a golden path, and as I walked through the doorway, the final cloak dropped from me and the world became immersed in glorious light.

Let's go.
Today the world is alive,
ready for us to jump in time.
You feel it too, right?
The shivers in the warm spring air
the dutiful green colors springing to life
all around us.
Let's go.
I want to live, live like never before,
and I know it sounds cliche to say
something that's been said a million times before
but that doesn't make it any less true.
Let's go.
Life is fluctuating, rapidly,
I want to run, swim, fly
because right here, right now, I'm alive.
Come with me, if you would,
it'd be more fun together,
but it doesn't matter because I'm going.
Let's go.
if you don't come, I'll go alone,
because right now, I'm free
I'm alive
and the world is mine to explore.
I have to go.

SCALING

The dark grey flame of corporate chatter
as  black suits climb the ladder.
And as time has passed you've looked up
into the soles of others shoes.

To try and struggle out from underneath
will be no easy task.
But you will knock others aside
or be drowned in a cascade of blue collars.

And if you choose to stand beneath the weight
for too long you will be crushed.


It's time to twist fingers and break wrists
for you've been condemned to bondage.
You claim your right to find escape
to rock the boat, and tip the scale.

To pull yourself from bar to bar, screeching freedom
changing that broken man to become
something bigger than who you are
and finally stand atop and cry

"THIS IS WHO I AM."

Whole nebulae swirl
in your eyes... When I'm with you
mon voyage fini.


[I'm going to do a poem a day for quite a while, as we just came out of our poetry unit in Lit.]

Over here ladies and gents:
The Lord is My Teacher: A Few Brilliant Ideas, Writing and the Universe

My top 10 career suggestions:

My child, why do you worry?

They love you a droplet, I love you an ocean.
They love you sinfully, I love you perfectly.

They love you at times, I love you always.
They love you for now, I love you forever.

They love you a little, I love you a lot.
They love you for a lifetime, I love you for eternity.


And I love you because I am love.


Hear my words, oh you of little faith.

Family, friends, and all those that dwell on this fallen earth. I tell you these things because I care for you.

Gospel. You've probably heard that word before, it means "good news." You probably knew that too. If you didn't, welcome to Christianity. It's a weird world we live in filled with muddled, confused people unsure and unable to differentiate the truth of the Word of God from the traditions passed down from the past generations of equally confused believers.

There are a lot of "Christians" who think they have it right because they attend church once a week, or twice a week, or even every day. That's not what makes a Christian. There's a lot of "Christians" who think they have it right because they open that sixty-six love letter every night called the Bible and give air to empty phrases filled with the hollow tones of a man standing before a courtroom, bound to tell the truth on a book he doesn't really care to open up. That's not what Christianity is, and if that's all they think it is, it's honor-bound, Hell-bound duty. I relish in the fact that I get to burst your little bubble by informing good people don't go to heaven. Not in the sense that you think anyway. Why does this give me so deep a pleasure? Simply because it's the beginning of illumination. Just because you worked and slaved doesn't guarantee you anything. Karma isn't any realer, than the synthetic carbohydrates you see on the shelves in the stores.

So what are these Christians? These people that you see walking down the street with the tracks in their hands trying to convince you that this Jesus guy died thousands of years ago and came back to life. After all, last time you checked your great-great-grandma was still in the grave. Why should Jesus be so special? The truth is some of them are fakers, not truly knowing Christ, but proclaiming him anyway. There are others though, people who are genuine believers, with genuine spirit-breathed faith. Where did that come from?

You've probably heard the story of that little baby born in Bethlehem, the city of David. Born, grown, living the perfect life and imparting us with wisdom not our own. Then dying a death he did not deserve on a cross that was his to have from the dawn of time. Why? Why did Jesus die? I hope you're insisting. Here's where things get tricky, it's why the "good news" tends to be a little too "good" to swallow. According to the Bible and its revelations, the reason Jesus died is because you, frankly, suck. Just to be clear, it isn't just you but every single person, with Christians included. The Lord Jesus spoke and told us that if we committed but one sin, that guilt was enough to condemn us of them all. It's not that Christians have some type of diplomatic immunity from the wrath of God because they wear nice clothes every Sunday and sing songs that rhyme quite nicely. No. They've accepted that they can't save themselves, that Jesus died for them and living a perfect life took on all of their sin. They've asked him to work in their hearts, to remove their sin and abide within them. It's not that they're perfect, because heaven knows there are plenty of genuine Christians that make mistakes. But, if you're a Christian, you're being reformed to the image of God. This is the Gospel.

I don't expect you find it easy to accept all of this. If you do, then you're not truly looking yourself in the eyes. Every day I get up, walk into the bathroom, look in the mirror, and see a guy that I think looks pretty good. That's sin at work though, and it's not natural for me to see that I fall short of God's glory. I want to believe that I'm perfect. I earnestly do. It's only by God's grace that He makes me take a second look in the mirror. This time, with Gospel powered lenses, I see my full despicable self: a rotting corpse covered with sin. It's only as God's grace washes over me that I am made clean... Clean in the image of the one who saved me, Jesus of Nazareth.

People confuse the Gospel. It happens. It's the critical struggle of the church throughout the ages, not baptism or communion. You'll meet a lot of people on this side of eternity that say they're Christians. Some of them will be, others won't be. If you're a Christian, keep in mind the truth of God's word. Look for it. Cling to it. Do not let it be confused with rite and ritual, a man made religion. If you don't know God, run to Him, and when you do, run to the truth, run to the Gospel, because when you realize the full weight of your sin and your inability to be flawless, the Bible becomes not only a book, but marvelous, glorious, good news.