i've figured out...

 No matter what, I'm going to make mistakes and make messes of things.
 No matter what, things work out for the glory of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.
So I can probably chill out and give up this crippling worry about if either of those will happen, because I'm pretty much guaranteed they both will.

say no more, use your eyes

Some days I just feel more aware.
It's like all of the sudden I remember that I have all of these senses and start to use them intentionally rather than passively.
It's the difference between merely hearing a symphony orchestra and listening to it. It's the difference between merely drinking a cup of coffee and tasting it.
It's an active engagement with my information processing. I pick up on so much more. I make more connections. I feel so much more alive.
I experience.

some things

1. My hair resembles a chocobo.

same thing.

2. Many of my favorite bands that I pride myself in listening to for their originality have albums or songs having to do with the word "ghost". What's up with that?
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m-qr2FuePDc, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGfyU4Qx5vc, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cks_FeJxfQg, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i380DwcJxxM, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MUA9hoDa40, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zVvYaK-B0MQ, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvbv8rSOiGc, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dlxZVp0aLW0,]

                                                                

Warm Bodies Review

A good friend took me to see Warm Bodies tonight for my birthday. I had been wanting to see it since I saw the preview, but had trouble finding anyone who shared my intrigue enough to spend 8 bucks to watch something that sounded like it could potentially be more like the kind of movie you wait until it can be streamed on Netflix to watch. The basic plot is loosely based on Romeo and Juliet, only with a zombie Romeo. After killing Julie's boyfriend, proceeding to rescue and fall in love with her (followed eventually by her falling for him), they take on the masses with love breaching the live/undead gap.

 Despite how stupid the premise sounds, this movie was actually (as I hoped) Awesome. Yes, that's an Awesome with a capital A. And here's why:
1. It demonstrated correct principles of how social in-grouping out-grouping behavior works. At the end R makes a comment about killing all the "bonies" (supra-zombies) at the end being a bonding experience between the living and the infected "corpses". According to current social psychological research, a superordinate goal is one of the few things that can bring competing groups together because it creates functional interdependence. These goals introduced to the environment can't be achieved by one group alone, but if collectively are needed bring them together. Another example is how at the beginning when R knows that he doesn't want to be how he is ponders "Am I the only one?". The moment when he finds he is not alone, that others would like to find a way back to their old self too, it establishes credibility, and they use each-other to prevent themselves for settling for less. It starts a movement when others are with him. Even though they were zombies, this is very real-life.
2. I'm no film major or movie-making geek, but I can tell the difference when a movie is well-done and when one is poorly made. I thought the angles were artistic and provided refreshing perspective changes throughout the movie. The use of particular color and lighting was fitting. The acting was believable. I found myself experiencing the suspension of disbelief (where I forget I'm watching) more often than not. AND the soundtrack was amazing.
3. I loved the symbolic connection that spoke of love bringing the dead to life. Even though the film was physiologically inconsistent/confusing (how could they get heartbeats if everything but their brain had been eaten? and other such quesions), it was philosophically beautiful. It wasn't the point of the movie to explain how the apocalypical zombie virus started or even the exact function that their brains underwent to spark the cure. So if you're hung up on that, get over it. What was important to this story was connection. And connection, we find, is what give us life, what makes us alive. It was when the corpses interacted with the humans, were taught by them, touched by them, LOVED by them, it was this connection that proved to be a cure that spread like good infection and exhumed the world.
The film ends with R and Julie watching as the wall the humans built to keep the corpses out is blown to bits.

Love crumbles walls, yo!

Part III

[it casts out fear]

Sometimes loving people means embracing conflict rather than running from it. As Donald Miller likes to say, “Every good story has conflict.”

Gary A. Haugen uses an illustration that I’d like to share here in his book Good News about Injustice:

“Courage is an odd gift because it’s one we rarely think we’ll want or need. It’s like trying to get my preschoolers to put on their coats when there is no hint of winter’s bitter cold inside our toasty home. Squirming and objecting, the doubt that it’s as cold as all that outside, and more to the point they’re not sure they even want to be going out.

Similarly, as a North American Christian I am not all that eager to accept the gift of courage that my God extends to me. I’m not sure I want to go to the places where I’ll need it—to the places where virtues become risky. Sometimes staying indoors feels risky enough.

But then Jesus gently lets me know that I’m not living with a domesticated God. His prodding sounds much like the appeal my wife and I give to our own children to get them out the door: ‘Mom and Dad are going outside. We’ll help you with your coats if you want to come with us.’ Likewise, I hear Jesus calling, ‘I’m going outside to a world that needs me. I’ll help you with the courage you’ll need if you want to be with me.’”

I am not courageous. I am the type who would rather avoid the need to develop courage by simply avoiding situations that would call for it. I don’t think God is going to allow me to stay indoors. I don’t think I want to, not if He isn’t there.

Some fears I face (and I imagine other people do to) of loving other people:

(a) I’m afraid of what they think of me (see part I).

(b) I’m afraid of our differences. It’s hard investing in some one knowing inevitably that you will misunderstand and be misunderstood. Loving people who are different than you (and everyone is, at least a little) means inevitable screw-ups and inevitable work to fix the screw ups.

(c) Getting too attached and getting hurt.

But C.S. Lewis makes a lovely quote for point C.

“There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one,     not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.”

And now we have to ask ourselves the question, are we going to have safe, passive love for the people around us? Or are we willing to take risks?

Part II

[it has no expectations]

Do the unexpected by not expecting anything “But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked.”

I work at a restaurant and today I found myself counting my dollars between tables, trying to get out as soon as possible while getting a good profit out of people. Most days are like this.

Some days though, I decide to forget about how much I make and instead try to serve the people who come in because they matter. Instead of trying to get away with doing as little side-work as possible, I see what help my co-workers need and do my best to meet their needs. Instead of complaining when people do a less than adequate job (and in a restaurant you are forced to depend on each-other), I look for opportunities to speak words of encouragement to the people around me. I’ll let you guess which days I feel better at the end of.

What is  getting money from work, what is getting “credit” and even knowledge from school, what is riding the bus, what is eating dinner, what is any of that good for in the end? What does it all add up to? What is life without love?

“The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.” Gal. 5:6

And what we are trying to do is make our lives and ourselves matter without love. Maybe we have a love of pleasure and a love of comfort, but no love of God and no love of people. So the things we do, even if we think are for love, are often really because we expect something in return.

            And the unfortunate thing about people is that they rarely meet our expectations. And when our expectations are not met, we are disappointed. And when we are filled up with disappointment it empties us of gratitude and invites in bitterness. It’s probably better to let go of the entitlement we feel to get something back from loving people. If we cease to (even internally) demand returns from other people, then the action loving  in itself becomes the reward and the appreciation and joy we feel toward other people when they give love to us increases tenfold.

Part I

Part I

[it is not self-seeking]

Let’s take a look at my inability to be real with other people. I play social games. Every interaction is like a ploy to get people to notice me, remember me, be impressed by me. Does this make me a fake?

How are we not be imposters? We are constantly deluding ourselves—deceiving and being deceived—building jungle gyms of justifications, only talking to people we know will affirm us...
But if we ask the important "why?" question, we might find the desire to be affirmed is there for a reason. But can we ever feel affirmed enough from people? Even if we do, does it mean anything? Somehow to me, the affirmation I seek from people does not hold much weight when I receive it. It blows away; it is not stable--not like real glory or fulfillment.

Last year when my friend Joshua Sutton left us, he passed on this quote of his read at his funeral:

“It is really easy to wish that you were somebody else…

…even if they are wishing the same thing about you.”

It’s a funny thing about people. Most of the time we are scared to expose ourselves around others, afraid of what they think of us. What I often fail to realize is that most people aren’t thinking of me the majority of the time because they, like me, are too busy thinking of themselves and what I am thinking of them. There are very few people who actually are thinking about you while you are talking to them.

And these are the people we don’t need to be afraid of, because chances are, if they are unselfish enough to find out who you are, they are unselfish enough to care.

I find myself in a weird anomaly of pride and insecurity. It’s my selfishness that keeps me stuck on only thinking of myself when I’m talking to other people; it’s my insecurity that feels the need to. Pride and insecurity are manifest in the examples of social upward and downward comparison. It seems as if we are perpetually either upward comparing (measuring ourselves up to other people and finding ourselves wanting) or downward comparing (picking out what is wrong with other people so we can feel like we are better than they are).

What would it take to cut all that out and be bold in our love with people? Can we find our security of who we are from something more stable than other people so that we disregard ourselves when we are talking to (and about) them? Can we stop trying to impress them and look to be impressed by them instead?

When I cease my search for someone to say there is no one like you I can instead look for how this is true of my neighbor, and ways to let them know.