I've been reading Don Miller's book Through Painted Deserts, in which he talks quite a bit about societal issues in North America, particularly the materialistic expectations we have for ourselves. Our standards of worth are based on acquiring wealth, beauty, happiness... the whole package. The media has convinced us (or perhaps we have convinced ourselves) that if we just buy that new tube of lipstick, that new car, that new pair of shoes, we will somehow be complete. It is a vicious cycle, and I am coming to the point in my own life where I am realizing how I fed into those lies on the commercials, in the magazines, on the billboards. All they have done is distorted our vision about what is really important... and they constantly cover up the real desire behind why we think stuff will make us complete...

A Way Out

It seemed as if the dressing room was another world apart from the stage.

The rhythmic chants of the screaming fans had evolved into the soft humming of the air conditioning system. The multitude of blinding stage lights had died, and were replaced with the unfriendly gleam of fluorescent lights. It was the kind of cool illumination that exposed all imperfections when Jimi looked at himself in the mirror.

I used to live in a room full of mirrors; / all I could see was me. / I take my spirit and I crash my mirrors, / now the whole world is here for me to see.

He recalled the moments he spent on stage that night, in the spotlight, and as the focus of thousands of eyes. He recalled falling to his knees, his hunched posture, head hanging down toward the floor. He recalled how he had called out in desperation, the very depths of his soul exposed: If you know real peace, I want to visit with you backstage… peace, real peace, he could hear himself saying.

Most of all, he recalled the sound of silence.

And now he waited.

He waited for a knock on the door, a voice which carried word of true peace, of true hope.

He waited alone in the stillness, his thoughts frantic, restless… haunting him and clouding his senses.

The story of life is quicker then the blink of an eye, / the story of love is hello, goodbye…

To be surrounded by a crowd… he would give anything.

The world spun, rapid in its fire. Somewhere in the distance, the sound of waterfalls could be heard- a chorus, rising above the constant ringing in his ears. Echoes from a far-away land resonated in the silence of that dressing room. Over and over. Over and over and over again, his own words floated in the dark, colorless, traveling around the earth and back again to where he knelt… I have been dead a long time. A long time. I have been dead. Dead. Dead.

I am dead.

He became very still, staring straight ahead at a stain on the wall. The chaotic ramblings of his own brain were shouting at him, volume ever rising. Rising, louder, louder, to the very point of death. Nothing! You are nothing, the voices shouted and shrieked, louder still. The torment dug down into his soul: sing a song, Jimi. Sing, sing, sing. Sing and play the hell out of that guitar! Play that damn guitar to hell… The volume of the noise, the voices, the shouts fell on him with the weight of the entire universe. The entire universe, empty and meaningless as it may seem. It crushed his bones.

Suddenly, the chaos was swallowed in an instant by a black hole in a dark corner of the sky.

Jimi sat quietly, with a kind of distorted, clouded clarity.

At that moment, he knew what he had to do…
-ec


*This piece was based loosely on the story of Jimi Hendrix a few nights before he died.*

A Shattered Rainbow

“It’ll be a day like this one when the sky falls down / and the hungry and poor and deserted are found…” -Switchfoot

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The sky rolled up like a scroll as the rainbow fell to the earth with a great, thunderous blast. The ground beneath the children’s feet trembled. Fear, uprooted, became terror. They hesitated to lift their eyes for fear of what they might witness. The sun was gone, the moon had fallen from the night sky. The mountains slid into the sea; the land, overtaken by the ocean. Regret. Grief. Jealousy. Desperation. The world was caving in, and not one soul was at peace. Suddenly, silence. The time had come; the end had finally come.

Yet, amongst the upheaval, a chorus began to sound. It was a song of praise; a song of humble hallelujahs. I turned my head to see children, kneeling. There were millions of faces, millions of smiles. There was such a great number of children, they could have formed an army. Little ones, half naked, with rags for clothing; cracked, calloused clubs for feet; tousled straw for hair. Children with a light, a joy in their eyes that could only come from heaven. They had nothing to live for, and yet they had everything to live for.

I kneeled with them. They knew a secret; a something I had not been told. Yet, now, with the clouds rolled back, it was no longer a secret: I no longer felt blind to the truth. I no longer felt lost; no longer was I disoriented. I knelt, and I sang, because I knew the truth.

After the storm had subsided, the children discovered an immaculate vessel, filled with gold. Brimming, overflowing, abundant treasure. It was kept hidden until this day, given only to those who had finished the race, fought the good fight. Those who had given the heavens more than simply a passing glance. Those who lived their lives knowing that there was something bigger; something more beautiful than this world could ever offer. Those who were deserted, naked, hungry, despised, without hope. To them was given this treasure.

On that day, the ones whom the world tried to discard will no longer be lost; no longer forgotten… indeed, they will be found.

The end had finally come.

-ec


**This piece is the first in a series of writings inspired by my own photographs. Follow the link 'My Flickr Photos' on the sidebar to see more. Stay tuned!**

the snow and the stable

The first sign of the Christmas season has arrived with a gentle vigor: the snow. I love how it seems to interrupt our schedules... schools closed for the day, highways too treacherous to travel on, and everyone is advised to simply stay home. It forces us all to slow down, take a breath, enjoy a steaming cup of hot chocolate, and connect with our inner childlike spirit while playing in the snow.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I was thinking about this whole thing we call Christmas... and how beautiful it is regardless of the messiness of my faith. The truth is that God came to earth, but not as a king or a ruler as many people expected. He came as a baby, with tiny hands and tiny feet. How could it be that God, the Maker of the universe, was willing to be born in a run-down stable? Why would he want to be subjected to humiliation, as he was when his own people rejected him and labelled him a lunatic?

Perhaps it doesn't have to make sense...

I've always been a very analytical person. It has been a mixed blessing... at times it has helped me a lot, but it also tends to cripple my faith. I am realizing that the habit I have of over-thinking everything has caused me to miss out on the greatest things... just being still; allowing God's love to penetrate my soul; listening to his voice tell me that when the world told me I had no worth, they were lying...

But I'm so ready to let go of that... I don't want to fight it anymore. Perhaps this is the point to which we need to come for God to truly enter our hearts. Think about it: if God looked to what we thought about how the Messiah should display his power, and became an earthly ruler with earthly power, what kind of a mess do you think we'd be in? We would be even more narcissistic, materialistic, and delusional.

My analytical nature has to be quieted when it comes to our redemption. The truth is that it doesn't have to make sense to us... all we have to do it let our guards down and allow the living God to dwell inside of us, as he chose to dwell inside of a run-down stable.

it's time for the bleeding to stop...

Check out this site...


"...as if something was broken in the world and we were supposed to hold our palms against the wound." ~Don Miller

www.twloha.com

being human

It was during our class missions trip to Terrazas, Mexico when I realized what it truly means to be human. Our group of grade 12 students stood in front of the Mexican family’s finished house, as the intense afternoon sun shone down on us. Every house around us- many no better than shacks- seemed to be the same color: a bland, lifeless grey, much like the color of dust. The smell of sewage and gloom lingered in the air. The ground was dusty and dry; we were sweaty, tired, and overwhelmed by the heat. We had worked stuccoing their house for the past two days, and our job was finally completed. As a group, we had also pooled together some money and bought each of the children and the grandmother foamy mattresses and pillows. They now held their new beds in their arms and they began telling us how thankful they were for our work and our time, but most of all, for being able to meet us. After each of the family members had finished thanking us, the majority of us had begun to cry and we sadly began to say our goodbyes.

It was then that the grandmother of the family approached me, with tears in her eyes and embraced me in a hug. She was sincerely thankful, and it showed in the way she hugged me, and how she spoke, saying “Thank you,” and “God bless you” in Spanish again and again. Throughout the time we worked on the family’s house, I had felt a special connection with her. Every time our eyes met, we would each smile- and then, for some reason, we couldn’t help but laugh with one another. Words weren’t necessary to communicate. In that moment, as we hugged one another, it felt like the barriers of life (language, social status, nationality, possessions, wealth, age) all fell away. It was as if all that was left were two human beings blessed by one another.

Something powerful lies in the act of unselfishly helping another human being- it is so incredibly fulfilling. In that moment, as the grandmother and I hugged, I think that a piece of God’s purpose for my going to Mexico, personally, was fulfilled. A cold glass of water was thrown on my perception of the less fortunate- I had always felt a certain pity for them, almost looking down on them in a sense. However, everything I experienced in Mexico taught me a great deal about what it means to be human. All too often (particularly in North American culture), we allow the differences between the nations of this world to separate us. In truth, we aren’t as different from each other as we sometimes think we are. Regardless of race, religion, or poverty level, we share the same condition- we all fall down; we all fail; we all hunger to be fulfilled by something outside of ourselves. When one is placed in a situation such as traveling to Mexico to serve the poor, an awareness of this ‘human condition’ is ushered in. Really, the extent of one’s riches or possessions doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, the truth is that we are all human: at times broken, hurting, and lonely, but through whom God is able to do great things.

I found myself, standing on a dusty road underneath the scorching Mexican sun, no longer able to hide behind my reputation, my insecurities, my possessions, my achievements. There I was, I was covered in dirt and sweat, wearing old clothes, tears running down my face, and yet so very content. In that moment, I was humbled; I was blessed. I was at peace with the human being I am.

I feel like I'm in transition.

I got back from a youth conference in Anaheim a few days ago, and I've been mulling over all that God stirred in my heart while we were there. It was an emotional trip, I must say.

Sadly, Pastor Carol passed away while we were away after her battle with brain cancer. At first I was just in shock... it still hasn't totally sunk in. Our church is pretty large, so in the short time I've been going there, I didn't get the chance to spend a ton of one-on-one time with her... but even so, I felt like I knew her really well. She wore her heart and all of who she was on her sleeve. She was one of the warmest and most caring people I have ever known. She was truly beautiful, and radiant with a kind of love that can only come from God. We are all going to miss her very much...

I was thinking about her last night as I listened to Kendall Payne's song "The Moon"...

"The moon's worn thin
Succumbed to the pressure
Her silver dress
Hangs in the sky like a rag

Her coat, her cloak
Her cover of darkness
It fails to hide
The tears that she's cried
Oh she cries...

But she still shines
Though the night fall around her
And by her light
I find my way
When I fear the path laid before me
I look to the light of her face...

And thank her for being so brave..."

It strikes me how brave Carol truly was in facing her illness. How she gracefully accepted God's will and purpose for her life inspires me to do the same, even though it's terrifying and exciting and unpredictable and humbling and all of the things that are truly good in this life. And, through the sadness that everyone in our church is feeling right now, there is no denying that God is good. In the words of C.S. Lewis... no, he's not safe: but he is good.

DAISY

Daisy give yourself away
Look up at the rain, the beautiful display of power and surrender
Giving us today when she gives herself away
Rain, another rainy day
Comes up from the ocean, to give herself away
She comes down easy on rich and debt the same when
she gives herself away
Let it go, daisy let it go
Open up your fist...this fallen world
Doesn't hold your interest, it doesn't hold your soul
Daisy let it go
Pain, give yourself a name, call yourself contrition, avarice or shame
Giving isn't easy, neither is the rain and she gives herself away
Daisy why another day, why another sunrise, who will take the blame
For all redemptive motion and every rainy day

He gives himself away

Let it go, daisy let it go
Let it go...

Written by Jonathan Foreman

(c) 2005 Meadowgreen Music Company and Sugar Pete Songs

"Love moved me, which compelleth me to speak."

(from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's 1865 translation of Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy, available online at www.everypoet.com/archive/poetry/dante/dante_contents.htm; Inferno, ll. 72)

my job stinks

Today was pretty much the worst. I started working this morning (making waffle cones, in case you didn't know) at 8:30 and didn't finish until like 4:30... it was my first 'real' shift after training yesterday and boy, am I sore. It's hard to be on your feet for eight hours straight.

Anyway, all that would have been fine...peachy, in fact....but the two girls who were working with me today were so mean. They were nice to my face even when I messed up like 40 cones because I didn't fold them right... but when I was done, I was waiting outside for my mom to come pick me up and I heard them talking about me. They were being really arrogant about the fact that I messed up the cones... but, it was only my second or third time making them. So I just don't even want to try to make them better next time... I never want to go back again...

Well, on the bright side, I think I'll be alright. It's not that big of deal that making cones isn't my life-calling...

Hmm....

So, wow. I haven't blogged in a very, very long time. School's almost done, now, and I should be studying... but something distracted me. This is the story of my life, people. Actually, I did study for a bit... I went outside on our deck and sat in the sun and re-read Paradise Lost (which is awesome, by the way. I would definitely recommend it). My dog and I were the only ones home, so he came outside with me and relaxed on his little blanket for a while.

I saw Paris Hilton's debut video last night for 'Stars are Blind'. It made me shake my head (no, not like rocking out... shaking as in disgust). I will try to be nice when I say this... I have absolutely no respect for her whatsoever. I don't think anybody in their right mind does. It's people like her who influence young women to exercise the 'my body is here for you to ogle at' mindset. I've been there before, and let me tell you, it only messes you up. The majority of young girls see Paris flaunting her stuff on TV and think that acting like she does is the only way to get attention from boys... and the sad part is, that is true most of the time. Boys have given in to the media frenzy and have become sex-craving individuals. Our society is spinning out of control, man. We need more people of influence to stand up and say, "Hey, this isn't healthy, and its not okay."
If Paris Hilton really wanted people to take her seriously, she would not have made her first video the way it is. I don't understand why she isn't humiliated all the time. She could have made an intelligent, clever video and changed people's perception of her... because I know that deep down inside, underneath her reputation and all that crap, she truly is smart and witty and all the things that makes someone beautiful on the inside. God wouldn't make someone to just sit and look pretty. He doesn't make junk.
Honestly, I think that people like Paris Hilton are just really, really lonely. Why is it that we search to fill our emptiness with things like that...sex, money, clothes, possessions... over and over again... only to find that none of that ever works? It's like we're frantically trying to prove to everyone else that we're worthy of affection and love. When did our worth begin to rely on the things that we own...what we look like...who we associate with?
The truth is that we are lonely, empty people and don't know where to look for true fulfillment and love. Our worth can only be found as we look into the eyes of our Maker...

"The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual Star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men."

(T.S. Eliot's The Hollow Men, lines 52-67)

a rant.

Last night I tuned in for the first episode of Unanimous, Fox's new reality show. It's about these nine people who are basically stuck in this underground bunker until they can have a unanimous vote as to who should get the prize: $1.5 million. Each person has to convince everyone else to vote for them... so as you can imagine, there is MAJOR deception going on inside that place.
Anyway, what really ticked me off from last night's show was an argument between two of the participants; Kelly, a church minister, and Jameson, a homosexual man. Kelly was totally reeming him out for being gay... she even had the audacity to straight-out tell him that he is "going to hell". It really hit a chord in me... I am a Christian, but I don't ever want to become like that. Yes, the Bible says that homosexuality is wrong, but doesn't it also say that judging others is wrong?

So there is my incomplete thought. I leave you with a quote from an aboslutely amazing book, A New Kind of Christian, by Brian D. McLaren.

"It's none of your business who does and who does not go to hell. It is your business to be warned by it and to run, not walk, in the opposite direction! It is your business to love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength, to love your neighbor as yourself, to have confidence in Jesus Christ and live as Jesus lived. Let the imagery of hell remind you that life is serious business, that there are real consequences to how we live and believe, that justice and injustice ultimately matter more than most of what people worry about. Now stop speculating about hell and start living for heaven!"

green like moss
won't stop growing
like poison ivy
winding, burning
spent too much time looking,
looking left, looking right

i'm stuck
can't find the way
that's meant for me
and only me
i am tangled up
coloured by
covered up in envy

should've known
chasing another road
should've been
tending my own

now i can't see the great big path for these petty wings

"envy" (c) jaylene johnson 2003

our pitiful society...

Tomorrow I'm going to Mt. Washington with the youth group! We're going to be tubing all afternoon, and then doing some night snowboarding/skiing (the latter for me!) It should be interesting, because I've never been before...in my life. I know. It's sad.

So my mom, my sister, and I went out to buy some equipment today, and I have to say that I have a newly found adoration for long johns. In fact, I'm wearing them right now as I sip my vanilla chai tea latte. Anyway... they're just so warm and comfy. I love them.

That reminds me... lately, I've become more and more aware of how obsessed I am with buying new stuff. I know it sounds stupid, but in this society, I find that it's hard for us to not see our worth through the things we own. We're taught how to revolve our lives around the things we want... and it becomes difficult to see the fine line (or the really thick one) between what we want and what we truly need.

Switchfoot's Jon Foreman says it best on their website (www.switchfoot.com):

"Over the course our time on the road as a band I have met so many amazing, beautiful, desperate, lonely people. We are the lonely nation. We are the disenchanted, the disillusioned- we are the remnant of lonely souls wanting more than anything that we can buy with this cold, hard cash. [...] Here you have this connected generation of online communities, IM, TM, myspace, and cell phones that grows more and more lonely every day. " (Jonathan Foreman)

I took this picture of our table after my grandparent's 45th wedding anniversary party.

A book that makes me happy.

Right now I'm writing an essay on the role of women in Canada throughout the 20th Century (it's for school... no, I don't just randomly write essays.) I went and got a couple books from the library to research it... and I seriously have fallen in love with one of them. It's called In Times Like These by Nellie McClung (she was a feminist who lived during the late 1800s-early 20th century.) She's really sarcastic and funny in the book, but she also very intelligently lays out a pretty decent argument for equality between the sexes, not only that, but also for all kinds of justice that is needed throughout the world. It's an old book, but it makes me want to get up and do something good. Here's a blurb or two...

"We have been travelling below our priviledges. There is enough for everyone, if we would get at it. There is food and raiment, a chance to live, and love and labor - for everyone; these things are included in our ticket, only some of us have not known it, and some others have reached out and taken more than their share, and try to excuse their 'hoggishness' by declaring that God did not intend all to travel on the same terms, but you and I know God better than that."

"Years ago people broke every law of sanitation and when plagues came they were resigned and piously looked heavenward, and blamed God for the whole thing. 'Thy will be done,' they said, and now we know it was not God's will at all. It is never God's will that any should perish! People were resigned when they should have been cleaning up! 'Thy will be done!' should ever be the prayer of our hearts, but it does not let us out of any resposibility. It is not a weak acceptance of misfortune, or sickness, or injustice or wrong, for these things are not God's will."

Job 23:8-10

"But if I go to the east, he is not there;
If I go to the west, I do not find him.
When he is at work in the north, I do not see him.
When he turns to the south, I catch no glimpse of him.

But he knows the way that I take; and when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold."

crappy-ness

A couple nights ago at youth group I felt pretty bad about myself. Have you ever had a time where you knew that you should take care of things and clear things up with God, but you didn't? Yeah, that's me. Part of it is that it feels like I have a whole lot of stuff clouding up my brain right now. I'm verrry distracted- by wanting a boyfriend and the self pity and loneliness that comes along with that, by worrying about what other people think, by being really critical of everything and everybody... And the thing that I'm really struggling with right now is the way that others Christians talk. It feels like lacks so much emotion sometimes, and it fails to describe God in the way that He should be described. God is just so deep... and the way we speak of Him almost changes being a Christian and believing in Him into a formulaic list of rules and sayings. It can become very boring. Man... I don't know how else to describe it. Forgive me if it doesn't make sense.
So, anyway. I was at youth group sitting by myself being pretty quiet (my friends were off somewhere else) and I really felt like I needed somebody to talk to. So, lo and behold, over comes one of the nicest people I have ever met- she's one of the Kaleo students at our church. I don't know what compelled her to come over and talk to me, (come to think of it, it was probably the scowl I had on my face...yep. Reeeal pretty) but I'm so glad she did. I kind of poured my heart out to her... and she wrote me an email later on that was so amazing because she told me about a time where she went through the very same insecurities I'm going through right now. So now I feel better. And it doesn't hurt as much. But I guess God is not a snap-His-fingers-and-everything's-perfect kind of guy. That reminds me of a pin that some people used to wear... "Please be patient. God isn't finished with me yet."

justice.

Last weekend after our tournament on the mainland, we went to Ikea! It was my first time there, and I have to say that now I'm hooked. The only thing that makes me question my newly found love of it is the fact that on the packages of the things I bought, most of them said 'Made in Lithuania' or '...Viet Nam.' I don't want to support the use of sweatshops or cheap labourers on third-world or even second-world countries. I don't want to make those people suffer for my desire to make my room look nice. It's not fair, and it just doesn't make sense that we, North America, as a continent, basically has the rest of the world working to satify us.
I'm not saying that Ikea does use these methods to make their products, because I don't know. But, the fact is that MANY companies do. And many of us don't realize when we buy certain things... we could be supporting practices that are very, very wrong. Example: the laptop on which I am typing this was made in China. What a hypocrite I am.
It makes me think about when Jesus clears the temple and gets really mad at the people selling things there. He fought for what was the right thing to do. Our God is a God of justice, and it is what he seeks. But what a mess we make of it sometimes.

I love my life!

So, this year I just randomly joined the basketball team and I'm having a blast. Other than my weird perfectionism that seems to kick in HARD when I mess up, B-BALL (haha, I always hated that abbreviation-thingy) is pretty fun. We're going to the mainland tomorrow for a tournament and we're spending the night in the gym at the school (I was hoping that it was something more like a hotel, but oh well.) This is the first year I've played... and let me tell you, it is humbling. It's also the first year I've played on a team that is so team-y (I apologize for my lack of adjectives)... there's just so much looove! I'm so glad they're not mean to me for being not so great.... haha.

I don't really have time to talk about anything else. I have to pack for our big ROAD TRIIIIP! (Or should I say 'FERRY TRIIIP'?)

No school tomorrow. That means I can procrastinate and not do my homework. Even though I'll probably end up doing it anyway.

Oh well.

ellie