L-O-V-E

There is a love that demands physical pleasure and satisfaction. This love is an external one, focusing and entering on feelings, wants, desires, and looks. This form of love leaves one disappointed, unsatisfied, hurt, and angry. It turns you into an asset, your friends into tools; instruments for you to use and throw away, just as you are to them.   
This love is one of the darkest forms of witchcraft, as the man and woman lie, not with one another, but with whatever they desire the other to be: a cunning image, a mental idol. And such sorcery cannot last. It leaves both parties broken and ashamed. This love is seeking only what it can get, and like a deadly succubus, drains life and energy from all around it. It shall die alone, for it must die alone, forsaken by all around it, nae, driving all away from itself. Such is not love. It is a grain of sand in the sea, driven and tossed by the wind and waves of fleeting emotions. It is desperate for something, ANYTHING, solid and stable, eternal and lasting.
And that is the one thing it fears most.

A love like that MUST keep everyone at arms-length, for when such a perversion of love is reciprocated by true and genuine caring, it will be exposed to the world for what it truly is: an abomination. It is Sin, it is Death, it is HELL.

Yet there is another kind of Love. A Love that sacrifices. But this Love does not case aside others for its own aim and purpose. It sacrifices itself to bring LIFE to others' mere existence. This Love understands that life is not about what we receive, but what we give to others. It is ongoing and eternal: it cannot be bought, it cannot be quenched, it cannot be killed.
It is gloriously wonderful and extraordinarily hard. It is often unrequited and more often merely spurned. But it Loves on. It holds no record of the past or expectation for the future. It needs no reward or even hope.
 It is because that kind of Love looks at the dark and the dying, the festering and the fettered, the rank and the rejected, the sinful and the scorner and sees only what they might have been, and what they could be… and Loves without reservation.
THAT Love cannot be counterfeited. It cannot be substituted. It cannot be acted, and it cannot be manufactured. It is, in point of fact, impossible for mere humans to conjure. We can only act as relays of that Love, as conduits from IT to others.

For God so LOVED the world…

The Times We Live In...

Ours is a dark time. We strive after everything and attain nothing. The God-shaped void  in the heart of every human remains unfilled. The danger comes, as G.K. Chesterton said, not when men believe in nothing, but when they believe in ANYTHING.

Our fields are white with harvest. The bread-baskets and cornucopias have never been so bountiful. Hunger and want are a minute problem to the first-world countries. We throw away more food in a month that most countries will produce in a year. And yet the heart of humanity remains hungry. Bulimia and anorexia are everywhere in a culture that hungers after so much more than sustenance. Our stomachs are full, our people are fat, and our souls are lean and starving.

Never before in the history of Humanity have we been so globally connected. A businessman in Chicago can call his colleagues in China, Japan, and England simultaneously. Online dating services, online role-playing games, avatars, gamer culture, Comic-Con, texting, iPhones, iPads, iPods, chat-rooms…everywhere they connect people across the globe. They are used by eight-year-olds and eighty-year-olds, both kindergartner and senior citizen. Children today, in fact, have the technological capabilities that thirty or forty years ago were the debate topics of PhD holders. Yet never before have people been so emotionally and spiritually isolated. The great lie of “individualism” has left us lonely and afraid, huddled in the dark, wondering if, when all electronics are off and all the systems are down, anyone really cares whether we live or die.

Global businesses have never been as successful as they are now. The concept of “billionaire” was the subject of science fiction only a few decades ago. Stocks, bonds, investments, business mergers, and stock options are the topics of all kind of discussion, around coffee tables, water coolers, and coke machines. Coffee shops and burger joints can be found literally on every corner and at every turn. The income of businesses exceeds that of most nations. Private businessmen wield more influence and political clout than the politicians and lobbyists nowadays. But never before have we been so poor. There is always one more dollar to earn one more thing to covet. We build our emerald castles and surround ourselves with beautiful things all in a vain attempt to forget that we all must die and all will turn to ashes and dust.

Our culture surrounds itself with neon lights and bright banners of entertainment and capitalism. Our movies and films are filled with images of pleasure and debauchery, creating a fantasy world that we may escape to for an hour at a time. With our TV, our cable, and our internet, we can prolong that escape indefinitely, to almost a constant state. But when the credits roll and the commercials break, we are suddenly filled with the horrible truth: that all the lights, the glamor, the fame, and the glory are fleeting and temporary. And again we are plunged back into the dark and harsh reality that we try so desperately to avoid.

Modern medicine has expanded the lifetime of the human being far beyond what anyone could have thought possible one hundred years ago, though means no one could have imagined even a decade ago. Antibiotics, bio-engineering, chemotherapy, nanotechnology, wet-ware neurology, and other ground breaking procedures stagger the mind and beggar the imagination. And yet, even the most healthy, the most fit, the most prime example of human vitality and virility lives in the constant and looming shadow of old age and the grave. All these marvelous procedures and wondrous knowledge, become vain attempts to outrun the Reaper, the beat the Boatman, to dodge the Devil, and escape the Grave.

With all of our food we are still hungry.
With all of our connections we are alone.
With all of our money we are poor.
With all of our entertainment we still weep.
And with all of our doctors we still die…
But do not despair. Do not mourn, do not weep, and do not lose heart. For we are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation. We are a people with the Promise of Hope to a world of slavery and death. Alone in dark void that threatens to swallow up all in its path, we hold forth a glorious Light. For we serve a God Who Is there and He is not silent. Our God is a speaking god, and not a mute thing of stone and wood, or a vain reflection of ourselves. He is the salt to a world that is rotting, decaying at the core of its existence. We may look out unique amongst the people, and know that this world is not our home, and we have a great and glorious inheritance beyond the grave. Our birthright transcends time, space, and death. We stand, not only as the Church united, and the Church universal, but as the Church victorious. Our God is a God of War, and the LORD is His Name. Through His blood, our foes are already defeated. We have a Hope, a Cause, and a Purpose through Him.

His Word will satisfy the hunger of your soul.
His Spirit will never leave you nor forsake you.
His Promise is sure and more eternal than any riches.
His Presence calms all fears and dries all tears.
His Life is forever.
His Love is eternal.

Amen.

IT

Hey guys

This is just the beginning of a short story I've been working on. Let me know what you think of it and any ideas on where to go from here would be appreciated and taken into serious consideration!


Chapter 1:

IT didn’t know where it was. IT didn’t know what it was. It didn’t know who the men in white coats were surrounding the table, nor why it was strapped to the table, or much of anything, really. But what IT did know was that it wanted a drink of water.

IT decided that being strapped to a table was overrated, so it merely sat up, breaking the magnetically-sealed steel reinforced bands holding it like so many daisy chains. For some reason, all the…doctors, yes, that’s what they were, were yelling and screaming like mad. Perhaps they were in danger. But what could possibly threaten them in this….laboratory? Laboratory? Odd, it seemed like doctors should be in hospitals, not laboratories, thought IT.

Its thoughts were suddenly interrupted by an overwhelming pain in its…what was the word….oh yes, there it is: shoulder. Upon closer scrutiny, IT realized there was a tube inserted into its arm. In fact, there were several tubes, connected all over his body…wait a minute…his body. Well, no need for these, he thought, pulling them out of his arm. It hurt for a few seconds, but then the pain strangely vanished. He looked again and saw that his arm didn’t have any marks on it whatsoever; not even a small speck like when he got his smallpox shot.

Well, that’s…odd. I need a drink of water…

In the middle of the lab’s mayhem, he paused for a minute, just to review what he knew so far: 1) He was a he (somehow that seemed reassuring). 2) He was a thirsty “he.” 3) He was in a lab. 4) He was surrounded by doctors who seemed to be in danger. 5) Doctors belonged in hospitals, not laboratories. 6) He could apparently heal rapidly.  Lastly, 7) He had had smallpox shot at some point in his life.  A good beginning, he concluded. Men have started with less. Ah, 8) He was a man. At this rate, he shouldn’t have anything to worry about.

After concluding his list, IT (for he didn’t know what else to call himself) began to ponder the great questions of life: Who am I? Where did I come from? What am I? Granted, the last usually isn’t a great wonder to a great many people, but you’d be surprised. Maybe I can ask one of these doctors…they’ll surely know.

IT turned towards the nearest doctor and said politely, “Excuse me, but could you tell me what I am?” as nonchalantly as if you or I were asking for directions home. For some reason, the doctor only went white with sheer terror and in his haste to find the nearest exit, slipped on the liquid spilling on the floor from the IVs IT had taken out of his arm.  IT bent down to help the poor man and because the man seemed to be trying desperately to crawl away, grabbed the easiest thing available: the back of his collar. With no more effort than flicking a fly, IT lifted the man bodily off the floor with one arm and stood him on his feet. The man ceased screaming and merely stared at this seemingly Superman-like person holding him a foot off the ground. IT thought this was rather strange (when good manners dictated that the man should thank him) when suddenly an epiphany stuck him: Are they’re scared of me?

At precisely the wrong moment, while IT was holding a terrified doctor at arms length, men in green coats with… something… came rushing into the room. IT wondered what they were pointing at him for about half a second before realizing they were guns. Not only that, but in all probability, loaded guns.

For some inexplicable reason, in IT’s mind, time seemed to slow to a crawl. Bullets came out of the end of the barrels in a slow-motion flash of flame, coming in his direction. Without thinking, IT flew under the table, feeling the still slow-moving bullets whiz over his head. He came up three feet in front of the first man, who still had his gun pointed at where IT had been.

I’m moving faster than they can react, thought IT. Time hasn’t slowed down…I’m just speeding up…but how?

 IT grabbed the man’s hand, delivered a spin-kick to the small of his back, grabbed the gun as it fell to the floor without even looking, then pistol-whipped the guard. How did I do that? It asked himself, but had no time to answer – the second attacker was now dropping to one knee, spinning to face this new threat. As he watched the bullet come towards him in slow motion again, IT flipped backwards, letting the bullet travel under him and kicking the second gunman at the same time. This time he didn’t even ask himself how he did it. He was kind of beginning to take things in stride.

What now? IT looked at the two handguns he had taken from the …who were they…oh yes…guards. This is a Berretta 92F…accurate close-range weapon… And this is a Smith and Wesson model 5906… 9mm caliber…and I have no earthly idea how I know that… Why am I so thirsty?

By now, the room was empty, except for the bodies of the unconscious guards on the floor. Well, I might as well leave as stay here, IT decided, walking out of the room into the wide, white hall outside. Upon leaving the room, he noticed a plaque on the side of the door – “Biogenetics Computing Lab.”

Odd.

The Tale of Anna and Steve: Paradise Lost

The tale of Anna and Steve: The Fall from Perfection.

Long ago, a loving father placed both of his children into the Garden of College. He gave them all the software they would ever need, both Vista and XP. But of the Apple, they were not to partake. Under no circumstances were they to own one, or use one. But all other computers were theirs for the asking, and under their dominion. And the father would Skype with his children in the evenings.

One day, that dreaded and hateful of all creatures, the HIPSTER, saw Anna watching him and his iPad. Now the HIPSTER was more cunning that any student of the campus which the father had placed his children within. And he said to the woman, “Has your father indeed said, You shall not partake of the Apple on campus?”

And the woman said to the HIPSTER, “I have a Vista and my brother has a XP, and I’m going to get a Windows 7 soon, but the Apple on Campus, Father has said, You shall not own it, nor shall you touch it, lest you downgrade.”

And the HIPSTER said to the woman, “You shall not surely downgrade. For your father knows that in the day that you use one your eyes will be opened, and you shall be as Steve Jobs, knowing good and malware.”

And when the woman saw that the Apple was good for streaming video and surfing the web, and that the screensavers and toolbars were pleasant to her eyes, and desirable to make one wise, she bought an iPad and partook in its pleasures. She also showed her brother and he partook as well, both with their own iPad. Then the eyes of both of them were open, and they knew that they were exposed to viruses and malware on their Windows Systems. And they attempted to patch together Norten AntiVirus to cover and protect their software.

Then they heard the sound of their father calling them on Skype at the end of the day, and Anna and Steve attempted to act nonchalant and delayed answering the call. When they did answer, the father asked, “Where have you been? “

The son answered, “I heard your voice on the e-chat, and I was afraid that I might have a virus.”

And he said, “Who told you that you might have a virus? Have you partaken of the Apple which I commanded you that you should not?”

After admitting their actions, the father bowed his head with sadness.
To the HIPSTER he said,

 “Because you have done this,
You are cursed more than all students,
And more than every beast of the field;
On your Civic you shall go,
And you shall eat soy
All the days of your life. 

And I will put enmity
Between you and the music world,
And you shall eat poppyseed cakes;
And everyone that you meet

Will want to crush your head.

 To Anna he said:

“I will greatly multiply your sorrow and your paper-writings;
In pain you shall bring Word documents;
Your desire shall be for your PC,
And Steve Jobs shall rule over you.”

 Then to Steve he said 

“Cursed is the software for your sake;
In toil you shall work on it
All the days of your life.
And you shall struggle to work with NET technology or ASP.
Till you return to the Windows operating system,
For the rest of the business and professional world uses it for any job they do;
For PC you are,
And to PC you shall return.”

Thoughts on Russia.

Only a few more days in Russia. I was sitting here, thinking about the question I have been asked many times by Russians and I know will be the first on the lips of the Americans:
"What was Russia like?"

That is a question I am hard-pressed to answer. Three months is a long time, and at the same time, a short time. A week-long mission trip is not enough to share in people's lives, to see what they see, to feel what they feel. And yet, it seems like only yesterday I stepped into Krasnodar. It's far too short a time to dwell among such great people. I am not the same man I was 3 months ago, and yet I have only been here a mere 87 days.
What was Russia like?
How do you describe something as big as Russia in a single blog post. I can only try, but I know that whatever I'm about to write will only scratch the surface.

What have I seen in Russia?

 I have seen a once-proud nation reduced to chaos and confusion. I have seen the rejection of truth and the willful choice of ignorance. I have seen people choose what is convenient over what is right, the road most traveled on, rather than the road most true. I have seen the shepherds of the people, charged with the welfare of the flock, instead make deals with the wolves for their personal gain. I have seen a blinding cloud of darkness descend over the land, condemning all who dwell underneath it to enslavement and backwards ignorance.
But that is not all I have seen.
I have also seen a light in the darkness, proclaiming liberty to the captives, wisdom to the foolish, and hope to the despairing. A lighthouse standing in the midst of the storm and calling out, "Here! Here is safety, here is rest!" I have seen the weak made strong by Divine Power. I have seen the captive's chains struck off. I have seen the naked clothed in truth and the hungry satisfied in righteousness. I have seen courage, where once there was only cowardice. I have seen passion, where once there was only apathy.

I have seen vast and mighty strongholds built up to resist truth and imprison the hearts and minds of men, and have seen the same walls come crashing down to rubble and ashes. I have seen both a people content to wear chains, afraid of the idea of freedom. And I have seen a people standing up and casting off their rags and proclaiming, "We will be slaves no more."

I have seen the Cross proclaimed, and I have seen the Cross triumphant.

I have loved Russia, and God willing, I will return. I am excited for Russia's Future. God is working great things here, and the winds of change are beginning to swirl. This summer has radically challenged me in many ways, and made me rethink several aspects in my life that I had never questioned before and taken for granted. God's not finished with Russia, and neither am I, I believe. And I know God's not finished with me.
I could go on for days, and probably will when I get back to the states, trying to articulate what I've felt and experienced here.

But the best (and really, the only) way for you to truly know is to come back with me. Until that time,

до свидания, друзья мои.
Do Svidanya, My friends. 

Да благословит вас Господь и сохранит тебя, пока мы не встретимся снова.

Russia Post 7: English Camp in Krasnodar

Wow… how do I even begin to sum up the past 2 weeks? They’ve gone by so fast and so slow at the same time.

Well, to start, I’ll introduce the UTSA team that arrived in Russia at the beginning of August.

Josh Wheeler

Sam Isenhower

Marie Isenhower

Jessi Adcock

Bethany Powell

Kristen Armstrong

And Johnny Hauk

These guys have been the greatest. They spent almost 18 hours in a Russian airport getting into the country, arrived jet-lagged and worn out, and then jumped head-first into the barrel of monkeys that is Krasnodar English Camp.

English Camp is a project started a few years ago that takes older kids (16-25 were ages or thereabouts) and throws them out the middle of the woods, and takes them camping, hiking, bike-riding, rafting, swimming, archery, and all the trimmings of a summer camp. Complete with no flushing toilets and no hot water. 

Me organizing 4-Man Tug-O-War

We drove 3 hours into the Russian mountains, away from the vestiges of civilization and camped next to the White River in Adygea, Russia. Caleb and I had been there before with the Hayes’ in July and, yep, the water was just as cold.

The next 2 weeks went by in a dizzying blur. I have never been so exhausted and having so much fun all at the same time. Caleb and I were organizing games, heading out river-rafting, teaching archery, and making some wonderful new friendships with some amazing people. Those guys were great, speaking in English which was always much better than my limited and broken Russian.

We all divided into six teams: Black, Red, Blue, White, Yellow, and Green. All during the week, we would have competitions pitting each team against the other (Volleyball, Ultimate Frisbee, archery tournaments, dodgeball, and battles with swimming noodles, you name it).

The FOOD was amazing!! (Shout-out to Christine Hayes and the kitchen team, you guys are my heroes!) We had Russian verrimika (I KNOW that’s not how you spell it, but it was basically chicken-n-dumplings), and American hamburgers and TEXAN Mexican food! I wept tears of joy consuming enchiladas and chips and salsa.

At night, we roasted apples, bananas and smores to our hearts’ and bellies’ content, sitting around a roaring campfire, sharing one another’s company and an unsullied view of God’s marvelous creation. Stars shone brilliantly, especially since the light pollution in the mountains was almost zero.

^“But ask now the beasts, and they shall teach thee; and the fowls of the air, and they shall tell thee: Or speak to the earth, and it shall teach thee: and the fishes of the sea shall declare unto thee. Who among these knoweth not that the hand of the LORD hath wrought this? In whose hand is the soul of every living thing, and the breath of all mankind?” 

This verse was shouted by the very creation around us, testifying to the Lord Who is there and Who is not silent.
The farewells were tearful and hard at the end of the camp, and we came back to Krasnodar mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted, but enriched at the same time. So many new friendships and so many lives were touched in the short time we were in the mountains. A single word, a touch, a high-five in the kitchen, or something as simple as a smile can affect someone’s world in ways we cannot even imagine and will never know this side of heaven.
All I know is that God was at work this week, and that I want to be here next year to see these faces again.
Russians and Americans both, my life has been blessed beyond measure this week.

Do Svidanya, my friends.

Hiking on Fisht Video

(Actually, the hike was more like 15 miles, we came to find out later, instead of 9).
But yeah, this is from the trip to Mt. Fisht, and it's a shame on the one hand that we didn't make it, but then again, they were only recommending that groups with climbing and snow equipment make the attempt to summit (we had neither, btw).