Cynic.

All weekend I fought back urges to share my two cents with the internet world. Facebook really does bring out the best in everyone. At the first sight of status updates regarding changing one's profile picture to a cartoon character in order to stop child abuse, I immediately felt confused. This confusion quickly transformed into my very least favorite attribute of myself: cynicism. I am thankful that I was able to repress each urge I had to announce, in the most passive aggressive way possible, my obvious disagreement with the viral trend happening before my eyes. I realized that at the root of my cynical nature is pride, and no matter how it manifests itself, pride is just about the most corrosive trait I can think of.

I was quick to find this blog, which I thought once or twice about posting as my status. I think it is well written and fairly concise, but I'm glad I didn't. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that what I was feeling was nothing more than entitlement. I felt entitled to judge others based on something as simple as changing a profile picture. Since I am not currently donating money to child abuse prevention charities or volunteering any of my time to stop the mistreatment of children, nobody else is either. At least I can admit that, instead of hiding behind a cartoon to convince myself and others that I'm actually making a difference.

That thought really did run through my head and I'm ashamed by it. If I'm really going to get irritated by something like that, I should be irritated by pink ribbons, American flags, etc. Sure, I think it's silly to argue that posting my bra color will do anything to help breast cancer research, but the fact that I'm sitting here posting this blog accomplishes what I think was intended by the facebook cartoon trend:awareness. The people who started this wanted conversations to start regarding the topic, and they did. I am proof.

This process of rooting out the things I don't like about myself is a long one, but I'm thankful that despite my cynical nature, I am able to think clearly once in a while.

I think the biggest thing I'm learning this year is to be patient and not let my emotions control me.
I think it's slowly driving me crazy.

I have a hard time articulating myself usually, so today I'm letting Donald Miller do it for me. This is from Feet of Trees:

In the first moments after I wake up, especially in the winter when I have left my windows open, I am quite taken aback by my existence; my hands, my eyelids, the feel of my feet rubbing against the blanket. In moments like this, I get the feeling that life is a great deal more complex than I am able to understand. I feel in these moments that I am fairly intricate and amazing; a speaker for a mouth, two cameras for eyes, sticks for legs, a computer for a head, a million sensors in a million places.

...I confess, I feel there is a God who is very big and who understands everything.

In the morning, when I get over these little moments of epiphany about how complex my construction is, I begin to fear the God that is, because he made all this that is our existence and he understand its physics. Whatever it is that understand the physics of this thing that is happening to us would have to be quite remarkable, with giant oaks for feet, perhaps, and a voice like wind through a forest and a mind that creates creations of which it might ponder in a way of learning what it already knows.

Love.

A few weekends ago I headed down to the Springs to visit my dad while my mom was out of town. I was looking through things, as I often do while I'm at home, and I came across a small calendar/planner. It looked like it was printed in the 60's or 70's and when I opened it, I realized that it was, in fact, pretty old.

It was my mom's when she was graduating high school and entering college. I think she had probably recently found it, and I was happy to stumble upon it. As I flipped through the pages, I smiled because her handwriting looked so similar to how it does now. She had things written in it like "first weekend at IU!" with a smiley face next to it, that to this day she still writes next to her calendar entries. She had different birthdays marked, event dates, and the norm for anyone's planner.

What made me the happiest were what I saw in the month of October.

"My 18th birthday!

Mark's 19th birthday!"

My mom had my dad's birthday marked as well as a date marked "one year anniversary." It was really special to see my mom's teen-aged swoonings for my dad so many years ago. But what was most special was knowing that they are still very much in love some 30+ years later.

In today's culture, or under any circumstances really, I am very lucky.

Their freshmen year at Indiana University.

Heaven Breaks

When heaven meets the earth, we'll have no use for numbers

to measure who we are and how much we're worth.

When heaven meets the earth, we'll have no use for mirrors

to tell us who to be and where we fit

in this awkward point of view.

We'll pray for heaven's floor to break,

Pour the brightest white on blackest space,

come bleeding gloriously through

the clouds and the blue.

Forcing one place from two,

Killing formulaic views,

Only love proves to be the truth.

It's a good time of year to turn over a new leaf.

Here's to me actually doing it.

perfunctoriness.

I'm in a strange place lately. I'm not entirely sure when I became a person so prone to apathy, but I've noticed it a lot in myself through these last three years in college.

It scares me how quickly I can remove myself from something that once really meant a lot to me.

I think it might be a defense mechanism. I'd rather run from something that might be difficult than face it. It might be a control issue. I'd rather let something go that I can't take hold of completely. I'm not sure, but apathetic didn't used to be a word that described me.

I don't think anyone is indifferent by nature. I guess what I'm trying to figure out is when I became this way. What changed?

I need to figure out what I'm passionate about.

"My people have committed two sins: They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug for themselves their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water."- Jeremiah 2:13

I am really good at digging broken cisterns.

Stars.

I've been thinking a lot about the stars. I'm not sure why, but they have always fascinated me. The fact that God chose to create hundreds of thousands of galaxies blows me away. It seems unreal that so much space and matter exists. There are more stars than I'll ever be able to even comprehend, and the space I take up on this tiny planet is insignificant. I'm reading Crazy Love by Francis Chan, and in the first chapter there is a link to a video, coincidently about stars. I felt slightly embarrassed at first, but it overwhelmed me to tears. At first I couldn't figure out why I had such an emotional attachment to the stars, but I realized that it wasn't the creation I was in awe of, but rather the creator.

These galaxies have existed since the beginning of time, and thanks to technology we are able to see them now. But why would God create so much that generations of people would never even know existed, let alone gaze at like I'm able to do? I think that's why I cried. I'm learning in my classes about the complexity of life, but there is so much that I will never know; details I will never notice. Maybe this is what David Crowder meant when he asked the God of creation to take his breath away.

" Men are never duly touched and impressed with a conviction of their insignificance until they have contrasted themselves with the majesty of God." -R.C. Sproul

Nowhere in the bible are we told to serve God at the expense of knowing God. Having made us for himself, He does not at first fashion us for usefulness. He fashions us for knowing Him.

I like that.