Monthly Archives: March 2016

Trust

I trust everyone. Honestly, I assume that everyone has good, or at least mostly good motives, and really does want the best for the world and for others. That’s not to say I trust everyone 100%. I’m not naive. I know people have evil in them, and I know there are dangerous people in the world. I’m just not afraid of them. From my experience, 999,999 out of 1,000,000 are trustworthy. I believe this for a number of reasons.

I’m young and grew up in a safe suburban town, went to school at a Christian college in the middle of nowhere, and still live in the aforementioned safe suburban town. I’m an optimist. I simply want there to be good in people, and I choose to see the good. I’ve never really encountered any truly dangerous people. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and if I get hurt, I believe that some good will eventually come of it; I’ll learn something from it. I’ve never been disappointed when I give someone the benefit of the doubt, even if I’ve been a little unsure in the beginning.

My contemporaries and I were taught when we were kids not to talk to strangers. We were taught that evil was lurking around every corner. I don’t know when where or why our parents got this notion. To me at least, it seems entirely unreasonable to believe such a thing. You would constantly be living in fear. A friend of mine has told me that it’s better to be a pessimist because you’ll always be right or pleasantly surprised. However, I don’t necessarily view “bad” experiences in a negative light. One must either take responsibility for these experiences, or one must assume that these things were meant to happen and things will eventually get better.

I do believe in destiny to some extent. I don’t think it conflicts with the idea that humans have free will. God has a plan for each of our lives, and we can choose to go along with that plan, or we can choose not to and hope for the best. The trouble is knowing what God’s plan is in a concrete sense, especially in the day-to-day details. It often doesn’t seem to make any sense at all from a human perspective, and the truth is, this can get annoying.

In a recent post I wrote about how I want to belong only to God, and I’ve been exploring the possibility of becoming a Sister or a nun (apparently they’re different). I’ve also been trying to find someone to play music and write with. I’ve mostly been looking on Craig’s list, and haven’t been able to find anyone. I was supposed to meet someone at Starbucks today, but my parents wouldn’t let me. They didn’t trust him for several reasons, but I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. I live with my parents because of my disability, and it would be too much of a hassle to figure out how to live on my own. The fact of the matter is, however, that if I did live on my own, I would have met my potential musical copilot this afternoon.

When I was a kid I liked my quiet neighborhood. I could play in the street with my friends and a short walk around the neighborhood was long enough for me. I desperately want to move to a city. I want to be able to go places without having to get a ride. I want to be able to just wander off with an actual destination in mind when I’m bored and need a change of scenery. I want to be able to actually go somewhere for work. Right now I spend my entire day in my bedroom. I work in here. I write in here. I play music in here. I pray in here. I sleep in here.

A few nights ago I was doing research about religious life and for some reason it was making me anxious. Part of me wants to do this because I want to formally dedicate myself to God (i.e. I want to take some kind of vow), but at the same time, I’m starting to feel like that isn’t the life for me. I’m almost certain by now that God wants me to remain single, and I’m really okay with that. However, now I find myself asking “Why?” If he doesn’t want me to be a “religious” person, what the heck does he want me to do?

I’m still working on finishing the New Testament, and it’s like he’s drilling into my head: “Tell people about me!” I desperately want to, but I just can’t find the right words. People don’t want to hear the same old message. People don’t want to hear for the hundredth time that Jesus saved them from their sins and I don’t want to tell them that. I want to tell them about how I never feel alone. I want to tell them what it feels like to really be peaceful. I want to tell them how it feels to not worry or to not be scared. I just can’t figure out how to put the feeling into words.

I was briefly mad at God this afternoon. I was mad because he made me the way I am and landed me in this town. Being angry about it isn’t helpful, though. It doesn’t change anything. Because I live in this town I belong to the church I do, and I love my church. I love the people there, I love the priests there, I love teaching and volunteering there, and I love all the quirks that come with it. My church is definitely quirky. If I didn’t live in this insufferable town I wouldn’t have the friends I do. We wouldn’t have perfected our epic commiseration skills, and we wouldn’t be the people we are today. If I wasn’t born with MD, I most likely would not be nearly as empathetic as I am. If I didn’t live in this town I would have never discovered the culinary masterpiece that is Colombo’s Pizza. Actually, I probably wouldn’t be a confirmed Catholic. It was my music teacher who unknowingly convinced me to go through with it, and I wouldn’t have met him if I didn’t live in this town.

As I said, I trust people, but it’s way more important to trust God. I might just have to accept the prospect of never having a musical copilot. I don’t intend to make music a career, anyway. There’s no point in being mad at my parents either. I just started doing research to start a business with my dad. I think we will work well together. I’m learning a lot about the business world, and I’m finding it surprisingly enjoyable. I’ve hit a roadblock in my novel, and I need to do some reading to help me with that. Strangely enough, I’m finding that I’m busy lately even when it feels like I’m getting nothing done.

The future actually seems much more certain than it did last summer. In May I will have been out of school for a year. I still don’t entirely know what I’m doing or where I’m going, but I have a much better idea. I can comfortably say that I’m an artist, and hopefully I’ll be able to say that I’m a successful entrepreneur in the next few years. Time is a weird thing. It feels like it’s dragging on slowly until you look at it in retrospect. It’s taken me almost a year to get to where I am now, in terms of what I want to do. Realistically, that’s not a long time.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

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Red

My favorite color is red. I mean bright, LOUD, obnoxious RED!!!! It’s followed by blue-purple, then black. Apparently only 10% of women in the U.S. say their favorite color is red, which I thought was cool. I was bored one day, so I looked it up. If you looked at all the stuff I own, you’d know my favorite color. My mom got me a new bag for my birthday, and it’s delightfully red, and significantly bigger than my old one. I was running out of room.

I was thinking about why my favorite color is red the other day, and I think I have an interesting reason. I’m just one of those people who have to have a reason for everything. Generally, I think, most colors have at least vague connotations for different people. To me, red exemplifies power and energy, but also love. Of course it’s also the color of blood. Interestingly, I got into an argument about this with a friend on Facebook. Red has negative connotations for him because it mostly represents blood and, therefore, death. For me, it can also represent blood, but I generally associate this with life.

At various times in my yet short life, I’ve been obsessed with things. When I was a little kid I was obsessed with dragons. When I was in middle school I was obsessed with a mythical world my friends and I created that, of course, we had to rescue from Agorauth, the evil wolf demon. When I was in high school I guess you could say, in a sense, I was obsessed with myself–or rather, the fact that I was “alone.” When I was in college, for the most part, I was obsessed with school, partly in the pursuit of Truth.

These days I think it would be accurate to say that I am obsessed with art; with creating things. I feel like my art–in whatever form it takes–has to have a reason behind it. I don’t think you can create art for art’s sake. At the very least, artists create because we want to. Even if one isn’t trying to say anything in particular, there is something of the individual in every created thing.

Most of my art isn’t visual. I mostly work with music and written pros. I don’t create in color per se, but I definitely live in color. Everyone does. How we dress, how we decorate, and what we carry with us say something about who we are. Most of my important stuff is red and, in some cases black. These color choices have musical, not just visual connotations. I grew up on 90’s punk and alternative rock. From the age of eight I wanted to be in a band, and when I started guitar lessons at fourteen, I knew I specifically wanted to be in a punk band. That didn’t happen, but it translated to how I carry myself. Red and black are very 90’s punk.

As I said, I don’t usually work in a visual medium, but about a year ago I designed a piece that, until recently I didn’t do anything with. I can paint, though not incredibly well, and it takes me forever. The design I came up with was complicated, so that was out of the question. I thought about getting a tattoo, but no one would see it, and it’s important to me. Finally I was able to create a digital version of my design and I’m having it made into a pendant. I’m rather proud of that. The design is a butterfly on top of a rose that is being held by two hands clasped together. The butterfly is supposed to be white and the rose is supposed to be red, but I’m having the whole thing made in silver.

The colors were symbolic in my original design. The white butterfly was meant to represent redemption and change. The red rose was supposed to represent life and sacrifice. The two hands together represent togetherness with God. I think the design will look nice in silver, but I still think it would have been nice to find a way to make it into something with color.

I don’t think you can have too much of a good thing. We just haven’t found a thing on Earth that doesn’t end up being not-good after a while. Everything eventually ends up being boring or unhealthy. When I was in middle school I ate pickle-and-mustard sandwiches for lunch every day. Eventually I got sick of them and, to this day, I hate pickles.

During Lent I’ve been taking a class about knowing Jesus better. Last week we learned something interesting. People tend to replace God as a priority with four basic things: power, honor, wealth, and/or pleasure. The thing is, none of these things will ultimately satisfy us. We’ll just always want more. This is definitely the plight of the artist… or at least for me. It’s never quite good enough, so I keep creating, or I keep editing. Sometimes I hit a home run and I can consider a project finished, but it isn’t often, and I throw a lot of material away. Part of it is that I’m much more careful with my novel than I am with my songwriting lately. I haven’t written a really good song in a while.

It’s hard to write a really good song about a specific person or thing. I find it’s easier to write about ideas and invent specific details, or to start with something random off the top of my head and see where it goes. Some of my best songs have been the result of what started as “mind spew.” I have a new musical project in mind. It’s an instrumental piece because it’s supposed to convey something I haven’t been able to express in words (and trust me, I’ve tried). In a sense, it’s supposed to be synesthetic. You’re supposed to feel it as you hear it.

I find I can much more effectively convey emotion through sound than any other medium, whether it’s musical sound or something else. Specifically, I’ve only really been able to convey a sense of peace through music. A lot of my visual art actually tends to be angst-ridden for some reason. My favorite color is red, and while it represents love, I never really think of it as representing peace.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

I Made Up A Conversation!

“Jesus saved us from our sins.” Okay… so what does that actually mean? What is sin?

It’s basically two things: rebellion against God, and by extension, death.

How does one rebel against God?

Basically, “in the beginning,” however you want to interpret that, humans were told to obey and trust God… we didn’t do that. Thus, evil entered the world and was passed down through the generations. Later, Jesus tells us that the most important thing for us to do is to love our God and to love our neighbors (friends, family, etc, as well as our fellow humans in general). We’re generally pretty good at loving our chums, but peeps tend to forget about the first part.

Why do the actions of some people a wicked long time ago affect us now? How is that possibly fair?

It’s more like a genetic defect than a crime we inherited the guilt from. It’s not your fault per se. It’s just a part of you. It’s really your choices and actions as a result of the inherent evil within you that matter.

Who or what defines “good” or “evil?” Some things that are good for, or help some people hurt other people, so isn’t it all relative?

If morality is relative, one has to assert that nothing is good or evil. Therefore, things like murder should have no repercussions other than perhaps they would be seen as distasteful. Therefore, morality cannot be relative. If it is not relative, it has to be defined by someone or something. Only someone or something that could understand the concept of morality could define it. Therefore, someone intelligent must define it. Furthermore, absolute morality must be defined by someone who could understand how a small action in Boston could affect someone in Afghanistan. Only God can see the whole of humanity through all of time. Thus, God defines morality.

Can you prove God exists?

Not without using some personal experience (my own and that of a lot of others).

Okay, fine. Assuming God exists and sin is a thing, why did we need Jesus to “save” us, and what does that mean?

This gets a little complicated. We don’t just have evil in us. We think evil things and do evil things, even if they’re small and we don’t mean to. Jesus is God in human form. He died in our place so that we would be forgiven. He taught us how to be good in the eyes of God so that we wouldn’t do evil things. We have to believe in him and follow his example because he is God, and is, therefore, the ultimate good.

What happens if you don’t believe?

I think it depends from person to person. I can say that I’m much happier knowing Jesus than I was when I didn’t know him, and faith matters in this life. What happens when you die? I have only a very vague idea, and I can’t really say. All I know is that God judges everyone. How he does that, I don’t know. I do know that Jesus died to save everyone, and I figure we at least owe him our faith.

Humans! Send me more questions and I will attempt to answer them!

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Solutions

I am happy, and I want to tell you why. It’s not the kind of happy that you feel when you get some free time after a busy day or week or year. It’s not the kind of happy you feel after getting a really nice gift. It’s not the kind of happy you feel when you accomplish something great. It’s not the kind of happy you feel when you’re with your best friend. I know I just covered a whole bunch of different kinds of happy. The happy I’m talking about is the kind that lasts. It’s the kind of happy that can get you through the worst times; the worst situations in life. It might be more accurate to describe it as peace. I am peaceful.

People are angry, lately, for various reasons. They’re sick of hypocrisy in religion, or a seemingly stagnant economy, or corruption in the government, or discrimination that we just can’t seem to get past. I get it. The trouble is that anger and decisions made because of that anger don’t solve these problems. They perpetuate the problems. The solution is a lot simpler than people might think, and it has absolutely nothing to do with politics. It’s comprised of several parts, and it isn’t exactly easy, but I’m convinced it will work.

Anger feeds anger. Forgive everything, and make sure to forgive yourself.

Be helpful in any way you can. Indifference perpetuates injustice.

Be kind to those who don’t expect or don’t deserve it.

Be positive. Emotions generally dictate actions and decisions. Don’t let anger, fear, or sadness control you.

The solution starts here. Politicians and institutions will inevitably fail to live up to what we expect from them. People are innovative and creative and smart. If we work from the bottom up in small ways and in love we can fix the problems we face. It will force the people and institutions that create these problems to take a second look at us. They will see that we are happy and forgiving in ways that don’t make sense, and it will force them to change. It will make you happy and keep you happy, and it will do the same to them.

I am happy; I am peaceful and I know these things because it worked on me. I have experienced relentless love and forgiveness that was inevitably contagious. I was angry and fearful until I learned how to simply feel differently. I learned that I was loved, and I had to love back. More importantly, I had to spread that love to people who didn’t know it. Love is ultimately the solution to every problem imaginable. It is the strongest force in the universe, and in love, we the people will succeed.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

I Put It Behind Me

Every night my dad and I have the same routine. He comes home, we eat dinner together with my mom and brother and birdie-brother, watch the news until I can’t stand politics any more, and then we go downstairs to race and watch a movie or two before bed. My dad and I watch a lot of movies.

Every night we play Crash Team Racing, which came out some time in the 1990’s on the Play Station 1. We always play a best-of-five tournament, and we always use the same five tracks. We also always turn the game sound off and listen to music while we play. Last night my dad put on an artist that I didn’t recognize. I didn’t pay all that much attention to it, partially because I didn’t particularly love it.

I couldn’t sleep again last night, so like usual, I read. I was reading through 1 Corinthians, and at one point, Paul emphasizes over and over that God raised Jesus from the dead and he will do the same for us. Obviously it’s important to believe that. In my last post I talked about how I realized the fullness of what that means. He’s alive today. He’s with us in everything we do. I was reading this stuff at around 4:00 this morning, and I was awake, but sleepy. At some point I read (paraphrased) “he will raise us from the dead,” and though it wasn’t even an entirely formulated thought, I had a moment of doubt. What if he doesn’t?

It only lasted for a second, or maybe even half a second, and I immediately felt bad. I was annoyed with myself for thinking it and I decided right away that I would go to confession on Thursday. I can honestly say that my faith has been really solid and I haven’t had even a speck of doubt for a long time, so of course, my initial instinct was to sulk. Then I realized that a better response would simply be to put it behind me.

I do believe that Jesus is alive. I do believe that God raised him from the dead. I do believe that there’s a life after this one. Most importantly, I believe that my sins have been forgiven. It was an accident. Sulking about it would not be productive. More to the point, sulking makes me focus on me and how I failed and now that makes me feel. It makes me ignore God at a time when I need him most, and it makes me feel alone. So instead I prayed. I just said over and over, “I believe in you. I trust you. I’m putting this behind me. We’re good.” I made a point just to talk to God before I fell asleep, and it took me a while, but I felt a lot better.

While all this was going on I had a line from a song stuck in my head, and I realized it was from the artist we were listening to while I was playing with my dad. The line was “If I ever lost my faith in you/ there’d be nothing left for me to lose.” I don’t know any of the other lyrics, and I’m pretty sure it was about a girl or something, but that’s not the point. God was using those two lines to help me out because it’s absolutely true. Nothing else would matter. I’d be adrift with no destination. It’s not a matter of where I would end up, but who I would be with, and I’d be alone. I need Jesus more now than when I first met him.

Maybe that sounds counter intuitive. I think as you become more interested and involved in spiritual matters you realize just how big the universe is, and just how small you are. It’s so important to trust God. He loves everyone perfectly, and he desperately wants us to love him back. We can’t do that unless we trust him. I’ve come to realize that trust, even by itself, is almost even more important than direct love when it comes to relationships with anyone. If you don’t trust someone completely, you can’t love them.

I’m slowly but surely moving towards the next milestone, whatever that may be. I’m putting that moment of doubt behind me because Jesus put it behind me. It doesn’t matter because that moment of doubt isn’t who I am. I don’t belong to that doubt. I don’t live in that doubt. Jesus is alive, and I’m alive; I have faith because of him.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Big News!

I’ve had insomnia off and on lately. I’m not sure why. It’s not so bad. If I can’t sleep I read stuff on my phone and talk at God. If I were him I would have probably told me to shut up and go to sleep by now. It’s nice to have someone to talk to at 3, 4, or 5 in the morning. Usually if it’s at it’s worst I’m able to fall asleep and get a few hours in before I have to get up for the day.

I’ve come to think of God kind of as a storyteller. Often, if I can’t sleep, I just read Scripture, and I find that I like reading God’s stories, even if they’re not exactly happy. I don’t mean to imply that I think any part of Scripture is fictional or false. I just mean that a lot of it is narrative, and I like those parts. I’ve also really come to think of Jesus not just as my Savior, but really, truly as my friend. I’ve recently finished reading all four Gospels, and I feel like I’m really getting to know him. Last night I was at a worship service at my church, and I sort of realized in a truer sense–I came to know and maybe feel, not just believe–that Jesus is alive. It’s kind of hard to explain how I feel about that, so I’m just going to go with the simplest option. In my twenty-three-year-old-twenty-first-century mind, it’s incredible and amazing and spectacularly weird. I know and actually love someone who I’ve never seen in person. I worship a man-who-is-God whose voice I’ve only heard in dreams.

I’m writing this because I’m on the verge of an extremely important decision. Rather, a decision I’ve already made is quickly becoming more solidified. I’ve begun talking to my priest about what it could mean; what it really looks like to dedicate myself entirely to God. I am prepared to make sacrifices. I am prepared to do what it takes. That doesn’t make it any less scary. I’ve got questions. What does it really mean to take up my cross and follow Jesus? What does it mean to love him more than I love anyone else? What does it mean to pray without ceasing? How do I do what he wants me to when a million things, including myself, get in the way, or at least try to? While I’m awake at stupid 0’clock in the morning, I find myself asking “why” a lot. Why did God do X, Y, Z? Why did he tell his peeps to do X, Y, Z? I have to work some of that out, too.

Admittedly, some of this does cause me to worry, and I’ve had to remind myself just to worry about this moment and let God lead. Just in the past couple of days or so, several things have been sort of showing me that I’m headed in the right direction–mostly things I’ve been reading generally by accident. It seems like a lot of my spiritual milestones have been happy accidents until I look at them in retrospect.

So here’s what I’ve been leading up to… This is my formal declaration to all my friends and family, and of course, to the readers of this blog. I am giving my life entirely to Jesus. My next move is to figure out if that means becoming a Sister. I think some of you probably saw this coming. You now have license to make all the jokes you want. Admittedly, it’s kind of funny. I did not see this coming. Know that this will change me. How, I don’t know yet, but it will change me for the better.  Also know that I will always be a giant nerd. I will always be kind of weird. I will always be a writer. I will always be a total rock star. I will always be a space cadet. I will always be me.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!