Tag Archives: War

You Are Time

Imagine you know you’re part of an army but you don’t know who your allies are. You know you’ve got enemies, but you don’t exactly know who they are. For all you know, they’re invisible. They’re often smarter than you, and they’re masters of trickery. It’s dark, you’re tired, and you know your side is losing. You start to wonder if resistance is futile. Eventually it really starts to seem that way. Then something drastically changes. Defeat seems inevitable until a new ally suddenly appears. He fights valiantly and he teaches you his ways. He heals your allies and defeats innumerable enemies.

Then, once again, something changes. He warns that it is only a matter of time before his death, but your victory. He is captured, tortured, and killed, and you are forced to fall back, but miraculously, just days later, he is alive and your enemies vanquished. He was right, and he celebrates your victory with you because now that enemy you faced is conquered for good. He eventually says that he has to go, but he will send his spirit so he can always love you and guide you and help you, and he keeps his promise.

Centuries go by until it seems that the whole world knows him, or appears to know of him. He is glorified in acts of heroism that mirror his own. He is honored in acts of love and goodness. Fantastic works of af art are created by those who love him still. You find, nonetheless, that things inevitably change. Slowly but surely, in many places he is forgotten; in many places is made into a laughing stock; even his very name is dishonored, thrown into the mire of language with unutterable words.

And you ask, “what does it matter? What is a name?” A name is how you are known. You are known by your name as a writer or a thinker or a worker or a finder, or something else that makes you who you are. He is a hero, still here, still living, and his very identity is used as a curse. His name has weight; it is precious.

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Sneak Peek

Ladies and gentlemen, I have finished the first version of my Creation story–the first story in my mythology. I just couldn’t resist sharing it with you all, and while I most likely won’t post any other actual material from the book on here, I’ll be sure to update anyone who’s interested on my progress. It’s still rough, but I’m pretty happy with it, so without further ado…

Creation

In the beginning there were only spirits. These spirits inhabited the realms few humans understand, far fewer have traversed, still fewer dare to, and some that no one has even heard of. Many of these spirits lived together in peace, governing their lands according to their nature, and living out eternities in mutual understanding. We have heard from the mystics that in the beginning, there were far fewer realms than there are today, and the ones that did exist were, and still are mysterious, deep, and inaccessible to natural forms.

In the beginning the spirits inhabited the Spirit Realm, the Realm of Light, the Realm of Peace, The Elemental Realm, and the Transient Realm. These are the ones we know of. It has been told that the Transients and the Elementals were not content to live in harmony as the other spirits were. It is unclear when their alliance formed, nor when the Great War that broke the worlds occurred, for the spirit world does not exist in measurable time. Some surmise it must have been millennia ago. Others believe that it has simply changed and that it is an endless war that continues to create and break new realms, new creatures, new spirits; a never-ending struggle that plunges all Existence deeper into the Abyss.

Some believe that it was the Transients, whose nature is fleeting, who turned the Elementals against the other spirits. Others believe that Inferno, the Fire Elemental, whose rage is unmatched and unquenchable sought dominion over the tranquil spirits of the Realm of Peace. This in turn necessitated an alliance among the spirits of all other realms. The Elementals are powerful, and the Transients are deceitful. Truthfully, not even the spirits of other realms know the exact cause of the War, but its end is legendary among all intelligent beings. It was the War of Creation, and the catalyst to all other wars.

It was Flint, the Earth Elemental, who met with Efell, a spirit of the Realm of Peace in secret to bargain for a cease-fire. Never before had two spirits, especially not from different realms fallen in love. Their union was a turning point in the War. Their love transformed them, creating the Sanctuary; a place that can only be reached in love and in secret. It is their sanctuary, and any being, mortal or immortal, who attempts to reach it, never returns unless accompanied by a kindred soul. It is a place of deception. Those who know how to find it alone go and are trapped. It is thought of as an escape from death, but the cost of this life is eternal solitude. This is the only reachable place in the Realm of Secrets, and can only be accessed by way of the Kindred Realm.

Almost nothing is known about the Realm of Secrets, but it was after the union of Flint and Efell that the Kindred Realm was formed. The Kindred Realm was, and is, like the Sanctuary, only accessible by peaceful souls. In the beginning, it was not much more than a bright expanse. That is how the spirits who have traveled to its outer reaches still describe it, and it is ruled by the purity of unmuted, unapologetic love. For some time, the Kindred Realm remained a secret, but eventually its existence could not be kept hidden.

The Transients and the Elementals, who had been allied for so long turned against each other, formed other alliances, and strove for access and dominion of this new Realm that they would never reach, and their anger towards each other only grew. If realms can be created out of love, they can be created out of hate. Many weaker realms, the names of which we can never know were destroyed, and out of these were created the Dead Realms, the Realm of Darkness, and the Realm of Fear.

The War continued into eternity, until finally it ended. It was out of one of the mysterious Dead Realms that the Exile came. It was clear at the moment of her coming that she was an outsider. She spoke in riddles and in truth, and confounded all who encountered her, except those who understood that Death was not the reason for her coming. Many did not. Many assumed that this was the end, not of the war, but of existence itself, for she came from beyond what can be understood even by spirits. She was an Exile, even from those realms. Her nature was unlike that of any spirit that had yet been encountered in any realm. Some saw her as free, some saw her as shackled, some saw her as an answer, and some saw her as wholly dangerous. At times she was pursued—cautiously sought after, and at others she was avoided, even to the point of being chased out. She was, in many ways, a contradiction.

The Exile wandered through the realms, sometimes in flight, though as a peacemaker whenever possible. She grew tired as eternity dragged on and peace seemed so impossible, for her nature, strange as it was, could not withstand the fear and desolation of an endless war. She yearned for companionship; for a soul to accompany her to the Kindred Realm where she would be safe. She confided these feelings to Flint who agreed to speak with her after some persuasion, but their meeting was in vain, and had dire consequences. Efell, though he was a spirit of peace, did not approve of their meeting. He feared for the safety of his beloved, and believed that if it were known that she had met with the Exile, she herself would be scorned, or even exiled. Efell sought a meeting with the ruler of the Realm of Peace, and convinced him that the Exile was much more dangerous than she appeared. He convinced the ruler that her nature was deceptive, and that she shared many more similarities with the Transients than with the spirits of peace. And thus she was exiled from the Realm of Peace.

Again she attempted to meet with Flint, who seemed to be her one remaining friend in all the spirit worlds, but the earth elemental had submitted to the will of her beloved and the two had retreated to the Sanctuary. The Exile was now utterly alone. Not only that but she had been demonized by every spirit dimension. Eternity appeared bleak. There was nowhere for her to go, let alone be accepted. Something inside her was shattered, and as she realized this, she realized that it was her heart that had been broken—the heart she never knew she had. Never before had there been a spirit with a heart. A heart had to be given to be remade. She knew this, and she also knew there was no one to give her heart to. She pondered this as she thought of Flint and Efell and grew to understand that they were kindred spirits and nothing more. They protected each other. Their love was deep, but it was the love of friendship. The Exile could protect no one, but she could end the war. Her broken heart would be the Barrier—what we now know of as the Outer Realm.

At a moment in eternity the Abyss shattered and twisted. There was darkness and light. Reality broke and solidified. In a moment the Realms broke apart and in their midst arose solid ground; the sun and the moon; the stars; plants and animals; creatures of all kinds, and at this moment, the Exile died. The ground we walk on was once the heart of an outsider. It is because of this Heart that spirits cannot travel from one realm to another without the help of a human with a kindred soul. It is also because of this that there has never been another known spirit war. A heart must be shared to protect and create and save. That heart was shared with an entire world.

The Intensity Of Head-Space

Today is Star Wars Day, so of course I have to write about it. There’s so much I could write about. Realistically, it’s an absolutely amazing story. It has so much longevity, and as far as I know, it’s the closest we’ve got to a parallel universe. What I mean by that is, for one thing, it exists in several genres. Regardless of the quality, one can read, watch, and play Star Wars. This has been true since the very beginning. The universe exploded with A New Hope, and it’s still expanding. What is also significant is that is the amount of contributions from fans. The people who love this story shape what happens in its future and in the parts of the galaxy we wouldn’t otherwise see.

The latest RPG I’ve been a part of is a Star Wars rendition of Dark Heresy. We decided to go this route because we understood and cared about that universe. The time period our game takes place in is the height of the Empire (between Revenge of the Sith, and A New Hope), far away from where the “main story” is taking place. Before this, I had been part of two Dungeons and Dragons campaigns. I hastily threw together my characters, not thinking too much about who they really were, what they cared about, or where they came from. This time I took time.

My character’s name is Sky Turin. Before becoming a Jedi padawan she lived with her father on the lowest level of a planet similar to Coruscant, though this was not where she was originally from. Her parents were from the Sky, which was the wealthiest part of the planet. Think of Cloud City. The Surface, where she lived for most of her early life was the poorest. Her parents were what would probably be the Star Wars version of missionaries, working to empower the poorest people on the planet. When Sky was nineteen she rescued a Jedi, not much older than herself, who crash-landed in her neighborhood while in pursuit of a Dark Jedi. Dark Jedi, if you don’t know, were force-users who were not directly allied with the Jedi or the Sith. They generally minded their own business, but the few Jedi who remained after the Empire took most of them out pursued them, either to bring them over to their side or detain them if they could.

While Sky was helping Val escape, Val discovered that Sky could use the Force, though she didn’t know what she was doing at the time. Sky went with Val to the remaining Jedi–none of them officially masters–and was permitted to learn the Force and become a Jedi herself, as the Jedi were desperate for recruits. After some preliminary training with a light saber, Sky and Val went to a planet similar to Earth to investigate a possible meeting of Dark Jedi in a mountainous area, similar to the Rocky Mountains. While they were there they were ambushed and captured. Their captivity didn’t last long, however, because Val was extremely powerful with the Force. They were able to escape, but had to leave in separate ships. When Sky returned to the Jedi council, she discovered that Val had not returned. The council would not permit her to look for Val, so she left and began searching against their will. This is where I entered our campaign. While I don’t know the specifics of where the story is going, I do know that Sky is assertive, hates the Dark Jedi, hates the Empire, and mistrusts the Jedi themselves. She has been taught that the Dark Side is evil, and will lead to her own destruction, but she’s so obsessed with finding Val that she will most likely not always stick to the Code entirely. She’s also impulsive and will probably make some stupid decisions.

I considered writing Sky’s story in full detail. In fact, I tried, but she’s too distant from me, for lack of a better way to say it. Ironically, I think I have trouble creating a story in an already existent universe. My novel takes place in a future version of the U.S., but almost everything about that world is my own. It feels awkward to me to write about a universe that someone else made, even if I’m inventing most of the details of a story that is otherwise original. It feels weird to talk about the Force and the Empire and the Jedi as if they were my own. It feels invasive in a way, like I’m invading someone else’s creative space. At the same time, the Star Wars universe has always seemed very inviting when it comes to original ideas. I think what this ultimately comes back to is that I’m much better at coming up with characters than I am at coming up with plot. I’m great at writing their past, but when it comes to writing their present, I often get stuck.

I’ve written two hundred pages of my novel thus far, and I’m about fifty pages into Part 2. Part 1 was a lot easier to write. So far I’ve had to write two battle scenes. I think they were both okay, but they both need work. I have trouble with timing and intensity. Right now I’m working on a captivity situation. I have to deal with the head-space of a character who has just been captured and is about to be interrogated by an evil government. This kind of scene is slower, but I think, just as intense, and I’m much better at writing this kind of thing. I think Star Wars is a very action-oriented story, and maybe this is why I have trouble writing in that universe.

One of the greatest stories I’ve ever read is Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky. Most of that story takes place in dialogue and internal thoughts, which one might assume would be boring, but it’s anything but. Solitude, in particular, can make for some seriously intense character and plot development. Head-space, while mostly metaphorical, is still space, and in that space, anything can happen. In that space, a character can go insane or overcome impossible odds. A person’s psychology makes them who they are, and plot can’t exist without characters. A world without people in it doesn’t matter.

I’ve seen some great and some terrible post-apocalyptic movies. I’ve noticed two things regarding these, and regarding my story. First, the movies that are good have more people in them. It’s hard for a story to maintain its momentum when no one is around to keep things going. Second, what I’ve noticed, and sometimes want to smack myself for, is that I keep creating more characters. My story takes place over a very large area–basically the entire United States. I’ve noticed that the space in which a story takes place tends to correspond with the number of characters that are needed to keep the story going. Sometimes great movies or great stories take place in one house, or even one room. Sometimes there are only two or three characters involved, and these stories can be great. Some of the most intense scenes in my story are conversations or even internal monologues.

Interestingly, in the case of Star Wars, we really don’t get to see too much of the characters’ head-space, at least not directly. Their personalities come out in how they react and adapt to various situations. This is clearly effective because we know and love characters like R2D2 and Chewbacca, who never even speak a word of English. However, I think to get to know characters in this way, there needs to be constant action. There isn’t a lot of time, or even good reason to slow down. Finding a happy medium is definitely difficult. I think the few exceptions are the exchanges between Luke and Vader in Return of the Jedi, but even these are short and almost invariably turn into light saber fights. The thing about dialogue is that it has to be executed well. There are far more longer exchanges in The Phantom Menace-Revenge of the Sith, but they’re often not well written. They’re either boring or cheesey. If there had been less talk and more action, I think they would have been better movies.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Why I Am Against Extensive Gun Control

A few summers ago, my dad, little brother, godfather and I took turns shooting at a pineapple with an assault rifle on my godfather’s property. It was completely pointless, hilarious, and innocent. It was also the first time I had ever shot a gun. We were very safe about it. My godfather owns a lot of guns and has plenty of experience from hunting or going to the shooting range. To make a long story short, we decimated the pineapple and then put the gun away.

I have to assume that most peoples’ stories with guns are in a similar vain: it’s just fun. Do I deny that these are dangerous weapons? Of course not, but I firmly believe that it’s your intentions that matter far more than what a weapon is capable of. Why does my godfather have assault weapons? He just likes to collect them and occasionally do pointless, hilarious, innocent things with them.

Many believe that if we had more gun control, or if civilians were not allowed to own guns at all, we’d have a safer society. This, at least from my estimation, is just not the case. If civilians were not allowed to own guns, the criminals would still find ways of getting them and the rest of us would be completely at their mercy. Last night there were gun shots and a bomb threat at my friend’s college in D.C. He and his girlfriend were evacuated from their apartment building across from campus and taken to a safe place. It seems like this kind of news is almost constant these days. My dad takes the train into Boston every day for work, and he carries a knife with him, but what if something really dangerous happened at North Station? What if something happens when I go see Star Wars with my friends? Whether we like it or not, these are dangerous times, and I personally would feel safer if more reasonable people had weapons.

Admittedly, I’m biased. I’ve lived very much on one side of the argument, and I’ve seen how guns can be used safely and reasonably… although blowing up pineapples isn’t exactly reasonable. I think it’s also a matter of knowing yourself. Though I am against more gun control, I don’t think I should have a gun. I’m clumsy, and I don’t trust myself enough to know what to do in a dangerous situation. If you asked me if I tend to have a “fight” or “flight” or “freeze” impulse, I think I have a “fight” impulse, and I know that can be dangerous. That being said, I still would feel safer if I had some way of defending myself and others.

The sheer amount of mass shootings and death and bad news lately is staggering and really discouraging. Perhaps my stance on gun control is partially in response to all of this. I want nothing more than peace on Earth. I want everyone to love each other. I am an idealist. Maybe I’ve become cynical, but I’ve begun to believe that you can just wish and pray evil away. There is a part of me that is a fighter, and though I don’t want to have to, I am willing to fight evil. It has to be fought. I will fight it with words because that’s what I can do, but I think the people who can do more should be allowed to. At heart I’m a pacifist. I will never start a fight, but if it’s a fight worth having, I will finish it.

To some this will sound violent and scary, and you could probably use my words as an argument for gun control. To be fair I’ve heard ridiculous, super conservative people say things that sound similar, but I’m not them. I believe in people, and I believe in freedom. At my core, I’m a Christian, and I believe in peace. In a perfect world there would be no guns. We could get rid of them, and I’d be okay with that. Put them in a box, and send them to the bottom of the ocean. We have much more constructive things to do with our time. To me it’s a matter of allowing a lesser evil to fight a far greater, far scarier one. I don’t believe that guns are necessarily a good, safe thing to own. They are simply a necessary evil that might keep our people a little bit safer for the time being.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

We Should Be Nice

My friend asked me to help her with a research paper. The topic is whether or not the U.S. should welcome Syrian refugees into our borders. I told her that I don’t know a lot of the details, and honestly, I don’t know the extent of the dangers that this could cause. All I know is that I am 200% for helping these people. All I can give right now is a moralistic argument, but here it is.

A lot of people in this country don’t want to let refugees into our borders for one reason: they’re scared. They are afraid that potential terrorists are hiding among the people who honestly just need a safe place to go. One argument I have repeatedly heard in favor of admitting the refugees is that their situation appears very similar to that of the Jews during World War 2. The counter argument is that it is actually a very different situation because the Jews were a clearly defined, and clearly innocent group of people. It would be absurd to expect any of them to do anything violent and troublesome. However, I think many who are opposed to bringing in any refugees forget that the majority of these people really are innocent. We can’t lock the doors to all of them just because some of them might be bad. We must help the innocent and needy. We need a proper and effective screening process that is also efficient so that we can get these people into a stable situation as soon as possible.

While there is and always will be a threat of terrorists sneaking in among the refugees, we have to remember that it really isn’t all that difficult for ISIS to influence American citizens to do their work for them. They target isolated and marginalized people who are seeking an outlet to express their frustration. Many isolated people simply want to belong to something, and if they are convinced that they are important to a holy war, and that they will be greatly rewarded, they may and have been led to do horrible, violent things. These could be French, English, or American citizens who feel that they belong nowhere else and that they can succeed at nothing else. ISIS recruits these people through commonly used social media sites like Facebook and Twitter, and through other less known outlets as well. They have people who are very technologically savvy and can communicate and transfer funds and information across the globe without being detected via the dark web (a closed system that avoids using sites that are detectable by search engines–for more information on the dark web, go here: Dark Web). So while there is a danger of radicalized Syrians coming into our country, there is always a danger of ISIS radicalizing our own people.

Lastly, the U.S. has seen a lot of violent crimes perpetrated by American citizens. Young American people who are frustrated with life go into schools and movie theaters what seems like several times a year sometimes, and kill as many people as they can. While we don’t know their motives, we have to realize that this is a result of isolation. People who have healthy relationships, stable home lives, and a network of support to help with any mental health problems they may have, don’t do these things. It is the people who are neglected and ignored who end up resorting to violence. In this situation, we can all take some of the blame. Our citizens simply don’t want to deal with these people because we’re too busy or because we don’t want to get into an uncomfortable situation, our government doesn’t help because they don’t have enough money, or because they don’t know how, and our religious institutions, Christian, Muslim, or whatever else, don’t get involved because of the complicated theological and existential implications, and because their leaders are inadequately trained to deal with these kinds of issues. Refusing to accept refugees is not going to stop violent crime in this country.

The ultimate solution to our problem is to be careful, but also to be loving. We can increase productivity and the overall happiness of our people, including those we help from other countries, by developing a more inclusive, more caring society. Ultimately what will solve our problem is a change within ourselves. We need to be willing to do two things: get over our fear, and sacrifice a little of our time. We can be kind and loving while still being practical, but we need to be intentional about it. We need to make conscious choices about how we act toward every other person. I’ve had this conversation with my dad over and over: if we could just show our enemies how prosperous our nation is and how happy our people are overall, we might change their minds about us. Our country was built by immigrants and refugees. By not helping our Syrian friends, we are proving our enemies right about us.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!I

Hey, Terrorists

Hey, terrorists. I want to talk to you. My name’s Katie, and you know what? I’m Christian. Guess what else? I graduated college. I’m writing a book, and I’ve got paid money to be on stage and play music for people. I bet you hate that. You know what the best part is? I’m not afraid of you. You probably see me as broken. You see me as an infidel, and there is no doubt in my mind that you would kill me if we crossed paths on the wrong day. I don’t hate you, though. I am angry with you, but I don’t hate you. In some ways I feel bad for you.

You don’t know my God, so you don’t know love. You’ve never known freedom. You’ve never known peace. Your lives revolve around war. All you want to do is kill people for your insane deity. I have a secret for you. Freedom and peace come when people can accept each other’s differences and get along. You are my enemies. You made that clear when you started attacking and killing my fellow Christians in Syria and Iraq and other places, and later when you made me worry for the safety of my friends in France. I don’t hate you. My God told me to love my enemies. My God told me to pray for my enemies, so I’ve been praying for you.

I’ve been praying that you would change. I’ve been praying that you would know the love and joy that you would find in the presence of my God. Your god is distant. Your god demands death and destruction, and your god will never be satisfied. My God loved you before you were born. My God loves you now, and my God will love you no matter what. He made you in his image. He made you in the image of love. That’s what he wants you to do. He wants you to love. He doesn’t want you to destroy. He wants you to show kindness to those you disagree with. He wants you to help the people who have nothing. He wants you to repent and give him the glory he deserves. Only love can create a perfect world, not your so-called holy war. Just stop. Just give it up. Isn’t that easier? No one else has to fight. No one else has to die. No one ever has to be alone ever again.

You call your fighters martyrs. You’re not dying for your god. You’re dying for your own ego. You’re dying because your leaders told you to. The real martyrs are the Christians you’re killing for believing in love. You can’t possibly be devoid of love or remorse. There must be a part of you that knows this is wrong. You are human. If nothing else, that makes us family. You are my family, and I will not hate you. Like me you have a family. Like me you were once a silly, imaginative child. Like me you must have someone or something that you love. Like me you believe in a greater purpose. We are a lot more alike than you would ever like to admit, I know. I bet if you and I sat down to coffee one day we’d find something interesting to talk about. I bet we could have a civilized conversation. Isn’t that easier? Doesn’t that sound nice? Stop fighting. Just think about it.

 

Plan B: Pass It On

Last night it hit me. Young people in the modernized, western world are turning to ISIS for stability, community and answers instead of the Church. Something needs to be done about that. Obviously that isn’t always the case, but the fact that it happens at all is a serious problem that is getting overlooked. My original plan was to start working on my own “propaganda” to try to bring people to Christ instead of the Islamic State. As most of my plans are, this was overly ambitious. I’m just one woman, and I don’t have the know-how to do it properly. My plan B, which probably should have been plan A, is this:

Lord, there are people in this world who really need you right now. They need to know your love and your peace. Please make sure that they find you. Direct them to your Church, and not to violence. Direct them to love. Use your people, Lord, and let us be loud. Let us be your voice. Give us the tools and the words; give us whatever it is we need to bring in the lonely, the weird, and the wounded. Lord, don’t let hate and despair grow in their hearts. Fill that space with your love and lead your people to Jesus–all your people. Lastly, please heal those people who have already chosen violence. Show them that this is not what you want for them. Show them that what they are doing is wrong, and show them that you still love them. Overwhelm them with your love. Let there be peace and forgiveness among enemies. Let us be one, all together under one God. Don’t leave anyone behind, Lord, and don’t let us leave anyone behind.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.

So my plan only works if you pass it on. Peeps! Pray this, too, and then share it on your on blog or Facebook or whatever else you use, and bug your friends.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Just A Quick Thought

earlier today my dad and I were talking about terrorism. I don’t rember what he said, but it was something like: “The terrorists should all be put in a box and given guns so the rest of the world can wait until they all eventually all just kill each other, and then they can all just go to hell.” It was more subtle than that, but that was what he meant.

My dad is very patriotic, and a little old school Catholic. In some ways, so am I. I mean my dad no disrespect. Jesus said to pray for our enemies. I don’t feel like it’s my place to condem them. They are bad people. They are wrong and broken. My dad said, “Not everyone gets saved, Katie, I know you want them to, but a lot of people aren’t getting past Saint Peter.” I do want them to be saved. I especially want the criminals and terrorists to be saved. I want the atheists and agnostics and people of other faiths to be saved. Not only that, but I believe they can be. Because I have to.

Miracles And Disasters And Storytellers

I read something yesterday talking about God’s worthiness (e.g. he is worthy of honor, respect, etc). It’s hard to understand the notion that one should fear God, but I don’t think it’s strange, nor is it opposed to the notion that one should love God. For one thing, God is scary. It makes sense that us puny humans would and should be afraid of the most powerful being in the universe; but on the other hand, this same all-powerful being, who could destroy all human life without lifting a finger, is the epitome of love. That is precisely why he is worthy.

I read a post on another blog that was talking about how some more vocal (and in my opinion, obnoxious) atheists are hellbent on presenting the God of the Old Testament as some kind of serial killer. It’s not an excuse to say that he did what he did because he had a plan and he was bringing his chosen people to their promised land. The fact of the matter is that, in a lot of those stories, he killed people, either vicariously, or by supernatural means. The fact of the matter is, however, that many of the Old Testament stories are allegory. Take the creation story, for example. If one believes in The Big Bang and evolution, which I do, then one has to read the six days in Genesis as perhaps six periods in the beginning of time. The earth was not made in six literal days.

Over and over, people cite Noah’s adventure as an example of where God just arbitrarily decides to kill off all of humanity. To be honest, I don’t have a good, literary interpretation for that story, but the truth is that I don’t need one. God didn’t wipe out all of humanity because we’re still here. There is no scientific evidence indicating a global flood, but some argue that there is sufficient evidence to suggest a “local” flood (i.e. a flood that devastated or disrupted the general area in which Noah and his family resided). Historically, peoples’ ideas of what one meant when describing “the entire earth,” were much smaller than ours. Most of the world was uncharted territory.

Perhaps there was a flood, and the people of that time attributed it to God. This is understandable. When one has no modern science, it is easy to attribute catastrophic events, and miraculous ones to God. But we don’t attribute earthquakes and tsunamis and hurricanes to God these days. Those are generally understood, by believers and nonbelievers alike, to be freak accidents. I think it is dangerous to attribute natural events to any supernatural being without some serious thought and investigation. That is not to say that God does not orchestrate natural events. Events like the creation and birth of a child are nothing less than miraculous, no matter how you slice it.

What this all boils down to is that sometimes I feel the need to defend my faith in a God I know is good and loving and merciful. I don’t understand everything in the Bible, and I can freely and openly admit that. I feel that it would be untrue to say that God doesn’t pick sides. I think he does pick sides, but often, he is on the side of the losers. He was, and still is, on the side of Israel, and Israel killed their enemies and took their land. This is true. His ultimate plan, however, is to unite the entire world under one flag. Until then there will always be wars. There will always be violence. There will always be winners and losers; but in the end there will be peace, and that peace will be unending.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Something You Should Know

I’ve written a few posts recently that have made it sound like I know Jesus super well and I know exactly how to run my life. Neither of those things are true. Most of the time I’m fairly self-centered, and a lot of the time, I forget about spiritual things until I go to bed. I pray before I go to sleep every night, but to be completely honest, a lot of the time it’s only out of superstition and habit. I pray during the day when I’m worried or nervous about something, but a lot of the time, I find that my prayers are selfish. The fact of the matter is, I think I am selfish. I want to be kind and helpful to people, but I’m distracted by video games and homework and friends and classes and commuting and relaxing.

Don’t get me wrong, I know I am blessed to have been born in the U.S. to a fairly wealthy middle class family. I don’t deserve what I have, but I am exceptionally thankful for it. I can’t begin to fathom how lucky I am. I’ve never seen war or extreme poverty or terrible sickness–not first hand, anyway. The point is that I get so wrapped up in my own life to remember those who are less fortunate than me.

I also know that I’m hard on myself about this stuff. I have done good things for other people, and honestly, I think I’ve made a real difference in some cases. I was part of creating an advocacy program for young adults with disabilities, and I’ve seen it make a big difference. I raided around $400 and did the Walk for Hunger last year. I know my music has inspired some people here and there. I just wish I could do more. I go through periods where I feel like I’m being lazy and I have too much free time. The trouble is, I don’t feel like I’ve made a difference where I want to.

Two things that I feel passionate about are mental illness and war. I can’t fix either of those problems, but I can pray about them, and I know I don’t do nearly enough of that. My other problem is that I am ridiculously disorganized. I’m not good at setting up fundraisers or demonstrations or even little prayer groups. I’m not a good leader.

However, I can do this: I have around 250 followers on this blog, and I can ask all of you, in whatever way feels right, to pray for the victims of any kind of violence: that they would be safe, that they would find places to go to or ways of defending themselves, and that the people causing this violence would change.

I also ask that you would pray for anyone suffering from mental illness, that they would find healthy ways of dealing with it, and that they would find support in loved ones.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!