we have cause to be uneasy

hey blog, it's been too long.

i didn't write this, but it rules.

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you

But make allowance for their doubting too,

... Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or being hated, don't give way to hating,

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

(Rudyard Kipling, "If")

hey you, let's not be weak men.

could we be people that identify and shun the counterfeit? that engages with self-abandon? that don't delight in idealism but instead act? that don't rely on the mass media to formulate conviction and opinion? 

for me, it's no longer about the four walls of a building. it's about knowing and interacting with the Great Architect. it's about knowing my place in the unknown.

i'm frail and small, even by the earth's standards. a man with dirty hands. but i'd rather stab myself in the eye with a blunt spoon than walk through this life having not fought.

p.s. read c.s lewis. and listen to la dispute.

today is the day my redemption began!

If there was one thing I could say to the world, this is what I would
say: Raise your eyes from sleep and see that there is a better way; to
all who want to seek, they will find, and to all who ask, they will
receive.

For there is love, hope and meaning, the very proof of this lies in the
fact that my heart is beating and I'm still breathing.

I doubt that you could prove the opposite. Yes, this is a broken world,
and yes, pain is evident. But the fact is, without death, life would be
but a meaningless nothing.

It pains me to listen to your cries of hopelessness. Listen now, hope is
within reach. You are not too far gone. For the love of Jesus is greater
than any power or dictate of this world.

endings.

giving up something that means so much to me hurts. especially with memories, friends gained.
but everything i pride myself on, i count as loss, compared to Jesus, my best friend and the only hope i have to be a better man.

again, lunch break lyrics.

'Of late my mind has been filled with false vision and pretension. It's
taken a while, but I've taken down the flawed systems I once employed,
and have nearly purged myself of all ill intention.'

So often I fall into the same trap: a consumeristic lifestyle, living
primarily concerned with self. It's such a foundational principle of
true love to forget self and lay one's life down, but too often I find
myself at the other end of the spectrum.

'God save me, lest I miss the point once again.'

:)

first words.

something i wrote whilst on lunch break the other day.
incoherent, perhaps! but it depicts part of a huge battle in my life, and i feel many others.
so i hope you draw some sort of gold from it.
peace!

---

My eyes have seen enough of this lust and filth. My ears have heard enough crudity.
My body longs for change, my soul thirsts for your streams, but i guess I've been scared of the way you brighten up this room, searing my eyes as i strive to adjust to your blinding light.

However, there is still hope for me; i know that once i see you these chains break forever, and these shackles fall off, only to waste away in the pits of hell from which they came.

I used to feel so far gone.
I once was a tree planted, now i am uprooted.
I once had a comfortable niche, but now i find myself outside of it.

I realise now that my life is not about security. It's not about plans, and definitely not about me.
For love is denying self and giving in, again and again.

---

listening: copeland - beneath the medicine tree
reading: the book of john, the perks of being a wallflower