Undivided Life

“I Live by Faith”

Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. (Hebrews 11:1) But is that all Faith is? Is Faith without works not dead? (James 2:17) If someone were to go through his life proclaiming to be a Christian, but then lived his life and acted conversely to that statement, he wouldn’t be the best witness. His Faith wouldn’t be played out in his life and therefore the people around him wouldn’t see it.

Christians are called to live their faith out, to show the world what the most important thing in their life is. Ideologically, Christians’ “Ultimate Concern,” in the words of Paul Tillich in the words of James Fowler, should be God. However, as Fowler states, love, sex, work, power, and other ego boosting things tend to get in the way of the Unified Life that Christians should be living.

But how does someone’s living a Divided Life, divided between God and man’s greed and worldly desires, affect other people? A church camp counselor lives a good, godly life all summer long, impacts hundreds of children in the best of ways, and changes lives. That life’s a godly life, that person’s life can’t possibly be divided. After those 12 weeks of camp, that counselor becomes a “normal person” again. But can someone like that counselor ever really be a “normal person” again? In the fullest sense of today’s stereotypical college goer, that counselor can never return to “normal.” The “normal,” “average” person, doesn’t have hundreds of 5-17 year olds that look up to them and think that they are the epitome of everything godly and right.

But, a camp counselor can still live that divided life. At camp, they are surely the epitome of everything godly and right, but when they leave, when that “Mountain Top Experience” is over, they do become normal people again. While ideally, counselors, and all Christian people, for that matter, would keep setting a good example and keep showing their faith by what they do when they reach the “base” of that “mountain,” ideally is usually far from the reality. So these hypothetical counselors continue to live their divided lives, one person in the summer, or when they’re around their former campers, and another person everywhere else. Who does it affect? Ask the hypothetical camper that went to that party and saw their hypothetical counselor drunk as anything.

Living the “Undivided Life” that Palmer speaks of would suggest that those Christians who are concerned mainly with themselves and the things they have, may want to reflect upon the story of the Rich Young Ruler in Luke 18:18-23. This text deals with a young man, virtuous though he was, who was too much obsessed with his possessions to give them up and wholly follow Jesus. Had this ruler been more willing to give up the things he possessed and cherished, his life would have been possibly undivided.

Similar to Luke 18:18-23, Matthew 8:18-23 is about leaving worldly possessions behind and following God. There seems to be a pattern of people wanting to live undivided lives, but the world, their world, keeps holding them back. People that want that power, that love, that prestige, appear daunted by the idea of giving everything they’ve worked for up. Faith these days is stifled by the world and human greed. If Christians were to live with an attitude more like “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me,” then perhaps there would be less polarization in their lives. (Galatians 2:20)

Perhaps the people of God would remember that they are supposed to be just that, the people of God. What would happen if Christians lived like Christ was in them? What would the world be like if people didn’t keep God just in the church building, if people didn’t just take God to the work place or in the home? What would it be like if Christians let God live and work through every thing they did and everywhere they were? This world would be a better world, a more undivided world if people just lived their faith, if they didn’t let their faith die by not letting it out to breath every once and a while.

Dear Butterfly,

Dear Butterfly,
Your wings just flapped.
Did ya notice?
Did ya noticed the Hurricane you started in my heart?

Dear Butterfly,
Could you feel your effects?
Did ya notice?
Did ya notice when I got sucked in to your swirlin Vortex?

Dear Butterfly,
You're in a different Hemisphere.
But did ya notice?
Notice what ya do over there comes on over here?

Something really hit me tonight. The people in my life right now, those that i love and care about more than anything in the world, might not be in my life like they are if ONE decision in someones life had been different. Not even necessarily OUR lives. Just someones. What if somewhere along the way, ONE person, say the guy who founded my Lutheran Camp, say he decided to make the camp go all through highschool and not stop at going into 7th grade. My life would be SO much different. I cant even think what my world would look like right now. Its impossible to imagine. Absolutely impossible. And to think that this "choose your own adventure book" life of mine has met up with the "books" of the people i love in this way is simply unfathomable. I just cant believe ive gotten so lucky. But its scary the power we have over our own lives and other peoples lives and how it affects EVERYONES future. I just... I cant fully understand.

PRIDE

I made a discovery about myself today. The thing I seek almost more than any other thing, the thing that I Strive for, Work for, Yearn for, its not Approval, or Acceptance, or to "Fit In." Its not a Simple Task. Its not Changing This or That about myself to make other people Like me. My Goal, it seems, is to make people PROUD of me. I could name off person after person that I would want nothing more from them but for them to be PROUD of me. I want to look into their Eyes and KNOW and FEEL that they are PROUD of me, that they know that I Am Something and that i have Done Something worthy of them.

And the need to make them LOVE me. I know they do. I KNOW it. But I often reject that fact and do anything that I can to Make them Want to Love me more. So Much More. I Want them to Love me as Much as I LOVE them.

These are the things that make me Sick at night. That I lie awake thinking about. These are part of the reason I Write Letters like I do. I want them to Know that I LOVE them and that I SEEK their PRIDE in me, though I may not directly say it. I want them to put This or That Page up on their Cork board.

I want them to be PROUD of me. LOVE me. That's it.

Im slightly drained. And a tad bit lost. This past month and a few weeks has been all over the place. My emotions have been dragged all over; from the highest point in west Tennessee, to the hoods of Memphis, its been quite the summer. From counseling the coolest two cabins of girls and making new best friends and painting and signing guitars and sleepovers and high ropes everyday for a week and lazy river swimming and laughing and inside jokeing and loving and peacing and friendsing and "just wanting to be a sheep"ing and being "hi-def", to break ups and late night crying phone calls that break your heart and finding out who your friends are and coconut rum and getting plastered (not me) and reading Frankenstein and crying for a whole chapter and missing friends and leaving camp and going to your last seniorhigh and having your camera break on the first day and having to say good bye too many times and not knowing exactly what the future holds anymore. Ah summer

A week of
-Pouring Kool-aid
-Singing with Sarah and Pat
-Playing guitar with the same
-Being Domino
-Carrying around a sword named Excalibur
-Being the Backpack lady
-Camp Food
-Cabin 11
-Painting Winston
-Growing
-Quite Coyotes
-Twinkie, Adidas, Splenda, Puddin', Pancake, Peanut, Ziggy, Woody, Rusty, Snooze (AKA: Bandanna), Nibs, Diva, Flash, Tattoo, Padre, Ace
-Seven Fifth grade girls
-70 Campers
-Pants-ing
-Bra stealers
(-I forgot Sunshine)
-"Padre's got an other one, other one, other one. Padre's got an other one. He does them all the time."
-Food Poker
-No phone
-Gazebos on the lake
-Cabin pictures
-Brooms named Woody
-Girls SLEEPING with brooms named Woody
-Girls fighting over brooms named Woody at the dance
-Being afraid of GIANT CRICKETS
-Hillside
-Accordion
-Campfires
-Trying to make a bonfire in the craft pavilion and accidentally spitting fire at children
-Not settling for "Spiritual Twinkies" when we can have a "Spiritual Square Meal"
-Crying
-Rock bands
-Trash can drums
-Green, Purple, Orange, Yellow, Blue
-Birdhouses
-Cleaning paintbrushes
-2:30 AM FOURSQUARE
-Sittin' on swings
-Responsibility
-Folk and Choral music-filled car rides
-Being on a boat
-COUNSELOR SWIM
-Games like Eagles Nest
-Head counting
-Mental breakdowns in the nurses cabin with Puddin', toothbrushes and Dr. Pepper
-Kidney Beans


(more, probably. just had to get that much out there. also, two more camps and a Nashville trip to come.)

each fork represents six children under the age of five that have died today. of hunger.

I feel the need to share this

There is no such thing as Luther's Creed.

I read through the confirmation kid's final exams today. I laughed out loud. These children will be with me next year; they WILL NOT start going to Sunday school with the Sr. high until they KNOW ENOUGH to be in Sr. high Sunday school. I will prepare these children for what they will face in high school. And they listen to me. They know MY rules already.

NO:
Altercations (fighting)
Fornication (sex before marriage)
Alterations (drugs)
or Fermentation (alcohol)

And soon they will know more than they ever thought possible about being Lutheran. And they WILL KNOW what VICARIOUS ATONEMENT IS. Hot mutton! About two of them got that. Disgusting.

I find it simply incredble. How is it possible that things can blend so well? Smoothies, slushies, those classic pairs like peanut butter and jelly amd salt and pepper. Clouds and sky, the colors of a sun set or sun rise. More than that. How is it that beings as flawed, as messed up as humans like you and me can make such beautiful music? How is it that we are worthy to be able to listen whenever we want to the sounds of a guitar or a sax or a harp or the voices of a chorus? Surely we havent done anything. As i sit in chapel, especially fridays which are singing chapels, i wonder to myself why im so blessed as to go to a school like i do where practically everyone was born singing perfect harmony. Im not sure all church of Christ people really experience singing like somebody raised Lutheran does. I truely appreciate the fact that im not the only alto in a congration of 200.

Sometimes i think i dont agree with the things i think.

Just A Day (name pun. ha)

The feel of summer was palpable. When I woke up I could smell it in the air, feel it all around me. All my senses struggled to keep me in bed or drag me outside to lie in the grass; they wanted me to do anything but go to school. My alarm didn't quite agree with my senses plans. My iHome blared its second round of Relient K while I slothfully rolled out of bed, smashed the off button, and began my day. I pulled up to the school with few minutes to save before seven o'clock rolled around and my bible class began. The teacher passed out the test of the day and I nonchalantly passed it back to him. Due to illness I had missed the Thursday and Friday before the Monday test and was unprepared to say the least. Seated in my back, right corner desk, I took up my copy of The Road from Coorain and strove to finish the seventh and eighth chapters in order to prepare myself for the impending quiz. Classmates began to finish their tests and trickle out of the room; I followed when the timing seemed right. I paid little attention to those I passed in the halls; they're just other teenagers doing the same things I was. Nothing special. I traveled absentmindedly down a few more halls and up a flight of stairs before reaching Room 200, the classroom of my former Algebra I teacher, and now the place of congregation for my friends and I. Two of my clique, crew, gang, posse were already there waiting for me. The seasoned teacher took pity on the souls of my sick friend and my recovering self and threw us tiny fruit snack packets. "You need your Vitamin C," he said. I looked at the package. "Full of Vitamins A and E!" I looked at him. Joker. As the bells sounded, i trudged to my first period, Geometry. Geometry, though always fast in passing and little fuss, had, since the beginning of the year, been the class I enjoyed the least. I felt no challenge, and when I was confronted with a challenge, I was not motivated near enough to do anything about it. My classmates made it more than endurable. The track star and prized soprano in front of me, the basketball and softball playing goof, the cheerleader, another softball player, and the occasional football manager, track whiz, and artist to my right got me daily through the fifty minutes. We moved on to our second periods. Shakespeare greeted me as we opened the glorious Hamlet.


Still not done.

Round One

So i learned some things in Chicago.

I love singing,
a cappella,
my friends,
pillow fights,
being locked in bathrooms,
Dunkin' Doughnuts,
bus rides,
ipods,
iphones,
Ferris wheels,
those giant spinny swing things,
pictures,
Rachel,
Melora,
Melanie,
Bonnie,
Catchphrase,
sandwiches,
Jesus,
dancin,
Anne,
Katie K,
Candace,
walkin,
bus tours,
boat tours,
not the cold,
Chicago,
and many other things.

I learned that if we wanted to, we could have made it on Oprah. Chicago Round One taught me many things. I even gained a new friend or two. So good job Chicago.

The Time We Spent.

Man I hate funerals.

My hormonial teenage girl body doesn't take to kindly to all that, see what I'm speakin'? There's only a few good things about funerals: Family, Family, and Family. But then they go back home and you go back home and then your iPod's battery starts runnin' low and you can't find your book that you brought and you always look a mess because you've been cryin' because well, you're a hormonial teenage girl and you phone's always in and out of service and most of your friends are in class anyway and your brother's always ont he computer and so you have to go to the one out in he lobby and so you're not lonely you take your iPod so and that wears the battery down even more and then a song like Napoleon Says by Phoenix comes on and you're all tryin' not to sing and tryin' not to look a fool rockin' out to it, because it is, after all, such a happenin' song. But there's still things to look forward to. Tonight, for insance, my brother and i are trying to persude my parents to take us to The Manhattan. Allow me to tell you the wonders of The Manhattan. When my grandparents had their 50th rememberance of being married, basically the entire family went and ate there. But that, however, is not the special thing about The Manhattan. The special thing abou The Manhattan is their GOBLETS. Big, ol' GOBLETS. When we go there tonight, I shall take pictures. They also used to have these Gaint rocking horses. Sadly though, they are now in one of the shop windows around town square waiting to get new cloth on them, or something of that sort. But anyway. There's a few pros and cons. Or somethin' like that.

65 Miles to St. Louis.

Runnin' down the Road tryin'a loosen my load I got seven...

So at around 65 miles to St. Louis I finished the Road. Finally. Ironic. I was on the road myself. And they both end in death and unhappiness! Well, by that I mean to say that I'm on my way to my Grandpa's funeral. Mmhm. Take It Easy, Don't Let the Sound of Your Own Wheels Make You Crazy. So 10 hours flew by yesterday. Fastest trip to Iowa I've ever taken. I attribute that to the MEMPHIS FLIPPIN' TIGERS! Speaking of he Tigers, my ipod is losing battery fast. and i didn't, for some crazy reason, bring a charger. Bad idea. 5 day trips and dead ipods are NOT compatible. Speaking of not compatible, Me and My Family. I like to go to sleep at around 12:30 and wake up at around 8. I just don't know what else to do with myslef. I'm used to being completely functional by 8. they however, don't care to be awake if they don't have to. Especially my brother who i happen to be sharing a room with. I have to brush my teeth... I AM AWAKE FOR THE FIRST TIME. So I figure that if the rest of my family isn't.. isn't? or aren't? my family isn't. but there are 3 of them. so would it be aren't? um. so if those guys aren't ready by the time I'm done with this I hav every intention of reading in Winter. The story of a German family from the las day of 1899 to some day in 1945. Mel, do you understand how long Clive Wearing is? Quite long. Though not as long as this 571 page Pre to Post World War One to Pre to Post World War Two. He Told Me a Heart Can't Smile If It's Filled With Tears. I feel as if i am taking over this Super 8 Lobby Computer. I feel as though I should get off of it so that other people may enjoy it. But there is no one else, really. No one in Iowa is awake enough at 9:33 in the morning to need the Super 8 Lobby Computer. Save me. Little ol' computer usin' me. Speakin' of me. I pretty much got attacked by the lady that workedthe desk at the First Rest Stop in MO. My Mother and I walked in and BAM that lady was in attack mode. "WHAT STATE YOU LADYS FROM?" "Tennessee." "HOW MANY OF YOU ARE THERE?" I shouted "Four" back and held up my hand to show her. "I ONLY SEE TWO" "The others are already in here," I told her. "WELL OKAY" Now I understand that it is her job to log who comes in and where from, but I'm sure that there's a better way to do that. Like, for instance, when people are NOT on thier way to the bathroom. Why not catch them on their way out, Ma'am? Wouldn't that make more sense? I don't think people really want to talk to you about how many of them there are and where they're from if they've been driving for a while and need to use the facalities, for that is why they're there, not to give you a log of visitors, though I am sure they would have no problem with that later. You Make It Hard To Smile Because You Make It Hard To Breath.

Socialvibe. yeeah

Sprite.

im a Dr. Pepper junkie. theres NOTHING i would rather drink. but whats this? i havent had the slightest sip, sniff, or swallow of that dearest drink in three and a half weeks, i believe. yes. that long. but why, you may ask, would one give up something that they love that much cold turkey, out of the blue, seemingly for no reason? well i couldnt tell you. joke. i can. i suppose you could say that im gearing up for this fast im doing at the end of the month (which you should sponsor, aka give money to, me for.) but that wouldnt be completely correct. actually, its something ive done every year since i got addicted to Dr. Pepper, and i use the term addicted lightly, of course. but for 40 days, and 40 nights, i dont drink it. back in the day when my will power was not all that it is now, i would break my fast of sorts on sundays and drink about as much Dr. Pepper as i could. but thats not me now. and might i mention that ive pretty much given up ALL caffeine, save the occasional coffee? well not to go on and on about me. but anyway. the point is, i dont even know why i do it anymore. i dont really get alot out of it. im just not drinking. its not like im out in the desert, not eating, being straight up tempted by Satan or anything. but i guess that is why i do it. because, i suppose, i never will be out in the Negev that long, and Satan will never appear in bodily form and tell me to turn rocks into bread and things of that sort. so i guess thats why i do it. so ill just sit here, sippin' my Sprite, chillin'

Wall-E

So I got my mom the Disney-Pixar movie Wall-E for Christmas. Wonderful movie. But has anyone thought about what the makers may have been trying to say through it? Because when I watch it, I get this vibe that they were trying to say something along the lines of "Hey, lazy, fat, and non-lazy, fat, Americans, look whats gonna happen in 102 years. Your fat and lazy and wastefulness is going to leave us suffocating in our own smog and dust if you're not careful."

So what's to take from this cute, robot love story? Don't be silly. Don't be wasteful. Love the earth before we're all pushed out into space by some head "Buy 'N Large," or Wal*Mart, as the case may be, president. Not that living in space would be such a bad thing, but I personally don't think that if God intended us to live in space at all, it wouldn't be because the Earth is uninhabitable. I did, after all, spend two of the better weeks of my summer learning about the fact that God does want us to "Handle with Care" the planet He has so graciously given us.

So maybe it's just me, and maybe I'm just reading into things too deeply, but I think that we could all learn a thing or two from the robot that was left behind. You break, you buy it, you spill it, you clean it up, you make a mess, and you have to take care of it. So why waste time sitting around waiting for it to get bad enough that we have to send the robots in? Go ahead and clean some things up, make use of your amazing ability to recycle, sing the R-E-C-Y-C-L-E song loud and proud so all can hear, because, let's face it, best song ever.

somethings are better left posted on the enternet.

Wrote this as an essay for english. category essay, wasnt it? have fun.

The Great and the Not-So-Much
Ah, the glories of summer. Whether spent by the water soaking up the cancer, or inside building model planes, everyone has some marvelous memory of some summer or another. While some are busy mowing lawns, others may enjoy a leisurely walk in the park. While some parents let their children sleep away the summer, others drive their offspring to camp, a nice, week-long camp. My parents are guilty of shipping me off for at least one seven-day period each summer, longer if I’m lucky.
I’ve had some of my best times at camp, made some of my best friends there. I’ve met some of the biggest influences of my life in those short, fleeting moments of summer spent by some lake’s shore. Of these people a particular group sticks out in my mind, the people that the camp staff places in cabins and in lives who are there to facilitate spiritual growth and help their campers have a good time. Counselors. The way I see it, there’s two kinds of counselors: the Great and the Not-So-Much.

The Great. The greatest counselors I’ve had the privilege of being counseled by are of quite the special breed. Not everyone was born to be great, but those who were, truly were. Great counselors do many things. Not only do these special mentors help you learn while you are at camp, but they continue to be exceptional influences beyond the days of summer. Once, as I prepared to become a counselor myself, I was made to sit down and write a list of things great, good, and lesser counselors do. The list of greats went something like: forgive you, correct your grammar, tell you to wash your hands, save energy by going to the bathroom in the dark, teach you not to curse, inform you that bringing pocket knives to camp is bad, make sure you don’t text message while you are at camp, pun food after Barak Obama with you, giggle, come to the open mic nights you perform at, help you learn about Jesus, don’t lose you, help you learn German words, don’t hate you for being terrible at things like Tetris, and the like. But on a more serious note, the things great counselors do is more than things like giggling and punning. Great counselors are always there for their campers. Great counselors let their campers know that no matter what the issue, that camper will always find comfort and at least half way decent advice in their counselor.

The Not-so-much. The Not-So-Much counselors are the kind of counselors that, while they did their job and helped their campers have a super time at camp, don’t make any special effort to try to keep in touch after the summer months. The biggest thing that separates the Great from the Not-So-Much is simply the way the camper is left feeling after camp, how the counselor keeps in touch. Who doesn’t like getting a text message from a former counselor asking how something that was talked about over the summer is going? One thing Not-So-Much counselors sometimes do is play favorites. No camper likes to feel any less important than any other. Also, campers do what they see and what they’re told about. If a counselor talks about some not so smart thing that they did or they do, the camper might want to try it too. One rule most counselors live by is “Don’t do anything you wouldn’t want five other kids doing.” Not-So-Much counselors sometimes forget that. But there are good things to be said for the Not-So-Much counselors; they don’t love their campers any less than the Great do.

In the end, counselors are counselors no matter what, some just so happen to be great. They all help us learn, some just don’t stop at the cabin door.

Because today...

im going away. on a fun, fun adventure. to Natalie's hometown. i love Natalie's hometown. not because its Natalie's hometown, but because it's a college town. not just any college town, mind you, but the college town that holds one of my favorite colleges. Harding University. now, while i myself have no intentions of attending HU, i have many a friend that are already there. i like these particular friends quite a bit, so im going. again. i do believe this is the fifth time this year, and im thankful, because they have ever so comfortable floors. and big, fat, orange squirrels. not kidding. in the least. theyre squirrels could eat you. and they have electric trees, i should know, ive watched a movie under one of them before. but the moral of the story is, im going there in about an hour or so and im ever so excited and i think that everyone should know that. but im looking forward to being there and learning things from my lovely college friends. oh the joys of being a high school kid with all your friends spread all over.

ha

life is a grim, losing battle.
--Jason Middlekauff.

ah, life on a stage

if it weren't for the majesty of the stage, that element that it contains that no other things can, if it weren't for that, then my life simply would not be the same. if it weren't for my being lead there, being drawn there by some ridiculous force greater than myself, i wouldn't know those people that i love the most. theatre people are of a special breed. it takes a great artist to portray someone on the stage, to be someone they simply are not, while all the while maintaining them self in the mist of it all. what would i be without the people ive met in the darkness behind those curtains? most likely id be a bunch of nothing, really. there's that boy ive met that i'll always love, there are those girls i look up to, there are the people i go to for advice, there are the people that i eat lunch with, hang out with on the weekends, the ones i laugh at... i mean... with. the kids that i go to the cast parties with and chew gum and listen to rap and jump out of cars with... people that i love are of a special breed. a breed that comes from the pitch black, silent backstage, the crow's nest, the props room, stage.