The Fall of Summer

     The dark gravel turns and crunches loudly, skidding under my feet and disturbing the airy silence of the afternoon. The sun, now white and somber, gently tickles the back of my neck and jawline from behind its glaring veil, and the familiar warmth dissipates and glides away on the fleeting winds of the seasons. The early afternoon clouds are pulled back like wrinkled bedsheets, exposing only a fraction of the glaring expanse to my contemplating eye. Suddenly, it is quiet once again. My footsteps curve to fit the familiar firmness of concrete just as I round the corner. I leave behind the red brick wall on my right, now evidenced only by the ephemeral image of grid lines imprinted in my peripheral vision. Once more, the near-frigid comfort afforded by the cloud-glazed sun reaches out in a feeble attempt to challenge the chilling gusts. Although the wintry weather remains still tangible, the sun's hard-pressed efforts manage to hold the chill to a slight, breathy sensation.
     Finally, my wistful gaze drifts back to those objects, both natural and contrived, that occupy my immediate vicinity. The colorful mosaic of houses before me drapes itself across the foothills of the Rockies, blending with the reds and yellows of autumn and eventually disappearing altogether as towering peaks ascend over the conquered plains. On my right, a gray and weather-battered fence crawls pitifully by without a trace of the rich life it once possessed, its stark deadness hidden only by the occasional young tree almost as bare as the stained fence boards themselves. A weed-cluttered lot across the paved street lingers on my left, displaying the most unhealthy shades of green and dirt brown. Here, erosion has worn away deep gouges and exposed swaths of bone-dry grit that sweep up in an eye-searing haze with the smallest touch of wind. Here also, the cold sunlight only reaffirms the lifelessness that completely surrounds me. Far ahead and above, the milky clouds flow from purest white to the swirling, opaque gray that is darker than the most foreboding black. Murky and chilling, this ominous mass completely engulfs the highest mountains and nearly obscures a frightening majority of the sky. A sensation of utter dread sinks within me and seems to settle in my feet. I can hardly manage to lift my feet as my optimism quickly succumbs the leaden oppression of the change of seasons.
     Even something as constant as the cyclical change from summer to winter and back again brings out the utter discontent in my life. While the warm weather of summer prevails, I crave the cool refreshment brought on by the change of seasons, but as the coming of fall - and then winter - grants me this wish, my fickle desires reverse themselves, rendering me a cyclical pessimist. Gratitude plays a huge role in how we, as human beings, relate to others and God, but we constantly convince ourselves that we deserve better or that we have not been blessed with enough. In reality, God seeks to bless us with the joy that comes through a healthy relationship with him and the realization that He has provided the beautiful environment in which we live. This revelation will only become evident if we are truly thankful for every circumstance we are presented with. When circumstances seem like they are quickly falling from summer to winter, giving thanks is the only way to start looking up, even if you are staring at a winter storm.

Intimacy with God

The following is an essay I wrote for a college application, and I decided to share it with you all because it contains ideas and beliefs that are extremely important to my walk with God.

     I never make plans for Sunday morning. In my family, Sunday morning is simply understood as a time set apart for church. Unfortunately, when I was younger, I never questioned or even considered the actual reason for attending church. It served merely as a routine task to be performed every Sunday with no exceptions allowed. Gradually, I began to realize that church is more than just a tradition, a chore, or an event; attending church is a way to show reverence to God by setting time aside for Him outside of my own schedule. I also began to understand that my interaction with God should consist of more than prayer before meals, family devotions, and outward respectfulness toward others. For the first time, I grasped the truly unconditional nature of God’s incredible love. My realization of this love brought about another realization: that God constantly seeks for an intimate and personal relationship with me.

     As I grasped the idea of my personal relationship with God, worship took on a new meaning. Instead of consisting of words sung to a catchy tune, worship became the manner in which I praise and thank God for the amazing forgiveness, love, and grace that He showed for me on the cross. God also opened up an entirely new expression of worship for me involving my talent on the violin. My relationship with God has grown immensely since I began to use this talent in a worship team setting because of the spiritual connection that worship provides. Whether in the form of songs of praise, study of the Bible, or time and talents devoted to Him, I know that offering my body as “a living sacrifice” in worship is essential to intimacy with God (Romans12:1).

     Along with the closeness that worship provides comes the need for communication, and prayer is an irreplaceable aspect of my relationship with God. As a Christ follower, I am “overflowing with thankfulness” and am promised “inexpressible and glorious joy,” and thanksgiving plays a vital role in the presence of God’s joy and contentment in my life (Colossians 2:7, I Peter 1:8). The joy of Christ in me lets me love others, even those I disagree with, because of the grace provided by attentive prayer between God and me. Also, prayer lets me express my gratitude to God for His provisions in my life such as a loving family, friends, a home, and every one of his countless other blessings (Psalms 68:19). According to Paul, thankful prayer is a key component in intercession as well; he instructs Christians to “present [their] requests to God” “with thanksgiving” (Philippians 4:6). Evidence for the intimacy that intercession provides is found in another of Paul’s letters; he writes the Romans that “the Spirit himself intercedes for [them]” when “[they] do not know what… to pray for” (Romans 8:26). Prayer provides a constant source of closeness with God, for God is so intimate with Christians when they pray that He understands and repeats their prayers.

     I have noticed that nurturing a steadfast and deep relationship with my Creator gives me the joy and strength to live my life with purity, love, service, generosity, and wisdom. Without an attitude of worship or the discipline of prayer, I would not accomplish the intimacy that I share with God on a regular basis. Because of this relationship with the Almighty God, my Bible study has become infused with revelations about Scripture and moments where the Holy Spirit speaks to me. I have grown in my personal relationship with God through prayer and worship, and I believe that my continued relationship will bring me to a greater understanding of God’s will and give me the opportunity to influence more and more people for Christ. 

First post...

Well, I've jumped on the bandwagon that almost everyone seems to ride, nowadays. But I have almost no idea where I want this blog to go. Mostly, I guess, it's a place to put my runaway thoughts or ambiguous philosophies on life, or society, or probably something much less important. It's a refuge for dangerously over-analyzed ideas, ones that have been ricocheting inside my head for far too long. Or possibly a way to keep track of some scriptural insight that would otherwise hide away and fade gradually into the selfish realm of the forgotten, no longer accomplishing anything. Really, your guess is as good as mine until I have pondered long enough to begin to consider starting to compose my next post. But this post has wandered far and wide and begs for some semblance of sanity, so I'll end this first post with an original poem, my first and only poem (which may not actually reintroduce sanity into this post, in which case this blog is most likely hopeless). I would predict that the posting of original poems will be a relatively uncommon occurrence seeing as I am rarely a motivated poet. In fact, this poem originated as a chore, an assignment of sorts, and I was simply carried away on a burst of... inspiration.

Music

Nathan Burns

Quiet, subtle, inaudibly heard

Like the rustle of the wings of a bird-

Like a snake among the grass,

Fleeting, swift, passing fast-

Like incessant pounding on the seas,

Spraying, whirling with the salty breeze-

Music follows, it surrounds;

You must listen and embrace its sound.

Fiery, intense, passionate,

It’s the expressive song of sentiments-

The crying, sobbing, that you hear

When a person has lost someone dear-

The melody brimming with happiness

Of laughing children that radiate bliss-

It lingers, longing for detection;

Expose your mind to its affections.

Inspiring awe, glorious,

Its fragrance: depth and brilliance-

It’s the language that moves and stirs,

The essence of the heart without words-

Music is broken, a cold, thoughtless thing,

Until someone thoughtfully makes it sing.

Music flows through us and all around;

With it, let your heart resound.