Wonder.

What is wonder?

How does one wonder?
What is wonderful?
And what is wonderful?

      I love wondering, I think mostly because it never ends. When wondering, you are wandering a path in your head with no intended destination. In fact, the path is so wide, so long, and so high off the ground that you can never explore the entire thing. It's not even a place we should be able to get to! The beauty of the wonder-filled journey is that it cannot have a finishing point and very often also lacks a starting point. How do you really begin to wonder? The entire point of wondering is thinking about something that is too great to grasp - too great to even begin to consider how much we cannot know about it!
      Unfortunately, the wondering of this world has become focused on things and experiences to the point that 'wonderful' no longer has any significant meaning. We attempt to measure wonder with reason and then label objects according to their wonderfulness. Instead, we should recognize these things as good, as blessings for which we can be thankful. But our wondering should be reserved for those things that are truly wonderful.

Wonder. And let your mind wander.

Psalm

You,
  Whose Eyes glow
      as flames and embers everlasting,
  Whose face shines continually
      with the smile of Your precious favor,
  Only You are worthy
      of holy worship and proclamation,
So I will dance before my God;
  I will live and play in Your brilliance
      and dwell in Your delight.

Who am I,
  that you see me?
Who am I,
  that you know who I am?
And you've made me in your likeness!

Times are Changing

A week and a half, that's it. Then this chapter of my life is over. So much change in so little time: location, living situation, friends, schedules, activities... pretty much my whole life.

My mind swims from feelings of sadness to those of intense excitement, between the regret of treasures lost and anticipation of adventures waiting to be found. How does one even schedule time now? Or choose between friends to see? For that matter, which friendships will actually withstand these changes? Will I find friends as close as those I have now? What new opportunities will I find? And how will I deal with those lost?

So many questions, so many unanswerable variables... and yet, somehow I know it's going to be fantastic. These worries are already seeming to pass as I ask God for peace, and I know that He holds me and protects me as His own son. You tell me... what greater security can I ask for?!

Some thoughts on me...

Do I procrastinate?
Yes, I do. Just like every other senior in high school, I proudly procrastinate. Ok, maybe not so much PROUDLY, but you get the idea.

Do I hang my shirts inside out if that is how they came out of the dryer?
Also yes. Why? For the simple reason that it is a very practical form of procrastination...

Do I text?
Yes. And for the life of me I cannot understand why when I start texting everyone else decides that calling is the better option... When it costs me to text, people always text me, but now that it doesn't cost they would rather call. I guess it's not such a bad thing, talking and all. Probably an improvement actually!

Do I like coffee?
If you don't know that answer to this question, we should probably hang out sometime. Text me.

What kind of music do I like?
Anything... My favorite songs exist in every genre. If you need an introduction to classical music, check out Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto in D major. I'm going to learn that someday, then I'll play it for you!

Favorite food?
The kind that you eat, as long as it's not carrots or raw broccoli or plain celery or cauliflower and it doesn't taste or smell funny... I'll eat most things.

Why haven't I written for a long time?
Truthfully, I have no real reason. I have had inspiration - plenty of it! - but I have not needed the medium of writing to express myself. It was just on the backburner... This post was so much fun that I'm sure I will resume at least one post every week, especially now that summer has come full circle again and I have almost nothing to do. Let me know if you enjoy my writing though, that will spur me on to write like nothing else! I'm actully not really sure that anyone will read this because it's been so long in coming...

Productivity

On a completely different note than my last blog post on scented dishwasher soap, this post is on on my recent productivity high: the feeling of success after a long and busy, yet still restful, Sunday...


Today, I got up early to attend worship practice. Practice went quite well - the Bible study that followed was even better. Worship was a little rough, seeing as the bass amp went out during the first song, which threw all the band members for a loop. Even so, the makeshift acoustic song (without bass, drums drown out everything else, but without either of those, electric guitar sounds out of place...) at the end of service was especially powerful. I love to see how God works through spontaneous, genuine worship. After that service, I cheerfully volunteered at another church in the café for several hours. When I got home, I burned a worship CD for a good friend; while at his house to drop it off, I helped him with his twitter background picture. I then returned home to wash my car and shower for the evening church service that I attend. I soon proceeded to pick up another good friend and drive to said service. Not only was I attentive during service, but I also managed to keep my other friend alert through various methods such as elbow jabs, light punches, and the occasional sip of burnt, decaf (A.K.A: gross and unproductive) coffee. After this successful venture, I returned home once more to resume work on my scholarship application essay while listening to music.. and blogging.


How do I feel after such a successful day? Well, ready to take on the week of course! Tomorrow is Monday, but somehow my morale is outstanding. What is the point of this post? Just to point out (Get it, point?... :P) that I would like every Sunday to be as productive and full of peace as today was (terrible writing, that last sentence, but frankly, I couldn't care less!). 

Curious things

In this day and age, almost anything will sell. People with the craziest, most pointless ideas make the most money. Maybe I could make some money if I were to go against my logical instincts and create a "product" that actually has no "productivity" (something that should really be taken into account before calling any random invention a "product")...

Take scented dishwasher soap for example. How is anyone going to smell the soap that is rinsed off of the dishes and down the drain before the dishwasher is opened? Even if the soap really did left an aromatic residue, why would anyone smell their dishes? For that matter, why would one go about eating food off a plate that tastes like soap? Generally, I do not care for enchiladas with a hint of lavender or tropical burst flavored spaghetti, but that may just be me. No matter how beautifully the soap is scented, it has no real functionality.

Don't even get me started on silly bandz...

Smile! :D

I have not smiled very much today.
If you know me at all, you know that this is an extremely abnormal occurrence. The worst part is that I really have no idea why. Oh sure. I can make the usual speculations:

...I'm really focused today. I'm just tired. I had a little bit of possibly disappointing news. I'm hungry. I'm thirsty. I have a headache. I'm just stressed...

But truly, I can't justify any of these excuses. All I know is that if I think about smiling, I realize that I'm not.

I know that this needs to change. I want it to change. I think I'll put on some worship music as I drive to rehearsal. Maybe I'll talk to some friends, or even treat myself to a little something sweet. Who knows... :)

Disappointment

Disappointment is an interesting feeling.

One moment it seems as though your day couldn't get any better... and then it doesn't. It gets worse.

Imagine, you have a hope that has taken time and effort to develop, and then one phone call later... well, it's up and disappeared on you. Not a single trace left. Nada. Zip.

It's numbing at first. I thought surely they would call back and say it was a mistake. I was so sure that my efforts would amount to something, that I would somehow be able to help myself all on my own.

Who do I blame, if anyone? With so much expectation for the success of my own efforts, the only person I can fairly blame is myself. But then, the numbness wears off, and I realize that I can't withstand any more of my own accusations. I'd break down before they got very far.
The blame game was over before it began.

After the numbness came question after question... after question. So many kept coming that I could barely think, let alone write the essay that was due the next day! How?... Why?... Can I?... Could it really?... And after every possibility was exhausted, they began all over again.

Between my wearying dismissal of questions and deliberate evasion of blame, there was no way I could endure the questions, the constant suggestions, that would surely follow my admission of failure and my selfish want of pity... In short, I did not want to talk about it. With anybody.

Contrary to what it seems, this is not a cry for pity. It is only meant as a way for me to organize my feelings and share how God has grown and upheld me. Once more, my pride got the better of me, and I was humbled. I was taught not to rely on my own ability to provide, but on God's promises for provision and calling. How can I bring the Kingdom to Earth if I allow my own abilities and confidence to supersede my faith in God?

Because of this experience, I am no longer distraught at the mention of my own failure. It merely serves as an awesome reminder for humility and an opportunity in which God can work!

Symphony of Dreams

I sat alone as the concertmaster struck the familiar note. The resonance that followed consumed the entire empty room, and the utter perfection in the tone took me by surprise. I gladly embraced the rich sound of the tuning symphony. Even this was music to my ears-- but what purpose was there in tuning such perfect unity of pitch? And what was that peculiar absence of that common courtesy which should accompany this man's bow? These minor queries were very soon discarded, and then forgotten completely as the simple harmonies separated. They multiplied beyond comprehension, cascading into an illustrious, soaring melody! It was as if I had always known-- but nevermind that. Uplifting this glorious tune was an unmatched arrangement of simple, elegant chords firing off between sections. With the utmost brilliance, the brass fanfare launched the masterpiece into the stunning free fall, the absolute silence, just before-- and what WAS that repulsive noise? It had ruined my perfect stillness, completely foreign to that stage, yet eerily familiar and impossibly more tangible...

My vision flickers in the vaguely sunlit room. I sit alone: my only comfort afforded by the disconcerting demand emanating from my most alarming possession.

Returning Home

     There is something refreshing about returning home after an absence of any length. The initial sensation of pure familiarity slips stealthily into the realm of my conscious thought. My mood undergoes a rapid change from unhappy exhaustion to blissful wonderment at the simplicity of recognizable surroundings. Suddenly, my mind is no longer troubled by the constant input of new information.
     Funny aspects of everyday life can be greatly appreciated after returning home, such as the familiar width and steepness of stairs or even the sound of the washing machine in my own house. I am amazed at how such a subtle change differentiates between a house and a home and how these subtleties vary from person to person. One particularly amusing variance, at least in my mind, is the ease of achieving a "normal" temperature from the faucet in the shower. Silly details such as this can make a slight but very noticeable distinction between that which is tolerable and that which is truly comfortable.
     As you go about your day, think of several characteristics of your home and family that set them apart from other places and persons. Rather than ignoring the features that distinguish you from others, be thankful for the idiosyncrasies that shape your personality every day.

Bored? Me too...

     Boredom. A single, solitary word. Seven ordinary letters. This word seems simple, yet its two familiar syllables manage to capture a most convoluted paradox. Although the Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines boredom as "the state of being weary or restless through lack of interest," the feelings and experiences actually associated with boredom are much more complex than this definition would suggest. The following covers my thoughts on the conceptual reality of boredom
     Boredom cannot be defined as a lack of interest because that merely induces rest and laziness. By definition, the word "restless" indicates a person must have an interest in something. This means that boredom originates from the consciously subconscious realization that nothing available can satisfy one's interests. When a person acknowledges boredom, he/she is subconsciously accepting indeterminable interests.
     I speculate that the weariness attributed to boredom actually comes from a restless mind. As boredom progresses, your mind constantly searches for something interesting, but to no avail. In an effort to escape this wearying task, your mind attempts to distract itself and grasps the nearest available activity, such as watching a movie or listening to music. These activities usually involve no strain on the brain, and these minor distractions often cause the person to be distracted, and then restless, once again.
     Thus, the entire concept of boredom involves restlessness, weariness, and distractedness in endless, abrasive cycles. An unsatisfied mind is of the worst sort, and the only cure I have found is a good, long nap.