Late Night Ramblings Vol. XVII

Sometimes I just want to drive around for hours with only the rain and some music to keep me company, but now it's too late and I need to go to sleep.

Sometimes I'd like to just throw on my running shoes and run my heart out until I collapse, but it's too late now and I need to go to sleep.

Sometimes I want to put into words these things deep inside of me that scream for something more, but it's late and I need to go to sleep.

I guess I'll just pray and try to keep focus.

To Be Called His Own

So I was reading John 1:11 today, where John writes that Jesus "...came to that which was His own, but His own did not receive Him." His own. That's us, you know. I just think that's crazy. God is so holy, so perfect, so powerful, but He's not so high as to be unassociated with us. He calls us "His own."

That's incredible to me. That an all-powerful God would associate Himself with lowly mankind. That we belong to Him. He claims us, even proudly (Job 1:8). It's just mindboggling to think of an unfathomably infinite God desiring connection with us, but not just a shallow, impersonal connection--a deep, intimate relationship. If this weren't true, He never would have sent His Son to die for us.

We are not separated from Him. He is not too far away or above. After all, we are made in His image. How crazy is that?! Think about it: He could have made any creature He wanted. He could have created some majestic unicorn or some towering colossi, and everyone would have agreed that this creature was magnificent. But He put His imprint on us! He personalized us so specifically that He made us in His likeness. Not even the angels can claim this. More than simply putting His stamp of approval on us, like an artist signing their painting, He ingrained within us something so personal and extraordinary we'll probably never fully understand it.

Isn't this why we seek after the things of the world so passionately? It is because our souls, which remember the days before the fall, before we lost that close intimacy with our Creator, cry out for something to fill that void. But without Jesus we simply grasp hold of whatever we can find.

So when Jesus came to this world He became like us--those He calls His own--to bring a light into this blind depravity. Oh, how it must have broken His heart when His own did not receive Him. I think if you want proof of His love, consider the fact that He died in spite of this.

A Love Worth Dying For

I've been listening to Andy Orsow's "Loved by the Son". It's such a beautiful song. The chorus goes like this:

You took my soul and you breathed it to life

And I had no idea I was dead 'til that night

When you reached down your hand

And told me no lies

And I learned what it was to be loved by the Son

I just can't believe that Jesus would save me, that He chose me specifically, individually. He reached down to this pit I was in, this death that would have consumed me forever, and said, "No. I am not content with this. I will not have this."

Who am I that He would die for me?

God's love is so magnificent that it is able to encompass all mankind, yet His love responds to who I am, because He loves me personally, and He chose me.

It's more than just this blanket, general effect. "Alright guys, gather 'round. Okay, I love you all." No. He's like, "I love you, Adrian. And I love you... And I love you... more than you'll ever know. Despite the things you do, and the ways in which you break My heart, I love you. Regardless."

I am significant.

He saw it all. My darkest hours. How far I run away from Him. And He died for me with that knowledge. He said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. If only they knew... if only they knew how much I loved them, how far I'm willing to go to save them, that I would give myself in their place so that they never have to."

That's the kind of love I'm willing to lay my life down for. This love has set me in motion. I will pick up my cross and follow Jesus to the end of my days. I will never look back. I will walk until my legs can no longer carry me and I have exhausted every single heartbeat.

***

How deep the Father's love for us,

How vast beyond all measure

That He should give His only Son

To make a wretch His treasure.

"3D White" Toothpaste

I've been using this Crest "3D White" toothpaste, but I've long since been disappointed with it. I've used several whitening toothpastes in the past, but comparatively this one has given me little results. I know the whole "3D" thing is a gimmick, but I figured it would at least follow through on its whitening promise.

So I ended up using the last little bit of the toothpaste this morning (good riddance), and I'm cleaning my room later and I come across my 3D glasses. I had a good chuckle and decided it would be fun to look at my teeth in the mirror with the glasses on.

Yeah, so apparently -that's- why it's called "3D White": You need 3D glasses to see the full effect.

Long story, short, my teeth were so blazingly white when being looked at through the 3D glasses that I'm now completely and permanently blind (so the doctors tell me) and there are broken pieces of mirror scattered all across the bathroom and embedded into the walls.

David has been kind enough to help me apply for disability online (since I can't see to do it myself). I just hope this won't hurt my chances of getting hired by that valet company I applied for. I really need a job...

Delirious Thanksgiving

Thank you God for getting me through this night.
Thank you for helping me to get my theology paper done, even though I (kind of) only started writing it last night.
Thank you for answered prayer for not only reaching the minimum ten pages, but exceeding it by two, as well!
Thank you that, regardless of how I felt about my paper, I had the opportunity to learn more about You and Your wonderful complexity.
Thank you that I felt my paper was pretty decent.
Thank you for keeping me on task the entire night.
Thank you for not letting me go on Facebook once, but allowing me to completely concentrate on my paper.
Thank you for giving me that extra thirty minutes between classes to haphazardly throw in four additional sources, something I desperately needed.
Thank you for keeping me alert for all my classes today, despite not having slept all night.
Thank you for keeping me awake and alert all night.
Thank you for Koby Krikac.
Thank you that, even though I'm exhausted, I can praise you at the end of my day.
Thank you that it's Friday.
Thank you that I don't have to work today.
Thank you that I can take a nap.
Thank you again that I can take a nap. I'm really tired.
Thank you that I'm not so delirious that I can't give you thanks.
Thank you that even though I've very tired, I'm feeling better than I have in a long while.
Thank you, God, for providing for my every need.
Thank you.

Cats Killed My Parents

Detroit Police Department
Evidence File # 962JT700-1
Filed: November 24. 2012
Category: Recovered Journal Entry
Subject: Adrian Henske
Date: Unknown/Unspecified

Cats killed my parents 37 years ago. There hasn't been a night that's gone by that I don't think about it. Revenge has consumed me. My innocence is gone. My single, solitary thought is bent on finding them. I'll do whatever it takes...

I've begun taking on particular behaviors to try to get inside the mind of a cat. I groom myself by licking my hand and patting my hair down, then repeating this process several times. Yeah, I know it's not very sanitary. Sometimes I wake up with a bad hair day, and no amount of saliva can get my hair to stay down. I don't know how they do it, but I think I'm getting closer...

Questions haunt me. Why cats? Where have they gone? How do I find them? I don't know! My Kitten's Mittens® scratching post provides me little relief from this never-ending torment.

I know what they say. They try and tell me that a cat's average life span is 15 years, and that the cats who killed my parents couldn't possibly be alive today, but there's just something in my gut, this sick feeling, something I can't ever get rid of, that tells me they're out there somewhere, walking around, meowing, occasionally falling off things, yet landing on all fours. Yeah, they're out there all right. And I'm gonna' find them...

End of journal entry.

In Transition

I'm still trying to figure out who I am. I'm in transition and it's hard to deal with. I want to be an organized, responsible, disciplined person in order to effective for God's ministry and for life. I used to be lazy, disorganized, irresponsible and selfish. God has shown me that in order to function spiritually on even a basic level I have to embrace these disciplines. When I do, I thrive. The problem is I don't really know how to do this. I'm in the midst of a complete reprogramming.

For most of my life, I've lived in laziness and selfishness, so it's so easy to default back to these things. Not only that, but I know almost nothing else, so it's very hard for me to move forward because I have no preexisting format or example to follow.

And here I am, living a lifestyle that demands ultimate discipline because of the realistically limited time I have: I'm a full-time student, I work 15 hours a week (which includes rather concentrated shifts, not just spread out nicely throughout the week), I have to commute, and my dietary restrictions don't afford me the convenience of being able to quickly throw together a meal; I have to spend a good amount of time cooking and preparing most of my food in advance. I've got a lot going on that leaves little room for distractions. So I pay for it if there's any time spent not being utterly responsible. Time is so precious right now that I have very little wiggle room. Arguably I don't actually have enough time, so often time has to be created at the expense of lost sleep. This is especially true if I want to fulfill my expectations for my performance in school, specifically excelling and getting A's. (I should mention that "A's" aren't necessarily important, but my understanding and grasp of the material, as well as my engagement with it is reflected by higher grades.)

The problem is, I'm so disorganized, easily distracted and terrible at effectively using my time that too much time is wasted by either doing nothing or doing stuff that isn't that important. This is a problem because I honestly cannot afford to lose any time, and am likely failing most of my classes as a result. FAILING.

I have periods where I do really good, but it's usually inconsistent or never permanent. It'd be one thing if I was mostly consistent in my discipline and occasionally had periods where I got off track, but unfortunately the exact reverse is true. I cannot afford this.

So here I am, stuck in transition, at a time where I need to be disciplined, yet am not, and have to watch it all unfold before my eyes, to my utter horror. This is incredibly frustrating. I want to be a good student. I want to be disciplined and excel in my schoolwork. I can technically afford to get bad grades because it's all on me. I'm the one who stands to fail, and no one really goes down on this ship with me but me. But I want to be effective for God's ministry. I cannot afford to be behaving like this if I expect to be employed and participate at a professional level. For the real world, I can't get away with this. I'll be fired or never hired.

Aside from the secular things, I don't want to be ineffective for God. When people are lost and dying, I don't want to be sitting around wasting my time with television or video games (or insert your selfish distraction of choice) when that could be time spent honing my writing--for example--or doing something similarly Christ-minded. This I cannot afford. Time is too short. We have to live desperately for Christ or the world is lost.

So I don't want to wait for things to slacken to become effective for God. I don't want to wait to have less responsibilities to allow myself a better focus. I want to be a good steward of where God has me now. It's doable.

Lord, I need your strength to get me through this. I need your providence to build me up and make me effective for you. I can't do this without you.

Lord, thank you for transition. Even though I'm frustrated at where I'm at because I know and can see where I need to be, it is transition towards that person. You are molding me into the man you need me to be, and this is just the journey towards that. Thank you Lord that this transition is in constant continuum, that daily you are renewing me and that you will finish your good work in me.

Unasked-For Advice 1

Today's unasked-for advice: Freshmen probably shouldn't date.

Why Men Pull Away

I just saw an ad titled, "Why Men Pull Away," hinting at the hidden secret to heal repeated heart-break. There wasn't any explanation or description, they just want you to click on the link and find out the answer to this "mystery." But why not try to really answer this question instead of compensating for it? Let's start at the source and stop trying to redirect the blame for men's action onto the women for something they did or failed to do. Let's call men to account. Let's stop excusing men's irresponsibility. Let's stop being okay with women being treated as anything less than God's beautiful creation. The honest truth is, too many men are selfish and immature, so they cannot even begin to grasp what it means to pursue a woman (thus leaving women to the task of this displaced duty), and women don't seem to realize that their individual worth is of a much higher value than what is indicated by the way men often treat them.

Sure, there are things people can always improve about themselves, especially in selfless consideration of the other person. But there needs to be a healthy and realistic understanding of true self-worth before any consideration is ever given to any sort of "solutions." If we start there, at that bare minimum with no concessions, then we'll begin to understand that the answers we seek from the world to mend our broken, weary hearts will never satisfy. In their eyes, you'll never be good enough. Let's turn to God and who He says we are: meticulously and wonderfully crafted, made in His image. If a man can see that, he's not going to be able to pull away.

Summer Writing Scraps Vol. III

I'm trying to accomplish some writing this summer. I'll be posting some tidbits here, though most of my more serious, potentially final work won't make it on to the internet.

***

[Currently Untitled]

Harold checked his watch. Half past two. She was late. She was never late. Out of all the "meetings" they had had together in the past three months, she was never late--except for now.

Harold shifted in his seat. He had no choice but to wait. After all, she had something he wanted. It was a pity he'd have to take it from her like this. He'd bgun to enjoy their little relationship, but after this it would have to end.

Harold knew very little about her. Theirs was a business relationship, after all. Corrine was the name she gave him, but he doubted it was her real name. She herself only knew him as "Mr. [Temps]," a name he had used before in these particular situations. His real name was Gordon. Gordon Thomas.