naked as we came

“A man might have a hundred children and live to be very old. But if he finds no satisfaction in life and in the end does not even get a decent burial, I say he would have been better off born dead… ” Ecclesiastes 6:3

I have been searching for myself for awhile now. I have to admit I haven’t found a place to call my home. I used to drive around town with a sense of peace; a sense of pride, but where has it all gone? I felt like I was somebody, because I was well known by the people that I grew up with. But now that I have moved on, and away, I feel lost. I invested so much time in my image and reputation; I neglected the very fabric of my being, I neglected God.

God makes it very clear that everything done out of selfish ambition is completely meaningless. I have been chasing the wind for sometime now. It twists and turns, heads north and south, and leads me in a dizzy dance. I have freedom to chase the wind around every corner and off every cliff, but why should I? Why should I invest time in things so utterly meaningless? I do not wish for a second that I would have been born without freedom, flaw, and desire. It is in my freedom that I freely chose to follow God. It is in my flaws that I see God’s strength. And it is in my desire that I find love for Him. But sometimes I get so sick of being human. Man and animal breathe the same air. We were formed from dust and will return to dust once life turns to death. The only thing that separates me from a beast is my soul. Compassion, forgiveness, love, wisdom, grace, redemption, art… these are things from the soul that no animal can experience. I must remind myself constantly that I have a weakness dwelling in my flesh. The power to over come this comes from God. And though God created the beasts, He does not dwell within them as He does me. This creates a dilemma. A choice. I can follow my flesh; my sinful nature, or I can follow my lover; my creator.

his beaten guitar

*A journal entry on the train bound for Chicago*

It was a beautiful sight. The case had wear, tear and signs of age. The man carrying the guitar looked the same. He sat with the guitar on his lap, refusing to part with it. I thought that if anyone had asked to hold it he might have killed them then and there. I wonder if the man can play that guitar. It is a bit of ridiculous question, but maybe he can’t, maybe he just loves the way the strings feel on his fingers, or the way he is the only one with that unique guitar. I wonder, should anyone be deprived of anything if they have a love for it? The guitar is a magnificent instrument, even with the scrapes and bruises. Some might consider it ugly and discard it, but I would cling to it like that man. I wonder if the man knows that God loves him like he loves that guitar. Does he know how beautiful he would be if he only let God hold him, tune him, and make wonderful music with him? Music that tells of love and compassion. Music that would burst out of his scars and fill the cracks of his soul. What keeps me in the seat? Why can’t I get up and tell that man of God’s love? I hope this trip makes me braver.

it has been awhile…

Lots has happened in my life since my last post. I went to Hong Kong this summer with CTI music ministries. It was by far one of the greatest experiences of my life. I have also changed location. I now live in a quaint little town in Wisconsin. Prairie du Chien is surrounded by mountain bluffs and open fields. My family and I are in the process of moving into and finishing a house that I hope to one day call home.

A lot has happened in my life, and I understand I have a lot of catching up to do. It is my hope to start sharing with you random stories from my summer in a late but well thought out form.

I hope be popping back in quite soon.

Thank You