The Lotus of Pleasure

The trees around them all their food produce:
Lotus the name: divine, nectareous juice!
(Thence call'd Lo'ophagi); which whose tastes,
Insatiate riots in the sweet repasts,
Nor other home, nor other care intends,
But quits his house, his country, and his friends.
- The Odyssey, Homer

We need a new car.

Well, need is a strong word. But here, you be the judge. On our 2000 Dodge Grand Caravan, there is a huge crack in the windshield. The CD player is broken. Right turning signal doesn't work. Driver and passenger side windows do not roll down. (The passenger side window is kept up by two sticks lodged at the base. That's right, sticks.) The tag light is out (I know because I recently got pulled over for that one). Now the passenger side door interior is falling off the metal frame when you open the door. My patient wife has driven this van for about 9 years, and we claim to hold on to vehicles until they fall apart. Well, it's falling apart.

The Music Inside

The rain beat heavily on the windshield, my wipers wiping furiously as I sped down the highway. The wind blew with even greater fury as small leafy branches flew across my path, ripped from the strong arms of their trees and carried helplessly now by the will of the storm.

Inside my truck, I was driven by another will. I was on a mission.

I had just dropped off my children in the safety of my parents' home where they were staying the night. The task now before me was to pick up dinner and a movie before my wife returned home from work. On the other side of this storm was a Friday night stay-at-home date: hot wings and The King's Speech. Meanwhile, there was only the torrent of wind and rain and highway.

Graduation Party Speech

Me with my wife, children, and parents

Last Saturday evening, my parents hosted a graduation party in my honor. Many of my closest family and friends were present, so I felt compelled to give a speech in their honor. The following is a transcript of that speech.

Dear Family and Friends:

I want to thank you all for coming this evening to my graduation party. I could scarcely be more excited if I were celebrating my eleventy-first birthday. Special thanks to my parents are in order for all of preparations for tonight and for hosting the party here at their home. It is fitting that we should celebrate my academic accomplishments here, because it reminds me that whatever academic or vocational success I could hope to have, I am still the boy who played in this very yard, cut its grass on hot summer days, rode my bike up and down this dirt road, and had countless adventures through these very woods. What I mean is that there are greater things that go into shaping a person than getting a degree. 

Eyes to See

"Son of man, you are living among a rebellious people. They have eyes to see but do not see and ears to hear but do not hear, for they are a rebellious people." Isaiah 12:2

Someone recently asked me what I enjoy about blogging. I immediately knew my answer. Blogging, when I write regularly, gives me eyes to see. It's the same thing that happens in the discipline of journaling, which is why the tagline for this blog is "a journal." Referring to journaling, or blogging, as a discipline is fitting, as anyone knows who has tried to maintain one. It takes commitment and work. In the case of blogging, your thoughts are formatted to be shared and read by others. Sometimes you wonder if anyone out there is reading, but in the end it doesn't matter if they are or not. (Dear reader, let me assure you that you are appreciated. I do thank you for reading. What I mean is that...) It's not about the writing itself (lines on a screen or page) but more about what the process of writing causes you to see in the world. It's about having eyes to see.

Merton's Prayer

By Thomas Merton, "Thoughts in Solitude"

"My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone."

Who Is It For?

I recently heard this story in a sermon by Tim Keller. It is a fictional story, so don't go looking for it in the Bible. The story is by Elizabeth Elliott, though I'm not sure of the original title.
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One day, Jesus instructed His disciples to find a stone to pick up and carry with them as they walked the road together. Peter, in particular, responds by selecting the smallest stone he can find, and he carries it as they journey. Eventually, Jesus and His disciples become hungry, but they have no food.

Jesus has the disciples stop by the road, and He says to them, "Now take out your stones."

As they bring out their stones, Jesus turns the stones into bread and invites them to eat. By now, Peter is regretting his choice of stone. He looks at his stone turned bread, and it's just a little crumb. He eats it, grumbling to himself, and afterward he is still quite hungry.

After lunch, Jesus tells His disciples to go find another stone to carry. This time, Peter goes and finds the largest stone he is able to bear. As they walk, he can barely carry the thing, but he can hardly wait until supper.

Finally, about supper time, hungry and exhausted, Jesus and His disciples reach a river side. As they are standing on the bank, Jesus once again asks them to take out their stones.

"Cast your stones into the river," He says. "Now follow Me."

The disciples obey, but they are perplexed by this command. Peter is a bit angry. This isn't what he or any of them were expecting.

In response to their frustration, Jesus simply asks, "Who were you carrying the stones for?"

Silence is a Room

Silence is a room

furnished by image

and illuminated by experience.

I enter alone

and discover presence.

Language waits outside

as I rest among realities

it is powerless to describe.