Childhood. Roughly 15 years of your life to be a kid. Not a heck of a lot- if you think about it. For some reason, my friends and I always had a keen sense of awareness that those years would be preciously short-- a span of time that would whip us around, fling us full force into a million adventures, and then dump us into the real world- as adults. And here I am. 20. I’m not sure when the transition happened- time is so gradual, but there is no denying that at 20, you’re not a kid anymore. “Fun” connotates (?) something completely different than when I was 10 or even 15.. and yet, strangely, I often still feel like a kid. I made a fort a few weeks ago in our living room, consisting of 8 mattresses, sheets draped like a ginormous tent, and heaps of pillows to keep things cozy. Then we had a slumber party. And I’m 20. My sister was married at 20. Wow- time flies.
Today I went home for a visit and the boys went out to boot around on the snowmobiles with my cousins. They were pulling tubes- whipping the kids at 100mph. I lasted about 3 minutes in the living room socializing with the Bakkers before I decided I had to try out that tube. Well worth it. I told Michelle she had to get out there- but she was taking care of Benjamin. She’s very responsible. But even if he didn’t need a diaper change, I can’t see my sister on the back of a tube being yanked around the pasture behind a snowmobile…
But maybe this has absolutely nothing to do with growing up. Perhaps it’s dumb of me to even draw that comparison. We’ve always been completely different. But it just hits me sometimes, like my sister’s jab to the ribs (she has a nasty sucker punch :) that we are SO different. Maybe I’m just not going to be the type of person who outgrows my childhood pastimes. Maybe what I did for fun, and do for fun, will always be fun—and I’ll just never get off that “snowmobile” that whips me around, and flings me full force into the unknowns of life- and I’ll face each challenge, obstacle, and unknown as an adventure- Sounds ideal. I wonder if that’s how I’ll turn out? I guess time will tell.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Thursday, January 25, 2007
What makes me smile
1) chinese checkers with Katrina
2) crunchy snow
3) tea in the morning
4) weird people
5) disney movies
6) my rhino picture
7) airplane take offs
8) whangdoodles
9) cabbage rolls on my birthday
10) the black stallion's last race
1) chinese checkers with Katrina
2) crunchy snow
3) tea in the morning
4) weird people
5) disney movies
6) my rhino picture
7) airplane take offs
8) whangdoodles
9) cabbage rolls on my birthday
10) the black stallion's last race
11) good music
12) beating Kirk at ping pong
13) My snork
14) the word " discombobulate"
15) canoodling
16) campfires
17) Jamaican bobsledding
18) Ryan's films
19) Chicago Bulls Theme song
20) Failing road tests
21) Basketball
22) Throwing mouldy wraps
23) my grandma
24) Spanish Prof.. haha
25) fuzzy blankets
26) unique minds
27) Tamille
28) clown fish
29) my crazy childhood
30) slumber parties
31) when people giggle
* I guess it doesn't take much-
* life is so much better when you're smiling
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Perfect Timing
Today is Sunday. It was only 7 days ago that I was last sitting in church, being reminded, challenged, and inspired to start the week fresh- to wake up each morning and say "This is the day the Lord has made!" - Seize it, live it, glory in the fact that God has branded me His own- and accept the joys and responsibilities that go with it. Man, after church it really hits me how good it is to be a Christian. To be together with the body of believers, to sing, hear the preaching, and be fed in a way that I can't really express. And when your heart is full to bursting, to set out for home, ready to face a new day, face the world, and shine the light that God has so graciously rekindled.
But we forget so quickly. By Monday night, I'm struggling. The bonfire becomes a wimpy flame, fragile, flickering; growing weaker and weaker each day. Why is that? What is it about re-entering the "real world" that makes us forget? Can we really be so fickle? We bicker, fight, gossip, slander, hate, abuse, and in our ignorance we somehow still try to convince ourselves that we are wonderful people. It's sad. As the flame retreats under a bushel-preferring the "shelter" provided, we don't even notice. In fact- we leave it there, safe, secure, and indifferent. Soon it becomes a dying ember, and what do we do? Pull out the magnifying glass, fool ourselves into thinking we still harbour a bonfire in our hearts because we can regurgitate doctrine, quote scripture, or whatever else it is that makes us think we have got things together. But where is the passion?
God is so good to such a miserable crowd of people- That's why after 6 days He tells us to get back together, so we can actually "get things together." His timing is perfect. He won't let the flame die. Today there was a baptism followed by the Lord's Supper. What better way to experience the communion of the saints than through these two sacraments? To be reminded of the covenant God made with us, and then to be hit again with the reality that Christ had to DIE. It's humiliating. Everything that was so important the week before, things that pushed God into the margins, things that caused our flame to sputter seem to lose their significance. We refocus, exchanging our inverted eyeballs for a set that looks good because it looks to Christ.
We need Sunday. We need a day set aside for rest and worship, a day to be reminded, because unfortunately, we quite quickly forget. We forget who we are, what is demanded of us, and how we are supposed to live. God knows this, loves us anyways, and willingly sets us straight so we can begin a new week again. The cycle continues, but God never gives up on us.
Amazing.
But we forget so quickly. By Monday night, I'm struggling. The bonfire becomes a wimpy flame, fragile, flickering; growing weaker and weaker each day. Why is that? What is it about re-entering the "real world" that makes us forget? Can we really be so fickle? We bicker, fight, gossip, slander, hate, abuse, and in our ignorance we somehow still try to convince ourselves that we are wonderful people. It's sad. As the flame retreats under a bushel-preferring the "shelter" provided, we don't even notice. In fact- we leave it there, safe, secure, and indifferent. Soon it becomes a dying ember, and what do we do? Pull out the magnifying glass, fool ourselves into thinking we still harbour a bonfire in our hearts because we can regurgitate doctrine, quote scripture, or whatever else it is that makes us think we have got things together. But where is the passion?
God is so good to such a miserable crowd of people- That's why after 6 days He tells us to get back together, so we can actually "get things together." His timing is perfect. He won't let the flame die. Today there was a baptism followed by the Lord's Supper. What better way to experience the communion of the saints than through these two sacraments? To be reminded of the covenant God made with us, and then to be hit again with the reality that Christ had to DIE. It's humiliating. Everything that was so important the week before, things that pushed God into the margins, things that caused our flame to sputter seem to lose their significance. We refocus, exchanging our inverted eyeballs for a set that looks good because it looks to Christ.
We need Sunday. We need a day set aside for rest and worship, a day to be reminded, because unfortunately, we quite quickly forget. We forget who we are, what is demanded of us, and how we are supposed to live. God knows this, loves us anyways, and willingly sets us straight so we can begin a new week again. The cycle continues, but God never gives up on us.
Amazing.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
I'm not sure why I want to start blogging. Maybe to pin down some thoughts that tend to pop up in my brain from time to time. Thoughts that I don't entertain for very long, but by putting them off, they grow more insistent- clawing their way from the back of my mind, and demanding my attention. I dont' know whyI stuff them there. They obviously don't like it.
Maybe I want to start blogging just out of curiosity. What will happen when my ideas move from my mind to the computer screen? It's interesting. I have no idea right now how this blog will turn out, but the thoughts in my head ( that i never really consciously knew were existent) have now made themselves evident because i've forced them to become words. Readable, tangible, concrete. This amazes me. It also amazes me that the words i write seem to fill up so much space, and yet what exactly have I written about? Ironic how abstract the concrete can be.
But to be brutally honest, I want to blog because my handwriting is garbage. I've kept a journal for years, and I've noticed that with time, the words I want to put on paper-which take on the ideal form in my mind- mutate into a mush of scribbles by the time they hit the paper. What is that all about? There was a time back in 4th grade when cursive writing was something to be proud of. Now? My letters have rebelled against convention- t's pass for l's, r's are hopeless scribbles, m's and n's have turned communist with their equal distribution of 'humps' and any long words are cut in half thanks to 'filler letters' that embody the essential curves and lines necessary for the brain to make the connection to a word and its meaning. Efficient? Sure, if I didn't need to hire someone to decipher my journal.
I guess those are the three main reasons to start this blog. But if those were the only reasons, I would just type letters to myself, and that would be dumb. So for my 4th and final reason, I really want to keep my family and friends posted on my life, thoughts, and whatever else compels me to write- and as a side note- Doug, i hope you do the same!
Maybe I want to start blogging just out of curiosity. What will happen when my ideas move from my mind to the computer screen? It's interesting. I have no idea right now how this blog will turn out, but the thoughts in my head ( that i never really consciously knew were existent) have now made themselves evident because i've forced them to become words. Readable, tangible, concrete. This amazes me. It also amazes me that the words i write seem to fill up so much space, and yet what exactly have I written about? Ironic how abstract the concrete can be.
But to be brutally honest, I want to blog because my handwriting is garbage. I've kept a journal for years, and I've noticed that with time, the words I want to put on paper-which take on the ideal form in my mind- mutate into a mush of scribbles by the time they hit the paper. What is that all about? There was a time back in 4th grade when cursive writing was something to be proud of. Now? My letters have rebelled against convention- t's pass for l's, r's are hopeless scribbles, m's and n's have turned communist with their equal distribution of 'humps' and any long words are cut in half thanks to 'filler letters' that embody the essential curves and lines necessary for the brain to make the connection to a word and its meaning. Efficient? Sure, if I didn't need to hire someone to decipher my journal.
I guess those are the three main reasons to start this blog. But if those were the only reasons, I would just type letters to myself, and that would be dumb. So for my 4th and final reason, I really want to keep my family and friends posted on my life, thoughts, and whatever else compels me to write- and as a side note- Doug, i hope you do the same!
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