Good Friday

Ah, dearest Jesus, how hast thou offended? Johann Cruger- 1640
Who was the guilty? Who brought this upon Thee?
Alas, my treason, Jesus hath undone Thee.
Twas I, Lord Jesus, I it was denied Thee;
I crucified Thee.

Therefore, dear Jesus, since I cannot pay Thee
I do adore Thee, and will ever pray Thee
Think on Thy pity and Thy love unswerving
Not my deserving.

Alas, and did my Saviour Bleed - Hugh Wilson-1766
Was it for crimes that I have done
He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity, grace unknown,
And Love beyond degree.

Thus might I hide my blushing face
While His dear cross appears;
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness
And melt mine eyes to tears

God is incredible- and I can't get over it. Time and time again, He shows his perfect timing and His perfect self. Yesterday was one crappy day. Sometimes it feels like God just takes off for a while~and as much as you try to mask how you are feeling around friends or whoever- there is this void; a sense that you are alone; the feeling that you are not right with the One Person who loves you the most. You can't shake the feeling, or the sadness that fills you as a result. It's terrible. But God sees you floundering.. and He hears your feeble voice.. and He gently pushes you to read His words, and listen. Today is Good Friday~ and it's been good timing..
To sit in church and be reminded of Christ crucified; what better way to put things in perspective? I see my constant failings, I feel the guilt and shame of my sins, I am exhausted by my attempts to deal with it on my own, and then I realize what Christ did. It doesn't get old-- He came here to be completely humiliated- beaten, ridiculed, spat on, whipped, stripped naked and nailed to a bloody cross, and for what? He was perfect. He is perfect. What crimes did He do??? It rips me up inside, trying to cope with the horror and the joy of Christ's death. But joy trumps the sadness, because Christ, out of sheer love for us would not let us die! In his death, I have life that I really don't deserve, and THAT is what "dissolves my heart in thankfulness and melts mine eyes to tears"
Halleluliah, what a Saviour!!!

Blaaaa

I don't know what's with me, but I feel extremely restless. I'm not sure what it is, because I am quite happy here at Redeemer, but sometimes I just feel very closed in. I can't quite explain it, but it makes me frustrated-- and I don't cope well with that emotion- it makes me restless. And that makes me frustrated-- oh boy. And those emotions form a nice blend of exhaustion, which is where I'm at right now.

You'd think the simple solution would be to just get some bloody sleep. Well, that was the game plan, but when your mind is restless, sleep isn't an option. For some reason, the brain kicks into overdrive to compensate for your body's inactivity or something-- making things worse. EW.
But sleep isn't the real solution anyways.

I think it's just a part of being me that gets me in these moods every once in a while. I over analyze, I brush things off- I miss travelling, I miss home-- I get torn between two things that are on opposite sides of the spectrum... I mess up. and the result is pure restlessness.. which is now finding an outlet in this blog. Unfortunately, I'm doing a lousy job. I know I'm being vague, but I really don't need to get specific. The bottom line is I JUST FEEL BLAA,

Thundercats

I woke up convinced the sky had ripped in half. The entire house shook with the crack of thunder that came and sat on our house. Yes, I know thunder can't sit... but it hovered, for several seconds. In any case, I jumped pretty high- let out a yelp ( my rib has not fully recovered) and then got very excited about the prospects of a thunderstorm. What is it about a black sky, rushing clouds, cool wind, and sporadic rainfall that gets me pumped?? Storms display awesome, power-- uncontrollabe power, and that excites me. The power, wrath, love, creativity of God is on display, and we get to experience it everytime He feels like putting on the show...
In any case, I really couldn't stay focused in biology. I get really restless around this time- papers lose their importance, quizzes become insignificant, assigned readings? what are those?
So I went for a walk in the rain with James, played a bit of frisbee with Katrina, tried my hand at tennis, and basically waited until the last possible minute to finish up my paper. In hind sight, that was stupid. But, my justification for that is this: I really won't care about that paper in a few years ( maybe days) from now, but the great times had in weather like this.. well that's going to stick with me for while. There are only a few more weeks of school left- might as well make the most of it.

Life is Good

Their are a few things about this place that make life pretty nice.
For example, my room. I find it very comfortable and red. I like the colour red.
Going out with the girls for a drink.
Listening to Tamille and James when they are in their zone. When those two get together, the music they create blows me away.
When we congregate in the kitchen ( a cubicle measuring 3 ft by 5ft) it is a place of intelligent conversation, which is most likely stimulated by the smell of Robyn's cooking.
Walking to class in undpredictable weather. I enjoy that.
Drinking black currant tea with my roommate .
Dorm 34.
Dorm 37.
Getting together every Wednesday and having devotions.
Late nights with Katrina and Robyn.. and laughing a lot.
Jordan Bergsma's humor/English accent.
Free time.
A walk around the block.
Chillin with the Roman ghetto girls.
A quality history lecture by Provost.
Deborah Bowen- who stimulates her students to think more than any Prof I've had ( bar Craig).
A good "body shake" with Tamille.
The smiling face of Mrs. Chiang.
Events like the banquet.
Procrastinating- aka- writing this blog when i should go read "Passage to India"

That last one made me feel guilty, which isn't so nice, but I'm going to follow up on that feeling and get motivated to do some school work...

Dance

Time is fricken flying. Time is fricken. Time is. Time. In a few weeks time I'll be 21. A few weeks ago, my friends were all in Florida. We anticipated the banquet for a long time, and now it's come and gone. Let's talk about that.
The banquet was excellent. As much as I dread the "dolling up" process- the evening itself was soooo great! The food was yummy, our table was hilarious, there was good music, and the dance was by far the highlight of the night. I think I forgot how much I love dancing. What a beautiful combination. After that- music alone seems naked. And since it's hard to dance without music.... the equation must look something like this : Music + Dance= heluva good time.
But again, there is a time and a place for everything, which brings us back to that wonderful word, TIME. So i suppose music on its own is good too, and I do dance to the music in my head quite often- which is technically dancing to no music.. so i'm going to say that they have a relationship similar to ( this is going to sound really nerdy, no offence to James, who does this often) fungi and algae. I mean, they can live on their own, and they do it quite well, but when you get these two together- wow. Harmony. Mutualism. Trine- I hope you nailed that one on the bio midterm this morning.
So, biology. That was my final midterm. Now all i have is 3 papers and exams to anticipate. That last sentence kind of reminds me of what Mrs. Chiang said the other day. We are always waiting for something else. Can we ever just enjoy the moment? The present? Doug- your blog says it best, (and i don't consider this blog theft, if I give you credit off the bat)
LIFE IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU ARE PLANNING OTHER THINGS
Time fricken flies. Enjoy it. And make sure you dance every once in a while- simply fantastic.

-This is my man Ben, and my dog Sam-
- pretty cute picture, just thought I'd share it

Ribs

What does it mean if you get two black eyes, a few twisted ankels, serious knee cap bruises, and a punctured rib? It means you are a spaz. I am a spaz. It just dawned on me yesterday too... as I stepped on Tamille's mirror and busted it ( for the second time) I don't know what my deal is- I used to be co-ordinated. Let's take a look at the punctured rib story. It starts with Ryan ( hey, i'm noticing a theme here with Ryan being in my blogs, and injury resulting) but anyways, he's sitting at the table, I am telling him a story. The story is irrelevent. My eggs start making some crazy noises, sort of a popping sound- which is my cue to go and flip them. I start my sprint to the kitchen, but the combination of wet socks on a slippery carpet is not good news- and I ended up flipping myself- with the only thing to break my fall being my clever little rib cage, which decided to snag on the metal tip of the chair. I think I hung there for a second, until my rib cage lost its grip, and then I hit the floor. Ouch. The popping sound at this point was either my eggs- now burnt, or my rib cage. Based on how I felt the next day, I am inclined to say rib cage. Anyways, moral of the story: watch out for Ryan