Embarrassing Funny Story

So, one of my little sisters from St. Simons wanted me to play a game of 50 questions. For the first question, she asked that I tell my most funny memory. For lack of anything coming to memory: I wrote her the story that I usually save for my most embarrassing moment. But since I got to share this story in writing rather than person, the story came out unusually more creative and better put together than normal. So I've decided to include it here for everyone's benefit. It hope it is edifying... as opposed to unedifying.

"Funniest Memory: thats a tough one to just bring to memory. I remember when I was 12 or so, I went to Indiana for a soccer camp for a week. During the camp, I took a fancy to one of the girls on one of the girls teams that was also at that camp that week. One night after the camp, a number of us were lounging in the lounge (naturally), there were guys from my team and a number of girls from her team. She was sprawled out on a sofa, and I was positioned with my hands on the back of the sofa she was on. I was basically standing over her. Well everything was going pretty smooth. I was putting out the vibe and feeling pretty fly. And one of my friends said something that was real funny, and I laughed. But accompanied with my normal gutteral laugh, came a long and thick snot rocket. The rocket shot out of my noise - projecting directly towards her face. And my brain registered the fact that it was heading directly towards her face - and something inside of me died in that moment. And whats worse.... as soon as the rocket left my nose, her eyes locked onto the snot rocket. She saw it, she knew the stakes involved;.... and she knew it was heading directly towards her face. I saw her eyes in slow motion- as they widened in shock and terror and catastrophe and disgust. And the snot rocket progressed towards her...closer and closer. In pure natural bodily reaction, I tried to undue the damage already done by sharply and dramatically inhaling through my nose. And a miracle occured. The snot rocket which was in this micro moment, still progressing towards her face, a foot away, 8 inches away, 6 inches; and then that doomed rocket of yellowish semi solid snot began to slow down in its flight of death. And it slowed down. And it stopped, by the sheer grace of God, in mid air. And then with the last dredges of my reactionary inhalation, the snot rocket snapped back up its path and settled deep into my nasal cavity once again. No harm, no foul, right? Not true. She knew what happened, as well as I knew what happened. And her hands shot to her face in an effort to protect herself from a mucusy intruder that had already come the distance, said hi, and returned. And I backed out of the room - not knowing how to handle this overload of terror, shame, and relief. Even though no one else saw what happned, I didn't come back to the lounge that night. The girl and I never talked about that fateful 2 seconds."

Sonhood

So, over the last few months I feel like God's been teaching me that I am His son; I've slowly begun to believe Him. These are a few of the entries from my journal. They are raw and unprocessed, and I apologize for the mistakes, but I hope it is useful and uplifting.

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9/25/10

Just listened to Joquin's teaching on Maturing into Childlikeness, while running down Riverbend and watching the sun peek in and out through the landscape and rise over the dewy golden ladened grassy hills. The scene was so wonderful I had to stop and laugh at the beauty of it. And that is the first time in a while I just felt completely unstrived-for appreciation and enjoyment come out of me. And Daddy, I really feel like You are pressing it on my soul that I've been striving so hard lately – to do things and to be somebody for You. To be a big shot for You. I've been striving so hard – no wonder I've been having such trouble enjoying You. I've been all about the business of serving, even the business of enjoying you, instead of just enjoying You. Children wander and explore and play and taste and imagine. And in their own world they accomplish a lot – but to the ethics of our adult minds it just looks like useless, aimless prattle. But there is truth in it, there is purity in it, there is boldness in it. And in the kingdom of God – those who are spiritual children/warriors can learn useful truths from this childlike wandering. Furthermore, yesterday's lost bag scene shows me much too. A young child fears no evil naturally – and supernaturally if their Dad is there. They just don't see evil or danger. In the same way, yesterday all I had to do was truly look into Your eyes and see and believe that You were there and that You never take Your eyes off of me and You watch me and guard me all the time and there is no evil that I should suspect or be privy to be aware of. Fear no evil. I need fear no evil, for You always watch me.

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Daddy! Your MY Dad. MY Dad! MY Dad! When I see You, I'm looking at me too. You are my ancestry, my heritage, my blood, my DNA. What's Yours is mine. I am Yours. You delight in me. You pick me up and play with me, and fight monsters with me and wrestle with me. And You watch me, You love watching me. You fill with joy when You see Yourself in me. You chose me. And encourage me. You look forward to teaching me and reading me truths You have written and revealing secrets You have hidden. God, You enjoy just being with me. You look forward to it. You rejoice in it. I'm Your boy! I'm Your boy! And You are the King and Your kingdom is secure and I am secure and safe in Your dominion. I am encouraged to run and roam and explore and adventure – for Your kingdom hand protects me. Your gates are guarded. Your servants stay with me. And You – You Yourself keep Your eye on me, watch me, walk with me, “make Your stand with me, hand in hand with me.” You want me to look at You and want to hold You as if I were a young baby. You want me to be brave and talented and curious and explorative as if I were a budding toddler. You want me to learn from You, from Your lessons, from Your fireside stories, as if I were a young boy. You want me to begin to work with You, to understand things You understand, to begin to develop higher skills and callouses and muscles like You as if I were a maturing boy. You want me to mature and become my own personality and own man in You, and become adept like You, become Your partner, teammate, coheir, to govern with You, to counsel with You, to look like You, with You, in the spitting image of You as if I were Your own son come of full mature age. Daddy I pray that You would teach me more about Yourself through this.

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Daddy, for the first time I realized this world, these trees, rivers, mountains, skys, these are Your lands and You've given them to me to explore, roam, enjoy. You say “All You see and as far as You can walk are My lands; and so they are your lands Sean; what's Mine is yours.” You have shaped it and molded it and fashioned it and staked it with the mark of Your kingdom. And You've done it for You- just to create good, and You've done it for me- that it may be my playground – our place to be together and train, explore, and have fun. And like a giant sandbox You have hidden wonderful trinkets and secrets in nooks and crannies. Like Your palace gardens, You have designed spots in which I can learn of beauty. You have placed areas to challenge me and teach me adventure and risk and grit. But You know Your kingdom and You are with me. And because we are always together, Daddy – nothing can truly harm me. These are truths. And the part that astounds me Daddy is this: You look at me and say “All this that you see- these lands; are Mine, and its valuable and I am rich beyond measure. But you My son are My crowning achievement, and you are more valuable to Me than all of this by far.” (And that's important because when we, His children, were taken – we had already given His lands into the devil's hand- like when Esau sold his birthright. So the Father had to have something as valuable or more valuable than us to ransom us. His lands and other creations could not cover the ransom – 1.) because we gave their use into the enemies hands already 2.) because their value was not worth enough to buy us back. The only thing of enough worth and value to buy us back was Himself. And so He sold Himself for us, for me, His son. Thank you Lord! Teach me. Teach me. Teach me.

9/26/10

Oh Daddy! I'm beginning to understand- just beginning- to see that I am Your son. I'm Your son. I'm Your son. There is such a weight of love and favor and glory that is reserved for me, stored for me, prepared for me, waiting on me, watching me. Such power, such high calling, such responsibility – and yet in Your eyes all else pales in comparison – all else really doesn't matter compared to me being Your son, and You being my Father. Hell, You already gave me everything and I sold it all – like the prodigal son, like Adam, I squandered and gave it away and sold my birthright and forgot my name, forgot my Father, and remembered not the glory and warmth and love of His household. And I forgot my bloodline, my heritage, my royalty. I disbelieved and scoffed at my destiny. And I gave myself to common things, and the lowest dirtiest jobs, and to foul low addictions and pleasures, and lived in poverty and need and brokenness, and slept and ate with the pigs. But you called me back to You. You sent the wind of Your love to remind me of You like a foggy memory of a dream. And out of selfishness and pain I remembered the goodness of Your kingdom, and I started looking for the place they called Blessed and Provision. And while still away and broken You saw me - - - - and ran to me and embraced me. And You poured Your love out on me and I was reminded of the things of love, and then of love itself and what it is, and then of an old love in my life long forgotten, and then of Your love for me. Your love for me. Your love for me. That You loved me and love me still and will love me. Then You put Your ring on my finger; and I remembered and continue to remember noble and valuable things. And as I looked at that ring, I remembered something. I saw the mark of something – something powerful – something sacred – something ….. family! I remembered the beauty of family – the connection – the togetherness; and then I remembered that I had a family. A family. I had- have a family! I have a family. I have a family. I HAVE a family. I have a bond that cannot be broken. I have a connection deeper than time. Deeper than hate, than pain, than failure. Then I looked at the family insignia on the ring and I realized that was my finger it was on, and then I looked into Your face and saw – oh I saw in Your eyes – on my finger – I am Your family. I am Your son. I am Yours.

9/27/10

Oh my God. There is no one like You. You are the magnificent One; and yet You are my Papa; my Close One. All powers pale to Yours; all glory flows from and to You. You are the strongest, greatest, most worthy, and yet You call me Your son, Your child, Your friend, Your own. I am well favored of the King! I am beloved of the Mighty One. Your attendants watch me. Your angels guard me. You walk with me. This world is a safe place because I am Your son.

Lets get it goin

What is the purpose of this blog. Overflow. This is the first year of my life, that I have felt inundated with love and joy for others. I never knew I could feel this way. A desire to pour healing, and truth, and peace, and forgiveness into people. I wish I could just grab a person by the soul, rip off the lid, and hold them there while I heave out this river of life into their being, until they feel as full and free as I've had to feel. If I could actually do this: things would be simple. You would be walking along to class one day, and then all of a sudden you would see me run by shouting "HEY YOU" and pointing as I chase down some frightened pagan, to catch them, and regurgitate love all over them in the soul realm. And then you would see me start running and pointing after another person, as the first person gets up singing psalms. Unfortunately, I cannot do this. Humans do not work this way. We are a broken people who have to be taught by the Holy Spirit how to be loved; how to receive the things that are real, truthful, and good. And God does not work this way either. He does not force us. He does not overpower us and force us to receive His love. God waited for me. Wooed me. Protected me. Watched me. Invited me. Helped me. Waited for me more. Spoke to me. Saved me. And now that I'm His, He continues the process. But as I look back on it, as I read the Bible, as I talk to my Husband, I wonder and guess at it all. About how I could feel, and be, destined for Him and yet still know that I chose Him. Overpowered by Him, but not raped. Its all very mysterious. But I am actually on a side trail right now; so I'm going to pull a 'chutes and ladders' and slide my way down to where I'm suppose to be. And I end up at this idea: In my weak, fleshly, imperfect self I have tasted now the pain of wanting to love somebody but not being able to: to have the joy and love of Christ flowing in me so much that I have a tremendous pain to get it out and share it with those who need it: and yet I cannot do so, because they cannot receive it. And today, I have a new thought: God has this burden of love to share. His is far greater. His love infinitely more pure and powerful. His desire infinitely more powerful. And yet He still does not break form and protocol. He still does not rape. He is so gentle. He is so patient. So self disciplined.

If sometimes I hurt for the love I long to share; how must be the feelings of God, this Source of all love?

Anyways, that is my thought for today.

I want to finish with this, lest you think I confuse myself with Super Christian. I am so fleshly. I've tasted more of love and joy than I ever dreamed I would. I have it in me - joined with me through the living Spirit - the God who never leaves me. And yet sometimes I can lock up that river of love and hold it back with such deathlike coldness. Case in point: my heart burns for my friend who practices homosexuality. Somehow God has enabled me to open my heart and love towards him like he is my own brother. I see him as my brother. And yet, a coworker of mine from the UGA bookstore, who is victim to the same sin; I can barely open my mouth around him, I'm so offended. I don't understand this yet.

I love you

Testing. Testing.

This is my first blog movement. Are we go, no go?