Stranger in your own country

It's crazy how terribly we treat the people who are indigenous to our own lands of Canada, to the US, to Australia. The Aboriginal peoples have a nobility and respect for nature, for animals, for the connections human hold to the basic elements of nature that keep us alive. It's something that I think we can all learn from, and something we NEED to learn from. How can we eat ourselves away to obesity on packaged foods at the grocery store and still call ourselves environmentalists? How can we use the products of our everyday lives and never recognize the gift that nature has given us by supplying us with them? Perhaps this disconnection of what we've taken away is what has caused humanity to become so calloused to the fact that we are everyday causing our planet to further expand its destruction. I think we have a lot of apologizing to do. And a lot to learn from those we've called 'dogs' and sub-humans. I think that perhaps, by doing so, we've made ourselves out to be the very things we've called those we've oppressed. Check out this documentary "Exile" by Zacharias Kunuk on isuma video. It's definitely worth watching - not something we get taught in our history classrooms, yet it does not mean we are left unaccountable to the atrocities committed against these Inuit families.

Wooden Heart

We’re all born to broken people on their most honest day of living
and since that first breath... We’ll need grace that we’ve never given
I've been haunted by standard red devils and white ghosts
and it's not only when these eyes are closed
these lies are ropes that I tie down in my stomach,
but they hold this ship together tossed like leaves in this weather
and my dreams are sails that I point towards my true north,
stretched thin over my rib bones, and pray that it gets better
but it won’t won’t, at least I don’t believe it will...
so I've built a wooden heart inside this iron ship,
to sail these blood red seas and find your coasts.
don’t let these waves wash away your hopes
this war-ship is sinking, and I still believe in anchors
pulling fist fulls of rotten wood from my heart, I still believe in saviours
but I know that we are all made out of shipwrecks, every single board
washed and bound like crooked teeth on these rocky shores
so come on and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

I am the barely living son of a woman and man who barely made it
but we’re making it taped together on borrowed crutches and new starts
we all have the same holes in our hearts...
everything falls apart at the exact same time
that it all comes together perfectly for the next step
but my fear is this prison... that I keep locked below the main deck
I keep a key under my pillow, it’s quiet and it’s hidden
and my hopes are weapons that I’m still learning how to use right
but they’re heavy and I’m awkward...always running out of fight
so I’ve carved a wooden heart, put it in this sinking ship
hoping it would help me float for just a few more weeks
because I am made out of shipwrecks, every twisted beam
lost and found like you and me scattered out on the sea
so come on let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, just some tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

My throat it still tastes like house fire and salt water
I wear this tide like loose skin, rock me to sea
if we hold on tight we’ll hold each other together
and not just be some fools rushing to die in our sleep
all these machines will rust I promise, but we'll still be electric
shocking each other back to life
Your hand in mine, my fingers in your veins connected
our bones grown together inside
our hands entwined, your fingers in my veins braided
our spines grown stronger in time
because are church is made out of shipwrecks
from every hull these rocks have claimed
but we pick ourselves up, and try and grow better through the change
so come on y'all and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, were just tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

from Wooden Heart Poems, released 06 July 2010

Knowledge

I just had this moment where my entire mind exploded with the fact that I know absolutely nothing.

Yep, so I'm reading this intensely interesting article on colonizing knowledge, on how the West sees everything they do as right and everything other cultures do as wrong. Even now, the West has so colonized places like South America, Africa, and parts of Asia that only people who think like 'Westerners' have valid ideas. For example, we all need a University education to be smart. And the BEST university education is in the West, at the 'Ivy League schools' of England and the US. And so... the most respected people in the world today generally have a western education.

But, in all seriousness, why is that? Isn't knowledge which is rooted in their own culture equally valid, equally important? And what makes 'empirical data' any more valid than 'qualitative data'? In many ways, the emotional, the parts of humanity that are immeasurable, are indeed more important than the number of toes I have. Yes, quantitative data has its place - we can look at how many people made x decision and then analyze that. But then again, have you ever asked them why they made x decision? I'm 100% sure that varies from person to person, and it's a great deal more revealing to search out the heart of the decision than the decision itself.

Anywho, all this to say that perhaps everything I've studied is just knowledge because some weirdo says it is. In all seriousness, whose to say that Western thought is the correct way of thinking? Perhaps my lens is fogged and seeing everything wrong. Whose to say I know anything at all - all but a to-be-achieved degree and a transcript that says I got x grade in y class. hrm.

Then again, maybe the only truth we can ever be sure of is that of which we are unsure.

Love that surpasses knowledge

To come to a full knowledge of the love of God is near impossible - I'm going to say, it is impossible.

And yet, I believe, there is a moment in everyone's life when this love finally hits them square in the eye. Like someone has stuck their hand in your chest and have started to squeeze your heart and make it beat again. It may not even be a full and complete version of God's love, but if even a spark of it hits you, it sets you on fire.

For me, it was this summer. I came back from University and literally felt dead in sin. I had entered the 'grey' area, only to find that in my search through the fog, I'd come out on another path. And while I didn't go all the way down, I sat on a log a ways down, waiting and seeing what might happen there.

It's funny though, how once you hit this place, how once you lose yourself and those values you once held dear, then you realize that the foggy place is caused by you. And when I finally realized that, it was like someone took a big wooden board and whacked me on the head with it. I fell down, had a massive headache, and then said, "Lord, I can't do it. I don't want to be on this log anymore. But I can't find my way back through the fog."

And, funny enough, Jesus found me. He didn't just call out to me, he came and grabbed my hand and took me back through.

Here's where the real kicker is: He loved me. He never lost his faith in me, he knew me and my heart, who I wanted to be and what my needs really were, whether or not I was willing to admit those to everyone around me. And then... he filled those voids in. He filled me up with himself. He whispered to me, "I love you. I want you."

And so there I was. Through the fog, on the clear path once again, holding the hand of someone who knew me and loved me so much that he came and met me exactly where I was at, pursued me, wooed me back to him, and married me. Ha, yes, I'm married to God. He calls me beloved, and here I am, the prostitute that loved the world and came wandering back to the only one that gave me anything of value. And now, I have experienced that spark. And I'm so on fire.

God brings us down to lowly places so that we can rise back up with wings. Never look for satisfaction in those worldly things that give happiness for but a moment - I've found it's better to suffer and be isolated and have this love that surpasses knowledge than to do anything that gets me popularity, success, or fame in this life.

Ephesians 3: 14-21

Baptism by Waterfall

Most often, the purest faith is that which is lived outside of the normalcy of the church. I got to experience that last night.

One of my best friends became a Christian a year ago, in a rather unconventional way, but one which was no less real than any other. While still a new Christian in many ways, his faith is real, and his life proves it. After telling me two days ago that he wanted to get baptized before going back to University, I searched out a pastor and/or leader who could baptize him before he headed back, and then proceeded to hand him their phone number yesterday. What came next makes for a beautiful story.

After some hesitancy, he called me back two hours later, requesting that my brother and I baptize him in a waterfall where all three of us had together a beautiful God-moment. In fact, most of our times spent together were in nature, and mostly, at waterfalls. So it was very fitting.

Anyways, that night, after homechurch, we gathered together his closest friends who had been there who his journey with God and went down to a waterfall at midnight, where the service began. Beginning with intros from my brother and I, then a full-length testimony from my friend, and then a group prayer, we asked him whether he believed that Jesus was the Son of God, the only true God, and that he died for his sins, to which he loudly exclaimed, "Yes. Yes! YES! I BELIEVE!" His excitement was overwhelming and so genuine. haha.

So continuing, we simply said, "Then in the presence of God and the people here today, we baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit." And into the waterfall he went, coming out sopping wet. And my brother and I followed behind. After which proceeded a round of very wet hugs, a rendition of Under the Sea, and laughs of joy and excitement.

So he was baptized by his friends, in a waterfall, at about 1 in the morning.

And it was one of the purest, most sincere, and joyful God-moments I've ever been blessed to be a part of. My friend summed it up nicely - "Don't you think that the angels are dancing and having a party in heaven right now?"

In the pursuit of success

Occasionally, I wonder what it really means to be successful. And how exactly I am to pursue this. Or, rather, whether it is really even something worth pursuing.

As I'm finishing off my undergrad, I keep asking myself - where do I want to be in the future? Or, even moreso, who do I want to be? If you have the intellectual ability to attend Cambridge or Harvard or Yale, do you go after it? This is where most people nod their heads and say, of course!

But here's me asking, why? For what purpose? To be recognized as someone who attended this prestigious university? For the recognition of my degree? To become wildly famous and 'successful'?

Okay, so let's say I go to 'x' University, get my degree, and become the UN Secretary-General. Or perhaps, a higher position, the US President. (ha). What have I achieved? Still nothing. Not unless I actually do something for people. Not unless people's lives are better for it.

I guess this all seems like mambo jumbo. But I suppose I wonder to myself whether being in a position of power is really something worthwhile at all, if, in that position, you've lost touch with the entire reason you wanted that position.

I studied International Relations because I want to help the oppressed, I want to love them where they're at, I want to change the system that's making them live the way they are. I want to give them hope for something better, and be involved in their lives. But, if in my 'pursuit of success', I somehow forget to meet the people I'm working for, to know who they are and love them for it, to be inspired by them, then I've forgotten the entire reason I'm doing what I'm doing, and it's only foolishness on my part.

At the end of my life, when I face God and he asks me what I've done, I don't want to say that I attended meeting with powerful diplomats and make a suggestion or two on why we should or shouldn't define a conflict as a genocide. Good grief. I want to say that I was there with the people who were suffering, that I loved them when they needed it, that I showed them who Christ was - his incredible love and compassion - in that situation. If I lose sight of that, shame on me. Wordly success is very often more shameful than we realize - sometimes, the most lowly position is where we find the greatest hope.

Love

I was asked to write a speech on love for the wedding of a very dear friend of mine - here's my attempt at explaining this rather inexplicable word.
---

Love is something that always seems hard to define. It starts with giggles, with laughter, and "do you think he likes me?" It starts with feelings of respect, of admiration, of care. And then it grows.

Love is friendship. It is, as Aristotle famously put it, one soul in two bodies. You are an unbeatable team. You build each other up, you spur each other on, you give advice, you listen. You're the hand that helps the other up when they're down, and the smile that lights up when the other achieves a goal.

Love is, perhaps, a pursuit that never ends. To let someone know that they are so important to you that you're going to make them breakfast in bed, you're going to buy them flowers spontaneously, and you're going to take a sick day off work because to you, they are the most beautiful movie star, rock star, or model. They are the most precious person in the world.

Love is also, very often, a decision. It is choosing to love someone when they hurt you, when you're yelling at each other, or when you just don't feel the same romance that was there when you first started dating. It is the decision to stick with them through the hurt and the pain because you want them, you want this, everyday and forever. But it is, also, more than that.

I think most importantly, love is selflessness. It is putting someone else, their hopes, their needs, their desires, above your own. You want to support them when they're sad, you want to help them achieve their goals, and you want to make them smile and laugh for no other reason than that it makes them happy. And I think this quality of love is the most beautiful. I think it is, perhaps, the closest a person can get to experiencing the unconditional, sacrificial love of God.

To close, I'd like to share a poem from Shakespeare which has, for me, been the love poem that I come back to time and again.

Sonnet 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediment.
Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds
Or bends with the remover
To remove
Oh no! It is an ever-fixed mark
Which looks on tempests and is not shaken.
It is the star to every wandering bark
Whose worth's unknown
Though his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool
Though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come
Love alters not within his brief hours and weeks
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.