All Was Vanity

That hindsight is 20/20 is an accurate assumption when realized to late.

Card in, pin dialed, acces granted, cash, always more cash, after all it sustained life. Cash is king and the old man seemed to make it a motto pasted to the pricy bumper. The old man's son was saddened at the thought of his fathers condition. So old, the breath of death about to breath its reality into his nostrils, did his father not get it. "Old man, your time is up, the time has come to move on, another season of life is through." When it was all said and done, what did the old man have? A fancy car, money, a caring son that perhaps wanted his money, and the warm welcome of an unknown reality six feet under ground.

To be born, what is received? Breath, light, warmth if lucky, and the promise of death. To be born is vanity.

To mature, what is received? Recognition, responsibility, restriction, failure, and the promise of death. To mature is vanity.

To increase in wealth, what is received? Stuff, broken friendships, increase of friendships, a miserable spouse, and the promise of death. To increase in wealth is vanity.

To grow old, what is received? Memories of the past life of failure, a reminder of the promise of death. To grow old is vanity.

All is vanity said the preacher and he said it right. But what is this end, this promise of death. When the promise is fulfilled, is that vanity? The one decided course in life that happens, we avoid. But, that all is hopeless is not the way to address our predicament. Death is conquered.

The apostles of Acts where exuberant and exceedingly joyful over the resurrection of Jesus because Jesus over came death. He has now given us a life to live with purpose, a life that is not promised an eternal unconsciousness  It is a purpose devoid of vanity, where the useless existence of humanity has been replace with hope, hope in the resurrection.

Dress code

Here is a paper that I needed to write for one of my classes. Any critics?

What is the use of covering my body? It would be rather unconventional to ask any random someone this question. However, it seems as though people on a daily basis are asking this very question with the way they dress. It appears that people ignore the true purpose of clothing. This purpose can be summed up into two simple points: to provide warmth and protection for the body; and to ensure that modesty and purity is protected. The common place trends of low necklines, high, tight fitting tops, and sagging pants, make us question why they want to conceal just enough to give urge to the onlooker to want to see more. I think that this is ludicrous. Questions on modesty have lead certain institutions to adopt standards of dress that seek to promote an environment of high dress standards. Two of these, namely Southern Adventist University (SAU) and Wichita State University (WSU), have to a certain degree, similarly modest dress codes. However, the reasons, purposes, and situations for which this code is applied differ between the two Universities. 

SAU has adopted the dress code for the reasons outlined in its handbook. “As a Christian educational institution, Southern has established a dress code emphasizing modestly, cleanliness, neatness, and professional appropriateness.” SAU has very strong spiritual implications for the code of dress. SAU has come to the conclusion that in order to promote a society of spiritual growth, it is best to avoid the distractions that come with immodest dress. Students should learn how to dress appropriately so that when they leave the campus, their fashion can be a Christian testimony to the world. WSU has adopted the dress code for a vastly different reason. (Although SAU does claim this as one of their reasons it is not their primary focus.) The purpose of the dress code at WSU is to look professional at job interviews. Both Universities have similar specific rules such as: modest skirts for women, no baggy pants for men, and both should keep sleeveless and sloppy clothing at home. Although they differ in their policies of jewelry, makeup, etc., they both seem to agree that a better social experience is created with the enforcement of a modest dress code.

Dressing modestly is not always easy in our present time. It even may be a bit distasteful or even aggravating, yet the fact remains that modesty encourages a better Christian experience and professional life on campus. Though not always easy or pleasant, a good dress code has, from my experience, enhanced spiritual life here at SAU. Although WSU may not require a dress code for every occasion, it certainly benefits the people who apply for jobs. In the world of business, or any line of professional work, there is a set standard for good dressing habits. Even though there are slight variations on the different dress codes, both SAU and WSU help benefit students for a better life tomorrow. 

Pathway

High school is done.
A new road begins and I have taken the first step.
I do not know where this road will lead, but I know one thing, direction.
That's the thing with roads, you cant determine the outcome, but you always can choose the road.
I am choosing a high road, and I don't want to go back.
To leave behind what I have is hard, right and good.
To leave it behind and move forward becoming stronger is harder, still right and best.
The feet hit the ground, the dust is stirred and all that is left from where I began is a footprint.
A simple reminder that I have already gone through, and have no need of treading there again.

Life at its best

It was past ten. All the lights were out, and there was peace. Under the beautiful canopy of the stars two friends camped in the comfort of their mattresses. Suddenly one spoke, "Why did his light just turn on"? They sat there and looked. A strange sight for sure. First the a boy, the occupant of a certain room, took one widow out. Then a long piece of duck tape was ripped off and the screen also came out. A small black object was placed on the widow. The lights then went out. The two friends thought to themselves, "Surly it is a bomb". One turned to the other and asked forgiveness of any grievances he might have committed against his friend. The one had an excellent idea, jumped up and ran into the building. Moments later he entered the room of the suspect and in a deep voice called his name. The poor boy had just finished placing the widow back in and was pleasantly frightened. In the end the strange object was not a bomb, but a camera. The boy was simply trying to take pictures of the stars.

I was walking down the road with my good friend Esra. Passing a lilac bush I glanced at my friend and said, "Hey I should pick one and give it to Beth".
"Ok, that would be great, but what if I gave one to Beth and you gave one to my cousin Agnus."
"Sure, sounds splendid."
The lilac bush belongs to a dear lady who also heads the student life department.
Just as we finished speaking, a sweet voice was heard.
"Go ahead and take as many of my lilacs as you want, I have a lot."
As Mrs. Roque spoke, Esra seamed to have sacrificed his ability to on the alter of uncontrollable laughter. I managed to somehow mutter the fact that I was simply joking and continued walking.

Esra had agreed to do worship this evening about ten minutes before the time. It was a good worship though, and he refreshed us all with important things to ponder. He gave us a challenge and that was to stop thinking and talking about ourselves. To move from a "me" centered lifestyle to an "others" centered one. I want to take it on, will you.

Silence

Often we are presented with many problems in life. In most of these times silence is eloquence. Recently a problem occurred on my blog, a dear friend of mine posted for me without my approval. I sincerely apologize and I will do my best to update ASAP. Have a good nite.

Respaulsibility

I had just stepped into the lobby when Michael Jensen approached me. "So do you think it's wrong to vote?" I was silent and then mentioned that I was not sure. That was about a year ago, and it wasn't until now that I came to a definite conclusion. 

Many people, if asked that very question, would not understand why there had to be any problem. However, there are multiple reasons why as a Christian and specifically an Adventist, I should be cautious in regards to this subject. 

Rome was oppressing the Jewish nation, and the Jews were tired of it. They were hoping, praying, and looking for someone who would deliver them. That is why the nation stirred with excitement, when a young man promised to deliver them. Jesus mission was not to deliver the Jews from the Romans, however, but from sin. The people did not understand that, and Jesus shocked the nation with His teaching. Jesus' teachings destroyed the foundation of thought that the people had built their traditions on. He made statements that were clear, unheard of, and very controversial: "Blessed are the poor," "Before Abraham, I am," and "My kingdom is not of this world." Not of this world? 

The Jews struggled to grasp the meaning of a kingdom "not of this world", and we today, still do. This statement is often considered when people approach the topic of voting within our church. If the God we serve has initiated us into a kingdom "not of this world", then how can we take part in the affairs of this world? 

Does the Bible not give more insight as to how we are to relate with the world? Is the Bible wholly and completely void on the subject of a Christians relationship with the government? No!

 Jesus was once confronted on the issue of taxes. A man asked if it was right to pay taxes to Rome. Jews hated Rome, and taxes were not an exemption from this hatred. Jesus answered the question by saying to give to Rome what belongs to it, taxes, and to God what belongs to God. There is something the government controls, Jesus was saying, and you should respect that. Complimenting that, Paul writes in the book of Romas chapter thirteen, that government was ordained by God, and we should honor the government. 

With choices come responsibility. If we choose to eat certain foods, we are responsible for the result it produces, whether good or bad. It is the same with thoughts, words, and actions. Voting is also a choice that comes with responsibility. When someone votes, they are responsible for the results that come about from their vote. The people of Germany democratically elected Adolf Hitler and reaped the results of their vote. Democratic nations are run by the people. The vote of the majority runs the government. If people do not vote, then democracy fails. America is a republic, and the vote is the determining factor for the success of the nation. 

To vote is a responsibility. However, if you are not willing to take the responsibility in voting, you are still responsible for decisions. As an example, imagine that a proposition is put forth to the people regarding the legalization of prostitution. You, who presumably does not support prostitution, decide that you don't think it is necessary to take part in politics, and as a result do not vote. (Or maybe you are simply feeling too lazy to vote.) If for some strange reason the proposition is voted on favorably and is made law, you are then responsible for not taking action against it. When someone says that they will not vote because they don't want to get involved, they are involved. They are involved helping the side they are not bold enough to speak against. Voting is neither wrong nor a light matter. It is a serious responsibility, a right that was zealously fought for, and a solemn action. 

You can not with safety vote for just anything. Voting for what you believe is a service that you "render unto Caesar" and is part of the duty the people owe the government. When your vote is cast and it produces detrimental results to the nation, you are partly responsible for the downfall. Every decision in life must be considered with thoroughness, and the vote is no exception. 

So is voting wrong? No. But you can make it a wrong choice. Is it good. Yes, if you vote for the benefit of the country as you see fit for the country. Remember, in this country the people run the government. You can change that with your vote, or even the lack of your vote. The bottom line is that voting is a big responsibility, and if you vote you must be ready to except the results, both bad and good, as your own making. 

Voting is a responsibility, vote responsibly. 

Are You Free?

Four feet meet, they are ignorant of the vice and corruption they carry about. Far above in a reality that is inconceivably evil, two hands meet. A trade is made, the deal is done. The light reveals a poor and once innocent child, now destitute of life, pleasure or the assurance of love. If she was being watched, and the horor of the moment caused a sickening silence to the watcher, the silence is now interrupted. A cloth washed in the sweat, dirt, tears and blood of so many before her is forced between the lips, sealing off the last scream that might grant her rescue. With a blow to the head, she falls to the ground. She wakes up in a cold, dark room. When darkness fades into its boundless realm, it seems to taunt her with realizations that she is trapped, nowhere to go. The years pass, people come and go from that room. Into her heart are etched memories of brutality, debauchery, and cold-blooded apathy. They provoke her thoughts to dispare, they torment her very existence, and in place of fear, she has guilt. Believing it to be her fault, believing that she was the cause of all this sorrow, emptiness, and horror, she decides to quite. The pander takes a cloth, a cloth once used to silence her screams, and silences the blood off the cement. The cold floor seems to mirror the heart of this man, he carelessly casts aside the blood-ridden cloth of his own making. He steps outside. Who is next?

Smoke ascends to the once clear sky. Painted on the earths blue backdrop is the remnants of a once peaceful village, no more peaceful or inhabited however, all dead or gone. Cries of war are heard in the distance. Chains clatter, a chapter closes, past comfort is no more. The sight of mother and father both slaughtered before his eyes, keeps him from feeling the real pain clasped about his neck, hands and ankles. Brutally forced into a distant land, he toils countless hours. His back aches from the continual strain of beatings and oppressive heat. The Cocca must be harvested, and comfort is not an excuses for respite. Eighteen hour days for fifteen years, completes the young and once healthy, happy boy's existence. No funeral, no mourning, just more Cocca. The cycle goes on, and does not end.

Then there is you. An everlasting chain of guilt, discouragement, fear and fill in the blank, makes it clear, you are a slave. Searching for satisfaction, deliverance and purpose, you fall deeper and deeper into slavery. We are all chasing wind. Grasping for something that is impossible to hold. The very thing we want, we can't seem have. The girl in prostitution is a reality. The boy in slavery is a very real occurrence. And yes, you are a slave, but to who? Yourself. Humanity stubbles in darkness, longing for light. Many do not realize they need to be delivered, but their cold blood spilt on the ground is a testament to their search.

So where are you? Will you chase wind? Will you realize that you are in need of deliverance before your death tells the world that you were. You can be delivered.

That cloth of sweat, dirt, tears, and blood must be taken from every girls mouth. The evil of this world can not go on. The slaves on Cocca plantations, and the slaves in our very own neighborhood, they must be delivered. And you. You too, must be set free.

Respect

"Where?"
"Prince (I forget which one)"
"That is where?"
"Northern B.C."
"So...like the North Pole?"
"I guess."

It was the first day of school; meeting people is always so exciting. This exchange happened with a soft-spoken, mature freshmen, Sierra. A perpetual smile seemed to inhabit her face. Never finding a moment to say goodbye to its abode, save the times which sympathy demanded of genuine concern to make good of its spot.

Our paths seldom crossed throughout that year, but what she did was seldom missed by anyones observation. We all were young in those days: mischief, adventure, drama, and laughter dominated our every motive for being. Reckless as I was and foolish as most of her class was, she stood apart. Like one last ray of sun in a fading twilight, or the concluding flicker to a candles last breath, she was there offering hope for a hopeless situation.

Sierra taught me that situations can't overcome you, if you do not believe failure to be an option. She has always stood apart, as one who is quiet, but when biden to speak, will speak. What she says will not be taken lightly, because it is powerful, embedded with meaning, and full of purpose.

I respect her not because she demands respect, but because that is the natural consequence of who she is. A man is respected, when he shows that he respects others and himself. It occurred to me, that when I act stupid, trying to be who I am not, I am disrespectful. Even putting on a masquerade, we all do it in an attempt to hide pain, disrespects who we are because we are lying to the world around us. No, we should not go around telling people that we are feeling terrible, the results to that would be far more detrimental then a facade. However, to tell people that you are having a great day, but in reality your friend has cancer and you feel like murdering someone, is dishonest. There is a balance we each have to understand individually on how to handle these situations.

As the years have passed, I have seen Sierra grow, maturing in Christ and life in general. The influence she has on the school is inspirational, and the legacy she will leave is commendable.

We sat together at lunch one day.

"So do you have internet up there?"
"Yes."
"Seriously."
"What about cars, or do you still use dog sleds?"
"Cars, Moses, and no we do not live in igloos."

The conversation went on; I thought of how much I stereotype cultures. Is that how she does it, could it be that she sees everyone equally?

Thats what Christ does too. All covered, all loved and all equal. That is respect.

We are all equal and equally respected at that.

CNN.

Think liberal for one moment. What did you think of? I thought of CNN. I read CNN only because it covers more then foxnews.com. Today, as I was browsing through its contents, I came across what I consider the most excellent article they have published as of yet.

So real. Tell me what you think.

http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2012/02/25/my-take-stop-sugarcoating-the-bible/?hpt=hp_c3


Before I forget there is an interesting website...http://eliaswittenberg.wordpress.com/....check it out. 

Godfrie

Bowing heavily under its burden the shopping cart faithfully edged forward. Loaded past the maximum weight or caring capacity, this was no small task for the poor inanimate creature. The cart's tenacious master was not as cruel as might be pictured, but was certainly not in any better condition then the cart itself. Face: engulfed in hair, clothes: laden with dirt and water, and the body oder was the closest one could get to experiencing a life-altering stench. In no terms was this man capable of being described as normal, and so all thought who met him.

Whatever the case may have been regarding his apperance or the apperance of his belongings, the most intriging part of it all was that they were now plodding ever so confidently down the driveway, aimed directly for the house. 

The Brousson family is a second family to me. Not to long ago, I spent the weekend with them. Sleeping in, eating, driving around, shopping, laughing, and talking, we had so much fun. However, the highlight of the weekend came on an early Sabbath morning. 

Dad Brousson had found the man while taking an early morning walk. After much pursuasion the man consented to come in the house. Clothes soaked more then not, told the story of a long night under the cover of a merciless rainstorm. The outer garments were removed and placed by the fire while the man was escorted to the nearest availible shower. New clothes were put on his back, and he was seated to enjoy a hearty and healthy breakfast. Godfrie was his name. A very nice man, yet sadly sticken with an inebt handle of life. (Undoubtibly, the indirect result of the pension the Canadian government gave him.) 

The chatter that filled the room slowed as the food was cleared off the table. Then one who I look up to as an angelic image of excellence, my sister Becky, entered. She sweetly offered to alleviate the poor man of what could have been mistaken as the talons of an exotic scavenger fowl. He must have broken his fingernail trimmers a while back. I couldn't blame him since he had moved about ten times and covered hundreds of miles, on foot, all in the past month. As Becky bent over, somehow enduring the stench that had escaped the horrors of the recent shower, I thought of Christ. Bent over washing scum. 

Humiliating. 

Me and Joel slipped outside. The brisk morning air took my breath away, or what I had left of it. The trailer was hitched to the pickup and on it, we loaded the man's cart: pepsi cans, bottles, junk and all. A tarp covered it from the view of all who might pass. We climed into the veichile, Dad went in the back with Godfrie. Becky masked the air in the front with her exquisite perfume, thus allowing me and my dear driver, Joel, to breathe. 

Headed to church, we left Godfrie at the local bottle return venue along with extra cash for the immediate acquisition of a haircut.

The road to church was a blur as I contemplated, "what had just happened?" 

I had seen Christ. In Becky, in dad, and also in Godfrie, God was there. That morning knocked me in the head and created within me a deeper understanding of who God really is. 

He may have not appeared normal, but Godfrie was God's method of saying to me, "I am to you as much as you respect the least of my children." A Child of God. Godfrie? Yes! And so am I! Of course Godfrie is not normal, he is beyond that - a child of my Creator. 

Awesome!

"And the King shall answer and say unto them, 'Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me.'" Matthew 25:40

Joel Becki Me Godfrie

The Swan

The lake is crystal clear, with faint reflections of graceful beauty that is found in the sky above. Turquoise gently creeps up and sprinkles the viewer with a clear kiss as if to say, "Come play with me you lovely person." Suddenly, the still silence is shattered by a splash. Hee-Haw! No, it is not a donkey.

Swan.

Not the angelic animal that glides over the crystal surface of a beautiful lake, but a sweet part Asian-part white intelligent specimen of the male gender. Micah Swensen. One day he will learn how to stay on the inside of a canoe without being drawn outside as if guided by a new law of nature to do so.

I call him "Swan." I was at my friends house durning the summer, when they informed me of a new student coming to my school. He was from the same city as me, Loma Linda, and cousin to a most controversial figure, Wayanne Watson. I thought he was great before I even met him. Facebook revealed to me that he was good friends with my cousin, and anyone who is friends with my cousin, has to be really, really cool.

First day of school rolled around, and there was the Swan perched on the sofa with an air about him that seemed to have said he didnt want any redness to come through his skin. I approached him, said hi and met Mom. We chatted about the various regulations Swan was to be subject to for the next three years and then parted ways. I saw him next on the same couch, no mom present, engroused in a book. This scene repeated itself for many weeks, then, well, I guess it stopped.

Micah has taught me to be sensative. People who are hurting have the reception of his sympathy. I cannot bring myself to understand his love of the cold, but inside his heart, he is warm. Just this morning, Swan was overcome by compassion and in the middle of my breakfast said, "Lets pray for that person."

Swan, you mean so much to me and many people here. Never forget that you are special. (That was supposed to be a positive comment.) The world cries out for men that will care for it. You have answered the cry of humanity, and you have answered with kindness, love, and compassion.

Splash! Your head turns again to the scene of your disruption. The Swan appeares to attempt an airborn stunt, only to fall again, creating ripples that are felt the lake over, influencing every corner with its effects.

Forgotten

In life's happiest moments, remember.

In the hardest times of your experience, remember.

This too shall pass.

Compassion

There is a young man who lives in the room directly in front of me. He is a man of tall stature and lean features. Intelligent, graceful, neat, and intuitive, all encompasses a broad perspective of what he is all about. Whenever I walk into his room, a whole concoction of excellent smells fill my senses with a delightful memory of lovely events. If I am stressed, his room provides a pleasant resort to escape to from life's hard expectations. He is a patient friend, a listening ear, a gracious host, and best of all compassionate.

His name is Mason Neil.

Mason has come a long long way since I first met him. It was my Junior year, and first camp-out was in full play. I saw the man sitting on a log, chatting in a friendly manner.

The first real conversation I had with him consisted of me advising him to not hang out with girls as much. I know, I can be very nice at times.

Throughout the years, I have seen how great of a leader Mason can be. When I am tempted to violate a rule, he cautiously prods me in the other direction. He can be very bold at times, standing for what he believes even when it is unpopular.

He can crochet, knit, and design in a profound fashion. The artistic characteristics within him spill out into a cacophony of excellence that all people can find joy in seeing.

The thing that hits me most about Mason, is his simplistic compassion. He uses what he has and changes lives. The talent of writing is manifest in his life, and this he uses strongly to express his feelings: happy, sad, angry, lively, love. He loves God and writes about it. By the grace of God, people have been drawn closer to Him because of that.

What is in my hand that I can use. What is in yours?

Making vapour solid.

Let me tell you all a funny story.
I am not an avid hiker, nor do I like hiking. In fact I detest hiking very much. However, I do enjoy camping. Just plopping down in the great outdoors near a fire, and sleeping while John Cho keeps it going. Bless his soul, he is a kind man.

Besides not liking to hike, I really do not like Blaylock weekends. I gain no benefits, and am thoroughly board the entire time. True, I can count it all joy in those situations, but I still have a great distaste for it all. I rather do almost anything, even hiking to some far of place for the weekend, to get away from it.

Well, when I heard that Blaylock was coming this weekend, I began begging and pleading various staff members to take me camping for the weekend. No one is ever willing to stand up and take me. They always say, "Go talk to Craig."

When I heard that Blaylock was cancelled, I was elated. I completely forgot about any camping ideas. That is until Mr. James came up to me and asked if I wanted to go. I sat there in complete shock for about 10 seconds until I mumbled a few lame excuses. Mr. James looked at me and walked away.

Maybe I will go camping someday.

As I was writing this, I began to think about how sicking this scenario can be in different situations. When hard times come my way, I often wish that I may be liberated from them. In my haste to avoid trouble, I promise God that I would rather do anything to get out of it. Sometimes God answers my plea. I am delivered, and what happens? I forget all about my many promises of vapour.

Running of content that there is nothing to worry about, I leave God behind with my empty promises in His hand.