There’s something unexplainably relieving about pouring out your soul on a blank page. All of the hidden thoughts and stifled emotions free to scream what they’ve been dying to whisper. While there is safety in privacy, there is also freedom in honesty. Swing on a swing and sing at the top of your lungs. (Who cares if a 19-year old is playing at the playground?) The ears of man were not meant to hear everything, but God knows your every thought. Expressing them verbally in the form of a prayer is relieving. Remove your Stoic mask and surrender every hope, every thought, every sin, every tear…is there a better place to let go than in the presence of God? Who’s your daddy?

And yet, it has become a last resort. Why? Because my biggest distraction is the man in the mirror. Observation Three: The Plan. What are my mandates? Who will defend the persecuted in their own country…their own household? Who will fight injustice? The world is an injustice to God’s Kingdom. Who am I to think that I alone can fell a dilemma the size of great redwood tree when there are forests of iniquity? Think you can tackle the leviathan? Go fish. How vain is man to think that for even one second, his existence will leave even a fingerprint on eternity! Who’s your daddy now?

And that is the great paradox of Christianity. We swear to give “Daddy” our all; yet, we’re always clutching things like a toddler holding onto his rattle when “Daddy” wants to give us something better. Not all things clutched are inherently evil. Sometimes the greatest sin can be the most virtuous thing; yet, if it distracts and deters from God…it is sin. Even the good can become bad.

That’s the silly thing about evil. Ontologically, evil is nonexistence. We have no definite concept of pure evil and probably never will...but we definitely understand the privations of the Good. The fruit was pleasing to the eye and Satan is alluring; yet, the command to not eat of the fruit is better because holiness is resplendent. A lesser good can be evil because it is still missing the target.

And Cupid’s poisoned arrow flies and buries itself like a thorn in the flesh. The thorn teases, pleads, tempts, pains, and tortures…yet, it is not removed. Oh, the irony! We first stab ourselves with thorns that poison us with Death but then we beg God to eliminate the thorns that only dig deeper. Every man is a walking paradox. I love the thorn.

"You have heard that it was said, 'Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven."

It makes sense. Your greatest concern should not be for those who are persecuted, but for those who persecute. For when time passes away, the persecuted will be praised but the persecutors will be eternally tormented.

Lord, have mercy on me…for every night my rooster crows thrice.

People have asked me why I’ve become a Stoic. Others who know me better know that at best, I’m a fake Stoic.

I think the primary reason why I find Stoicism so appealing is because I am tired of 21^st century “Emo Christianity” that so frequently pervades the Christian church today. The “Emo Christian” is the type of person who hears an emotion sermon or is totally immersed in a passionate worship service and is momentarily on fire for God. Being the humans that we are, our sin nature gets the best of us and predictably, we fall. Emotionally disparaged by our own hypocrisy, we turn to “cutting” ourselves with guilt and depression. Surely there must be more to Christianity than this perpetual roller coaster of human emotions.

Which is why I often “turn” to Stoicism. According to Marcus Aurelius, the Stoic is one who recognizes human emotions; yet, desensitizes his reactions to those emotions. “If you are distressed by any external thing, it is not this thing which disturbs you, but your own judgment about it. And it is in your power to wipe out that judgment now” (Meditations). I think it is admirable to not be fazed by any curveball life throws, and Stoicism gets me there.

Or does it?

“To err is human…” Along those same lines is: “To love, to cry, to smile, to laugh, to be angered (etc.) is human.” We are made in the image of God. I think a facet of His image is emotion, for God (and Christ) show emotions throughout Scripture. “Jesus wept” is one such example. While the Stoic silences his emotions, the perfect God directs his emotions. Direction of emotion is what is necessary to maintain the balance between the “Emo Christian” and the Stoic automaton. Aristotle’s Golden Mean definitely applies to the false dichotomy between emotion and reason. The Christian must unite and direct the two so that they do not run ramped.

What does this look like? This means we are to embrace life…and death. We must raise our hands to the heavens in praise and yet we must clasp our hands in prayer when we sin. We are to be overjoyed in what we have, where we are…and not be depressed by what we lack.

(Sometimes I scream “I love you” into the silent sky. Only God can hear, and yet I am satisfied…for hopefully one day you’ll hear those words. )

Why are clouds in the sky?

I think clouds are suspended in the sky for you.

(Yes, perhaps that is so cliche, but I think it's true. The truth should be cliche because it should be referenced often and is always right, right?)

Realistically, one could assert that clouds are a natural and integral part of the water cycle. Yet, there seems to be something hollow and mechanical about that answer. Beauty seems to be more than a result. Beauty has to be more than the "leftovers" of what is practical. Does practicality make something beautiful or does Beauty make something practical? Are the two necessarily mutually exclusive? 

Hm.

...I do know that God made the clouds for you. God made the stars for you. God made your specific family for you. God made you for you. 

God made a beautiful world for you, because you possess the simple love necessary to cherish Beauty. It's not that your love is simplistic; it's that your love is pure and untainted by cynicism and practicality. Sounds elementary, doesn't it?

Then why do I always forget it?

Singles Awareness Day

This song goes out to all my friends

Those who dream of paper cut-out hearts

And the perfect kiss

This song goes out to all my friends

Those who endure another year of tears

And singleness

I see the ache in your eyes

Longing for someone to hold

I see the tears of your heart

Wanting what will not grow old

I swear I’m only a band-aid

You need Divine surgery

I’m only an evanescent answer

You need a permanent panacea

This song goes out to all my friends

Those impaled by Cupid’s arrows

Blinded by love

This song goes out to all my friends

Those waiting for their Prince Charming

I’m not him

I wrote this song (without the music) tonight when I probably should have been reading. It’s a far cry from brilliance, but it speaks from the heart. 

Oh world, do you not know that one third of my generation is missing to abortion? Where is Derek, the future pastor? Where is Jayne, the future Nobel Peace Prize winner? Where is Chelsea, the future wife and mother of three? Could you not hear their pleas as they cried for mercy when you terminated their young lives? Millions of babies are silenced by selfishness.

Dystopian worlds no longer exist in novels such as 1984 and Brave New World. They are here today. Does eating count as living by extraordinary means? Would dad want to die? Should we yank the cord? Does an incapacitated brain equate a defunct soul? The age of euthanasia has arrived. Get on board. Print out your living will. Write your signature next to the X. Sign your life away. 

An equally egregious action is being blinded to the pain of others. Hear the hollow laughter. Stare into the eyes of hurt. Maybe you’ll see a tear forming if you look closely enough. Most of us are too concerned with our own lives to genuinely care about others.

Forgive us Father, for we know not what we do. Heaven knows I also helped nail Your body to the cross.

Sleep softly, my friend
May God tuck you in a blanket of stars
Dream, dream of heaven
Float into your Father’s arms  

Lucky little baby soaring above
Knowing not the pain you would have suffered
Sorry little baby for this world
For we know not what we do to you 

Sleep softly, my friend
Soon, soon you will find peace again
Close your weary eyes
And see what you have not seen before 

Well done, good and faithful man
You’ve run the race and won the prize
Fly sir, to the clouds
Skip down the streets of Paradise 

Sleep softly my friend
Never force a fake smile on your face again
Take heart my friend
To me you are a godsend