The Philosophy of Prayer

Saturday morning, I woke up in Tampa at 7:30 in the morning and, very soon after, began stocking up the car for the long drive to Ambridge that would elapse two days and roughly 20 hours of traveling time. It didn't help that I felt the inkling of a cold coming on, but what was I to do? Class started back up on Monday and I had papers to write and books to read. My parents were letting me have their old Toyota Avalon because my dad had bought a Cadillac recently at an estate sale for a good price. I was fine with this, since it meant I now had the means to bring my instruments up, which I hadn't even touched since this past May. Once everything was packed, and I had a very filling breakfast, I set out on my drive.

I made stops in Jacksonville, Florida; Savannah, Georgia; and Hartsville, South Carolina. I stayed the night in Hartsville at my friend Rags Coxe's house. In the morning he took me to a very quaint 8 A.M. service at his church for the first Sunday of Advent. Around 9, we left his house and made the drive back to Ambridge, stopping in Virginia for lunch. The trip overall took about 10 hours total due to heavy traffic, which put me back in Ambridge at about 7:15 Sunday night.

If there is one thing I could say about the trip, it's that meeting new people and seeing old friends is the best sort of refreshment to traveling. In Jacksonville, I got to see my friend Michelle Brodeur, whom I was in undergrad with at FSU, and who is now a staff worker for Intervarsity at the school. My friend Sam Kennedy, a fellow seminarian at Trinity, was in Savannah with his family, who were very welcoming and open to me.

When I see people I know from school in their homes, such as Rags and Sam, it helps me to get to know them a little better. It was great to see them in their natural environment, and in Sam's case, around the people he was most comfortable with. It makes people more real, and tends to build a greater respect for them and the way they are.

During my time driving, it was very hard for me to stay focused on much. For one, my throat was getting more sore by the hour, and I was beginning to grow antsy from sitting in the same seat by myself for so long. I tried praying, but it just didn't seem to work out quite as well as I was hoping. My mind was very crowded, but not over any particular concerns. I couldn't think straight about any one thing, I was just stuck in a sort of thought purgatory.

Since I've been back in Ambridge, I have mostly been occupied with schoolwork, both catching up and keeping up. But, one theme seemed to persist: Prayer. In the books I read, and in the talks I had, prayer was always something mentioned. But not just in a general sense. Most of the focus has been on God's power and actions through prayer. I became very convicted of my own prayer life, and the way that I have viewed prayer for a long time. I knew my thinking on it was wrong in an orthodox sense, but I couldn't help to correct my thinking on it. I just couldn't "believe," and I had barely even the faith to ask Jesus to cure my unbelief.

Through my readings and class discussion on Monday, I began to be pushed again in the way I didn't want to. My problem was not my unwillingness to pray, or my unbelief in the power of God, necessarily. But I was not approaching God as he should be approached. I have always had a very rough time viewing God as Father, and not only Father, the Creator, but Father, my father. The lover of my soul, who sent down his Son because of his love. The Prodigal Son, after squandering his father's wealth, came back in a state of shame and did not dare approach his father as he once did. Instead, he knew what he deserved and that was, if lucky, a severe beating. He had disrespected his father and as good as called him dead right to his face. Of course the father wouldn't want to see him again, so he walked toward the house cautiously. But the father did not treat him as he deserved, instead he ran up to the son and pulled his arms around his neck, kissing him with joy.

Now, had the son continued to approach the father so sheepishly, requesting to be a servant because of the shame that he had caused, would that not be the wrong reaction? The father had already accepted him back into his household, and for the son to act in such a way would actually be heaping further shame on the father. No, instead, the son's best response is, in utter thankfulness, return to his status as a son in his father's household and act as such. This is the same way we should approach God in prayer, a way that I have yet to fully comprehend. Jesus was right when he said that one must become like a child to enter into the kingdom because us grown-up types just don't know when to let things go! Children know that their parents will give them what they want, or at least what is in their best interest because they love them. Likewise, God loves all of his children and only wants to see them come to him in that way.

Through approaching God this way, I can feel my confidence in his power growing. God is a powerful god. I want to have the faith to ask and believe that he responds. While talking with my bishop earlier this month, I mentioned that I feel like I know a lot about God, but all I really want is to know him. I don't feel like I've reached a point where I can say in full confidence that I really know God. The only way to do that is to come to him and ask. He will reveal himself to his children. He will run out and embrace the lost son and shower him with joy. All it takes is for us to receive his acceptance and take our place as his children which he has graciously given us in his heavenly household.

Prayer for me has become so much more desirable in these past few days and my times in prayer, though still typically brief, have been filled with love. I find myself growing in excitement as I read spiritual books and Scripture in a way that has been too infrequent recently. The Lord is at work, and it is a glorious thing. I only pray that he will continue to work on my heart and bring me into his still-abounding love in which he created the heavens and the earth.

Praise be to God; Father, Son and Holy Spirit. 

The Philosophy of Rest

Time has been in fluctuation for me over this past month. I haven't had a chance to spend time in rest with all of the things I have had running through my mind. Even while reading and writing papers for my classes, I am lucky if I can manage to focus for much of it and retain the information.

The week of October 17-23 was considered to be "Reading Week" for those of us in the seminary. It is a week that is meant to be utilized for catching up with classwork and also allowing some leisure time for the seminarians. They cancel all classes and campus events for that week and only leave the library open for those who wish to utilize it's resources. I was looking forward to this week as a chance to relax and do some leisure reading I had intended for, but that did not go according to plan. Rather than a "catch-up" week as it was so advertised, it seemed more like a "keep-up" week. On top of the two papers due that week, my classes assigned extra work that took up much of my free time. Of the two books I was hoping to read, I managed to read a single chapter of one on the Sunday of reading week. It was a frustrating time that did not meet expectations.

I found myself throughout this month in a constant state of weariness. Even when I was able to get an ample amount of sleep, I was still worn out through most of the day. I realized that this was because of the burden that I had allowed myself to build up of worry and stress over my classes and financial issues. I couldn't keep up with my work schedule and the long days were beginning to drag me down. I became apathetic toward much of my work and angry toward my professors' expectations and assignments. No matter how much I tried to vent it out with friends, I was never satisfied or calmed. My biggest issues, though, seemed to be internal and spiritual. I was not being fulfilled by what I had around me. I had yet to establish any strong connections with my fellow seminarians, and still had yet to find a church I felt comfortable enough with to make my stay at in the Pittsburgh area.

Eventually, I had to turn to God and allow myself to be relieved by his Spirit alone. I don't what finally drew me there exactly, but at one of the prayer meetings I go to on Monday nights about two weeks ago, I finally relented and revealed my weariness, frustrations and doubts not blaming others for my troubles, but accepting them as my own. During the prayer time, I wondered about my faith and whether I was truly willing to live out my life in service of Christ or whether I really had a sense of his worthiness for such praise. At the very moment I was having this internal struggle, my friend Todd Murden began to pray for me in the group and immediately I felt at peace. I was in shock by the sudden impact of the prayer, and release of the tension that had been held up in me for so long. I struggled with accepting that it was prayer that relieved me, and wanted to find a more "reasonable" explanation. But since that prayer night, I have become much more at peace about everything and have even managed to have some meaningful times with others at the seminary.

My appreciation for those around me who had always been there finally found realization. I was already in the midst of people I can call friends, but it was my own selfish inward focus that kept me from them. I still grow frustrated over my classes, but it is not as intense nor does it last as long. I've found peace through God and acknowledgement of him.

This morning in chapel for Morning Prayer, I ended up coming in early. I sat in the pew and rather uncharacteristically, pulled out the kneeler and repeated a simple prayer, "I am not worthy to receive you. I am unclean. I need you." I said this many times over and finally, I crossed myself and silently petitioned God, "Bless me." Suddenly, I was overcome with love for my fellow chapel attendees. I looked over all of them with an inward smile and a great sense of peace. I wanted to turn around and tell the man behind me that Jesus loves him and he is my brother. That is the kind of love that overflowed onto me through such a simple prayer, and this time, it not followed by a question of its source. That morning prayer for me was filled with joy. My friend Todd, who had been the one to pray for me at the prayer meeting was the preacher that morning, and he preached about the call to prophecy and the presence of the Holy Spirit in a powerful and moving way.

I spent the rest of the morning finishing up class assignments while intermittently talking with some friends in the same part of the library as myself. Then, in my Spiritual Formation class this afternoon, we appropriately went over the Rites for Confession in the prayer book. While reading through the proclamation for forgiveness in Form II, I felt a welling up of joy within me. I was finally able to accept God's forgiveness and do so in a real way. I felt truly thankful for everything I had around me and the glory of God. This was a great culmination of all that had been working inside of me recently. I was seeking for rest by escaping from my responsibilities and frustrations, but by simply turning to God, I was able to find real rest and real peace.

Until about two weeks ago when I went to that prayer meeting with true vulnerability and inexplicable repentance, this was one of the more frustrating months for me in recent memory. But, from that night, I have developed an awareness of God's grace that will hopefully only continue to grow. I have made an intentional effort to keep the Sabbath, resting on the past two Sundays and not allowing myself to do work, and it has been a real blessing for me. Looking forward, I hope to continue on this way toward rest and become more committed to the prayer of faith and finding my rest in the Lord.

The Philosophy of Simpleness

Probably the most common compliment I receive from customers at work is about the cross I wear around my neck. It is a simple wooden cross tied to a black thread, with nothing about it that would stand out. In fact, it came apart once already, and I had to superglue it back together. I always thought the story of how I got this cross would make for a great sermon illustration should that time ever come.

Way back when, while I was still in school at Florida State, I went out to lunch with my friend Hannah Nelson. We went to Pitaria, a Greek-style restaurant and local favorite of the Tallahassee college community to catch up on how each of our lives had been going. After lunch, we headed back toward the parking lot behind the building, and a homeless man was sitting down on the edge of the window outside Gumby's Pizza, which was right next door to Pitaria. He stopped us, and asked us if we could spare some change for him to buy something to eat. I saw that he had a pack of beer sitting on the ground next to him, so I offered, rather, to buy him a meal instead. He gratefully accepted, and we walked back in to Pitaria, where he ordered his meal and I paid. We sat down with him once he found a table, and he seemed pretty perplexed as to why we stayed with him after paying for his meal, and even told us we could leave if we wanted to. Instead, we opted to sit with him as he ate his meal, and asked about where he came from and what he was doing in Tallahassee.

As the story goes, he was a wanderer named John Brown from another part of the country (I can't remember where), and he had been traveling for a long time before landing in Tallahassee. When he finished the meal, he wanted to pay me back in some way, but I told him that it wasn't necessary. He kept insisting, trying to find something that he can pay me back with, emptying out all his pockets. Eventually, he took off the cross that hung around his neck. He said that a pastor had given it to him in another town he passed through, but that he wanted me to have it. At first I was hesitant, but received the cross from him and pulled it down around my own neck.

The thoughts that stemmed from this transaction didn't come until a little while later. At first, I just thought it was nice to have a cross since the thread of my last one had snapped, though the thought of what kind of germs could be infesting its beams did happen to come to mind. But it was those very "icky" things about it that ended up giving it a real value for me. The cross around my neck was now more than just a symbol that I follow Jesus, it was an embodiment of the true Cross, itself. When I put the cross on around my neck, I put on also all of the dirt and grime of John. No doubt, his sweat had soaked into the string as he walked down the Florida streets in the Summer heat, and the dirt of the park benches he slept on, at least in part, had crusted over the its pegs.

Isn't this the message of the Cross? That on the Cross, Jesus took on our dirt and grime and carried it himself. The toil and burdens that brought us to the place where we were in need of his help. He gave us the gift of sacrifice in the ultimate payment of death (much greater than the price of a lunch), and in return, all we had to offer back was our dirt, sweat and tears; the unsightliness that makes others glare and cringe at the sight of us. We emptied out our pockets only to find bent bottle caps and paperclips, and nothing else to pay back for what he has given us.

It does amaze me, though, that the simple wooden cross around my neck would continually garner compliments from passersby. It is not made of gold, it has no jewels, and does not hang on a finely woven chain. And yet, it impresses. It draws attention. I think it is this simpleness that truly reflects the gospel life. For, "all flesh is like grass and all its glory like the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower falls, but the word of the Lord remains forever."

Usually, when we seek attention for ourselves, we tend to run to those things that would be considered "flashy" but the attention that it draws is fleeting, and only lasts as long as those things we are using to gain it. If we want to attract others using our wealth, they will come only so long as we have our wealth. If we want to attract others with beauty, they will only come so long as we have our beauty. But if, instead, we shed those things and embrace the simpleness of the Cross, people will come for the authenticity found in such simpleness.

The gospel message, itself, is simple. That we cannot attract or pay back to God with the things we have. But, that instead what we must give him are the very things which make us cursed; our sinfulness and disobedience. "For God so loved the world that he sent his only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life." And the love of God does not come from our merit, but from our need. He longs to take care of us, and knows that we have nothing to impress him with. Instead, Jesus took upon himself the Cross which bore all of our sin and died for the sake of us. It is this act which brings him honor and and glory and praise from all peoples. It is the shedding of himself, the act of giving up his life for our sake which draws the world to him. It is with this act that he is raised and glorified in the highest degree and is seated at the right hand of God the Father.

What brings people to everlasting life is not the miracles and wonders and signs, but the Cross. The thing that brings glory in resurrection is not money and deeds, but submission to the Cross. Jesus submitted himself to the will of the Father, and "made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men." All glory apart from this is vainglory and only a means of covering up our true selves from the sight of the world. But, the Gospel calls us to throw out all of this cover-up, and come to Jesus fully exposed, and allow him to cover us instead with his own glory, the glory which will never fade.

So then, what is it that draws us to simplicity? It is the freedom that comes with full exposure. It is knowing that we do not need to prove ourselves or exalt ourselves in the eyes of others. Instead, we come to the Cross as sinful, lowly creatures, and become aware of the vast void between us and God that has been created by our sin. That void, we continually try to fill, as if we were the children of a parent that only acknowledges those they deem worthy. But, Jesus is the only worthy one, and by his act, he has filled the void and given us access to the love of the One True God. By his taking on our sinfulness, we put on his righteousness.

The Cross is a call to step into the light of God and allow our sinful bodies to be exposed and shown for what they are. Rather than being covered with distracting gold and jewels, the Cross is bare, covered only in blood and sweat and grime. The cross is not a glorious thing, but the simplicity of the Cross brings glory through its vileness. By placing our burdens at the foot of the Cross, we can be free of the weight of the need for approval, knowing that we have already received the ultimate gift which cannot be paid back. Instead, all we are called to do is take off our covers and come in to the Light of the World, that we may finally receive life; and not by our own merits, but by the mercies and love of God.

The Philosophy of Focus

As one would figure, taking four seminary classes and working 20 hours a week can be a bit overwhelming. This past week was very stressful. I worked four hours Monday from 9 to 1, then had class directly after that until 4:15. Tuesday I had classes all day, and Wednesday ended up being much more packed than I had expected. In the morning, we had Eucharist in the campus chapel, then we had our 'class' meetings. Directly after our class meeting we had to go to our Advisee groups, which will continue to meet throughout the semester and finally I worked four more hours, from 1 to 5 this time.

On Thursday, after my class in the morning, I went to the library to go over all of the things I have to do. Readings, worksheets, quizzes, papers... it seemed like far too much. On top of that, half of the things I had to do weren't even things we had covered in class. I spent five to six hours in the library trying to make a dent in the massive amounts of schoolwork I had to get done, and left feeling like I hadn't managed much at all. Friday, I had to work all day, from 9 to 7, so I didn't have a chance to do any more of the work I had left.

That night I sat in my house, playing guitar and doing my best to keep my mind off of all that was left to be completed. I got to bed near midnight or 30 after, and the next morning, went back in to work for my three hour shift from 9 to 12. When I got home, I laid myself down in bed and got a little rest in before going back to the books. It was during this time that I was able to finally calm down and think clearly about what had to be done. I hadn't eaten since lunch the previous day, so the first thing I did was go down to the kitchen and eat. I then packed my stuff and walked down to the library. With my clearer state of mind, I allowed myself to focus on just one thing at a time. I decided only to work on my Early Church readings, which I would need to turn a quiz on before the next class for and not busy myself with anything else for the moment. I did about an hour of work, which got me through half of the required readings (I could only do this much because the library closes four hours earlier on Saturdays which I didn't know), and then I went home and studied the vocabulary for my Hebrew quiz this coming week.

Though I spent much less time doing my work, I felt much more accomplished than I had in my previous visit to the library. Divvying up the work allowed me to free myself of the hassle of the whole load, and focus on just a small portion of it at a time. Without the constant distraction of what else had to be done, I could take my time and do my work without worrying about what else had to be done. Today after church, I finished the readings I have for my Spiritual Formation class tomorrow, and will probably do some more later tonight for my Biblical Interpretation class. I will then finish up my Early Church readings tomorrow after class is finished, and not worry about my World Missions readings until after those are completed (it isn't until Thursday).

It's amazing how easy it is to be overwhelmed and how, with a little time and focus, those burdens can be chipped away at quite easily. I would like to say that this philosophy could apply to all of life. A lot of times we can only see the big picture of things; how everything is going wrong all the time. But worrying has never added a day to our lives, so it is important not to get too caught up by the pressures of all that needs to be done. Instead, we just need to take our burdens-- and life-- one step at a time. Complete the first task and then move on to the next. To know that trying to finish everything at once will only make things worse.

Also, it is important to rely on others to help you through the hard times. Having somebody else there for you can keep you sane long enough to figure out what needs to be done. Friday night, before going up to bed, my roommate came home and we talked for a good bit of time about all that I had to get done. Just having someone who would listen was help enough for me, and he also gave me encouragement to get through it. We must never forget that we have others around us to help along the way. And also that there are others who need our help as well.

This coming semester (and presumably the next three years) is not going to let up. I will continue to have this work schedule, and my class will only get more intense as time wears on. But, I must remember to take this one step at a time. I did not go to seminary to be burdened, but to learn and grow. It is easy to get caught up with the workload and only see what needs to get done. But, then I would forget the purpose behind these classes. My goal doesn't lie somewhere far beyond seminary, but within and through it.  This is not a trial on the way to my true calling, but a very integral part of that very calling. These are formative years, where my spiritual and intellectual understanding can reach new heights. But, if I only remain worried about what I need to do and not the reason behind why I am doing it, it will all be for naught. I will not have learned anything, but only received a degree; a piece of paper that says I went to school for the required number of hours.

Taken a step at a time, we can explore the depths of those things which we call burdens and see them as blessings-- or at the very least, as lessons we can carry with us the rest of our lives. All it takes is the focus and clarity that comes with a rational mindset. We must rest ourselves and come at them in a calmed manner, so that we can do all things-- one step at a time.

The Philosophy of Responsibility

Well, it's the end of my last week of Summer. I officially begin classes next Tuesday, as Labor Day is next Monday. I've so far memorized half of the Hebrew Alephbet, and made photocopies of the sections I need to read for Early Church History (selections from Clement and a chapter on the evolution of the early church).

To be entirely honest, I am ready to jump into things. Not only is the prospect of getting back into the classroom exciting to me, but this is what I've been waiting a year to accomplish. I am finally where I need to be and content with it. I did manage to nab a job working at the Credit Union around the corner. They employ seminarians regularly, and so are very flexible with their hours. Working there will also allow me to have nights off for studying or rest if needed.

The story of how I got the job is actually quite interesting. I turned in my application on a Thursday or Friday while the manager was out of town, so one of the other employees set it on her desk. When she returned at the end of the weekend, one of the tellers gave a two-week notice that she was leaving. Early that next week, I was called in for an interview, and accepted by that Thursday. I started working the following Monday full-time for training, and am about to finish my second full week of work. After this week, I will be working part-time to fit my class schedule. It really was a blessing for me to get this job, and I have done well so far. Tomorrow is going to be my longest shift (and one I will most likely end up working over the next semester). It is ten hours, from 9AM to 7(:30)PM. It's also the second of the month, which means everyone who got their Social Security checks will be coming in to cash out.

Being in a new place, and having a full-time (albeit temporarily) job has really revealed the burden of the responsibilities of adulthood. Having yet to receive my first paycheck, and yet considering all of the payment I will need to make over the coming months and years, I have had a lingering anxiety following me around. I know that all will be provided and that I am not in dire straits by any means, but there is still the peripheral fear that I will not be able to support myself over these next few years of schooling. I see that this fear is something that will always be there, continuing beyond graduation and into my adult life. Now, the question is what to do about that fear. I cannot allow it to consume me, nor can I ignore it. It requires acknowledgement and acceptance. But, it must not be given right to reign.

I think a major part of this fear is that responsibility will pull me away from fulfillment. With the mounting pressure of daily life's needs, it is easy to lose focus and just work on managing to "get by." Soon, that becomes enough, and the dreams we once had are thrown to the wayside. I hope to not fall into this trap, but to continue to seek fulfillment and get the most out of the life I have been given. We were not put on this earth simply to toil and tirelessly work toward sustainability. That has already been given to us. We need only God and his provisions. What we work for should be more than our own well-being. It should be for something beyond our material lives. What we must work toward are things spiritual and life-giving. Not the worries and stress that literally take that very life we are working for away from us. Now, this is much easier to say than to do, especially in such a blessed situation as my own, where my actual real-life responsibilities are admittedly limited. But, I don't think that should take away from the principle of the idea. What is the worth of a life lived only to live; only to keep breathing and have another day of the same pressure-filled routine? Life shouldn't be spent in fear, but in joy. The only way to find joy is to seek out fulfillment by that which fills all in all.

Again, this is not to say one should shirk all responsibilities and only go after that which they want. But, everything has it's own place in priority, and I don't think things which elicit fear should be at the top. I hope to maintain that focus and resolution, separating what I truly need from the temporary burdens. Eternal from the transient. The reason the Good Shepherd lays down his life is that his flock may have life abundant. It is our responsibility to follow that purpose, and do more than just live. There is a higher calling and greater purpose than what we can see right now. We are bludgeoned by all the disruptions of the world, but cannot let that turn our eyes downward. Troubles will come and distress will find its way in. But, as with all things, "this too shall pass." What we need is that which will not pass away. That is the love of God and the new life which he has made available to us through that love.

That said, the coming semester in seminary, though daunting, carries a new excitement in me for things to come. My experiences and revelations throughout this process will undoubtedly shape who I am for the rest of my life. I am sure to meet new friends and forge bonds that will last a lifetime. Hopefully, I will also be able to sharpen my focus on that which truly matters, and not be controlled by fear, but driven by joy.

The Philosophy of Moving (On)

I was finally able to get all of my current belongings into what will soon be my room over the next year. And for two nights I've slept in my own bed. It still feels strange living in Ambridge. It doesn't feel like home-- not yet, anyway. The town is a new entity compared to the other places I've been. The overall population barely breaks 7000, and it's easy to tell when traversing the barren streets of closed shops and run down bars. The school I will be going to, Trinity School for Ministry has a student body of around 100, and the incoming class will be of about 30. It seems that I'll be getting to know my classmates quite well over the next three years.

It is a peaceful place, though. It's quiet, and I like that. I look forward to living through one of these northern winters to really see what it's like. For this, I will need to find a nice coat and boots. For that, I will be needing money. I have been on the hunt for a job in the Ambridge area. Unfortunately, there don't seem to be too many opportunities around town. I applied to a local CVS as a pharmacy tech, and a bank that tends to employ many seminarians from the school. I may end up needing to buy a car to work in the greater Pittsburgh area, though. There are many places hiring, but they are all about twenty minutes away by car. I'll probably try going out there in this next week to see if I can find a place that will hire me, as well as a cheap car to make the commute.

Every now and then I get a little nostalgic. I do miss my old homes in Tallahassee and Tampa. My family and friends are far enough away that a weekend trip would take months of preparation. But, it does have a cathartic feel to it. I have reached a place where the only way to move is forward. I can't turn back now. It's freeing, in a sense. I've made my decision, and I'm sticking with it. I need to learn to be content with not knowing where my life is ultimately headed, and remain confident in the decisions I have made up until now without trying to preemptively prepare for what's coming next.

It seems that there is a necessary conflict of emotion that comes with moving somewhere new. Moreover, this conflict is increased by the addition of the new life changes of moving forward that undoubtedly come along with it. There is enchantment at what might come and what might be learned. The excitement of new beginnings and discoveries which drives our hearts toward new loves. But beneath all this, there is the unsettling sense of fear that what will come might not be what you had expected. The worry that you will find where you are is not where you belong. The only way to cope with these emotions is to maintain the hope which brought you there. Without hope, we cannot look forward, but must close our eyes to possibility. It is hope which drives us and hope which changes the seemingly ill fated. Hope drives action and makes it worthwhile. I must hope to find my place here and where I belong in the midst of it.

Right now, I have passed the stage of wonderment. I am decently settled in my new house and have met many new faces, some of whom may end up becoming close friends. And this is the turning point. I need to keep my eyes pointed forward and not worry of the things I cannot know.

This next step in life is full of uncertainty. But, I shall move on by hope. Hope that my life will be changed by my experiences and that I will discern my rightful calling. I will no longer dream of the future that could be, but live toward the future that will.

Pray for me, friends. My heart aches from the weariness of dreaming. I am ready to achieve my reality.

The Philosophy of Packing

It only took a day to sort through everything I owned and decide on what to bring with me on the move. As I looked through the plastic moving bins, taking out and putting in knick-knacks and gizmos aplenty, I got to thinking. There were so many things there that I could do without. That is not to say I would readily throw them all to the wayside on a whim. They still had value to me, some for their practical usefulness and others for their tie to sentimental memories. But nothing I had was something that I had any dire need for. Slowly, I could see their value waning, and my want for them slipping away.

Sometimes I think back on my trip to Uganda, and feel a slight shame in my gut. It's hard to escape the reality of your own selfishness once the realization has been made. Traveling through the small hill towns of Kagando and Kasese, you see children running along with strings tied to empty water bottles for entertainment. And there was a joy there. They had no sense of entitlement about them. When they got a small gift they didn't ask for more, but accepted it with the utmost appreciation. The wonder etched across their faces that anything could be given to them so freely proved their sincerity.

Now, I look down in my suitcases which hold in them things I know I may never use again. Some things I may even feel are in need of upgrading. And I wonder where that appreciation has gone. How do I see these things through those Ugandan childrens' eyes? I don't feel lucky to have so much, instead I feel burdened by how much more I need; disappointed in the amount I don't have. Why does it take having nothing to really appreciate having something?

Hopefully, I will be able to find that contentment with what I have, and willingness to give without inward struggle. Slowly, I am working toward that goal to rejoice over whatever I am given and not grow covetous about what I don't have. There are many dangers involved with becoming too attached to belongings. All rooted in the fear of losing.

When we lack, we realize that we are subject to the will of what is around us. Without shelter, we cannot be protected from the weather. Without food, we cannot have the strength to live. But rather than rely on others and trust in provision, we attempt to take control of those needs on our own so as to escape from fear, but it is that very fear which drives us. Soon, it is no longer about survival, but about success and self-reliance. We don't want to be taken control of or to be indebted to another-- especially if we know that we cannot pay back that debt. Suddenly, our desire becomes a matter of who we are rather than what we need. Without the independence that comes for personal ownership, the idea seeps into minds that our very identity is at stake. Our identity then rests on those things around us which we can claim ownership of. Those things which we can say point back to us.

"Look at this car, it shows that I am well-off.

"Look at this home garden, it means I like tending the earth and being healthy.

Look at this thing, it says something about me."

But, we should not need to rely on what we own to speak on who we are. If we are bound to transitory things, then our identities are just the same. We should be able to be free of that ownership, that we don't view our possessions as something we have rights over, but instead as things we have been given. We should then be willing to give to others in the same manner in which those things have been given to us. To do this, we must break free from the individualist ethos that has plagued us and learn to rely on one another. This involves the ability to show weakness when in need and to have compassion when approached. We try too hard to appear strong and able, even when dying inside. This only feeds the problem and breeds a stronger sense of self-reliance that pushes away the help of others.

Working toward the mindset that calls on generosity and simplicity, we can attain freedom from the stress of "keeping up with the Joneses" and peace about what we have. Then we can find our true identity, one founded on something that is not fleeting, nor will ever fade away. We are created in the very image of God and his glory shines through us all. He does not desire our identity to be found in ownership, but in submissiveness; that we would turn to him and allow our true selves to be shown by his light.