The Vine and the Branches

I Knew Star Wars Was Prophetic

It's for real.

The Dicotomy of Deutschland

Feb. 19, 2007

It is 8:40 in the morning, day four of our excursion. I've noticed quite a lot of differences between ministering to the high schoolers here and the middle schoolers back home. A lot of it just goes with the differences between middle and high school. I'm not sure if the rest is cultural, significant to only army brats or what. One difference is that there is no defiance here. The students are always happy to comply and you never have to tell them anything twice. The staff here equates that to the fact that they are the student leaders. Anothere difference is that there is no need to probe the students to open up. None of them are shy and they aren't afraid to let you know who they are. As I've watched them interact I've noticed that they have formed a bond, but it doesn't look to run very deep. This is just my assumption, its hard to say with much accuracy without really knowing them. My guess is that with moves every two to four years it would be difficult saying goodbye if you have connected with them at that deep of a level.
Today is the last day of the retreat. Every part of this weekend has really come together. The highlight has to be Saturday's chapel. Rob, our youth min teacher, spoke about forgiveness. He opened with a clip from Lost, so you knew it was going to be good. The clip highlighted Sawyer and the letter he has carried around with him since he was a child. In the letter he writes to the man who killed his parents. He promises to find him and kill him. Rob then shared about what had happened to him and his parents' death in an auto accident. He then pulled out a letter of his own, written to the man who killed his parents. Rob read his letter to the group. He wrote that he hopes to find this man so that he will know that he has been forgiven by both Rob and God. Rob then invited the group to work out the issues that they have been holding on to and to work on being able to forgive themselves.

The Faushing Parade.

A German cell phone.

My Bratworst and B...sprite.

Coolest bathroom ever.

We had a Vday shindig.

A German Journal

Feb. 17, 2007

It's 11:23pm American time, or 8:24am in Germany. I can't change the clock on my cellphone for some strange reason, so I've developed a system the reveals the time here in Germany. I call it "The what time is it over here?" system. I take the American time and subtract it by three hours, then i switch the pm to the am. It's weird thinking that if I were home I'd probably be avoiding my homework by aimlessly wandering the dorms as opposed to having just waken up. I am no longer chilling in a castle, nor is there any hot water. Lame. I need to shower like Rosanne needs marriage counseling. We have finally met our students and have kicked off the camp. We spent most of the day yesterday working on last minute arrangements and awaiting their dinnertime arrival. it's been a blast over here so far, I defiantly have to come back. Maybe I'll jump at that summer internship. It'll get me back in time for wedding season, unless Jon has something he's not telling me about.

I got locked in the bathroom.

The view from the bathroom window.

Tempting, I know.

I guess when its overcast you can smell the rubber.

I spent a lot of time in that bathroom.

The German Memiours

Feb. 15, 2007

I write from atop a zebra bed circa the Rocky Horror Picture Show from within a German "castle." That's right, a castle. It's more like an ancient mansion then a castle, but it has the spiral staircase, chandeliers down ever hallway, that drafty castle feel, and more rooms then my dorm building. I went for a wander last night and got lost. Apparently this place was built in the 1600s by some bishop. It is currently seven something in the a.m. I'm not really sure because my cellphone is dead and set to American time, which is probably two or three in the am. (Its actually ten pm) I have a whole new respect for jet lag. I've always underestimated its powers, but now I know the extent of its grasp. We flew out yesterday, or rather, day before yesterday at 1:30pm (Portland time) and arrived at eight in the morning (Germany time). But I'm pleased to sacrifice a days worth of sanity in order to say that I've witnessed a sunrise and two sunsets within 24 hours. Although I was to disoriented to fully appreciate everything I'm impressed with what Germany has to offer. The cars are all incredible and the vandalism is beautiful. I have no clue how the people here navigate the roads but they sure do know how to drive. I feel as if I was born for these roads.

The Exit signs here rock.

The "castle" of residency.

The Rocky Horror Picture Bed

Your average castle driveway.

I guess Ashton is a cell phone mogul.

Contentment.

How long has it been since we have focused on what is there instead of what is missing? We call it contentment. It is being completely absorbed with a moment. Ignoring want or need. We often confused contentment with complacency. Which makes its quest a rare occurrence. But it still manages to catch us off guard. A moment beside a waterfall, a child's giggle, a rush of wind through the hair, and a warm cinnamon bun give us all a reason to pause and breath in. We are content. But we soon move on, looking forward to bigger and better days while continuing to pay our dues. Contentment becomes that pause between heartbeats. It is no longer that whistle while we walk but rather that distant bleep on our ever crowded radar screen. Paul says that contentment comes "through him who gives me strength." It is divine adequacy, being dependant on God and not the circumstances of our lives. It is much harder these days to be dependant on either. Dependence on a God who is neither finite nor definable is a difficult task. Likewise our lives never climax. The next stage of life is always greener.

Is contentment in a world that constantly thirsts for more attainable?

It is a world of discontent and I walk it well. In high school I couldn't wait to go to college. In college I couldn't wait to go to "big boy college." And now... Now I'd like to be married, or at least know who I'd like to marry. I'm sure that will be followed by the quest for kids, and finally retirement. Where I will look back at life and wish I could do it again. But this time I won't exhale.

In Over My Head

"Turn over your syllabus. I want you to write down three words that describe how you feel at this very second."

Excited
Anticipating(full)
Curious

We read the course objectives, a twelve point list of what the student will learn throughout the semester. Point one was followed up in more detail. More big words, adjectives, and syllables were spit out then the word of the day toilet paper company has printed. After about forty five seconds of described theories and polish scientist name dropping I wasn't quite sure what point we were on. As my hand slowly made its way up the teacher looked up from his notes and declared, "And that's just number one." He then moved on, adding unpronounceable words to the end of every point. When he finished he took a breath and said, "Now I want you to write three more feeling words that describe your current state of existence at this very second."

Humored
Nervous
Confused

After reading a few of them out loud he joked about how the moods had changed and then he implored us to "pay very close attention to these next ten minutes because they are the most important ten minutes of the entire year."

"How much you know has very little to do with how much people learn from you."
"It is easy to impress people, but it is hard to help them grow."
"It's not what we know it's how we convey what we know."

He then apologized for our previous education and how it has failed us. After his ten minute lecture we jumped back into the syllabus to discuss homework and assignments. He then told us how we are to take notes. We will make a t-chart on our paper. On one side of the t we will write down what we are talking about. On the other side we will write down what he does. How he teaches. Because he is intentional he wants us to pay close attention to his methods.

And then he hit the caution light.

"This is a dangerous class. This is a dangerous class by intention. I do not want you to attend this class, I want you to experience it. My intention is to change you. My intention is to raise more questions then answers. My intention is to keep you up late at night squirming in your bed. My intention is to fuel more self examination then you are comfortable with. If I have done that then I have not failed you."

He then asked how many of us wanted to go into positions of leadership within a ministry setting. Most hands went up. He smiled and said, "Good. Just remember, most people want to improve, few people want to change."

Class dismissed.

Mount Hood Adventures

Ah the snow. It's amazing. My first day out was everything I needed. Amazingly bright, clear, and beautifull. Cheap. Five bucks for gas, ten bucks for food, no lift ticket. Just the old hike up the hill, build a jump, and spend the day in incredible flight. Okay, incredible for those of us who don't actually live on the moutain.

I Need A 'Book It' Program

I've made the mistake of buying a novel Saterday. Not that a book is a bad thing, it's just that now I want to read it. All the time. Which also isn't a bad thing. Except that I still have homework and pretend I have a life. Really my life is wandering the campus looking for people to talk too. Which is why I bought the book in the first place. Sure I read other stuff, lot's of stuff considering I'm a college student. I've pretty much allready knocked off most of the Old Testament. It's just that I wanted to find myself lost in a book. A book where I don't have to read and think at the same time. I just wanted to unfold the pages and find myself in someone else's world. Well now Nick Hornby has me lost in four people's world's. It's The Virgin Suicides meets the Breakfast Club. I tried looking back the last few months to count how much of my life has been spent between the pages, but I couldn't figure it out. I couldn't even count the number of books I've read since leaving school last year. Is all that reading really worth it if you can't remember all the books you've read? I guess so, its fun to get lost in another world sometimes.

We will become a happy ending

Swing, like a chariot
At the trupet call
When were all unsaved, swing
Like a wrecking ball
Like the heart of god
What a mystery
Filled with the wedding feast
For the snakes and bees
With the angel teeth, swing
Come and carry us
Come and marry us
To the blushing circus king

Dance like elephants as he comes to us through a fiery golden rain
With a violin and a song to sing as he brings for us our wings
Now he's one of us, plays the tambourine
Breaks the bread for us and sings.

Page France, I'm now in love.

Genius. Simple. Amazing.

Fire come and carry us
Make us shine or make us rust
Tell us that you care for us
Let your body stand with us
Or let our rags be turned to dust
Chariot you swing for us
We think that you can carry all of us
So we will become a happy ending

Measured Waters

There is something magical that happens when men pile into a car, fill it's tank, remove it's air freshener, and hit the road. With inhibitions on hold they cannot miss adventure. Led by the anticipation of what will be found on the other end of the speed zone they open up their senses and absorb the sights and smells that pass them by. The doors fly open at every bathroom break and the men scatter, only to find each other again at the most intriguing discovery. The bridge used to conceal urination becomes the gateway to the convergence of two creaks. It is nature's playground and it is theirs for the taking. It isn't long before the rocks take flight and one must dodge the descending water. Shoes become optional. One can challenge the force of the rushing water from within or hurl their body from rock to rock above. Soon they find themselves alone. It is a moment to reflect, a moment to snap pictures, a moment to stand back and inhale the surroundings. It is during this moment that one can ponder the reality of the world and one's place among creation. it is during this moment that one is humbled by a leaf and the willingness to open them self up to what it can teach. It is during this moment that one must let the leaf go and watch it swim off slowly alongside others only to lose it downstream.

Idealized Blundering

I have this ability, its more of a gift really, I can take any moment that has any shred of romance and make it about as awkward as possible. One would think that I could just sit back and enjoy the moment, but I can't. I don't know how. I'm always worried about ruining it by stumbling accross that perfect mistake. The one that steals the moment and leaves you as helpless as a blind man playing hide and seek. My first kiss was a flash of beauty. It was the memorable occurance that can only be stumbled upon and is never intentional. At least it should have been. It's the end of an outstanding date, were saying good bye and there's that pause. It's the pause where both of you know what is about to happen and all it takes is the initative. So there I am, about to lean into my first kiss, only I freeze up. I'm afraid to make that step. She's waiting patiently and I don't know what to do. The nostalgia boils into a blundering moment of unmanageable embarrassment. Finally she gives me this look, its the "What are you waiting for you big goof?" look. This of course raises the awkward intensity level to eleven. I have to do something to stop the bleeding. So with a hurried effort I announce, "That's it! I'm going for it." And I lean in. i thought it was a good line at the time. I thought it was the kind of line that Hollywood would admire. Now, everytime I look back on it, I blush. It is because of this haunting moment that I must sabotage every endearing moment I am a part of. (It happens) I don't know what to do with romance anymore. So instead I play the comedian and intentionally make things akward. Everyone knows its better to mess up on purpose then to do so accidently.

Proccupation With Self

"A poet has written, 'The desire to feel loved is the last illusion: let it go and you will be free." Just as the sunrise of faith requires the sunset of our former unbeleif, so the dawn of trust requires letting go of our craving spiritual consolations and tangible reassurances. Trust at the mercy of the response it recieves is a bogus trust. All is uncertainty and anxiety. In trembling insecurity the disciple pleads for proofs from the Lord that her affection is returned. If she does not receive them, shi is frustrated and starts to suspect that her relationship with Jesus is over or that it never existed.
If she does receive consolation, she is reassured, but only for a time. She presses for further proofs--each one less convincing than the one that went before. In the end the need to trust dies of pure frustration. What the disciple has not learned is that tangible reassurances, however valuable they may be, cannot create trust, sustain it, or guarantee any certainty of its presence. Jesus calls us to hand over our autonoous self in unshaken confidence. When the craving for reassurances is stifled, trust happens."

Brennan Manning
The Raggamuffin Gospel


"But I tell you the truth: It is for your good that I am going away..." JN16.7

Complilation #2

Since I enjoyed the last one and the whining that followed I thought I would follow up with more. Enjoy:

"The Canada trip was fun, but man, those guys are wierd. I only heard 'Eh' once. That was kinda disappointing but the sinks in the 'washrooms' said Cranada on them."

"I got glasses, and they suck. It's like living through a magnifying glass. Lame. For the price of uglyness I get eyesight, which I really wasn't missing all that much in the first place."

"My Dad just told me I should become a stripper. I don't know what to do with that. Well, besides puke."

"I've hit rock bottom. I'll never climb Mt. Raineer. The closest I'll get to class 5 rapids will be when I fall in the bathtub, and I'll probably have shampoo in my eyes anyway. I'll never surf, unless it's possible to catch your own wave when you jump in the pool. When my kid is trapped in New York and we're at the edge of an ice age it'll be, "Good luck son. I'll see if I can get a chopper out there when the storm clears." I won't be the hero who shows up just as the last book goes into the fire and the remaining suvivers are inches from death. I'll be watching everything unfold on the news with my extra 30 pounds to keep me company."

"For best taste I have to finish this can by January 17th, 2005. Something tells me I've got that covered. I wonder, though, can I really leave this on my desk for 7 months and still enjoy it's best taste when I finish it Christmas morning?"

I have figured out the root of my girl problems. Apparently I haven't been eating enough Monterey Jack Cheese Quesedias. Thus not sparking the 'Monterey Match Up.'"

"There's nothing I hate more then starting the day out with a cold shower. What's worse is when you find out it's cold somewhere between lather and rinse, repeat if desired."

"Turns out it wasn't a power outage, just my brother blowing a circuit. He wanted to find out what would happen if he put a combination of plastic and metal in a socket. I guess he found out it's not much different then when you put a key in the socket, a lesson he learned at four. I think after ten years those lessons pretty much expire."

"I've discovered that at night people think my Jimmy is a cop car. The confusion mostly comes from the fact that the car is green, and a ski rack can easily be mistaken for the lights. This discovery has brought me great joy. You guys don't know how much fun it is to sit on the side of the road with the parking lights on and watch people slam the breaks as they pass by. Tonight, upon the discovery that I was five minutes early for drum lessons, I pulled off to watch traffic. I got three cars to creep past at the dreary 25, realize I'm an impostor and speed off. Now that's entertainment."

"Did anyone catch tonight's sunset? It was breathtaking. Unfortunately the sunset didn't know CPR, and no one else was around to help. I almost died. It was scary."

"Ingaged in conversation about nothing, I casually picked up my coffee mug. It met my lips, and I gave it a gulp. Of course I completly forgot that the waiter had just walked away, and the coffee in my hand was no longer it's gulpable, bottom of the cup self. But rather it's less sweet burnable counterpart. So here I am. With white tastebuds."

"You know how you get spam from random names. Ever have those random names be someone you know? Anyway mine was from Jamie Pennington. And of course it was about Penile enlargement so I know it's not actually from her."

"Don't you think that after the third weekend people would start to notice that Bernie is dead. I mean, don't people start to smell after three weeks? Wouldn't Bernie get pale? And hello, the guy never talks! He either just stands there between his two friends who talk for him, or he's dancing. Stupid Voodoo. And by golly, I don't think I would want a dead body strapped to my side. That's not really my idea of a great time, wouldn't he get heavy? And the guy never changes his clothes, it's always that blue blouse."

Consider It A Compilation

In one of boredom's most inspiring moments (what I like to call 'no homework, no happenings') I decided to cruise an old blog to discover some of my most humbling moments. But hey, the internet is for embarrasment right? Enjoy the random quotes, I'll probably do this again considering that homework and writer's bloclk inhibit any posts of value/insight.

"My dog is laying in the pile of socks that's been growing on my floor. Yesterday he learned where dogs go when they die. I don't think he's too happy about that one. Where do dog's go again Sobe? That's right, compost pile. Why is that Sobe? Becuase they don't have a soul. Good dog. Here's a treat."

"I could use some cheese in a can. Minus the diarria."

"Yesterday was a good day. Long but good. I ran all the errands I've needed to run, except for the change the oil and the get new tires for the Jimmy part. As well as being the horse I rode for all my errands the Jimmy celebrated 100,000 miles. We took pictures. Threw a party. That young buck deserves it. I know one of these days when I run out of the saloon all shot up I can just hop on the hood and say, "Home Jimmy, home." and he'll carry me away to safety."

"We all get busy, grow up, get stuck in traffic. We run out of reasons to pout. We stop the pity parties. We grin at the girls and we don't care when they don't grin back. We grow our hair out into ridiculous arrangements and skip the daily hair fix. We pump gas, shiver, watch our breath and remember when ten dollars bought thirteen gallons. We wake up before the alarm and still manage to skip breakfast. We actually do our homework, and we study for tests. We smile, we laugh, and we can't wait for baseball."

"Has anyone else noticed that the bad drivers have marked thier cars with yellow ribbons?"

"With Strength And Right"

I've just discovered the history of my family name. We were pretty big stuff in way back Scotland. We pretty much rode around and kicked people's butt's, then we controlled the region between England and Scotland's border. We basicly kept England out for three and a half centuries because we were so cool. We have a tartan too.

Dorm Daze

This is nice. A blessing actually. This thermostat has been averaging a good 20 degrees more per day, making the room unbearable. Thanks to the shift of cool weather, I can actually breath in my room.

I managed to make it through the first day of classes without falling asleep. Two lectures and homework on what should have been just the average syllabus day. The guys and I made the mistake of talking into the wee hours of the morning. We paid for it today. Nap is pending.

Matt and I are also the reigning South Aldrich Foose Ball Champions. We went 8-2 yesterday, dropping one of a best of three for the championship and losing some random game by one point. It was my fault, I should have blocked that shot.

Someone Stop Them

If there is one thing I can't stand it is
church signs.

So is the NIV.

Home School Them.

Excellent choice boys.

This one might be my favorite.

Timmy Bank

Last night I had a dream where I needed to gain weight, so I decided to eat my spare change. It was at some point after my third nickel that I realized this wasn't a good idea. I'm not sure what tipped me off but it may have had something to do with the fact that every time I shook my belly the coins could be heard jingling from within. These three nickels had to be extracted and I believed the best way to do this was to use the finger down throat method. Do you know how hard it is to throw up 15 cents? Neither did I.

What happened?

There was a time when I could write. A time when passion flowed through my fingers and the words weaved themselves together with ease. My ideas were endless. The perfect sentence was as easy as dotting the lower case j. Today I find that constructing the perfect sentence is much like predicting the weather. I just go with a hunch and most of the time I'm wrong. My words are left without an umbrella in which to deflect the rain away from my craft. My sentences are as predictable as playdough. I type either snakes or pancakes and in the end it always ends up brown and crusty. I reread without much hope. I post with embarrasment. I lose my best material to sentence fragments and a poor vocabulary. I can turn an amazing piece into Grandma's knitted blanket: pretty, warm, too many holes.