Vows and Our Christian Words

Okay, this has been on my mind for some time now: What ever happened to we, as Christians, keeping our words? Why is it that we are exactly like the world when it comes to what we say? For instance, I have always been good at keeping my word on things, but it's because it's polite. If I say I'm going to be somewhere at a certain time, but something occurs to hinder my promise, I will call or text and let the person I'm meeting know of the change of plans. I don't just not call or make them call me.

Another thing that is annoying is how we make plans and break them as easily as if we were promising our dog we'd take them for a walk. Aren't we more civilized than dogs? I don't mean to be mean or bitter, but it gets old when a person is known for breaking their word. A lot of this situation has to do with what Christ talked about concerning vows. I'm sure you're aware of the passage, but I'll throw it on here just in case: "Again, you have heard that the ancients were told, 'You shall not make false vows, but shall fulfill your vows to the Lord'" (Matthew 5:33). Now, Christ didn't end the idea here, but in his beautiful fashion, he completed the thought: "But I say to you, make no oath at all, either by heaven...earth...Jerusalem...head...But let your statement be, 'Yes, yes' or 'No, no'; anything beyond these is of evil" (Matthew 34-37). One can easily see that Christ's purpose is that our words-as Christian children-should be worthy of either yes or no. No other word is necessary.

How do I fulfill the thought process? When we brothers and sisters in Christ make a vow or promise or mere plans to do something, let's do it, eh? I know I have to really think things out before I make plans. For instance, last Thursday Adam wanted to get together after school and I said yes. Well, turns out I had to get together with my new advisor, yet I already made the plan with Adam. Instead of breaking the plan, I went ahead and pushed the appointment back a week. It worked out and I had an amazing prayer session with my brother. Where I'm the worst about keeping my word is with my family. So now I have to watch how I promise things to Eli (like taking walks-bad daddy).

In the end, we're all living lives and we're all busy. On top of that, "things happen." Emergencies and illnesses and children "happen." But we're not only hurting our friendships when we constantly break our words; we're ruining the true image of Christ that we're supposed to be reflecting to the world. Let's not be hypocrites.

Paul's Letter to Ephesus

I have been making strides-bounds, really-in reading my Bible more often. Four lit. classes have tackled my time and roughed me up enough to have very little energy to read anything but scholastics. So, I have enjoyed reading through Ephesians for the dozenth time. The wonderful and awe-inspiring thing about the Word is its LIFE. It is always moving, lighting in spots I hadn't noticed before.

Chapter four, verse seven states: "But grace was given to each one of us according to the measure of Christ's gift." Further, ending the chapter, Paul writes, "Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you" (31-32). Wow. First we're given gifts-unique gifts-and we don't all enjoy or use the same ones. Where I'm not as patient, a brother or sister is over-patient. When I achieve giving well-thought-out advice to another, someone else might struggle there. My mother-in-law is an awesome listener. She never makes you feel as if you're boring her. I can tell her how a clown of a customer said so-in-so and she'll keep on listening. Eventually when I shut up, she interjects a reasonable and better angle as to what they might have meant. I love my mom-in-law for that, but honestly, I just love her for using her gifts so well. Christ must be proud.

When we go into the world, are we being like the world, or are we merely passing through? Do we let others pull us down to levels that are way lower than we should ever sink? I will wake up tomorrow and go to work at a job I don't necessarily care for, but I know I'm doing what I can to care for my family. It's not much, but I know my tests of patience and endurance rest there. After reading these passages, I think I'll have a better outlook on those clown customers. They're just people who need Christ the way I do. We children of God have gifts that are begging to be expressed. We also have an obligation to be tenderhearted to the lost. We mustn't hold back our forgiveness for pride's sake. If we're to claim Jesus the Christ as our Savior-Savior from the darkest blackness that Hell can provide-then we have to forgive. He forgave us our sins-our absolute worst qualities in our worst garments of poverty-and He gave us life again. We can at least follow His lead by forgiving others of simple mistakes.

Father, Faith, Fasting

My dad's still not well. It's been two.five years now and he's worse than I've ever seen him. His depression has seeped into every crevasse of his life. The anxiety has continued to push him into places he wishes not to go. My brothers and I are extremely alert to his fluctuating moods; generally they're bleak. So that's my father.

My faith is ever stable and never wavering, but I'm still sad. Of course I'm sad. My father-the best man in my wedding-has a "disease" that can't be cured by simple solutions. The Lord our Father has worked His will throughout this entire situation, yet we weak men don't see the outcome for His glory. It's hard to see anything optimistic or good, but our faith stays tough.

I think I'm going to fast. My father-in-law, my best male friend, recommended fasting as a reasonable and New Testament way to approach what's ailing my father. I need the help of those around me to accomplish such feats. I've fasted before, but it was for my personal relationship with God. Any ideas on how to humble myself enough to be noticed? Ugh...I feel so dirty in these rags.

What Is It?

What is it about Faulkner that makes me cry?
What's in the words, the lack of sentences, the bulge of repetition?
Who bore such a man to create a different kind of southern style?

When did Poe realize he was beyond help?
How did he have enough courage to enter the House?
What if the pendulum swung twice more?

Dearest Camus, what's in Algiers that spurs you on?
My friend, Al-bear, did the plague not spread further than the walls?
Did the taunting of the man deserve the many shots fired?

Hated Ellis, I hate you.
Why did your fingers dare ruin my innocence?
How dare you ruin the only thing I had left.

Brother James, how your epistle spares me much heartache.
Moses, I thank thee for the beginning.
My Lord, Christ, blessed is Your revelation.

I'm No Determinist, But What of Eli's Existence?

Thanks to Mom Rhoden's awesome call to watch our son as our primary caregiver, Cari and I got out last night to spend some time together without school or work. A conversation came up that we usually dance around and it was Eli's life. We cannot express-and I doubt we'd ever be able to speak such words-how much we love our son. We just can't. We do wonder what our lives would be like without him, though. Would I be at a different job or would Cari? Where would we be living? What friends would we be close to without a child to play with theirs? I guess it's anyone's guess but we like to play "What if?" from time to time.

I love these types of discussions because they're so rare, and I love talking with my wife for she's so brilliant in keeping the fire burning. We found ourselves wondering if Eli's existence could have been avoided...or if God's providence that he be born by the exact means undergone overrode our own plans. Now, I'm not to be misunderstood and say human beings-created sinners that we are-ever override God's plans. The Lord has seen as far forward as time exists and as far back as the first tick of the proverbial clock. He transcends time in that He is Lord of that creation as well as His others. I struggle with how I believe in the freedom of the will/choice and how the Almighty views our wills in regard to time. Does He look down the corridor of time and see the Hitlers from the Mother Theresas? And if he sees them, how does this affect their salvation?

I guess what I'm working through is how God allows us to procreate and not Divinely make us have children. Was Eli's birth at the exact second he breathed extra-womb air predetermined using Cari as the carrier of such birth, or could we have waited another year to have a different child? I love these mind-twisters and the mysteries of God because it means I care so strongly to know the character of God. He has allowed me so much and still He's giving in the area of knowledge and curiosity. There's no pride here, though, because I simply strive to know my Creator for His glory.

Here's another fun thought: I fully believe there could never be another one of us as we are now, based on when we were born. Eli couldn't have been Eli if he were born any time later or earlier. He would be different than who he is now, for better or worse. How does this work with what I'm desiring to comprehend? The Bible mentions how God opens and closes the womb (a verse or phrase I've forgotten so many times but wish to memorize) at His desire; so does He use time, freedom of the will, we the agents of the child, and our happiness to this advantage of childbearing? It'll be interesting to know these answers one day, but of course then it won't matter as it does now.

Another Birthday Says Goodnight, Dear Friend

The day I was born was January 26th, 1981, at 5:06 p.m. Ten months or so before that I was conceived and God's master plan begun for one more human being in the countless magnitude he has sown together in the womb. It's spectacular, isn't it? He who is perfect has put us together in a way that only could be done by the Divine.

My son made me bookmarks for my birthday and my wife bought me a cheesecake sampler...yummmmmmmy in me tummy is all I can say. That's right: me tummy. I get childish when it comes to cheesecake.

This year was about ten times better than last year's official birthday because last year was the start of my silence to my mom. I've been feeling overwhelmed, again. Why can't I just have two normal parents who love one another like they're supposed to? Why can't my dad be healed from his atrocious malady? It's not...fair? Is sin really ever fair? When did I grow up to know curses aren't fictional like I thought when I was smaller and less significant? Is it fair to say I've grown at all in my maturity to comprehend the vastness that is blank void? Such blank voids are when the people around us whom we love till it hurts somehow get hurt, themselves, and we can do NOTHING to stop the pain.

Okay, let's clear the air. This year was better than last year's. I didn't see my friends and their smirks surprising me for my coolest-surprise party ever, but I did get to see them at Cari's dinner party, and that's fine with me. This year was better for it was simple. I bought myself a book and all the reliable people around me sent cards, cash, checks, love, warm words, and the typical "old man" comments. Did I mention the bookmarks? Totally radical. My son is a genius and it's probably thanks to Kamryn's (spelling, Kristi?) prayer for Eli to be strong and wise. I love the fact that Carissa helped Eli color all over paper and made a trinity of marks for my books. They're the best gifts I can be given because they're laced with love and determination. He's going to be great...strong...wise.

School is much better. I dare say I wasn't strong enough to tackle what I did to myself and schedule seven classes for the Spring semester. I do have to say that the winter's winding down is disheartening, though. I know it's cold now (at this very moment it's dropping to the supposed forties), but come on, where's the weather that makes a simple 4 a.m. trip to the bathroom hurt? Maybe we should move to South Carolina. I think there are great things in S.C. (not the win for Huckabee, but hey, at least McCain did well). Isn't that the state with the palm tree and crescent moon?

Speaking of politics, I wish I knew what to do. I'm full of wishes that aren't to be granted by copper or golden teapots found in sand. I want Huckabee to win it all: he's talented enough to find answers that I think are out there concerning "the war." He loves the Lord willingly and openly and I feel strongly that our post-modern society is starving from a leader like him. That to say, I'm not thinking preaching from the White House is a novel idea, but you get my drift. I think-I know-John McCain is my next best vote. He can win Florida, with or without me tearing down Romney signs.

Drowning in School

I can't believe it but I'm completely swamped and drowning in school right now! I knew this semester would be tough with six courses (had to drop English Novel because-well, the title should be enough of an explanation), but this is ridiculous. I shouldn't be on here at all. I should be reading about Elizabethan history or attempting my MS Office classes. I feel so overwhelmed and nearly sick. I hate this feeling. It's a claustrophobic feeling that I got when I was going in for my second appendectomy. The doctors had to give me something for my anxiety. Bleh, this is troubling. Why did I take this much school in one semester? Oh yeah: to get ahead; to better myself; to get my family out of someone else's house and into our own.

I told Cari tonight that we should go to high schools and give speeches about how to not mess up future plans because there wasn't a past plan. First, don't plan on having a baby without at least a Bachelor's Degree. Second, buy a mini-van or reliable SUV early and have it paid off by the time your first child's born. Third, have money in the bank for a house down payment, at least twenty percent of the house's worth. Low interest rates then.

Instead of this great master plan we're doing the best with what we've got. Gotta love the ironies in life. Gotta love God's patience with us. I guess I'll go read about Queen Elizabeth or at least read John Smith's diary entries for some lit class whose title I can't recall at this hour.