I wasn't gonna blog about this, but I guess this was a long time coming. Yes, okay, I have to say Ironman 2 was a flop from what I think is the normal person's perspective. It got a lot of bang, but got slow in the middle, super-anti-climactic finale, and the plot was negligible. But I'm not a normal person, I'm a fan, and a big one at that too. Since the plot was largely non-existent anyway, I don't think I'm in danger of giving any spoilers. As usual with movies lately, I appreciate the jokes more than anything. In that department, I dare say Ironman 2 is second only to Batman. I think I read in Wired that this movie was made with fans in mind. That much was clear to me. Tony's line, "You wanna be war machine? Go ahead!" was a dead giveaway to me. That line wouldn't even register in a normal person's head. But I caught that line and I knew immediately the silver suit was gonna turn black. And turn black it did. I almost stood up and saluted.
But what I have the urge to talk about is not that. The one line that stuck with me [apart from War Machine's last joke] was when The War Machine dude came in to Tony's office and pleaded with him. "You don't have to do this alone, Tony!" Then, contrary to normal hero standards, Tony Stark didn't just repented and did the right and warm and fuzzy thing, like starting to trust his friends more and stuffs. Instead, like a normal person, he waved him off, "Contrary to popular belief, I know what I'm doing."
That line kept on going in my head for the past two hours or so. "You don't have to do this alone!" I have no idea how many times in my life have I been on the transmitting end of that line. But if I may be honest for a second here, everytime I say that to myself, nothing changed. Nothing ever changed. I would try to trust people more, involve myself with other people's "business" more, but I would always quickly high-tail it out of there, away from their personal sphere, and mind my own business. In my head I understand this completely. I need to need other people more, otherwise 20-30 years from now I'll die a lonely man, most probably in a one-bedroom apartment somewhere. I don't have to do this alone, I know that. I don't have to live life alone, don't have to shoulder all my burden alone, don't have to think through my future alone. I know all that. But you know, maybe the hardest gate to break through is not on a guarded fortress. Maybe it is hardest when it's a door deep in the privacy of your heart, and you hold the key. Heavy artillery will bring any fortress down, but maybe there's nothing the physical world can do to turn that key hanging on the padlock of your heart.
I don't like people touching the drum kit when I'm setting up, especially when I'm about to play. I like to do it myself, I like to have everything exactly where I want them to be, and I don't like having to explain myself about any of it. Nobody else needs to know or be concerned, it's my throne. If they dare to comment, they better be a heck a lot better than me. My normal reply to an offer of help would be, "It's fine, I got it." I'm a sharp cold steel blade. The samurai lived off a great principle. The samurai is also extinct.
It's easy to tell people to open up. But I can't tell you how horrifying it is, even just the thought of opening up when your heart is on the line. "But I opened up my heart and all I did was bleed." I say amen to that, pastor Jon. But it has to change. I can't keep on like this. One day, the world will become too much for this one person. One day this guy will no longer have all the answers to all the questions. One day this guy will fall and there will be nobody there to help him up. Something better change before that day comes.
In the end, Tony Stark didn't actually end up trusting anybody else either. Nick Fury certainly didn't really get through to him. Tony Stark didn't end up being anybody's best buddy by the end of the movie, and I don't think that's much of a spoiler at all. But I'm not Tony Stark. I don't have a metal suit to hide in, rocket boots to float in the sky with when I'm lonely, a metal mask to hide my bloodshot eyes after an insomniac night, and I got no villains to beat up to make me feel good about myself when I'm doubting my self-worth. So I gotta do something else.
A thought just occurred to me, and this might just take the cake. This whole thing I've been talking about, in a very symbolic way, I think this was also being "talked about" in the movie. Early in the movie Jarvis said, "Ironically, sir, the thing that allows you to live longer is killing you at the same time." The thing that's keeping me alive, this false sense of security, the "I can handle it" attitude, is also killing me at the same time, by getting me more and more reliant on myself, more and more alone. "Everytime it is used it accelerates the damage to your body", as Jarvis put it. Notice where this "thing" was? It was inserted into Tony's heart. As long as he had that, his blood intoxicity kept on rising up. See what happens when your "heart" is sick? You become toxic. You change it over and over again, but as long you keep replacing it with the same thing, you'll just get more and more toxic in the end. Noticed what changed Tony Stark's life? A change of "heart".
Didn't think I could ever say that about Ironman.
A cheerful heart is a great medicine
But a sad heart crushes the bones
It is not good for a person to be alone
.... because if he falls, then who's gonna help him get back on his feet?
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Walk On Air
There is this thing between me and heights. It's called Fear. I am known to fear tight narrow spaces, I'm claustrophobic. I'm also known to fear great heights, and not-so-great heights. This fact made today went really interesting.
So apparently some people decided to hook some wires and planks around some trees in a forest in Kumeu. Apparently they've been there for five years, and by a staff's own admission, not many people know them anyway. I went today fully expecting them to make me piss my pants. They didn't quite get there but they sure didn't disappoint.
Here's how it works. You go up a ladder, you grab on a wire, and walk along some cleverly-placed planks, rope, logs, wires, or combinations of them attached to various trees around the place, all the while always secured by not one but two locks to a thick wire to ensure gravity doesn't kill you. Repeat at different heights. That's about it. It's clever, simple, and a sure magnet for adrenaline junkies.
I'll be honest with you. Within the first two minutes I started thinking, what the heck am I doing here. The first course was probably two-three meters above the ground and I was scared out of my head. But of course, I wanted this to happen to begin with, that's why I was there in the first place, so I pushed ahead. At about the fifth obstacle I was still scared. In fact the fear never actually left me. But at that point, I no longer thought of quitting. I was there, up in the air, standing between two trees with a wire under my feet and another piece of wire I held on to at about chest level. My old breathing techniques came in handy as I forced myself to keep looking forward and not down. But that's kinda hard to do most times, when you're walking on planks set some width apart, they force you to look down to watch where you're stepping. Clever, as I said. By the second course I was finding my footing. I got used to breathing fast and gritting my teeth. I no longer hurried my steps. By the third course, my breathing techniques failed me, and I resorted to swearing black and blue into thin air. My "ssshhh...." were not attempts to calm myself down, I was swearing in acronym.
After the fourth course we took a break. This was a mistake. Then we got in there again for the second half of the thing, kinda like "the real thing". In the first thirty seconds of that I found the same quitting thoughts in my head again. I thought, I've done this before, only in slightly lower altitude, so there's no reason to stop now. I actually realized that they were recycling obstacle ideas at about course three, that all they've done is set up the same course slightly higher at every repetition. This had an amazing effect: the first time you go through something, you go through it really slow because you're really scared. The second time around, though it's higher, you don't take as much time because you're not that scared anymore, as long as the altitude increase is not huge. I think they lift things up about half a meter or a meter everytime. There's a lesson in there. The first time around you face a certain demon in your life, everything goes crazy. The next time you face it again, even if the stakes are higher, maybe it still scares you, but you've got the hang of it at that stage. It's no longer as paralysing as the first time.
When we were having a break, we noticed that most people that go through this go through them really fast. Most of them don't even hold on to anything. That's not recklessness either, it's perfectly safe. Life is so much easier once you believe that your fall, if you do fall, wouldn't be fatal. To me, I know the safety mechanisms are strong, I wouldn't break a leg or anything if I fall, I wouldn't even go down half a metre if I step off the platform as the chains will hold me. But still, being up there looking down with none of what I am used to have as "safety" scared me. It's a pseudo-fear. It's fear of something that isn't really there anymore. Much of my life has been lived that way. When you don't fear the falling down because you know it's not gonna happen, but you fear the height anyway, you know something in you needs to change. I understand that now. This year has been leading me up to this point, pounding this lesson into me over and over again in different ways until I really get it.
On the sixth course I got two kids going right behind me. They were really tailing me, right on my back. They were about 10 years old. Due to security measures and rules, there was a lot of waiting to avoid overcrowding on the wires and platforms. I was the last in our group to go, that's why I had these kids tailing me. They've been tailing us pretty much the whole day. As I stood on the platform, waiting for Lucko and Wulan to clear the next wire, I started talking to the kid. "Bro, you've done this before?" I asked, because he was so fast in clearing these obstacles. He said no, it's my first time. Later on I figured that he probably meant it was his first time on course six, he might've done the others before. I said "Sorry we're so slow ey bro, this is our first time, and I'm really scared." To my surprise, he politely said, "That's okay, I'm scared too". Somewhere along the line I was on this moving-log thing that I was so afraid of. Lo and behold, the kid was right there behind me, on the same log. I was scared enough when the logs were stable, let alone with a kid breathing down my neck hurrying me up without saying anything. I asked him, "Bro, are your parents near here somewhere?" He said no. I said, "That's good. Sorry about my mouth ey bro". Again, the ever-so-polite kid giggled a little and said, "That's okay". And I continued to swear black and blue into the air.
Much to my surprise, however, he started talking to me after that. "Woah that was freaky", he said after one obstacle, "now I don't know if I really wanna do course seven and eight after this." At one point he even asked me to help him move his safety lock from one wire to another because he wasn't tall enough to unlock them easily. That struck me rather deeply. This was a chance encounter. I didn't get the kid's name, and never will, as I quit at the end of course six because my arms wouldn't lift much more and grip was as good as gone. I was getting blurry and my mind wasn't there anymore at about halfway through course six, so I wasn't really there anymore by the end of it. But there it was, instant communication. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the altitude, maybe it's just easy to get people going when you're ten-twelve meters off the ground with just a cable wire under your feet, I don't know. But it's there. Maybe communication is hard to maintain, as was the case with this kid. But it sure is easy to initiate. And everything starts with a beginning.
This whole thing reminds me of Indiana Jones And The Last Crusade. Do you remember what Indy got after he stepped [in faith?] off a cliff to a bridge that he couldn't see? The Cup of The Covenant.
So apparently some people decided to hook some wires and planks around some trees in a forest in Kumeu. Apparently they've been there for five years, and by a staff's own admission, not many people know them anyway. I went today fully expecting them to make me piss my pants. They didn't quite get there but they sure didn't disappoint.
Here's how it works. You go up a ladder, you grab on a wire, and walk along some cleverly-placed planks, rope, logs, wires, or combinations of them attached to various trees around the place, all the while always secured by not one but two locks to a thick wire to ensure gravity doesn't kill you. Repeat at different heights. That's about it. It's clever, simple, and a sure magnet for adrenaline junkies.
I'll be honest with you. Within the first two minutes I started thinking, what the heck am I doing here. The first course was probably two-three meters above the ground and I was scared out of my head. But of course, I wanted this to happen to begin with, that's why I was there in the first place, so I pushed ahead. At about the fifth obstacle I was still scared. In fact the fear never actually left me. But at that point, I no longer thought of quitting. I was there, up in the air, standing between two trees with a wire under my feet and another piece of wire I held on to at about chest level. My old breathing techniques came in handy as I forced myself to keep looking forward and not down. But that's kinda hard to do most times, when you're walking on planks set some width apart, they force you to look down to watch where you're stepping. Clever, as I said. By the second course I was finding my footing. I got used to breathing fast and gritting my teeth. I no longer hurried my steps. By the third course, my breathing techniques failed me, and I resorted to swearing black and blue into thin air. My "ssshhh...." were not attempts to calm myself down, I was swearing in acronym.
After the fourth course we took a break. This was a mistake. Then we got in there again for the second half of the thing, kinda like "the real thing". In the first thirty seconds of that I found the same quitting thoughts in my head again. I thought, I've done this before, only in slightly lower altitude, so there's no reason to stop now. I actually realized that they were recycling obstacle ideas at about course three, that all they've done is set up the same course slightly higher at every repetition. This had an amazing effect: the first time you go through something, you go through it really slow because you're really scared. The second time around, though it's higher, you don't take as much time because you're not that scared anymore, as long as the altitude increase is not huge. I think they lift things up about half a meter or a meter everytime. There's a lesson in there. The first time around you face a certain demon in your life, everything goes crazy. The next time you face it again, even if the stakes are higher, maybe it still scares you, but you've got the hang of it at that stage. It's no longer as paralysing as the first time.
When we were having a break, we noticed that most people that go through this go through them really fast. Most of them don't even hold on to anything. That's not recklessness either, it's perfectly safe. Life is so much easier once you believe that your fall, if you do fall, wouldn't be fatal. To me, I know the safety mechanisms are strong, I wouldn't break a leg or anything if I fall, I wouldn't even go down half a metre if I step off the platform as the chains will hold me. But still, being up there looking down with none of what I am used to have as "safety" scared me. It's a pseudo-fear. It's fear of something that isn't really there anymore. Much of my life has been lived that way. When you don't fear the falling down because you know it's not gonna happen, but you fear the height anyway, you know something in you needs to change. I understand that now. This year has been leading me up to this point, pounding this lesson into me over and over again in different ways until I really get it.
On the sixth course I got two kids going right behind me. They were really tailing me, right on my back. They were about 10 years old. Due to security measures and rules, there was a lot of waiting to avoid overcrowding on the wires and platforms. I was the last in our group to go, that's why I had these kids tailing me. They've been tailing us pretty much the whole day. As I stood on the platform, waiting for Lucko and Wulan to clear the next wire, I started talking to the kid. "Bro, you've done this before?" I asked, because he was so fast in clearing these obstacles. He said no, it's my first time. Later on I figured that he probably meant it was his first time on course six, he might've done the others before. I said "Sorry we're so slow ey bro, this is our first time, and I'm really scared." To my surprise, he politely said, "That's okay, I'm scared too". Somewhere along the line I was on this moving-log thing that I was so afraid of. Lo and behold, the kid was right there behind me, on the same log. I was scared enough when the logs were stable, let alone with a kid breathing down my neck hurrying me up without saying anything. I asked him, "Bro, are your parents near here somewhere?" He said no. I said, "That's good. Sorry about my mouth ey bro". Again, the ever-so-polite kid giggled a little and said, "That's okay". And I continued to swear black and blue into the air.
Much to my surprise, however, he started talking to me after that. "Woah that was freaky", he said after one obstacle, "now I don't know if I really wanna do course seven and eight after this." At one point he even asked me to help him move his safety lock from one wire to another because he wasn't tall enough to unlock them easily. That struck me rather deeply. This was a chance encounter. I didn't get the kid's name, and never will, as I quit at the end of course six because my arms wouldn't lift much more and grip was as good as gone. I was getting blurry and my mind wasn't there anymore at about halfway through course six, so I wasn't really there anymore by the end of it. But there it was, instant communication. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the altitude, maybe it's just easy to get people going when you're ten-twelve meters off the ground with just a cable wire under your feet, I don't know. But it's there. Maybe communication is hard to maintain, as was the case with this kid. But it sure is easy to initiate. And everything starts with a beginning.
This whole thing reminds me of Indiana Jones And The Last Crusade. Do you remember what Indy got after he stepped [in faith?] off a cliff to a bridge that he couldn't see? The Cup of The Covenant.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Walk On Water: Side Story
Once upon a time there was a rich man. He found an empty land, and on that empty land he found a treasure. The moment he found the treasure, he quickly buried the treasure again, went home, sold everything he had, and bought the land. But the biggest thing about this little story is that it begins with "The Kingdom of God is like....."
For us, soil and dust with breath of life in it, this guy sold everything he had and bought us overpriced, all for what little treasure we hide within us. The crazy thing is, he sold everything. An empty land is worth a lot if you have something to build on top of it. But without anything else under his name, the empty land will stay empty, if not for the hidden treasure. See, he bought the land not because of what will become of the land. He bought because of what's already in it. And I think that's insane.
But if the Kingdom of God is like that, so to make "Your Kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven" we have to see other empty lands the same way. My only problem with that is these days I have a short fuse, I really do. If I've had a bad day, and especially if this empty land is not the female kind, I get pissed really really fast. Let's just be honest here, I'm a man too, and a single man at that. I'm willing to tolerate women more than men, I'll just be honest here. But then this side story didn't say anything about that. He found a land, found a hidden treasure, and did everything he could to save it. It's a simple story. It just takes a lot to follow.
A lot of times it takes so much, in fact, that I feel that to keep on doing it I have to be walking on water.
What can make me whole again?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus
For us, soil and dust with breath of life in it, this guy sold everything he had and bought us overpriced, all for what little treasure we hide within us. The crazy thing is, he sold everything. An empty land is worth a lot if you have something to build on top of it. But without anything else under his name, the empty land will stay empty, if not for the hidden treasure. See, he bought the land not because of what will become of the land. He bought because of what's already in it. And I think that's insane.
But if the Kingdom of God is like that, so to make "Your Kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven" we have to see other empty lands the same way. My only problem with that is these days I have a short fuse, I really do. If I've had a bad day, and especially if this empty land is not the female kind, I get pissed really really fast. Let's just be honest here, I'm a man too, and a single man at that. I'm willing to tolerate women more than men, I'll just be honest here. But then this side story didn't say anything about that. He found a land, found a hidden treasure, and did everything he could to save it. It's a simple story. It just takes a lot to follow.
A lot of times it takes so much, in fact, that I feel that to keep on doing it I have to be walking on water.
What can make me whole again?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Interlude
When I was growing up I wanted to be strong
When I've grown up I wanted to be even stronger
So I put on an armor, a heart of steel
And then I met you
You said "There is more to life than this"
I walked with you, learned from you, ate from your table
I was a child again
And then I grew up
I thought I understood you, so I felt safe
In my arrogance I thought I understood
In my arrogance I came full circle
And my mistake brought me back to you
Back to you, back to you
The child, a grown up now
but back to how he was, naked and armor-less
and his heart no longer cold steel
flesh stripped bare to the cold winds
back unguarded, open to kill and steal
I come back to you, walking on water
with my eyes fixed on you, I have no one else
I come back to you, no longer strong
Still a fighter, but no longer just trying to survive
Back to you, coming back to you
Trying to be complete again, because only you can
complete me, fill me up
Fill this God-shaped hole
Because only you can
When I've grown up I wanted to be even stronger
So I put on an armor, a heart of steel
And then I met you
You said "There is more to life than this"
I walked with you, learned from you, ate from your table
I was a child again
And then I grew up
I thought I understood you, so I felt safe
In my arrogance I thought I understood
In my arrogance I came full circle
And my mistake brought me back to you
Back to you, back to you
The child, a grown up now
but back to how he was, naked and armor-less
and his heart no longer cold steel
flesh stripped bare to the cold winds
back unguarded, open to kill and steal
I come back to you, walking on water
with my eyes fixed on you, I have no one else
I come back to you, no longer strong
Still a fighter, but no longer just trying to survive
Back to you, coming back to you
Trying to be complete again, because only you can
complete me, fill me up
Fill this God-shaped hole
Because only you can
Walk On Water, part 3
I have misunderstood God. In very short four words, that's what I learned in the past two weeks. I thought I was walking right with God, being part of this ritual-less generation of believers. It was only recently that I realized I have gravitated towards ritual as I walk with God. So little faith, I'm ashamed to say. It's easier with rituals, after all. It's like everyday life. You pay money, you get your stuff. With God and faith, there is no money to pay with. The concept of Grace and God as a Father, they exist outside the realm of logic. The concept of Christ dying on the cross to save humanity is based on the belief that we cannot save ourselves. In other words, for all our powers we can't do a lick to change our fate, to move a stone in the course of this universe. That's why God has to do these things for us. In my arrogance I have come to believe that I can do something about it. In my familiarity I thought I can create something that isn't already in God's hands. Easter bears new meaning for me this year.
Easter Sunday, as we prayed for communion, I thought I heard Steve slipped his tongue. I don't know if he really did slip, or did he do it deliberately, or if it was just me. When Steve prayed over the bread, describing again how this is God's offer to take part in him, I thought I heard him say, "Let me die for you." From that word, this became the first year in my walk with God that I had to take the communion sitting down. My legs went out, and I bawled my eyes out. "Let me die for you", I heard God said. I grew up a survivor. I learned to be self-sufficient. A long time ago a friend warned me that I risk dying alone because I have a problem receiving from other people. In Hillsongs a few years back Joseph Prince said that the church today doesn't have a giving problem, it has a receiving problem. Grace is an easy concept to understand, but nearly impossible for me to take in. I understood their words back then, but this time my heart was broken open.
"Let me die for you", Jesus said. He could've said "let me buy you dinner", or anything, I would've broke down just the same. "Let me" anything. It's been a long time since last time I let anybody do anything for me, anything significant beyond the little chores. I have asked favor from people, and received them, but those were matters of utilitarianism on my part. I was using them because I know those were easy tasks for them each. This time, it felt like completely something else. Somebody wants to do something for me, not because I asked, not because it's easy for him, not because I can pay him back. He just wants to. In my survivor's mind, that's crazy. Why would anybody do that? And it's a big thing as well. It's a matter of heart. I have quite a big privacy sphere. Anybody unwanted who enters this sphere will find themselves kicked out, first gently and later harshly. I have been told of this before, and that I will always be alone if this sphere keeps up. I know that in my head, but I haven't had the courage to let go. Taking it to an extreme, I can call this sphere the AT-field, otherwise known to [my type of] geeks as Absolute Terror field. It is true, most things that get that close to me terrifies me. But as Jesus said that, along with the bread and wine that I took, I was hit and hit real hard.
As I learn to accept and receive, I feel that I'm walking ever closer to the edge. I'm living more dangerously now, I feel. Take risks, let myself be hurt, keep going forward under a rain of fire, and my only defense is a deep breath. I'm a willing target now. As I put these thoughts down to words, my mind can see a big one coming, a blow to shatter me. But I have to learn. I have to learn that all things work for my good. I have to learn that my God is not a boss, my God is a good Father. Everything has been prepared for me, I'll just have to come and grab them on the right time. It's hard to believe. I'm walking on water right now. As the waves lick my feet, I become more and more afraid, the thoughts of drowning fills my head. But the thing is this: I'm wet, not drowned. Despite all this terrifying things ahead of me, I'm still alive, I'm still typing, and I'm still thinking [although maybe not very straight]. This is a different kind of survival. I am nothing. All I have to hold on to is God and God's promises. I'm walking on water, and this time the water is no longer calm.
I stare down the rain of fire
I gaze at the hail of swords
and all I can do is stand back,
be still, and know you are God
Easter Sunday, as we prayed for communion, I thought I heard Steve slipped his tongue. I don't know if he really did slip, or did he do it deliberately, or if it was just me. When Steve prayed over the bread, describing again how this is God's offer to take part in him, I thought I heard him say, "Let me die for you." From that word, this became the first year in my walk with God that I had to take the communion sitting down. My legs went out, and I bawled my eyes out. "Let me die for you", I heard God said. I grew up a survivor. I learned to be self-sufficient. A long time ago a friend warned me that I risk dying alone because I have a problem receiving from other people. In Hillsongs a few years back Joseph Prince said that the church today doesn't have a giving problem, it has a receiving problem. Grace is an easy concept to understand, but nearly impossible for me to take in. I understood their words back then, but this time my heart was broken open.
"Let me die for you", Jesus said. He could've said "let me buy you dinner", or anything, I would've broke down just the same. "Let me" anything. It's been a long time since last time I let anybody do anything for me, anything significant beyond the little chores. I have asked favor from people, and received them, but those were matters of utilitarianism on my part. I was using them because I know those were easy tasks for them each. This time, it felt like completely something else. Somebody wants to do something for me, not because I asked, not because it's easy for him, not because I can pay him back. He just wants to. In my survivor's mind, that's crazy. Why would anybody do that? And it's a big thing as well. It's a matter of heart. I have quite a big privacy sphere. Anybody unwanted who enters this sphere will find themselves kicked out, first gently and later harshly. I have been told of this before, and that I will always be alone if this sphere keeps up. I know that in my head, but I haven't had the courage to let go. Taking it to an extreme, I can call this sphere the AT-field, otherwise known to [my type of] geeks as Absolute Terror field. It is true, most things that get that close to me terrifies me. But as Jesus said that, along with the bread and wine that I took, I was hit and hit real hard.
As I learn to accept and receive, I feel that I'm walking ever closer to the edge. I'm living more dangerously now, I feel. Take risks, let myself be hurt, keep going forward under a rain of fire, and my only defense is a deep breath. I'm a willing target now. As I put these thoughts down to words, my mind can see a big one coming, a blow to shatter me. But I have to learn. I have to learn that all things work for my good. I have to learn that my God is not a boss, my God is a good Father. Everything has been prepared for me, I'll just have to come and grab them on the right time. It's hard to believe. I'm walking on water right now. As the waves lick my feet, I become more and more afraid, the thoughts of drowning fills my head. But the thing is this: I'm wet, not drowned. Despite all this terrifying things ahead of me, I'm still alive, I'm still typing, and I'm still thinking [although maybe not very straight]. This is a different kind of survival. I am nothing. All I have to hold on to is God and God's promises. I'm walking on water, and this time the water is no longer calm.
I stare down the rain of fire
I gaze at the hail of swords
and all I can do is stand back,
be still, and know you are God
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Walk On Water, part 2
We want what we cannot humanly have. We see in others what we want for ourselves. We see in others what we want for them to have. Everything has its cost, but there is no rule that says who has to pay for them. We want them to have it, but they don't wanna pay for it. So we pay the price for them.
Is this right? Is this wrong? The heck with right or wrong! We willingly bear the sin of arrogance, of paying for something the receiver might not want. We willingly bear the sin of intrusion, of being the mustard seed that grows on a barren field where it is not wanted. We willingly bear the sin of annoying persistence, of growing back up everytime we're chopped down. We willingly bear the sin of subordination, of insisting that in some things we know better than our elders. Insistence is a strange thing. It is what parents do to their kids, when they know for sure what's good for them. So when we insist on something we believe is good but our elders refuse, we reverse our roles. We willingly bear the sin of natural subordination, a rebellion against natural order, of insisting to our superiors what we believe is good for them. And most of all we willingly bear the sin of the audacity of hope, of being so audacious as to believe for a moment that we can move God's heart, as we noisily and persistently knock on heaven's door.
This journey is gonna cost me, and it's gonna cost me a lot. Fighting in someone else's battle is not what I usually do. But I think it's high time that I be real. I am real. Life is real. God is real. I want God to be as real in my life as this desk in front of me, this towel on my wet hair, this chocolate bar in my mouth, these blinking lights that I'm watching, and the autumn sun shining down from the sky. So this is my attempt at Kingdom Come. Life is passing me by, and I'm just one man trying to make his way in the universe. There has to be more to life than this. There is God, and God is here. But to have God's presence known and felt and noticeable, now that's real. This next period of the year is for this purpose, of inviting God to be real in my world and my reality, as real as can be, so real that I can almost reach out and touch his shadow. Funny how I have to come to this conclusion by someone else's battle. But maybe that's what we are. It is not good for human to be alone, it says. Fighting your own battles is one thing. But fighting for someone else, in a business where you don't get to determine where it is headed, where you can lose a lot just by being in a supporting role, that's something else altogether. My comfort bubble isn't real. Life isn't always comfortable. This is real. Living and fighting with and for others, this is real.
This is our attempt
to bring the Kingdom down here
on earth as it is in heaven
This is our attempt
for what the eyes have not seen
what the ears have not heard
and what the mind has never even thought of
Is this right? Is this wrong? The heck with right or wrong! We willingly bear the sin of arrogance, of paying for something the receiver might not want. We willingly bear the sin of intrusion, of being the mustard seed that grows on a barren field where it is not wanted. We willingly bear the sin of annoying persistence, of growing back up everytime we're chopped down. We willingly bear the sin of subordination, of insisting that in some things we know better than our elders. Insistence is a strange thing. It is what parents do to their kids, when they know for sure what's good for them. So when we insist on something we believe is good but our elders refuse, we reverse our roles. We willingly bear the sin of natural subordination, a rebellion against natural order, of insisting to our superiors what we believe is good for them. And most of all we willingly bear the sin of the audacity of hope, of being so audacious as to believe for a moment that we can move God's heart, as we noisily and persistently knock on heaven's door.
This journey is gonna cost me, and it's gonna cost me a lot. Fighting in someone else's battle is not what I usually do. But I think it's high time that I be real. I am real. Life is real. God is real. I want God to be as real in my life as this desk in front of me, this towel on my wet hair, this chocolate bar in my mouth, these blinking lights that I'm watching, and the autumn sun shining down from the sky. So this is my attempt at Kingdom Come. Life is passing me by, and I'm just one man trying to make his way in the universe. There has to be more to life than this. There is God, and God is here. But to have God's presence known and felt and noticeable, now that's real. This next period of the year is for this purpose, of inviting God to be real in my world and my reality, as real as can be, so real that I can almost reach out and touch his shadow. Funny how I have to come to this conclusion by someone else's battle. But maybe that's what we are. It is not good for human to be alone, it says. Fighting your own battles is one thing. But fighting for someone else, in a business where you don't get to determine where it is headed, where you can lose a lot just by being in a supporting role, that's something else altogether. My comfort bubble isn't real. Life isn't always comfortable. This is real. Living and fighting with and for others, this is real.
This is our attempt
to bring the Kingdom down here
on earth as it is in heaven
This is our attempt
for what the eyes have not seen
what the ears have not heard
and what the mind has never even thought of
Thursday, March 11, 2010
All Too Human
A few days ago, an old guard passed away in the family. It's been a long time coming, and I think it's safe to say that most have been expecting it. But life is such an awesome thing that the weight of a matriarch's death is still a heavy burden. I spent an entire day sweeping the subject under the rug, much to my dad's confusion. Yesterday, it hit me that I was being inhuman. Yes it's awkward, yes I didn't know what to say. But isn't it more wrong to not be present, whatever that means these days, in such situations? Then I watched a part of Summer Wars. After the part where their matriarch passed away, I scrambled a few txts and sent them away.
"... because the saddest things in life are being hungry and being alone..."
I'm used to being both of those, sometimes in turn, sometimes at once. But I hardly felt sad. I quite enjoy it most of the time, in fact. Such is my inhumanity.
Then I took my mind off things by polishing my cymbals. They sit proudly in my room, glistening under the light. The medium, intimidating and thin. The ride, enormous and imposing. Light does that to you when you reflect it well. You only need to be polished every now and again.
I originally intended to write long and imaginative. But this week has been a bit of a quiet rollercoaster ride, and my words have failed me in this past hour. So many things I can write about, so many angles I can analyze from. But really, what else do I have to talk about other than us, humans being humans?
One man trying to find his way in the universe. What would his tomorrow bring? Which path should he take? There are no save points in life. You make your choices, and you don't look back. His sword arm tightens. "Whatever comes", he thought, "I can handle it". But his sword slashes the wind, his legs chase after shadows. He walks and travels far and wide. He sees much, gains much, listens a lot and speaks his part. Yet he has nothing. "Let your sword arm go", says a whisper. "Let go." The world is bigger than you. You, a survivor in this concrete jungle, let go. Live on, but don't forget you're human.
A woman fights her way under a steel sky. She puts her armor down and opens herself vulnerable to those who wants her help. She gives, and gives, and gives. A fountain never runs dry, as long as it keeps its water flowing. And so she gives, she gives, and she gives. Then it all becomes too much for her. A fighter, she refuses to sit down. But a human, she can only handle so much. Human, all too human. She finds herself down on the ground, without knowing why. She wants to keep going, but her self refuses to move forward. Rest, warrior, you will need it. Rest, child, you deserve it. There will be another day to fight, another day to save others. Remember you're not alone.
An old matriarch passed away. Two generations come and mourn. Few days of ceremony, then everything's back to normal. Everything? Nothing. Nothing will ever be the same. A man stood on farewell. Goodbye, he said, the last of your generation. Without you I wouldn't be here. Without the past, the present wouldn't be here, and the future wouldn't come tomorrow. Fare thee well, old generation, all of you. You are part of us, like you made us part of you when you were here. Goodbye, past. You are not nameless memories. You are real people, with real impact. Rest in peace, everybody. Rest assured, we will not waste this future you've paved for us.
Rest in peace
Opa, Oma, Mak Akoh
Fare thee well, all of you
We are one, but we're not the same
We hurt each other, and we do it again
But we have to carry each other
Carry each other
Hear us come, Lord
Hear us crawl!
Hear us knocking,
knocking at your door!
"... because the saddest things in life are being hungry and being alone..."
I'm used to being both of those, sometimes in turn, sometimes at once. But I hardly felt sad. I quite enjoy it most of the time, in fact. Such is my inhumanity.
Then I took my mind off things by polishing my cymbals. They sit proudly in my room, glistening under the light. The medium, intimidating and thin. The ride, enormous and imposing. Light does that to you when you reflect it well. You only need to be polished every now and again.
I originally intended to write long and imaginative. But this week has been a bit of a quiet rollercoaster ride, and my words have failed me in this past hour. So many things I can write about, so many angles I can analyze from. But really, what else do I have to talk about other than us, humans being humans?
One man trying to find his way in the universe. What would his tomorrow bring? Which path should he take? There are no save points in life. You make your choices, and you don't look back. His sword arm tightens. "Whatever comes", he thought, "I can handle it". But his sword slashes the wind, his legs chase after shadows. He walks and travels far and wide. He sees much, gains much, listens a lot and speaks his part. Yet he has nothing. "Let your sword arm go", says a whisper. "Let go." The world is bigger than you. You, a survivor in this concrete jungle, let go. Live on, but don't forget you're human.
A woman fights her way under a steel sky. She puts her armor down and opens herself vulnerable to those who wants her help. She gives, and gives, and gives. A fountain never runs dry, as long as it keeps its water flowing. And so she gives, she gives, and she gives. Then it all becomes too much for her. A fighter, she refuses to sit down. But a human, she can only handle so much. Human, all too human. She finds herself down on the ground, without knowing why. She wants to keep going, but her self refuses to move forward. Rest, warrior, you will need it. Rest, child, you deserve it. There will be another day to fight, another day to save others. Remember you're not alone.
An old matriarch passed away. Two generations come and mourn. Few days of ceremony, then everything's back to normal. Everything? Nothing. Nothing will ever be the same. A man stood on farewell. Goodbye, he said, the last of your generation. Without you I wouldn't be here. Without the past, the present wouldn't be here, and the future wouldn't come tomorrow. Fare thee well, old generation, all of you. You are part of us, like you made us part of you when you were here. Goodbye, past. You are not nameless memories. You are real people, with real impact. Rest in peace, everybody. Rest assured, we will not waste this future you've paved for us.
Rest in peace
Opa, Oma, Mak Akoh
Fare thee well, all of you
We are one, but we're not the same
We hurt each other, and we do it again
But we have to carry each other
Carry each other
Hear us come, Lord
Hear us crawl!
Hear us knocking,
knocking at your door!
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Reflections
I need to care more. In a nutshell, that's what I've learned through the whole of today. In the beginning, there was a beach. Then there was a watermelon. Two, actually. A cutting board and a huge kitchen knife showed up shortly after. Brilliant. Why didn't I think of that. What's summer without beaches AND watermelons? Yet I couldn't come up with that after all these years. It's been a while since last time I went to the beach more than once a summer. Muriwai didn't disappoint. Not so crazy winds this time. Huge waves tho. Towards the end I hit another one of those washing machine types. Needless to say I retired shortly after.
Then off we went, all of us five adults, to house-sit/kids-sit 9 kids as their parents went off for dinner. I intended to learn as much as I can out of it, thinking I was ready enough to absorb as much as possible. I was wrong. I learned that girls want to be pleased, want others to do what they want them to do. It's not about winning or losing with girls. And with kids, boys or girls regardless, it's about diving into their worlds and the heck with anything else. I'm far from that stage. Took me about half an hour to figure that out.
Then came dinner time. After a few attempts of smooth coercion from my comrades, a kid refused to step out the TV room and have dinner. So I decided to step up and invoked one of my most archaic weapons: Cao Cao. Or to be more specific, his governmental system, Rewards And Punishment. I put on my strict voice and threatened him with punishment. Two rounds later, he gave in. For a moment I felt good about myself. An hour later, the kid threw his ego around again. This time I was having dinner. I didn't see what happened, I only heard the noise from the next room, but I knew this little dude was harassing the girls. After two rounds, the matter was resolved peacefully. Etta weaved her magic wand around a bit and came out the magic trick called Positive Coercion, as I'd like to call it. The matter was resolved peacefully. And so I learned how far behind I was in skills.
Not long after, the little dude went back to take it on with Etta again. His buddies were reluctant accomplices this time. And this time I jumped in, still with half-eaten dinner at hand. Out came Cao Cao again, but this time I've learned my lessons a bit and kept my voice lowered. "You guys still want your milk tea?" Three little heads nodded. "Then behave." Cao Cao level 2 won the confrontation bloodlessly. As a side note, those milk teas were actually promised and were due to be delivered about half an hour back. I purposely held them back until they'd ask again, as a backup weapon. And it did work the way I wanted them to. A copy of Sun Tzu's Art Of War somewhere must be glowing with delight.
Much later, another little story happened. There was this Japanese kid that's been on a PS2 for hours, replaying the same stage over and over again. After watching him for a while, noticing that he began talking to me whenever I sat there, I asked him in Japanese, dude is this really fun? He smiled and didn't answer. He must be thinking, "Oookkkaaayy creepy old man, don't get too familiar with me...." After a while he began explaining, in English, what he was doing and why he liked it so much. My mediocre Japanese failed me, so I continued in English. I asked him, what else do you like? "Umm... this." Okay, how about sports? Basketball, soccer, rugby? "I don't like them, all they do is run around." Excellent answer, though it put me in a tight spot. How about swimming? "Oh I tried swimming yesterday, didn't like it." And so I was stumped. At that point, almost my entire background came to the fore. I'm a gamer myself, I treated this gig like a job, I'm individualistic, and I'm philosophically open-minded. So I thought, if that's the case then this is your rightful place, have fun.
As I moved on elsewhere, a while later Etta came in, again armed with her favourite trick. As I listened in, I quickly found out that the kid had once said "I'm really good at this." Then it hit me. It's not that he's enjoying the game itself, it's just that it connected to what he's good at. It turned out that he's good with his hands. So, for some unknown mystery, Etta got him to draw with the other girls. Insanity, I thought. But it drove home my point. I need to care more.
At that point I was tired, fatigue finally set in. I borrowed Andrew's ipod, got myself a book as drum pad and two pens as sticks. I sat myself on the kitchen bar, and started practicing. It was my autistic moment. After every turn of the song I would go around, checking if everything was fine. I got through about five or six of these rounds, not bad at all for a day when I thought I wouldn't be able to get practice time. Everything went downhill for my body after that. Half the kids were glued to the screen watching The Princess And The Frog, and then Astro Boy. The other half were with Etta, drawing and showing off magic tricks or whatnot. I could barely summon any more energy.
Not long after Andrew left. I cleaned the kitchen, unable to think anymore, as my body went back to Starbucks-mode. It was still about an hour and a half until some of the parents got back. To say that fatigue got the better of me is an understatement. As the TV blared, and the remaining six kids, bleary-eyed though they were, roared out laughing as the hilarious moments they've been expecting came up on screen, the three adults slumped on their chosen spots and slowly withered. Ccl half-died first, Etta sometime later, while I still managed a laugh or two at the jokes that were too adult for the kids to understand. Inside, I withered about half an hour before either of them.
In conclusion, it had to be one amazing day to get me to write this long again. I would do it again, make no mistake. It's a very valuable experience, and I'm not entirely happy with my C- performance.
But before I get another shot at this stuff, I need to learn to care more.
Then off we went, all of us five adults, to house-sit/kids-sit 9 kids as their parents went off for dinner. I intended to learn as much as I can out of it, thinking I was ready enough to absorb as much as possible. I was wrong. I learned that girls want to be pleased, want others to do what they want them to do. It's not about winning or losing with girls. And with kids, boys or girls regardless, it's about diving into their worlds and the heck with anything else. I'm far from that stage. Took me about half an hour to figure that out.
Then came dinner time. After a few attempts of smooth coercion from my comrades, a kid refused to step out the TV room and have dinner. So I decided to step up and invoked one of my most archaic weapons: Cao Cao. Or to be more specific, his governmental system, Rewards And Punishment. I put on my strict voice and threatened him with punishment. Two rounds later, he gave in. For a moment I felt good about myself. An hour later, the kid threw his ego around again. This time I was having dinner. I didn't see what happened, I only heard the noise from the next room, but I knew this little dude was harassing the girls. After two rounds, the matter was resolved peacefully. Etta weaved her magic wand around a bit and came out the magic trick called Positive Coercion, as I'd like to call it. The matter was resolved peacefully. And so I learned how far behind I was in skills.
Not long after, the little dude went back to take it on with Etta again. His buddies were reluctant accomplices this time. And this time I jumped in, still with half-eaten dinner at hand. Out came Cao Cao again, but this time I've learned my lessons a bit and kept my voice lowered. "You guys still want your milk tea?" Three little heads nodded. "Then behave." Cao Cao level 2 won the confrontation bloodlessly. As a side note, those milk teas were actually promised and were due to be delivered about half an hour back. I purposely held them back until they'd ask again, as a backup weapon. And it did work the way I wanted them to. A copy of Sun Tzu's Art Of War somewhere must be glowing with delight.
Much later, another little story happened. There was this Japanese kid that's been on a PS2 for hours, replaying the same stage over and over again. After watching him for a while, noticing that he began talking to me whenever I sat there, I asked him in Japanese, dude is this really fun? He smiled and didn't answer. He must be thinking, "Oookkkaaayy creepy old man, don't get too familiar with me...." After a while he began explaining, in English, what he was doing and why he liked it so much. My mediocre Japanese failed me, so I continued in English. I asked him, what else do you like? "Umm... this." Okay, how about sports? Basketball, soccer, rugby? "I don't like them, all they do is run around." Excellent answer, though it put me in a tight spot. How about swimming? "Oh I tried swimming yesterday, didn't like it." And so I was stumped. At that point, almost my entire background came to the fore. I'm a gamer myself, I treated this gig like a job, I'm individualistic, and I'm philosophically open-minded. So I thought, if that's the case then this is your rightful place, have fun.
As I moved on elsewhere, a while later Etta came in, again armed with her favourite trick. As I listened in, I quickly found out that the kid had once said "I'm really good at this." Then it hit me. It's not that he's enjoying the game itself, it's just that it connected to what he's good at. It turned out that he's good with his hands. So, for some unknown mystery, Etta got him to draw with the other girls. Insanity, I thought. But it drove home my point. I need to care more.
At that point I was tired, fatigue finally set in. I borrowed Andrew's ipod, got myself a book as drum pad and two pens as sticks. I sat myself on the kitchen bar, and started practicing. It was my autistic moment. After every turn of the song I would go around, checking if everything was fine. I got through about five or six of these rounds, not bad at all for a day when I thought I wouldn't be able to get practice time. Everything went downhill for my body after that. Half the kids were glued to the screen watching The Princess And The Frog, and then Astro Boy. The other half were with Etta, drawing and showing off magic tricks or whatnot. I could barely summon any more energy.
Not long after Andrew left. I cleaned the kitchen, unable to think anymore, as my body went back to Starbucks-mode. It was still about an hour and a half until some of the parents got back. To say that fatigue got the better of me is an understatement. As the TV blared, and the remaining six kids, bleary-eyed though they were, roared out laughing as the hilarious moments they've been expecting came up on screen, the three adults slumped on their chosen spots and slowly withered. Ccl half-died first, Etta sometime later, while I still managed a laugh or two at the jokes that were too adult for the kids to understand. Inside, I withered about half an hour before either of them.
In conclusion, it had to be one amazing day to get me to write this long again. I would do it again, make no mistake. It's a very valuable experience, and I'm not entirely happy with my C- performance.
But before I get another shot at this stuff, I need to learn to care more.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
The Spring and The Mirage
I've had a bit of a crazier than usual day. After a rather average gig, I left feeling well that wasn't too special. Then we had a BBQ, unexpectedly running around more than I thought I would. There is something about running around with kids that just doesn't replicate in any other way. It's a happy day, and not just because I ended up with a week's supply of meat, cutting my expenses drastically. I got myself ice cream before going home. I hope this one wouldn't sit there for a year before I decide to throw it away uneaten. I even had a mug of it just now, a great improvement for me.
There is that mysterious glow that some people give off. I hung out with such people today. Running around with the kids, eating with them, listening to them talk about what they've been watching and playing, their heroes, and everything else. I didn't have the heart to tell Sammy that I think Naruto is very weak as a main character, that Kira Yamato is a complete jerk, and that I don't rate Athrun Zala going to Kira's side as "good". Instead I just uhm-ed and ahh-ed and nodded my way through his story. I sat looking out to space as a few grandmas asked me how mom is doing. I couldn't meet their gaze, for fear that I wouldn't be able to hold back tears. It's not so much the story that saddens me, as much as the gentle hearts and voices of old-timers reaching out to raw explosive hearts of the ticking time bomb that is youth. I watched as the parents bought some overpriced ice creams, and the disappointment in some of the kids' face as they found out they weren't gonna get any, and then the efforts of their peers trying to share their pain. For that very reason I went and bought for myself two liters of very cheap ice cream on the way home. It's one mess of a world out there, a chaos of emotions and conflicts, of people and personalities bouncing off each other. From that chaos I emerged wanting more. It was so outside my comfort zone, and yet I felt so alive after all that.
And when you walk away from a place carrying a new light, it is wise to use that light to help your way ahead. I have a lot to ponder about ahead. I have some risky hope this year. I believe, however, that no matter what happens, if worse comes to worst, my God is bigger still. This belief doesn't make me any less anxious. The higher you fly, the harder you fall. It's gonna hurt when everything comes crumbling down, I'm not fooling myself. I have learned to stop thinking what God will or will not do. The good thing about that is, that means things will happen beyond my wildest dreams. The bad thing is, that means I wouldn't always get what I want. Pain is on the way, there's no denying that for people who have their ego still attached. But I'm holding on. This is faith, I think. It's scary, it's crazy, it's undeniably insane. But what choice do I have? Between living secure in mediocrity, or reach for the skies risking suffering, I know which I'll choose everytime. And yet, this belief does nothing to tame my anxiety and fear for what the future us like.
That is what the chaos from today taught me. It was chaos, it was brutal, and a lot of things could go wrong. But it was warm. At this day and age, as I survive in the jungle of concrete and steel, warmth is something else altogether. For this very reason, I have great hope for the unknown ahead, in the knowledge that I have had firsthand account of such a chaos that didn't hurt me, but in fact warmed me up inside. I should have more of that.
The dog howled at his silver moon
Come down and keep me company
But the night is cold, the wind shivering
Because warmth will come only at the light of dawn
There is that mysterious glow that some people give off. I hung out with such people today. Running around with the kids, eating with them, listening to them talk about what they've been watching and playing, their heroes, and everything else. I didn't have the heart to tell Sammy that I think Naruto is very weak as a main character, that Kira Yamato is a complete jerk, and that I don't rate Athrun Zala going to Kira's side as "good". Instead I just uhm-ed and ahh-ed and nodded my way through his story. I sat looking out to space as a few grandmas asked me how mom is doing. I couldn't meet their gaze, for fear that I wouldn't be able to hold back tears. It's not so much the story that saddens me, as much as the gentle hearts and voices of old-timers reaching out to raw explosive hearts of the ticking time bomb that is youth. I watched as the parents bought some overpriced ice creams, and the disappointment in some of the kids' face as they found out they weren't gonna get any, and then the efforts of their peers trying to share their pain. For that very reason I went and bought for myself two liters of very cheap ice cream on the way home. It's one mess of a world out there, a chaos of emotions and conflicts, of people and personalities bouncing off each other. From that chaos I emerged wanting more. It was so outside my comfort zone, and yet I felt so alive after all that.
And when you walk away from a place carrying a new light, it is wise to use that light to help your way ahead. I have a lot to ponder about ahead. I have some risky hope this year. I believe, however, that no matter what happens, if worse comes to worst, my God is bigger still. This belief doesn't make me any less anxious. The higher you fly, the harder you fall. It's gonna hurt when everything comes crumbling down, I'm not fooling myself. I have learned to stop thinking what God will or will not do. The good thing about that is, that means things will happen beyond my wildest dreams. The bad thing is, that means I wouldn't always get what I want. Pain is on the way, there's no denying that for people who have their ego still attached. But I'm holding on. This is faith, I think. It's scary, it's crazy, it's undeniably insane. But what choice do I have? Between living secure in mediocrity, or reach for the skies risking suffering, I know which I'll choose everytime. And yet, this belief does nothing to tame my anxiety and fear for what the future us like.
That is what the chaos from today taught me. It was chaos, it was brutal, and a lot of things could go wrong. But it was warm. At this day and age, as I survive in the jungle of concrete and steel, warmth is something else altogether. For this very reason, I have great hope for the unknown ahead, in the knowledge that I have had firsthand account of such a chaos that didn't hurt me, but in fact warmed me up inside. I should have more of that.
The dog howled at his silver moon
Come down and keep me company
But the night is cold, the wind shivering
Because warmth will come only at the light of dawn
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Walk On Water
Once upon a time there was this guy. At one point in his life, this story happened. He and a bunch of mates were hanging out on a boat in the middle of a lake. Being experienced sailors, they were people who didn't mind spending the night on a boat. Only that night, this big crazy storm came and shook their party out. His mates, being the experienced sailors that they were, did all they could on the boat to keep it floating, wishing with every fibre in their bodies to come out through the night alive. The storm was raging, the boat was shaking, the wind was crazy, there was water everywhere, and the adrenaline rush was more than normal people could handle. But then this guy came out and saw something in the distance.
He saw what looked like a man appeared at some distance away from them, standing over the waves. On the unstable footing of the boat, the winds, under the pale and weak moonlight, this guy gazed to the distance onto that barely-visible figure. "Lord, is that you?" through the raging winds he shouted. "Yes, it is me", he heard the reply. An insane thought flashed in his mind. "Lord, tell me to come out there and I'll come out!" this guy shouted. The figure gestured him to come. Then our hero had a choice in his mind. The storm is raging. It's not comfortable in here anyway. But we're experienced sailors, we might just get through this if we play it cool. This is not our first storm, but it sure wouldn't be our last either. What do I do?
He made a step towards the edge. "Come back in here, man! What's wrong with you?" his mates called out. The guy was too lost in thought to be able to hear them. In fact, he could barely hear anything. The storm, the winds, the shaking boat, his mate's voice, even the figure out on the waves, they all blur in the background as his heart pounded and pounded and pounded, louder and louder. His thoughts came in and came out like a flood in his head. What makes you so sure it's who you think it is? If it's really him, then I can do this easy, no problem. You can still survive this, no need to risk your comfort zone. Yeah, but I don't like being shaken in a boat like this anyway. It's bad right now, but it's nothing new, you can get through this just like before.
Just like before....
But I'm sick of all my "before"s
The dog opened his eyes, startled. He wasn't even sleeping. The scene flashed through his head over and over again. He gazed upon the uncertainty ahead of him. Not the mist, not the road. The dog gazed ahead at the crossroads. Reality and fantasy blurred. Left or right became minor details. Faintly up ahead he saw a figure of a man, neither here nor there. The dog closed his eyes, took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, the figure was still there, as if waiting.
Lord, if that is you
bid me to come
He saw what looked like a man appeared at some distance away from them, standing over the waves. On the unstable footing of the boat, the winds, under the pale and weak moonlight, this guy gazed to the distance onto that barely-visible figure. "Lord, is that you?" through the raging winds he shouted. "Yes, it is me", he heard the reply. An insane thought flashed in his mind. "Lord, tell me to come out there and I'll come out!" this guy shouted. The figure gestured him to come. Then our hero had a choice in his mind. The storm is raging. It's not comfortable in here anyway. But we're experienced sailors, we might just get through this if we play it cool. This is not our first storm, but it sure wouldn't be our last either. What do I do?
He made a step towards the edge. "Come back in here, man! What's wrong with you?" his mates called out. The guy was too lost in thought to be able to hear them. In fact, he could barely hear anything. The storm, the winds, the shaking boat, his mate's voice, even the figure out on the waves, they all blur in the background as his heart pounded and pounded and pounded, louder and louder. His thoughts came in and came out like a flood in his head. What makes you so sure it's who you think it is? If it's really him, then I can do this easy, no problem. You can still survive this, no need to risk your comfort zone. Yeah, but I don't like being shaken in a boat like this anyway. It's bad right now, but it's nothing new, you can get through this just like before.
Just like before....
But I'm sick of all my "before"s
The dog opened his eyes, startled. He wasn't even sleeping. The scene flashed through his head over and over again. He gazed upon the uncertainty ahead of him. Not the mist, not the road. The dog gazed ahead at the crossroads. Reality and fantasy blurred. Left or right became minor details. Faintly up ahead he saw a figure of a man, neither here nor there. The dog closed his eyes, took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, the figure was still there, as if waiting.
Lord, if that is you
bid me to come
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