If I had to big a topic for dinner discussion, Calvinism vs. Arminianism wouldn't be the topic of choice. Yet somehow my brother and mine's conversation landed on the topic. Do we really have free will? Or did God or some all powerful being set our entire lives out in some predetermined fashion? Or is it both?
Do we really have that much freedom in our lives? Please, go tell a 35 year old Dominican woman with 4 children, barely scraping by, that it was by her choice that she is in the position that she is in. Or tell a homosexual that he chose the sexual attractions he feels, the attractions that aren't the norm, that are hotly contested, that no one "wants." Rude? Offensive? Yes.
Did I chose to live in a country that has so much debt and politicians on two sides to arrogant to be right that nothing gets done to solve said debt problem? No. Did I choose to live in a country with Islamaphobia that seeps through the most conservative of hearts (and yet how is that a conservative emotion/fear?)? No. These were not choices I made. Yet here I am, in that country, and now I must adapt to it.
The point here being that it is ignorant to think that our destinies are determined. But it is also a folly to believe that we have the power over our destiny. I think God does. But I think it is indirect. He doesn't watch me every day, moving pieces and pawns into place. Rather, he has created the universe, with it's science of laws and theories, and people's, with independent minds and moral values, that I interact with on a daily basis. They influence my decisions, they keep me from making decisions, they also make decisions for me. It isn't like I have no control over life. But it is so limited in scope.
So rather then decide what theory is correct, understand that we are small feeble characters in this large one act production of humanity. Not at the will of the writer himself, but at the setting, characters, and plot he created.
*fin
29.6.11
26.6.11
Solar Control
We assume that the sun is to rise each morning. In fact, we can even go onto weather.com and find the exact time the sun will rise today, tomorrow, and the next 10 days. Brilliant. We also assume that the sun is going to set each evening, again with exact times for the next 10 days.
But is the sun going to rise tomorrow? Or will we be left in eternal darkness for the next millennia? Something we are so dependent on, we have such little control over. We need the sun for everything we do, literally nothing is without a need for the sun. Our very existence is dependent on it rising and setting rhythmically each day, season, and year. How powerless we are.
How powerless I am.
I am feeble, narrow-minded, and utterly powerless in my life. As are you. And you. And you. We depend on the sun. We depend on the Metro running on time. We depend on a government to tend to us and protect us. We depend on our minds to tell us and command us. We depend on the millions of farmers in this world to provide us with proper produce. So who am I then to make decisions, demands, or even wishes? Please, I can't even control one simple part of my life. And it isn't like my life is spinning out of control. Rather, it is almost comforting to realize just how weak I am. I am utterly powerless and as such, need to go about my life in such a way. A manner of respect and humility. And a heck of a lot more good comes from that than anything else. We don't try to control the sun, because we know we can't. And look at how good things have worked out between us and the sun for the past few millions of years? :)
If we can't control the sun, then why do we like to try to control our lives? I am moving forward today and will approach each situation with this reminder: I cannot control the sun. I cannot control the sun. I cannot control the sun.
But is the sun going to rise tomorrow? Or will we be left in eternal darkness for the next millennia? Something we are so dependent on, we have such little control over. We need the sun for everything we do, literally nothing is without a need for the sun. Our very existence is dependent on it rising and setting rhythmically each day, season, and year. How powerless we are.
How powerless I am.
I am feeble, narrow-minded, and utterly powerless in my life. As are you. And you. And you. We depend on the sun. We depend on the Metro running on time. We depend on a government to tend to us and protect us. We depend on our minds to tell us and command us. We depend on the millions of farmers in this world to provide us with proper produce. So who am I then to make decisions, demands, or even wishes? Please, I can't even control one simple part of my life. And it isn't like my life is spinning out of control. Rather, it is almost comforting to realize just how weak I am. I am utterly powerless and as such, need to go about my life in such a way. A manner of respect and humility. And a heck of a lot more good comes from that than anything else. We don't try to control the sun, because we know we can't. And look at how good things have worked out between us and the sun for the past few millions of years? :)
If we can't control the sun, then why do we like to try to control our lives? I am moving forward today and will approach each situation with this reminder: I cannot control the sun. I cannot control the sun. I cannot control the sun.
9.6.11
Cookie crumbs and fortune
I hate Chinese food. Beyond being ripped off of $60 as a poor volunteer in the Dominican Republic last food over Chinese food, I really don't like the taste of it. Peanuts with chicken? Is this a mad mix of McDonald's and Camden Yards? But in all seriousness, it isn't my favorite food. I enjoy it occasionally, but if I had a choice there are other foods that I would choose (German, Mexican, Thai, Italian, Greek). But this isn't a post about my palette. It is a post about the randomness of God and Chinese food.
I received a message from God in a fortune cookie.
Random? Yes. Chances are slim I would be found in a Chinese restaurant. Even more slim it would be in downtown DC. And even more slim that the very cookie I choose out of four, from an order of probably hundreds that came from a factory that probably produces millions, has a "fortune" that actually applies to me. Sure it was as generic as my daily horoscope that I don't follow. But it hit me like a brick wall. Nah, make it titanium.
I have only shared it with a select few, but the message itself isn't important. What is important is this. I have been begging and asking and whining for a sign from God. Some sort of nod of the direction I should be taking. I have prayed and been diligent about waiting for a sign. Nothing for two months. Then, of all places, as I swallow the last lump of soggy fortune cookie down, I turn over the white slip of paper and get that message I was hoping would come through a, ummm, much more pronounced way.
It was a simple message, one really anyone would normally crumple and throw away. It wasn't a prophecy from a crazed, toothless man that hasn't showered in months. I didn't get it in tongues , nor did a lightning bolt come and strike me. Some dumb piece of paper that appears so insignificant, so meek. A blink and it is gone. View life as a large river, one massive movement forward. But inside this river are millions of strands or streams. Many are large and ever noticeable. Others are small and seemingly insignificant. God works through the small strands. Ironically enough while it seems as though those large currents carry all the weight and force, the reality is it is those small tiny strands, when moved in the right ways, that influence the entire course of the river. We need to stop looking towards those large strands and focus on the smaller bits and pieces. That is where true work is occurring. The excitement is there, not in the big powerful currents. Trust me, a life altering message came to me amongst the crumbs of a eaten fortune cookie in a Chinese restaurant that has replaced six before it and will probably be replaced by another in a few months. Minuscule, yet life changing.
I received a message from God in a fortune cookie.
Random? Yes. Chances are slim I would be found in a Chinese restaurant. Even more slim it would be in downtown DC. And even more slim that the very cookie I choose out of four, from an order of probably hundreds that came from a factory that probably produces millions, has a "fortune" that actually applies to me. Sure it was as generic as my daily horoscope that I don't follow. But it hit me like a brick wall. Nah, make it titanium.
I have only shared it with a select few, but the message itself isn't important. What is important is this. I have been begging and asking and whining for a sign from God. Some sort of nod of the direction I should be taking. I have prayed and been diligent about waiting for a sign. Nothing for two months. Then, of all places, as I swallow the last lump of soggy fortune cookie down, I turn over the white slip of paper and get that message I was hoping would come through a, ummm, much more pronounced way.
It was a simple message, one really anyone would normally crumple and throw away. It wasn't a prophecy from a crazed, toothless man that hasn't showered in months. I didn't get it in tongues , nor did a lightning bolt come and strike me. Some dumb piece of paper that appears so insignificant, so meek. A blink and it is gone. View life as a large river, one massive movement forward. But inside this river are millions of strands or streams. Many are large and ever noticeable. Others are small and seemingly insignificant. God works through the small strands. Ironically enough while it seems as though those large currents carry all the weight and force, the reality is it is those small tiny strands, when moved in the right ways, that influence the entire course of the river. We need to stop looking towards those large strands and focus on the smaller bits and pieces. That is where true work is occurring. The excitement is there, not in the big powerful currents. Trust me, a life altering message came to me amongst the crumbs of a eaten fortune cookie in a Chinese restaurant that has replaced six before it and will probably be replaced by another in a few months. Minuscule, yet life changing.
1.6.11
Fluid
Struggle. Push. Shove. Fight.
All actions I want to commit at this time. I am restless. I am frustrated. I am confused. I just want certainty in my life. Tomorrow hasn't come, but tomorrow is unknown to me, and that bothers me. The sun may have set, but the shadows seem as if they will remain well past the sunrise tomorrow morning. Isn't that uncomfortable for anyone? Who likes walking along in the dark anyways?
If it is any consolation to me, I am amongst probably 90% of the world's population. I really question whether anyone really has total certainty to their life. You may have that nice paying job now. You may have the wonderful girlfriend, the best friend, the perfect family. But how much certainty is their in all that. No, I am not talking about some horrible event upheaving your entire life. I am merely pointing out the fluidity of life. It takes a shape, then molds again, barely holding it's form before another rapid transformation. It can be so fast paced nay a blink of an eye can catch it. Or it can be painstaking slow, the eyes burning as they watch, wide, waiting patiently for the change to occur.
Either way, it scares me. To know just how fluid life is: How it changes, how it molds, how it disappears and yet will reappear in another figure or form. I want to fight against it. Hell, I want to mold it into something I can understand or comprehend. But each time I grab it, it flows right through my fingers. The shape it once had ruined by my desire to control it. It billows out, stretches, as if to avoid my touch at all. It is clear, perfectly clear like a crystal. There is nothing to it, yet so much contained inside of it. It shows my reflection, whether I want it to or not, my face ripples through it's ever changing facets. It warps my figure, just as it warps itself.
And it scares me. But I dare not touch it. For touching it, as I have learned in the past, is far worse than the unknown that comes with the fluidity of life itself. Rather, I am patient. I wait and I too become fluid. I adapt to the very changing object we call life. Suddenly I am changing along with it, moving in and out like the perfect dance partner. Until I don't recognize myself as I did once before. Suddenly life takes a shape that allows a glimpse back at myself. And I realize how much I have changed since I last glanced before, be it two years, two weeks, or two days.
That isn't scary. It is beautiful. But I can be scared of beauty. I should be scared of beauty.
All actions I want to commit at this time. I am restless. I am frustrated. I am confused. I just want certainty in my life. Tomorrow hasn't come, but tomorrow is unknown to me, and that bothers me. The sun may have set, but the shadows seem as if they will remain well past the sunrise tomorrow morning. Isn't that uncomfortable for anyone? Who likes walking along in the dark anyways?
If it is any consolation to me, I am amongst probably 90% of the world's population. I really question whether anyone really has total certainty to their life. You may have that nice paying job now. You may have the wonderful girlfriend, the best friend, the perfect family. But how much certainty is their in all that. No, I am not talking about some horrible event upheaving your entire life. I am merely pointing out the fluidity of life. It takes a shape, then molds again, barely holding it's form before another rapid transformation. It can be so fast paced nay a blink of an eye can catch it. Or it can be painstaking slow, the eyes burning as they watch, wide, waiting patiently for the change to occur.
Either way, it scares me. To know just how fluid life is: How it changes, how it molds, how it disappears and yet will reappear in another figure or form. I want to fight against it. Hell, I want to mold it into something I can understand or comprehend. But each time I grab it, it flows right through my fingers. The shape it once had ruined by my desire to control it. It billows out, stretches, as if to avoid my touch at all. It is clear, perfectly clear like a crystal. There is nothing to it, yet so much contained inside of it. It shows my reflection, whether I want it to or not, my face ripples through it's ever changing facets. It warps my figure, just as it warps itself.
And it scares me. But I dare not touch it. For touching it, as I have learned in the past, is far worse than the unknown that comes with the fluidity of life itself. Rather, I am patient. I wait and I too become fluid. I adapt to the very changing object we call life. Suddenly I am changing along with it, moving in and out like the perfect dance partner. Until I don't recognize myself as I did once before. Suddenly life takes a shape that allows a glimpse back at myself. And I realize how much I have changed since I last glanced before, be it two years, two weeks, or two days.
That isn't scary. It is beautiful. But I can be scared of beauty. I should be scared of beauty.
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