Hindsight is the greatest way to beat yourself up. But it is also a great way to be reflective, learn from mistakes, and keep attempting to.... work. Looking back at my life over the past 12 months I can see many mistakes, but also many successes. If there is anything I have learned, it is that the human has a desire for fulfillment that is so powerful it can blind even the quickest of minds. I have the mind of molasses, so my heart easily takes over control.
A desire for love. A need for attention. A hope for success. A passion for something. A worry of pain. A fear of something out of one's control.
The heart takes on many emotions that all reflect an inward desire. It is so important to be reflective, to use that hindsight to delve into the reasoning behind your actions to find that emotion to unearth your inner need. Once that need has been recognized, only then can a balance be found.
It is important to note that I am not explicitly talking about survival instincts. But I am talking about how survival instincts can play an important role in our actions. It may not be hunger for food. But hunger for alcohol, sex, attention, or money can be just as powerful as the need for water and food. For me, my hunger is relations. I desire to feel wanted, to be had, and to know I am loved. It comes from a deep sense of need and a lack of feeling loved growing up. But the reality is that my desire is no different from yours. I am Christian, that should be obvious by now. And so I believe that our separation from God, the one ultimate satisfaction, is what has created this need in not just me, but all humans. What is different though, is how we react to this hunger. It takes on desires for relationships, alcohol, sex, money, power, gossip. There are moments in your life that can help explain why you desire what you desire, but the root cause is a need, no an ache, in your heart. And that ache comes from separation from God.
28.2.11
23.2.11
Animals
Stuck in limbo, there are times when we feel both security and fear. We are starved yet full at the exact same moment. Have you ever opened up the fridge to just stare at the choices and options unable to decide if you really want something to eat all the while the cool soft air the machine had worked so hard to build up is quickly rushing out into nothingness? I do it all too often.
Is my life a conundrum? That is like going up to a Dominican and asking him if his life is worthless since he will achieve the same ouput (on a global scale) as a teenager from a developed country. What is the point in poor people if we have wealthy who are far more productive? What is the point of an indecisive person that is creative if they cannot implement their ideas? Why not rid the world of creativity and have CEOs and board members make all our decisions? Such a good idea...
But where is the fun in that? There is none. Please, you think God allowed sin because he wanted us to CHOSE? Tell me, since sin has been in this world, what choices have you actually made? Nope, sin is fun. God likes fun.
But in all seriousness, our indecisiveness, our lack of productivity, our lack of creativity, or the void of efficiency isn't wrong. It is merely a by product of this thing people call sin. It is because we are animals driven by our hunger for unsatisfactory things. Nothing can ever fulfill this deep innate desires we have.
Take me. I bought a new iPod. Now I want a new iMac. Suddenly I need a used Mazda3 with 160 horsepower and a 5-speed short throw manual.... Hmm back to Criswell Honda? Nope. I am going to let that animal inside me die. Let the craving disappear. Because reality will set in. And I don't need a car. I don't need a new iMac, mine runs slow, but just fine. And the iPod, well it isn't satisfying me because it isn't designed to fulfill the needs I need met.
So what do I need met? Get to know me, then I will be more than happy to explain my shortcomings. But the overarching need is a need to belong. To feel wanted. Either by love or friendship it is a natural need every human has.
As we have the hunger of dogs, so we have the desire for packs like dogs.
I am a dog. And so are you. Think about that. Then listen/watch the music video of Animal by Neon Trees. A hopeless love song that casts the same mood and tone of every Top 40 song before it. But the idea of the animal. That is fresh and interesting.
Think of yourself as an animal. Then see how you look at life.
Is my life a conundrum? That is like going up to a Dominican and asking him if his life is worthless since he will achieve the same ouput (on a global scale) as a teenager from a developed country. What is the point in poor people if we have wealthy who are far more productive? What is the point of an indecisive person that is creative if they cannot implement their ideas? Why not rid the world of creativity and have CEOs and board members make all our decisions? Such a good idea...
But where is the fun in that? There is none. Please, you think God allowed sin because he wanted us to CHOSE? Tell me, since sin has been in this world, what choices have you actually made? Nope, sin is fun. God likes fun.
But in all seriousness, our indecisiveness, our lack of productivity, our lack of creativity, or the void of efficiency isn't wrong. It is merely a by product of this thing people call sin. It is because we are animals driven by our hunger for unsatisfactory things. Nothing can ever fulfill this deep innate desires we have.
Take me. I bought a new iPod. Now I want a new iMac. Suddenly I need a used Mazda3 with 160 horsepower and a 5-speed short throw manual.... Hmm back to Criswell Honda? Nope. I am going to let that animal inside me die. Let the craving disappear. Because reality will set in. And I don't need a car. I don't need a new iMac, mine runs slow, but just fine. And the iPod, well it isn't satisfying me because it isn't designed to fulfill the needs I need met.
So what do I need met? Get to know me, then I will be more than happy to explain my shortcomings. But the overarching need is a need to belong. To feel wanted. Either by love or friendship it is a natural need every human has.
As we have the hunger of dogs, so we have the desire for packs like dogs.
I am a dog. And so are you. Think about that. Then listen/watch the music video of Animal by Neon Trees. A hopeless love song that casts the same mood and tone of every Top 40 song before it. But the idea of the animal. That is fresh and interesting.
Think of yourself as an animal. Then see how you look at life.
21.2.11
Under Control
Life.
Crazy. Unpredictable. And ridiculous.
But as cliche as that all sounds, let's admit there is much truth to that statement. Case in point: one person you all know so well spent the past 6 months blindsided by anger towards a feeling, an emotion, and a spirit, so much so as to become the very best he had been afraid of for years. Life, in it's crazy game of fun it calls human beings threw me for a loop putting me into an endless cycle of anger towards God, towards truth, towards love, and towards confidence. Gory details aside, it hit me about four weeks ago that the life I was pursuing was less satisfactory than the life I had changed from 9 months prior. In my attempt to change course, I sort of over compensated by allowing my anger to guide my choices, not a humility I have so proudly professed I am learning about in past posts. That anger brought about a life that I was never fully satisfied with. How could anger ever be fulfilling? And how could attempts to stifle that anger ever bring about happiness?
It took a slightly tipsy 4am conversation full of raw emotion with a seemingly complete stranger to make the realization that my life had been out of control, was out of control, and would continue to be out of control until I came to this realization:
My actions, my decisions, they don't matter. My relationships, my work, my life is not important. What is foundational is my relationship with God. All else will fall into place. Our lives fall into disarray and out of control when we let emotions, raw feelings, and human beings dictate our world. Control only arrives once that power is returned to the being that gave it to us in the first place.
Losing control? Then give up control.
See where that leads you.
Crazy. Unpredictable. And ridiculous.
But as cliche as that all sounds, let's admit there is much truth to that statement. Case in point: one person you all know so well spent the past 6 months blindsided by anger towards a feeling, an emotion, and a spirit, so much so as to become the very best he had been afraid of for years. Life, in it's crazy game of fun it calls human beings threw me for a loop putting me into an endless cycle of anger towards God, towards truth, towards love, and towards confidence. Gory details aside, it hit me about four weeks ago that the life I was pursuing was less satisfactory than the life I had changed from 9 months prior. In my attempt to change course, I sort of over compensated by allowing my anger to guide my choices, not a humility I have so proudly professed I am learning about in past posts. That anger brought about a life that I was never fully satisfied with. How could anger ever be fulfilling? And how could attempts to stifle that anger ever bring about happiness?
It took a slightly tipsy 4am conversation full of raw emotion with a seemingly complete stranger to make the realization that my life had been out of control, was out of control, and would continue to be out of control until I came to this realization:
My actions, my decisions, they don't matter. My relationships, my work, my life is not important. What is foundational is my relationship with God. All else will fall into place. Our lives fall into disarray and out of control when we let emotions, raw feelings, and human beings dictate our world. Control only arrives once that power is returned to the being that gave it to us in the first place.
Losing control? Then give up control.
See where that leads you.
26.12.10
Untitled
It is time for me to explain fully the title of this blog. It is time for all of this to come out.
I grew up slightly overweight. I was always self-concious about who I was. I doubted everyone, not knowing if people really were accepting me as a friend. Never feeling truly involved or connected, I would rarely make attempts to fit in, despite "fitting in" quite well. An opportunity arose for me to take a week of my summer vacation and head out with my Boy Scout Troop to a summer camp. Nervous as anything, I took the chance to step away from the comfort of my family and home and spend time with peers I felt so foreign to.
The week went well. I was fitting in and even bonding with some of the older boys in the troop. There was one older boy, however, whom I idolized. He was the definition of what I wanted to be when I aged 5 or 6 more years. Strong, confident, and a leader, I took in his presence each and every time. This is completely normal. Every young boy finds older young men to idolize, to want to become. Rarely does the older boy recognize the vulnerability of the younger and take advantage of it. In most cases, the elder takes in the child and "mentors" him in such an informal and impactful way that therapists and fathers only wish they could do.
I was not a part of the "most cases". It occurred towards the end of the week. A couple of us boys were hanging back at the camp site, not having anything to do for an hour or two. Some were sitting lazily by the fire pit planning the next shenanigans for the night while others ventured off in hopes of encountering something exciting near the campsite. I had joined a few peers around a camp table, playing various card games learned throughout the week. The youth leader that I looked up to so much had joined us, much to my excitement. Perhaps he had finally been impressed by me. The inner boy in me was hopeful that I would finally be accepted by him. After all, the week was already going well, many of my peers had appeared to accept me, why couldn't the leader of us all, the cool slick 17 year old? I started my attempt to gain his attention and thus approval by making a sarcastic comment to him. Something I have learned through this all is that sarcasm is the best way to subtly protect one's own lack of confidence. At any rate, once the comment was out there in open air I could only wait to see if he would respond. He did, much to my delight. Unfortunately, I was naive and didn't realize that was merely his personality, not his acceptance of me.. The jabs continued flying just as fast as cards were laid down and taken up. The game of Spit was getting heated, and my excitement in beginning to successfully win over his approval was only growing. And then the threat was sent out, a warning that I chose not to head.
"If you continue Grant I am going to have to tie you to a tree."
Most certainly not a threat. By no means, it couldn't have been. I didn't see it as one, nor to this day do I believe it was necessarily meant to be a threat intended to hurt.
I took the challenge. Clearly he was trying to see how far I would go to win his approval. I had fought for it for a few years now, I wasn't going to back down. Moreover, all eyes at the table were on me. Suddenly, the first time ever, I was the center of attention amongst a group of boys who constantly rowed back and forth vying for the very spot I was in. I couldn't back down now, not when I had gotten this far. So the sarcasm and jokes continued. The remainder of the event is kind of a blur to me. The tape came out, the boys rallied up, and then the tree was right there in my face. It was harmless at first, but then fear washed over. The poking started, then the crude sexual jokes were tossed around. This wasn't a game, this was torture of one's mind, dignity, and confidence. Once the stick was brought in, my mind just shut it out. And I was damned proud of myself, I never cried once in front of any of the boys.
I tell you this story not to bring judgement on my tormentors. But this event defines what being poor and meek means. The anger that boiled up as I remembered this event three years ago. The humility I have had to learn to try and forgive each and every boy. The weakness I showed not only then, but also now to God to begin healing.
For 6 years I held this inside, telling no one. I became a zombie in many respects, holding back feelings and lacking any response to emotions one had towards me. I was a wallflower amidst anger, regret, and sadness. But when it all boiled to the surface, once I began to let the pain out and actually feel it. Once I finally relived what had happened to me, I started to feel free. And I opened up. Today I am a wild thing, sometimes too wild. From traveling all around the world, to meeting new people, to drinking a little toooo much ;) I have become the open and honest man I am because of my release. I have a passion for the poor and meek of this world, either in spirit or physical circumstances, because I have been poor and meek myself. I have felt the outside pressures of this world crashing in on me in relentless waves that I felt as though I would drown. I do not know what it is like to wonder if I will have enough money to feed myself next week. I do not know what it is to hope that one $50 loan will rescue me from my poverty. And I do not know what it is like to grow up not knowing who my parents were having both been taken by AIDS. But I do know what pain is. Many know more about it than I, but I have begun to understand it in a way few do. And I can thank this story for that.
This is a blog about pain. This is a blog about suffering. This is a blog about anger. But this is also a blog about
hope
forgiveness
happiness
love
trust
This blog is real, as real as that raw hard emotion you feel right now, be it anger or happiness. Be it loneliness or security. Micro finance, development, poverty, traveling, this world. It all can be summed up in this story. All have stories like this. Triumph over this story, and you have triumphed over the world. I don't want to paint such a pretty picture, this story has come at a cost, a cost I would do anything to trade away. But it is a cost I have taken, and here I am standing strong. Being poor and meek runs through my blood, just as it does with those of the wealthy and those of the shadows. So take this story with heed. Heed that being poor and meek is not just an action, but a lifestyle, one we all must live.
I grew up slightly overweight. I was always self-concious about who I was. I doubted everyone, not knowing if people really were accepting me as a friend. Never feeling truly involved or connected, I would rarely make attempts to fit in, despite "fitting in" quite well. An opportunity arose for me to take a week of my summer vacation and head out with my Boy Scout Troop to a summer camp. Nervous as anything, I took the chance to step away from the comfort of my family and home and spend time with peers I felt so foreign to.
The week went well. I was fitting in and even bonding with some of the older boys in the troop. There was one older boy, however, whom I idolized. He was the definition of what I wanted to be when I aged 5 or 6 more years. Strong, confident, and a leader, I took in his presence each and every time. This is completely normal. Every young boy finds older young men to idolize, to want to become. Rarely does the older boy recognize the vulnerability of the younger and take advantage of it. In most cases, the elder takes in the child and "mentors" him in such an informal and impactful way that therapists and fathers only wish they could do.
I was not a part of the "most cases". It occurred towards the end of the week. A couple of us boys were hanging back at the camp site, not having anything to do for an hour or two. Some were sitting lazily by the fire pit planning the next shenanigans for the night while others ventured off in hopes of encountering something exciting near the campsite. I had joined a few peers around a camp table, playing various card games learned throughout the week. The youth leader that I looked up to so much had joined us, much to my excitement. Perhaps he had finally been impressed by me. The inner boy in me was hopeful that I would finally be accepted by him. After all, the week was already going well, many of my peers had appeared to accept me, why couldn't the leader of us all, the cool slick 17 year old? I started my attempt to gain his attention and thus approval by making a sarcastic comment to him. Something I have learned through this all is that sarcasm is the best way to subtly protect one's own lack of confidence. At any rate, once the comment was out there in open air I could only wait to see if he would respond. He did, much to my delight. Unfortunately, I was naive and didn't realize that was merely his personality, not his acceptance of me.. The jabs continued flying just as fast as cards were laid down and taken up. The game of Spit was getting heated, and my excitement in beginning to successfully win over his approval was only growing. And then the threat was sent out, a warning that I chose not to head.
"If you continue Grant I am going to have to tie you to a tree."
Most certainly not a threat. By no means, it couldn't have been. I didn't see it as one, nor to this day do I believe it was necessarily meant to be a threat intended to hurt.
I took the challenge. Clearly he was trying to see how far I would go to win his approval. I had fought for it for a few years now, I wasn't going to back down. Moreover, all eyes at the table were on me. Suddenly, the first time ever, I was the center of attention amongst a group of boys who constantly rowed back and forth vying for the very spot I was in. I couldn't back down now, not when I had gotten this far. So the sarcasm and jokes continued. The remainder of the event is kind of a blur to me. The tape came out, the boys rallied up, and then the tree was right there in my face. It was harmless at first, but then fear washed over. The poking started, then the crude sexual jokes were tossed around. This wasn't a game, this was torture of one's mind, dignity, and confidence. Once the stick was brought in, my mind just shut it out. And I was damned proud of myself, I never cried once in front of any of the boys.
I tell you this story not to bring judgement on my tormentors. But this event defines what being poor and meek means. The anger that boiled up as I remembered this event three years ago. The humility I have had to learn to try and forgive each and every boy. The weakness I showed not only then, but also now to God to begin healing.
For 6 years I held this inside, telling no one. I became a zombie in many respects, holding back feelings and lacking any response to emotions one had towards me. I was a wallflower amidst anger, regret, and sadness. But when it all boiled to the surface, once I began to let the pain out and actually feel it. Once I finally relived what had happened to me, I started to feel free. And I opened up. Today I am a wild thing, sometimes too wild. From traveling all around the world, to meeting new people, to drinking a little toooo much ;) I have become the open and honest man I am because of my release. I have a passion for the poor and meek of this world, either in spirit or physical circumstances, because I have been poor and meek myself. I have felt the outside pressures of this world crashing in on me in relentless waves that I felt as though I would drown. I do not know what it is like to wonder if I will have enough money to feed myself next week. I do not know what it is to hope that one $50 loan will rescue me from my poverty. And I do not know what it is like to grow up not knowing who my parents were having both been taken by AIDS. But I do know what pain is. Many know more about it than I, but I have begun to understand it in a way few do. And I can thank this story for that.
This is a blog about pain. This is a blog about suffering. This is a blog about anger. But this is also a blog about
hope
forgiveness
happiness
love
trust
This blog is real, as real as that raw hard emotion you feel right now, be it anger or happiness. Be it loneliness or security. Micro finance, development, poverty, traveling, this world. It all can be summed up in this story. All have stories like this. Triumph over this story, and you have triumphed over the world. I don't want to paint such a pretty picture, this story has come at a cost, a cost I would do anything to trade away. But it is a cost I have taken, and here I am standing strong. Being poor and meek runs through my blood, just as it does with those of the wealthy and those of the shadows. So take this story with heed. Heed that being poor and meek is not just an action, but a lifestyle, one we all must live.
8.8.10
Haven't done this in a while...
So I apologize for not blogging in a good while... then again few people actually read this blog so perhaps it is more of just an apology to myself. Six days and I am back stateside after my longest time abroad ever. I do not regret this decision. Nor do I want it to end. I am going to miss this place: the culture, the people, the food, the land, and even the language. But perhaps what I am going to miss the most is the experience itself. You might think I am crazy as I just listed about everything I have experienced in the preceding sentence. No, what I mean is that try as hard as you all may, you will never be interested in what happened to me down here. That is not commentary on anyone's character. No, the fact is that none of you were here to see what I saw or live through what I lived through. You will show interest, but it will be minimal, limited by the distance between us for the past twelve weeks.
I am going to miss this place. The fact is that this summer confirmed something in me I have been trying to deny for years. I used to joke with others that I would be poor the rest of my life, having always chosen to serve others and work with the poor. Granted I haven't really stood out in terms of my service but I seem to always choose the action that leads me to working and serving the poor. Deep down however, as I joked, I secretly worried that the joke had truth to it. Well my time down here has answered that burning question.
For some odd reason, I am captivated by the poor. It isn't that my heart aches for the starving or the meek. On the contrary, I have no emotion other than the desire to teach them how to alleviate that poverty. And that is just it. That emotion brings up a desire and passion much stronger than sadness or sorrow. I am destined to work with the poor. It honestly pains me and scares me to death to say that. But my time here displayed to me how much I want to help the poor. Who else takes an internship to see what is "wrong" with microfinance to see how it can be changed? Who else is so humbled by their time down here that they literally almost throw the internship away in arrogance and selfishness to only take a mighty stab to the heart?
Already as I confess this to you, the fight has begun. I could do so well, make so much back in the States, or over in Europe. But that makes this decision all the more inevitable. I know what it means to make the hard decision or to realize the hard decision and run away from it.
I want you all to know I am literally dreading going back to the States. I don't want to leave. And I don't want to go back to my own culture, my own wealth. This will sound arrogant, but I understand poverty as best as any 21 year old can. It is 21 year olds like me that need to be out there living and working with the poor. So there you have it, my internship wrapped up into one blogpost.
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