http://www.csm.org/seasonal.php

i'm ridiculously in love with this internship already.
(byebye nasa, dept. of defense, lockheed, boeing and raytheon..)



... now to apply ._.

and then your vision shifts a little. and you see... just how sinful sin really is.

finding rest in swiss rolls...






i dont think i've ever realized how scary it is to get to know someone new until this year. so many ghosts in my own closet -- so many to find out. what is your past? why did you come to this school, this place, this church? are you normally a sketchy person? what kind of coffee do you drink? what's playing on your ipod? what do you read before you go to bed?

... (and quite possibly the most important question of all),

can you handle the demons i carry?




... (i think i'm so so careful now. i guess i have you to thank for that.)




// this is what tomorrow looks like --
7:30 - 9:00 -- CU on the quad -- (cornell's SYATP) // AH i slept through my two alarm clocks :(
10:10-11:00 -- 217 // class...
11:15-12:05 -- urban planning midterm // i liked :)
12:10-1:10 -- 294 // i remember eating lunch during class...
1:30-4:30 -- 264 lab // so long. ran til 5:30 ><
4:30-5:30 -- prayer mtg // skipped b/c of aforementioned lab

7:30-10:00 -- small group // :)
10:15 -- til done -- progress report writeup w/group. //eh...

and now, i'm home. to study lin. alg. boo.

Sometimes I cannot forgive
And these days, mercy cuts so deep
If the world was how it should be, maybe I could get some sleep
While I lay, I dream we're better,
Scales were gone and faces lighter
When we wake, we hate our brother
We still move to hurt each other
Sometimes I can close my eyes,
And all the fear that keeps me silent falls below my heavy breathing,
What makes me so badly bent?
We all have a chance to murder
We all feel the need for wonder
We still want to be reminded that the pain is worth the thunder


// oh my god, jars of clay.




"this song is so.. desperate."

-- is this how desperate we are?

-- i've been thinking a lot about shame. How d.choi spoke about the gospel of shame, how all throughout Lk.15, the father is the one who shames himself on behalf of his sons -- the older and the younger. How this gospel, this truth that we base our lives off of -- how can it be so easy.. to be ashamed of jesus.

-- there's this man who roams around the streets of collegetown. i think he's homeless. i've said hi to him a few times. what's so scary about engaging in real conversation?

-- apartment hunting is hard. i feel like i'm growing up too fast.

-- home in a week and a half. ..

-- i think i'm a love me/respect me. if i could vent to someone everytime i was angered/frustrated/pissed off, he/she'd think i had anger management problems and send me straight to therapy.

-- jacob didn't wrestle with God to get something out of him. he wrestled with God to God could get something into jacob.


-- .... i need to see a bigger picture.

... determines whether or not some people are employed or not this time next year.

Yep -- Career Day has rolled around, and it has changed the usual slightly frantic, crazed college student into the ridiculously frantic, crazed college student looking for prospective jobs. It's almost funny seeing college kids camping out in computer labs, perfecting their resumes, buying out the Cornell store for that University embossed folder and shiny pen, laying out the nice black pants and white collared shirts to impress recruiters from the bigshot companies (i.e. from IBM, Lockheed Martin, GE, the CIA, to places like Kraft foods, the Gap, and Bloomingdales).

But it's one sheet of paper. One. Where we cram all of our achievements and hide our blemishes and try to impress and lose... focus.

This whole night, I've been blargh and debating on whether or not to do the whole shenanigan and spiff up my resume and all this stuff.

... and no, I won't.

I'm sick of this status quo stuff. I'm tired of us in September, (read: summer has barely finished, and we're looking for internships for the next) trying to get these people to like us based off of one piece of paper.

I asked my friend on Monday if she thought I was cut out to be an engineer. She told me she doesn't think I'm only going to be an engineer, and I know that too. And that's why I'm doing things like taking urban planning.

Part of me feels like.. what if I'm just going through a phase, and I'll regret not doing this later....
But part of me is like... what if I'm just not strong enough in my conviction to do something apart from the status quo?

ps. 13.

i don't know how long the break between v. 4 and v. 5.... but i'm currently stuck at verses 1-4.

How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart?

-- what's this generation known for?
jobs, internships, prestigious jobs, 401k, ivy league. superficial. raucous. jerks. apathetic about everything and anything but ourselves.

-- what's this christian generation look like?
.
.
the same...?

and yes. i know if i were to vocalize this to any one "rational christian," i'd get the well documented "we have hope in Christ who died for our sins," blah blah blah. screw that. do we LIVE like that? are we doers of love and mercy and joy and truth like James presses us to be? 'cause if we are, i'm not seeing that. i'm not seeing a transformed hope. i'm seeing the same people, same students, condemened to this sin that we can't shake.

i have such an absence of hope for this campus, for this generation. i remember attending a women's bible study back over winter break and walking away so disappointed because they just shared about the same things that high schoolers struggled with -- job, money, apartment.

where do we get a grip that it's not about us anymore?

i guess we don't.

even ninevah couldn't do it. nahum documents it. they fell to sin.

we fall to sin.


God i just want to wrestle with You right now for some hope, some little HOPE that this campus and this fellowship is still under your reign and somehow, through these freakin' sinful people like myself You can do something to bring yourself glory.

show me.

i'm always gonna worry about the things that could make us cold...

in my city and regional planning class, we've been dissecting the city in terms of social, economical, and political construct. so, in the first weeks of class, we've been talking about race and socioeconomic classes and what it means to be racist and what social constructs exist in the city and the meaning of the ghetto and inequity of schools and all this stuff..

.. but something feels off.
sitting in a nice architecture building in the arts quad of an ivy league. picking apart the inner city by what we label as race and economic class.


.
.


i wonder how many of us have ever experienced it. been in a latino neighborhood where people breathe out slurs if you're not from the area. sat blankly, not knowing what to say when an eight year old child talks about what it means not to have a dad anymore. stare at the faces of children who still associate race with the colors in their crayola -- no, off-brand -- crayon boxes.

it's off because we, i, have no idea what we're talking about unless we've experienced it.



"cornell is a ticket to the upper middle class," says my crp prof.
what are we going to do with that?

something's happening on campus.
something's stirring.
we're not settling for the sunday school faith anymore. digging deeper into what being a follower of christ really means. we're pushing, and stretching, and..


well. newton's laws of motion, right? with every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
and i'm already feeling the effects of it.

listening to lies that i spur on, that i'm captive to sin and there's no redemption for someone as dirty as me. feeling and seeing the consequences of sin as i snap at those around me and see the ugliness seep through my christianese exterior.

i often underestimate sin.
i often underestimate my God too.



.
.


serving at church this morning reminded me of how much love God has for his church, his people. and how when we are in the midst of pushing, of not settling or being comfortable w/the status quo, there are going to be things pushing back. lies, discouragements, arguments, things to deter us from seeking his kingdom.


i believed them.... sometimes i think i still do.
but it's in these moments of seemingly fleeting clarity. when He simply says, i love you. that it's enough.



// pressin' on.

there are days when i feel so disgustingly, incredibly, sickeningly, chained to sin.

today is one of those days.




.
.
.




sdfuhaosidfho;f
idontknowwhati'mdoinganymore

there are those moments.
you know,
the ones that surpass time, space, .. reality, really.

i miss driving now that i'm land-locked on campus. those late nights, driving back from a friend's house, starbucks, church, anywhere but home. anywhere without a destination. nights just to drive.

and those were the moments. the humming of the engine below your comfortably worn leather seat. your open toes pressing against the acceleration pedal. the cool night breeze floating through the crevice in the window. and michelangelo serenading the mellow playlist.

i'm not sure how many hours i've wound up driving home like that. the same roads. naper to 63. 63 to cass. cass to 59. 59 to wilmette. repeat night after night. but it was so comfortable. the night roads were so comfortable.

there are those moments....
you know,..
do you know where they've gone?

//

and we wait above a road.
we're turning to go home.
and the silence from the side of the car
tells me everything and how we are.
'cause there's no more trying to make this so right,
there's no more trying tonight.

take me back
into the last place i go
murderer.
breathe them out
hiding behind smug smiles
and content cackles of security
of the world as i know it.

it takes me back
beyond the blurry visions of this horizon
falling into a sanctuary of burying
the past behind the lights of
hope surrounding
breathe them out
breathe You in.

You take me back
and my eyes, what do they see now?
on that dirty, narrow road
and the men who walked it,
finally gasping and reaching and despairing
for truth.
chosen. fearless.


take me back again
to damascus.




//

9.18 -- immediately, something like scales fell from Saul's eyes, and he could see again...