Alright, I'm back for a day. But I make no promises, because I'm very very busy right now and I have almost no time at all for the computer.
Right at this minute, though, I need a place for my mounting frustration with life to errupt and make a huge mess without feeling like it will all come back to haunt me later on. This place is safe, and I miss that. For all of you who didn't come to Elizabeth and Beth's birthday party, you really missed out. It was just like old times, singing and dancing together and then talking late into the night. It made me realize again how much I've left behind in my life for absolutely no good reason at all.
With my new friends it's different. You have to hold yourself together and make snide comments. You have to know the lingo. You have to act like you don't really care. You have to accept it when life doesn't throw you together anymore. You just have to keep going, going, going, like the energizer bunny with that stupid drum. That's exactly how life feels right now. Dum, dum, dum, dum, dum...
I have heard that one of the three keys to being a happy person is having a higher purpose or meaning in this life. They did a study and the happy people they interviewed all had this in common, apparently. So there must be truth to it. I suppose this is what the Bible is talking about when it says that the joy of the Lord should be our strength. It must just be a mindset that you keep with you at all times, where you know that God has put you on this earth for a reason and you go through each and every day in the concious effort to fulfil it. What IS that purpose, though, for me? I don't know. I certainly don't live this way.
The other two keys were getting deeply involved in projects to consume your mind, and staying connected with friends and family. It's a little ridiculous to be evaluating my life by bullet points from a Readers Digest article, huh? I guess it kind of rings true with me though, especially when I realize that I'm missing out on both of these things, too. Is it totally selfish and inapropriate to say that I just want to be happy? I just can't see myself continuing to plod along to the beat of that drum for too much longer without completely throwing in the towel; I've come pretty close several times already.
Of course the truth is I always bring all of this on myself, and I don't know why. I have always boardered on the side of being self-destructive, so I guess this is just another way that I fail to take care of myself. I'm sure I'd be a much better instrument to be used by God and help people around me and contribute to the world if I just found a way to love life instead of being dragged through it, feeling like butter scraped over too much bread.
I guess what it boils down to is this: I need to start praying and really searching my Bible again, and definantly studdying like I actually care about my classes even though I don't. Maybe I could even invest a little effort into work. And I need to surround myself with the people I care about. Do you ever have a image in your mind of the way you want things to be, and it burns you when you realize how far away it is from reality? I always looked forward to college so much. It was supposed to be so exhilerating, the best four years of my life. I was supposed to be meating tons of new amazing people and running all over the place having adventures and learning new things, becoming the person I want to be for the rest of my life. Adding value to who I am through good book learning and stuff like that. And I have to ask myself, why not?
So I hope that even if blog is in it's last days here, I can find a way soon to see all of you on a regular basis. Maybe these are the friends I will cary with me all of my life, or at least some of them, or one of them. You just never know. At least I don't want anyone to say that it didn't happen because I didn't try. If you want to help me out with this crusade, my new phone number is (253)353-0986, just in case you didn't know.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
i love this song.
Take a walk down town, and dream with me
We'll walk the parks and the empty streets
You know the seasons ought to be
Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat
We're alone in a crowded room
Silhouetted and ready to bloom
You know the seasons ought to be
Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat
Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat
And when the high wind blows everything
Like the lion attacking the spring
I love you more than I'll ever let on
And that's a fault of mine I'm working on
I'm working on
Take a walk downtown
Remember the days that would never end?
So much time you couldn't comprehend?
When the sun’s so slow to fade
And tomorrow was more of the same
And the easiest April Rain
Was enough to ignite the flame
And you’d fade out with a grin
With the company you were in
And when the high wind blows everything
Like the lion attacking the spring
I love you more than I'll ever let on
And that's a fault of mine I'm working on
I'm working on
And when the sky's a dusky hue
And everything is bottle blue
I love you more than I ever let on
And that's a fault of mine I m working on
I'm working on
Take a walk down town
And jump the train line down
And then turn around at the edge of town
Or continue down, to the other side
And ride and ride ‘til we see our lives
And see our lives from outside
Our city walls and the darkened halls
And the lonely calls
And when we turn around and head back in
Everything will be new again
Everything will be new
And when the high wind blows everything
Like the lion attacking the spring
I love you more than I'll ever let on
And that's a fault of mine I'm working on
I'm working on
And when the sky's a dusky hue
And everything is bottle blue
I love you more than I ever let on
And that's a fault of mine I m working on
I'm working on
Take a walk downtown
We'll walk the parks and the empty streets
You know the seasons ought to be
Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat
We're alone in a crowded room
Silhouetted and ready to bloom
You know the seasons ought to be
Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat
Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat
And when the high wind blows everything
Like the lion attacking the spring
I love you more than I'll ever let on
And that's a fault of mine I'm working on
I'm working on
Take a walk downtown
Remember the days that would never end?
So much time you couldn't comprehend?
When the sun’s so slow to fade
And tomorrow was more of the same
And the easiest April Rain
Was enough to ignite the flame
And you’d fade out with a grin
With the company you were in
And when the high wind blows everything
Like the lion attacking the spring
I love you more than I'll ever let on
And that's a fault of mine I'm working on
I'm working on
And when the sky's a dusky hue
And everything is bottle blue
I love you more than I ever let on
And that's a fault of mine I m working on
I'm working on
Take a walk down town
And jump the train line down
And then turn around at the edge of town
Or continue down, to the other side
And ride and ride ‘til we see our lives
And see our lives from outside
Our city walls and the darkened halls
And the lonely calls
And when we turn around and head back in
Everything will be new again
Everything will be new
And when the high wind blows everything
Like the lion attacking the spring
I love you more than I'll ever let on
And that's a fault of mine I'm working on
I'm working on
And when the sky's a dusky hue
And everything is bottle blue
I love you more than I ever let on
And that's a fault of mine I m working on
I'm working on
Take a walk downtown
Sunday, August 31, 2008
ebenezer
So what do you guys think of my new blog title? I think it's kind of pretentious and more serious than I wanted to be. So I don't know. But I really like what it means. I'm kind of realizing that my life means something way bigger than just what it means to me. It's an ebenezer, a monument to the faithfulness of God- and it's also... how can I say this? It also confirms what I've been told is ultimate Truth. I mean, people can tell you things but until you see experience confirming what you hear there's no reason to beleive it. My experience is confirming the Truth of the Gospel all the time, in a way that convinces me way more than all the scientific proofs for creation or anything like that.
I've got a story to tell, but it's not a story about me, it's a story that's being told through me. I think. Maybe this is why God made me love to write. Maybe? I don't know. But I hope so. I think that would be really cool.
I've got a story to tell, but it's not a story about me, it's a story that's being told through me. I think. Maybe this is why God made me love to write. Maybe? I don't know. But I hope so. I think that would be really cool.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
there, i finally said it.
Okay, so sorry, but I have this thing with continuity and proving myself to be not irrational and stuff, so I have to post this and then we can drop the subject for good.
I think this is the long and short of it. On homeschooling:
I don't know, it's just not something I want to be a part of. Despite it's merrits. The thought of trying to provide my children with enough of a well-rounded education to make them succesful drives me bonkers. I don't think I'm cut out for it.
But mostly it's because I do NOT beleive in secluding ourselves from the world, and if there is one thing I want to teach my kids it's how to be in the world WITHOUT being of the world. If they can do that in high school, they can probably do that anywhere. And if they can't, maybe I'd have to re-consider. But in theory, that's the idea, just like in theory homeschoolers are supposed to ace SAT's and read three hundred pages a day. I'm comming to realize that the most important thing is being willing to change as soon as you see that what you're doing isn't working.
Are we agreed?
I think this is the long and short of it. On homeschooling:
I don't know, it's just not something I want to be a part of. Despite it's merrits. The thought of trying to provide my children with enough of a well-rounded education to make them succesful drives me bonkers. I don't think I'm cut out for it.
But mostly it's because I do NOT beleive in secluding ourselves from the world, and if there is one thing I want to teach my kids it's how to be in the world WITHOUT being of the world. If they can do that in high school, they can probably do that anywhere. And if they can't, maybe I'd have to re-consider. But in theory, that's the idea, just like in theory homeschoolers are supposed to ace SAT's and read three hundred pages a day. I'm comming to realize that the most important thing is being willing to change as soon as you see that what you're doing isn't working.
Are we agreed?
Sunday, August 3, 2008
paper bags and plastic hearts, all our belongings in shopping carts- it's goodbye, but we've got one more night
tonight will change our lives
it's so good to be by your side
we'll cry
we won't give up the fight
we'll scream out at the top of our lungs
and they'll think it's just because we're young
and we'll feel so alive
We go down to the beach in three cars, weaving through the trafic like performers in a giant circus. The people in the grandstands watch and cheer, knowing that we are the show and all of the other cars are just props. Pulling into the parking lot we pile out and lock the doors, pulling sweatshirts over our heads or tying them around our waists as we quickly meld together into one group again. Our spirits are high; we laugh, we sing. Every joke holds more humor than it should as we trail down the path towards the water.
The beach is crowded tonight, and the fireworks have already started. There is a feeling of comoradory between everyone here, the kids throwing frisbys behind the fire pits running to meet one another and combine territories. Marshemllows are being passed around. We find an empty fire pit and a large piece of driftwood (probably illegal) and start a blaze. We take a few pictures, of the darkening sky and of ourselves. They will come out blurry and we all have hair in our eyes. But we are happy, and nothing exists outside of here and now.
For a while we sit and watch the other fireworks. They are shooting off all around us, sometimes whizzing by in front, sometimes exploding behind, and always shooting straight up into the air with wistles and shrill cries to burst into electric showers right above our heads. They rain down on us and sometimes the hot sparks land on our skin. The smell of gunpoweder is sharp and the smoke hangs heavy in the air. It is getting darker by the moment, and with the darkness more people are arriving, pouring down to the water in ones and twos, tens and twelves. Canopies are set up, barbaques are started.
We huddle together to keep warm. Our conversation is cautious, but excited.
"I think there's a lake behind us."
"Look at how the fireworks reflect on the water!"
"I wonder what those lights are, way over there?"
"Isn't that the theater?"
"Or maybe a radio tower."
"I think it's a theater."
...
"How do you make fireworks?"
"I wonder."
"That would be an interesting school project."
"Mmm, much better than volcanoes."
...
"They're probably illeagle to make."
"Yep. Probably illigal."
One of us stands up and pulls a lighter out of his pocket. The girls scramble for the sparklers. We spell our names in the air, leaving trails of smoke drifting off in the wind. When they burn out we stare at them in deep sorrow before tossing them into the fire and watching them curl up and then disinigrate into ashes. We turn; the boys have already gone down to the water with the bottle rockets. They borrowed a beer bottle from the guys next to us to set them off. Wondering down to the waters edge we poke our toes in, then yank them out sqealing and laughing at ourselves. Pulling socks and shoes back on, we retreat to the pile of drift wood at the tide line.
We climb up onto the wobbly logs and sing songs from musicals, laughing as we fudge through the parts none of us know. The boys bend over their work down in the gravely sand, the water laping close to and splashing the thin log where their bottle is propped. Finally there is a crackling sound and they come scrambling backwards across the slippery sea weed and turn just in time to see the firecracker whizz out over the water spreading a firey red trail behind it and then bursting into a spark of yellow light. We cheer as though it were the greatest thing we'd ever seen; as though it were the olympics. We laugh again.
Self-pleased, the boys take us down to the shore one at a time to teach us how. We all light off a bottle rocket, sometimes two at a time. Sometimes they go up in a puff of smoke and never come down, always on the times when the lighter didn't work until the thirty-second try. We are pathetic amidst the roar and bang of roman candles, rockets, and fountains going off all around us, but we are so proud when our bottle rockets go off perfectly, soaring in a glorious arch high above our heads and then exloding at the peak of the curve before the chared remains fall top-over bottom, twisting and turning into the gently laping waves. It like a magic trick, like the greatest show on earth. People laugh at us and we laugh back.
When the bottle rockets are gone we all gather on the logs, straddling them or balancing criss-cross on top like indians. Someone has an ipod and we each take a turn with one ear of the head phones. When our eyes meet across the blueish glow from the little screen they reflect the fireworks going off behind us, turning the pupils to brilliant bursts of red, yellow and blue.
all of the wasted time
hours that were left behind
answers that we'll never find
they don't mean a thing
tonight
It is getting cold. We pull our hands into the sleaves of our sweatshirts and our hoods over our cold ears. It is almost time to go home, but there is one thing yet to do.
The boys have saved the best for the last- four round roman candles waiting at the bottom of the fireworks box. Their eyes are gleaming as they move back to the waters edge. They set the first one off and it soars up almost soundlessly until it is almost out of sight. We hold our breaths in expectation, and then there is a brilliant splash of green across the sky blocking out everything else above our heads, followed a split second latter by a deafoning boom. We can feel the revirberations deep in the pits of our stomachs and our cheers this time are real and reverent. The boys are whooping and screaming, clamping one another on the shoulder and congradulating themselves. They run back to the smoking remains of the firework and choose one of the girls to go with them. Every one of the roman candles goes off perfectly, every time we feel the noise and hear the light crackle as much as we hear and see it. They are red, purple, and a 24-carrot gold.
And then it is done and we are packing up to go. Our voices are heavy with exaustion.
"Who's blanket is that?"
"Oh, that's mine."
"This one?"
"Yeah."
...
"Well it's been fun,"
"It sure has."
"We'll do it again."
"Every year."
"K."
"Goodbye!"
"Bye..."
We wonder back towards our cars in different directions, we climb in and we drive towards our homes and towards the stops we'll make along the way, dropping people off. We don't say a thing as we drive through the darkness with the radio singing softly over the hum of the wheels and the engine, but we're all watching the fireworks going off on either side of the road, escorting us home.
watch it burn
let it die
cuz we are finally free
tonight
it's so good to be by your side
we'll cry
we won't give up the fight
we'll scream out at the top of our lungs
and they'll think it's just because we're young
and we'll feel so alive
We go down to the beach in three cars, weaving through the trafic like performers in a giant circus. The people in the grandstands watch and cheer, knowing that we are the show and all of the other cars are just props. Pulling into the parking lot we pile out and lock the doors, pulling sweatshirts over our heads or tying them around our waists as we quickly meld together into one group again. Our spirits are high; we laugh, we sing. Every joke holds more humor than it should as we trail down the path towards the water.
The beach is crowded tonight, and the fireworks have already started. There is a feeling of comoradory between everyone here, the kids throwing frisbys behind the fire pits running to meet one another and combine territories. Marshemllows are being passed around. We find an empty fire pit and a large piece of driftwood (probably illegal) and start a blaze. We take a few pictures, of the darkening sky and of ourselves. They will come out blurry and we all have hair in our eyes. But we are happy, and nothing exists outside of here and now.
For a while we sit and watch the other fireworks. They are shooting off all around us, sometimes whizzing by in front, sometimes exploding behind, and always shooting straight up into the air with wistles and shrill cries to burst into electric showers right above our heads. They rain down on us and sometimes the hot sparks land on our skin. The smell of gunpoweder is sharp and the smoke hangs heavy in the air. It is getting darker by the moment, and with the darkness more people are arriving, pouring down to the water in ones and twos, tens and twelves. Canopies are set up, barbaques are started.
We huddle together to keep warm. Our conversation is cautious, but excited.
"I think there's a lake behind us."
"Look at how the fireworks reflect on the water!"
"I wonder what those lights are, way over there?"
"Isn't that the theater?"
"Or maybe a radio tower."
"I think it's a theater."
...
"How do you make fireworks?"
"I wonder."
"That would be an interesting school project."
"Mmm, much better than volcanoes."
...
"They're probably illeagle to make."
"Yep. Probably illigal."
One of us stands up and pulls a lighter out of his pocket. The girls scramble for the sparklers. We spell our names in the air, leaving trails of smoke drifting off in the wind. When they burn out we stare at them in deep sorrow before tossing them into the fire and watching them curl up and then disinigrate into ashes. We turn; the boys have already gone down to the water with the bottle rockets. They borrowed a beer bottle from the guys next to us to set them off. Wondering down to the waters edge we poke our toes in, then yank them out sqealing and laughing at ourselves. Pulling socks and shoes back on, we retreat to the pile of drift wood at the tide line.
We climb up onto the wobbly logs and sing songs from musicals, laughing as we fudge through the parts none of us know. The boys bend over their work down in the gravely sand, the water laping close to and splashing the thin log where their bottle is propped. Finally there is a crackling sound and they come scrambling backwards across the slippery sea weed and turn just in time to see the firecracker whizz out over the water spreading a firey red trail behind it and then bursting into a spark of yellow light. We cheer as though it were the greatest thing we'd ever seen; as though it were the olympics. We laugh again.
Self-pleased, the boys take us down to the shore one at a time to teach us how. We all light off a bottle rocket, sometimes two at a time. Sometimes they go up in a puff of smoke and never come down, always on the times when the lighter didn't work until the thirty-second try. We are pathetic amidst the roar and bang of roman candles, rockets, and fountains going off all around us, but we are so proud when our bottle rockets go off perfectly, soaring in a glorious arch high above our heads and then exloding at the peak of the curve before the chared remains fall top-over bottom, twisting and turning into the gently laping waves. It like a magic trick, like the greatest show on earth. People laugh at us and we laugh back.
When the bottle rockets are gone we all gather on the logs, straddling them or balancing criss-cross on top like indians. Someone has an ipod and we each take a turn with one ear of the head phones. When our eyes meet across the blueish glow from the little screen they reflect the fireworks going off behind us, turning the pupils to brilliant bursts of red, yellow and blue.
all of the wasted time
hours that were left behind
answers that we'll never find
they don't mean a thing
tonight
It is getting cold. We pull our hands into the sleaves of our sweatshirts and our hoods over our cold ears. It is almost time to go home, but there is one thing yet to do.
The boys have saved the best for the last- four round roman candles waiting at the bottom of the fireworks box. Their eyes are gleaming as they move back to the waters edge. They set the first one off and it soars up almost soundlessly until it is almost out of sight. We hold our breaths in expectation, and then there is a brilliant splash of green across the sky blocking out everything else above our heads, followed a split second latter by a deafoning boom. We can feel the revirberations deep in the pits of our stomachs and our cheers this time are real and reverent. The boys are whooping and screaming, clamping one another on the shoulder and congradulating themselves. They run back to the smoking remains of the firework and choose one of the girls to go with them. Every one of the roman candles goes off perfectly, every time we feel the noise and hear the light crackle as much as we hear and see it. They are red, purple, and a 24-carrot gold.
And then it is done and we are packing up to go. Our voices are heavy with exaustion.
"Who's blanket is that?"
"Oh, that's mine."
"This one?"
"Yeah."
...
"Well it's been fun,"
"It sure has."
"We'll do it again."
"Every year."
"K."
"Goodbye!"
"Bye..."
We wonder back towards our cars in different directions, we climb in and we drive towards our homes and towards the stops we'll make along the way, dropping people off. We don't say a thing as we drive through the darkness with the radio singing softly over the hum of the wheels and the engine, but we're all watching the fireworks going off on either side of the road, escorting us home.
watch it burn
let it die
cuz we are finally free
tonight
Sunday, July 20, 2008
tonight i'll dream while i'm in bed while silly thoughts go through my head
Okay, this is a question from Crystal to discuss:
"What do you all think about the concept of being in time? Do you feel like you are moving through time, or like time is moving through you and you are standing still?"
And now some curious george lyrics. Because your day wouldn't be complete without them.
fall is here, hear the yell
back to school, ring the bell
brand new shoes, walking blues
climb the fence, book and pens
i can tell that we are gonna be friends
walk with me, suzy lee
through the park, by the tree
we will rest upon the ground
and look at all the bugs we've found
then safely walk to school
without a sound
well here we are, no one else
we walked to school all by ourselves
there's dirt on our uniforms
from chasing all the ants and worms
we clean up and now it's time to learn
numbers, letters, learn to spell
nouns, and books, and show and tell
at playtime we will throw the ball
back to class, through the hall
teacher marks our height against the wall
and we don't notice any time pass
we don't notice anything
we sit side by side in every class
teacher thinks that i sound funny
but she likes it when you say
tonight i'll dream while i'm in bed
when silly thoughts go through my head
about the bugs and alphabet
and when i wake tomorrow i'll bet
that you and i will walk together again
cause i can tell that we
are going to be friends
"What do you all think about the concept of being in time? Do you feel like you are moving through time, or like time is moving through you and you are standing still?"
And now some curious george lyrics. Because your day wouldn't be complete without them.
fall is here, hear the yell
back to school, ring the bell
brand new shoes, walking blues
climb the fence, book and pens
i can tell that we are gonna be friends
walk with me, suzy lee
through the park, by the tree
we will rest upon the ground
and look at all the bugs we've found
then safely walk to school
without a sound
well here we are, no one else
we walked to school all by ourselves
there's dirt on our uniforms
from chasing all the ants and worms
we clean up and now it's time to learn
numbers, letters, learn to spell
nouns, and books, and show and tell
at playtime we will throw the ball
back to class, through the hall
teacher marks our height against the wall
and we don't notice any time pass
we don't notice anything
we sit side by side in every class
teacher thinks that i sound funny
but she likes it when you say
tonight i'll dream while i'm in bed
when silly thoughts go through my head
about the bugs and alphabet
and when i wake tomorrow i'll bet
that you and i will walk together again
cause i can tell that we
are going to be friends
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
i'd like to change the world, it's easier than changing me
I hate to admit it, but all the wind has gone out of my sail about my whole little "save the world by putting my children in corrupt institutions" theory. It sounded nice but I don't think that's what this is really about.
Maybe it's really just about me being spiteful and I'm trying to not be so spiteful anymore, so let's talk about something else.
a-Ha! Song lyrics. :-)
I love this song, the lyrics are so complicated and intriguing. What do you think the message is? Or is it nonsense?
Shall I shy down?
that's boring, snoring
I'd like to
teach me to
sing in perfect harmony
And I'd like to
change the world.
It's easier than changing me
And I'd like to
find one girl
who knows me
Strum bang the drum aloud or put it down
and figure out if I'm out of line
Sit around and figure out if I'm wasting time
Wait for the sign
It's time to shine (shine) shine (shine) shine
Wait for the sign
It's time to shine (shine) shine (shine) shine
Why should I
sh-shy down?
how are you? fine.
Why should I
sit around
and be dead and never shine
It's the giant so defiant
But I'm happier if I can sleep
If I wake though, volcano
Fee Fi Fo
Fum bang the drum aloud or put it down
and figure out if I'm out of line
Sit around and figure out if I'm wasting time
(Chorus)
Living (living) fire (fire)
under my assets
I'd like to (I'd like to)
I try to (I try to)
tread tritely, so slightly
When the forest
is before us,
but we can't see for all the trees
That's when they fall,
that's when I call
The good Paul Bunyun
bang the drum aloud or put it down
and figure out if I'm out of line
Wait for the sign
It's time to shine shine shine
Wait for the sign
It's time to shine shine shine
We're out of line
It's time to shine shine shine
Wait for the sign
We're gonna shine shine shine
I've been thinking, I really don't like who I'm becoming. Or who I've become. All of the sudden it's hit me just how much I've changed for the worst this year. Do you ever find it absolutely impossible to rationalize your own behavior? That's how I feel. Why did I make all the choices I did? Why do I put myself across the way I do? There are always emotional and phychological reasons but that's not what I'm looking for, I'm looking for some shred of truth in me that does things for real reasons and not just to meet emotional needs or live up to my personality.
Tied in with that I'm realizing that grace and forgiveness are just one side of the coin, and the other is our hard and fast duty to obey God weather we understand or not. I'm really confused as I've been trying to read through the Old Testemant because I thought I had God all figured out, but then I realize I really don't understand anything he does. I guess I was thinking of him as a good humanitarian instead of an almighty force, like the one who sent that incredible thunderstorm recently. On one hand I wish he was who I want him to be, and on the other I actually have a new fear of God that makes me worship him more.
I think that contrary to what I used to think, the important things in life are those which make us feel SMALL and make God seem BIG and way beyond us. Our goal is not to understand him, our goal is to obey him.
Maybe it's really just about me being spiteful and I'm trying to not be so spiteful anymore, so let's talk about something else.
a-Ha! Song lyrics. :-)
I love this song, the lyrics are so complicated and intriguing. What do you think the message is? Or is it nonsense?
Shall I shy down?
that's boring, snoring
I'd like to
teach me to
sing in perfect harmony
And I'd like to
change the world.
It's easier than changing me
And I'd like to
find one girl
who knows me
Strum bang the drum aloud or put it down
and figure out if I'm out of line
Sit around and figure out if I'm wasting time
Wait for the sign
It's time to shine (shine) shine (shine) shine
Wait for the sign
It's time to shine (shine) shine (shine) shine
Why should I
sh-shy down?
how are you? fine.
Why should I
sit around
and be dead and never shine
It's the giant so defiant
But I'm happier if I can sleep
If I wake though, volcano
Fee Fi Fo
Fum bang the drum aloud or put it down
and figure out if I'm out of line
Sit around and figure out if I'm wasting time
(Chorus)
Living (living) fire (fire)
under my assets
I'd like to (I'd like to)
I try to (I try to)
tread tritely, so slightly
When the forest
is before us,
but we can't see for all the trees
That's when they fall,
that's when I call
The good Paul Bunyun
bang the drum aloud or put it down
and figure out if I'm out of line
Wait for the sign
It's time to shine shine shine
Wait for the sign
It's time to shine shine shine
We're out of line
It's time to shine shine shine
Wait for the sign
We're gonna shine shine shine
I've been thinking, I really don't like who I'm becoming. Or who I've become. All of the sudden it's hit me just how much I've changed for the worst this year. Do you ever find it absolutely impossible to rationalize your own behavior? That's how I feel. Why did I make all the choices I did? Why do I put myself across the way I do? There are always emotional and phychological reasons but that's not what I'm looking for, I'm looking for some shred of truth in me that does things for real reasons and not just to meet emotional needs or live up to my personality.
Tied in with that I'm realizing that grace and forgiveness are just one side of the coin, and the other is our hard and fast duty to obey God weather we understand or not. I'm really confused as I've been trying to read through the Old Testemant because I thought I had God all figured out, but then I realize I really don't understand anything he does. I guess I was thinking of him as a good humanitarian instead of an almighty force, like the one who sent that incredible thunderstorm recently. On one hand I wish he was who I want him to be, and on the other I actually have a new fear of God that makes me worship him more.
I think that contrary to what I used to think, the important things in life are those which make us feel SMALL and make God seem BIG and way beyond us. Our goal is not to understand him, our goal is to obey him.
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