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The tiny town of Grantham, PA is once again coming to life. Students and teachers alike are bustling about with greater activity, already feeling the weight of deadlines and obligations. Classes are becoming interesting but not yet overwhelming. Best of all, extracurricular activities are getting underway.

Let me just say that I love extracurriculars. Between the recent opportunities fair and ice cream social for community service, I’ve signed up for more than I can remember. It’s unfortunate, really, how obtrusive classes become when there are so many other valuable options for our time. . . This year I’ll be doing the following things on a somewhat regular basis: writing for the school paper (The Swinging Bridge), working again for Phonathon, leading common chapels, working a few hours a week doing set-up and tear-down for chapel, helping with an evening church start-up on campus, volunteering with an ESL program in Harrisburg, and being a casual member of Psych club and Human Rights Awareness group. Now, I don’t say any of that to boast, but to inform you so you can be excited with me. It’s going to be a good year. I know it. And right now I’ve still had plenty of time for tossing Frisbees in the sunny September air.

I’m also looking forward to some of my classes. Mass Media and Society is exactly what it sounds like, but we’ve already had some good discussions and read some really thought-provoking articles. Principles of Sociology, although it starts at 8 AM, is also really fascinating already. Between the two of them, I’ve already been forced to think a lot about societal trends and norms; what defines them and how do they impact us?

Here’s a thought. Is truth ever defined by culture? So many things that we in the West take as common sense fact are not seen the same way around the world. For instance, let’s take a look at romantic love. It’s a completely different concept for us than it is for a lot of the world. We stress finding your true “soulmate” and fighting for love at all costs. We decry arranged marriages and weep for women with such bleak destinies; if only they could experience the freedom we have – a freedom that all are yearning for. The reality is, however, that millions of young women are married off every year to men much older than them, often as nothing more than transactions for business partnerships. As our jaws drop and our fists clench ready to defend the cause of these oppressed women, we need to remember that it was in this exact cultural context that our Bible was written.

All I’m saying is that often I feel like we need to distance ourselves from our own cultural understandings – a difficult task if we’ve never known anything different. Many people see aranged marriage as the ultimate injustice; how could anyone find happiness in such circumstances!? In our minds, in our understanding of truth, arranged marriage is bad. It impairs our pursuit of happiness. Well, millions of women do live in such circumstances and, dare I say, they probably aren’t completely miserable.

On another note, we had a discussion in Mass Media yesterday about different forms of technology. The conversation rapidly declined into another debate about the iPhone versus Blackberry. As I sat between the heated exchange with my trusty stone age phone in hand, I just couldn’t help but think, It doesn’t matter!

Honestly, I find it very interesting how these pieces of technology that were mere prototypes in a lab only a few years ago are now seen as necessary. Do we forget that for the last, oh, 6000 years of human history nobody even had email? The horror! And yet civilization trudged on, fueled by a few clever thinkers in a population of dejected citizens yearning for the day that they would be able to check their email on the go. Thank goodness for those inventors who shook off the shackles of their technological ignorance to strive for that glorious light at the end of a dark tunnel, that day when we could bring Facebook with us in our pockets. Oh, how miserable they must have been.

It’s quite relieving, actually, to not be caught up in the technology race. Well, actually I suppose we’re all in it to some degree. Let’s just not let it consume us. Especially as Christians.

I played in chapel this morning for the first time. It went really well. I got to play a djembe for this fun African-style song we did, and then just sand and played for the others. One interesting thing, though, I had a ton of people approach me throughout the rest of the day to say, “Good job this morning!” To be honest, that makes me a little uncomfortable. I’d rather hear them say, “Thanks for leading us in worship,” or something to that effect. The last thing I want to do up there is make a praiseworthy “performance.” Oh well. What can you do.

You’ll hear from me again soon. I promise.

jmb

Reflections on the Past and Future

Dear world,

Summaries are a difficult thing. Especially when, say, you encounter a friend you haven't seen in three months and your first verbal exchange is, "How was your summer?" Similar to pre-summer interactions with home friends, post-summer interactions with college friends must also be crudely reduced. I've found a simple "incredible" to be a sufficient (and truthful) response to such questions. Life, as it should be, is a daily whirlwind of challenge, growth, experience, and change, not something that can be aptly recapitulated in a brief word. The complexity of a human mind and soul is so deep that we can often barely understand ourselves, so think for a moment about the vastness of a God that can see and understand billions of minds simultaneously. ... Phew, this is getting deep.

I've been longing for the chance to write here for a while now. It's my arena for exploring the world around me and making sense of change external and internal. As always, I'm very grateful that you are reading this; I don't pretend to have anything new or profound to say, but I hope you can learn from what I've been learning. So now, as I sit in a new chair at a new desk in a new room in a new building on the same campus for the start of a new year, I'm going to write some more sounds of settling. (Clever, eh?)

The past summer was spent in part working at North Toronto Christian School and then back at camp. Throughout it all, as I always hope, I learned a lot. My responsibilities at NTCS were as diverse as possible. In any given day I might lead junior praise time in the gym, help the Junior Kindergarten class with paper mache, take the grade 2s out for extended recess, teach grade 6 gym, spend a couple hours cutting grass, collect and move garbage, mark standardized tests, and end the day selling popsicles. But I loved (nearly) every minute of it.

I returned to Camp Ke-Mon-Oya for my fourth summer as a counsellor. It was definitely the best so far. There is little I can say now to do justice to such an experience, but I can say that what really made it great was seeing God work in, around and through me. I went into the summer with strong resolutions to be devoted to the Word and prayer even in the midst of such a busy and tiring evironment. With that as a central focus, I was hoping I would find myself with more energy motivation to really impact the kids' lives. Ultimately, I wanted to be more selfless, and in hindsight I really felt like I was empowered to be just that.

Cabin devotions are every afternoon. Some quick math tells me that I've led nearly 80 since I became a counsellor. Some quick remembering shows me that very few of those have been as effective as they could have been. I was really struck this year (much thanks to Tyler for this) by how important it really is to share the Gospel. In my knowledge of God and his plan of salvation I hold the greatest gift the world could ask for and only truth it needs. How can I keep from sharing such a thing everywhere I go? Additionally, I get campers every week who have never heard the Gospel message and who do not come from Godly homes. What an opportunity! So I began to share the Gospel (as well as I can) to all my campers, young and old. Long story short, I saw three 10-year olds (two from non-Christian homes) commit their lives to Jesus and 8 or 9 teenagers really delve into the Scriptures and explore their faith like they never had before.

The latter example saw me scrambling for answers to some really tough questions, but it also showed me that God desires those kids' hearts more than I can even understand. So often we find ourselves acting ashamed of the Gospel, not because we don't believe its message, but because we simply don't know what to say. Well, let us never forget that we are not alone, especially when we are sharing God's truth. He wants to speak through us and He does. I actually found myself learning just from the things that were coming out of my mouth in my discussions with some of my older cabins. One powerful example concerns a 15-year old that I had for two weeks. His only sister is a third-year philosophy student at U of T who completely renounced her faith last year and has since been harrassing him nearly non-stop for the family faith that he still clings to. In the midst of our discussions, God prompted me to share the story of Stephen martyred for his faith, where I stumbled across Acts 6:8. "But they could not stand up to his wisdom or the Spirit by which he spoke." We were both encouraged and reminded that we are not defending an empty faith or textbook list of arguments, but that the God of Heaven and Earth is on our side, empowering us with wisdom and a Spirit that cannot be defeated.

So from the riding lawnmower to raising 15-year old believers, I'd say I had my share of memorable experiences. And if a summer (or any amount of time for that matter) can be judged by what you learn and experience, then I'd say this was a good one. You could even say, "incredible."

All of this concluded, then, only a week ago. Since then, I've moved countries once again, exchanged one set of companions for another, and embarked once again on another life-changing journey through my sophomore year.

All the growth and learning I've experienced lately has got me asking, "Now what?" Everything I learn about God and the challenges I endure will be evidenced only by visible growth and change. My biggest question, then, is what does the life of a college sophomore on fire for God look like? The life of a Christian anywhere must be markedly different from the world surrounding, but even on a campus full of believers, there must be a difference between those who profess faith and those who live a faith that is alive. My faith is alive, because the God I have faith in is very much alive.

I watched a Paul Washer sermon the other day on being a man of God. As Christian men of God, he said, we are not made to live like other men. We are conquerors who must not rest while there remains a place that God is not worshipped. We were not made to sit in front of a television set. We were not made for passions of the world. We are to have a singular passion for Christ, and being made into his image.

I'll be listening to (and reflecting on) many more sermons in the next few weeks probably. It's going to be a good weekend, reuiniting with old friends and observing the freshmen in all their awkwardness, huddling together for social comfort and scouting every crowd for potential new friends. Oh, how I remember the day.

Anyways, I should move on to other things now. I've been working on this more or less all afternoon, constantly interrupted by a steady stream of new arrivals with vans ready to be unloaded and arms to be embraced. As always, there is much more to be said and much more to learn. I pray for time for both.

Be blessed, all.
jmb

Still Joshing

Greetings, oft-neglected realm of the blog.

I've been putting this off for too long. To be honest, I've thought about writing a new post nearly every day for a couple of weeks now, but I just haven't made time for it. Not that I've had a lot of time, though. Well, I have had a lot of time, but it's been filled with work at North Toronto Christian School, time with Katrina and family, church commitments, catching up with old friends and trying to stay in touch with new new ones, etc.

Writing this blog feels different now. The incredible blur of growth and experience that was my first year has come and gone. I can't help but wonder if the readers that frequented this page to glean insight into a life unfolding will still stop by for a peek. Will those who loved to "read the sounds of settling" still humour the profound and petty musings of an adolescent mind?

Perhaps. Not to worry, though, because I write here as much for my own enjoyment as anyone else's. As usual, I've had plenty of shockingly insightful thoughts lately but my own selfishness has prevented the world at large from benefiting. Ha.. just kidding, but I do miss writing here, my personal repository of thought. Oh well. Enough of the regretful ramblings.

Life is grand. It was tough to adjust to life back at home at first. After a year of gaining independence and growing spiritually, mentally, emotionally, and a few other "ally's", it was a strange feeling to slip right back into the same routine I left. I drive to "work" with Emily and Sam, spend the day at the same school surrounded by many people I grew up with, come home to the same evening routine and dinner, then go to bed and do it all over again. Obviously there are a few major differences, but I sometimes feel conflicted trying to frantically "prove" to the world that I've changed, I really have! I feel like my perspectives, concerning both my faith and just life in general, have been enriched and widened in so many ways and it's discouraging to feel like it never happened.

That's all for now. Regardless of whether or not anybody reads this, I'll likely write another post soon. I have a lot of thoughts on facebook I've been meaning to "publish." It's fun to organize your thoughts in a public forum like this. It's encouraging to think that people care about your thoughts.

Oh. One thing quick. I changed my major from Communications to Psychology (Bachelor of Science). I'm just way more interested in people and why we do what we do than I ever was in Communication Theory.

Thanks for everything!
jmb

Tomorrow, Tomorrow

Tomorrow it all ends.
The first year of the craziest adventure of my life comes to a close.
Am I sad? Definitely.
Am I eager to be home and greet all that awaits me there? Absolutely.

Thanks for bearing with me through it all. My time for reflection will be unfortunately brief this summer, but I'm sure I'll have plenty to say at some point.

Necesito estudiar para mi examen final de espanol. (That probably wasn't even correct.)

See you on the other side!
God bless you all,
jmb

Divinely Disturbed

It's like God took an eggbeater to my ambition.

What was, only a few days ago, an evolving blueprint for college and beyond has become a disorganized mess of dreams and desires. All my self-guided plans for the next few years were finally starting to make sense, when God reached down with a divine finger and gently disturbed the calm that was finally beginning to settle. The funny thing, though? I'm more certain than ever of what I want.

It's all started with this book, you see. It's called Red Moon Rising, written by Pete Greig, one of the 'founders' of the 24-7 prayer movement that has been sweeping through colleges and churches around the world. It's part memoir, part devotional, part historical, but it's ALL inspiring. He recounts his own meaningless wanderings through Europe, as an ambitious and skeptical university grad -- a trek that finally led him to the cliffs of Portugal at the most southwestern point in Europe. There he encountered God in a way he never thought he would through a vision of thousands of young men and women around the world praying with arms outstretched. The book is the story of the fulfillment of that vision (a process that is far from ending), from the moment it was birthed almost 20 years ago to the present.

I found the book when I impulsively decided to swing by the campus prayer chapel a few weeks ago with a couple friends. We prayed about the issue of conflict diamonds in West Africa and then separated to wander around the room. The dimly lit basement room is sparsely furnished and small, but I love it. To me, it feels alive. It's like an underground cavern where busy college students can retreat from their hectic lives for a moment of quiet before the cross. There are papers for scribbling prayers, a kneeling bench, lamps, chairs, an miniature prayer wall, paintings hung on the walls, and, best of all, a table with a few scattered books and Bibles.

The first time I picked up the book to read, I was transported. I wrote a blog entry, actually, that very same night after reading and praying for nearly an hour. I never published it, though. It reads more like a journal entry, but I might post it sometime in the future when enough time has elapsed that I can look back with the wisdom of age and lightly mock the frantic musings of my youth. Anyways, I've ventured back to the prayer room a few times over the past couple weeks to read more. Drifting out of a group of friends to go read, I feel like a child sneaking to the cookie jar after the lights are off and Mom and Dad are asleep. I'm alone with only time for God to speak to me. And he has. What can I do, but offer this heart, oh God, completely to you?

Recognize those words? Nestled within one of my favorite worship songs, riding on a ponderous melody supported by clever rhymes, these words are finally starting to mean something to me. I can't recall how many times I've sung them, with never more than a passing thought to the signficance. Now, however, they seem to echo my own thoughts with profound clarity.

Honestly, what can I do but offer my heart to God. He is not just a crutch when I'm weak, a chum when I'm lonely or a doctor to heal me, he is quite simply the God of the Universe. Without him there is nothing, absolutely nothing. The Milky Way Galaxy, for all its billions of stars, is a speck in the universe. What am I, then? Physically speaking, I am a sack of flesh with opposable thumbs and inflated ego (as Dr. Schenk would say), but in God's eyes, for whatever unknowable reasons, I am somebody. I am a cherished child of God who finds all my hope and strength and being in him.

I struggle to really articulate these things, because this is really something developing within me: something that cannot be formulated or defined. All year long, I've been struggling to make sense of what God wants from me. 'Everything,' my upbringing tells me. Fine, but what does that look like?

It starts within, God's been telling me. It starts with a heart so in love with God that prayer is not a chore, it is a joy. Reading the Word of God is not a part of our daily checklist, it is our glorious opportunity to delve into God's heart and hear him speak. How often do we cry out to hear God's voice when we have a book of his own words gathering dust on our bookshelves?

I've felt simultaneously discouraged and encouraged at times this year to hear of the growth and spiritual maturing taking place in some of my friends lives, often in the midst of great hardship, as my own life glides forward and a wonderfully comfortable pace. Where are the results in my own life? I've asked God.
"I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing," he tells me. So I'm a branch and I would like some fruit. God's the vine and he can supply the nutrients for more fruit than I can handle. What does he require? For me to be connected, not by a few dangling threads or periodic devotion, but solid and unmovable.

I hope that you don't think I have all the answers from reading this. On the contrary, even my own writing is challenging me. All I'm really certain of right now is that God is stirring something within me. He used a half-hearted visit to a prayer room and a book I'd only heard of to begin to shake me up.

My peers and friends have challenged me too. The stories and faith of some inspire me, while the apathy and spiritual complacency of others spur me to be more radical. For example, the other day I woke up for chapel that was not required of me. At breakfast, people asked why I was going, and when I told them it was just because I wanted to, I was met with quizzical stares and skepticism: "Oh.. really? Why?"

Personally, I don't see what is so terrible about gathering with other believers to worship and be fed from Scripture and teaching. Sure, it may be boring at times, but if I learn even one thing, or sing one word and mean it, or hear one Bible verse in a different light, is it not worthwhile? I'm not trying to spiritually elevate myself above my peers, but I hope that maybe my own enthusiasm for corporate worship and fellowship might encourage someone else.

If you came to this page looking for a factual update on my activities and are, as of yet, still not satisfied, I partially apologize. I would not and cannot change what has been happening in my heart, and am powerless to prevent such things from overflowing. I will, however, try to update briefly.

School is wrapping up. My first year of college is sighing its last heavy breath before a tidal wave of obligations fills the void. (I hope you enjoy reading my confused metaphors as I enjoy composing them.) This past week has actually been pleasantly light in comparison with the previous few weeks, at least in the homework department. The Spitfire Grill (the musical on campus for which I was playing the in the pit band) ended on Tuesday night amidst many bittersweet tears. I really had a blast participating and I'd love to do it again. However, as disturbed as my plans currently are, I still doubt I will be around for another musical until senior year.

I realized I never really explained myself earlier. Let me try to do so briefly, although I will undoubtedly revisit the topic soon. I've always really longed to travel. Admittedly, I haven't done a lot of it outside North America, but I've always fancied myself to be the fearless travelling type who will someday play with orphans in India before disappearing like Aslan to emerge alongside indigenous tribes in the Amazon. Though this is highly unlikely, it's something I can't really ignore. I feel like many people have a desire to travel and experience other cultures and they do ignore the urge, living the rest of their days in regret.

Well, now more than ever I feel that call, and now more than ever I have the capacity to respond. There's a budding excitement in my heart about one place I've never been and will probably never have the chance to go again: China. Stay tuned.

As you can see, my attempts to explain myself as if from a third-person perspective never work. I've been busy, but not too busy. I've been learning a lot. I've been challenged. And this, as always, is only the beginning.

Love and thanks,
jmb

A Brief Report

An update...

Today was Messiah's annual Service Day. There are no classes, and students are encouraged to join an on- or off-campus service project. I helped out with the Special Olympics, hosted here at Messiah. I was "buddied" with a little boy named Byron. He was a bundle of energy and a lot of fun to be with all day. His parents were around too and were incredibly nice. If I get a chance, I'd love to write more.

Tonight is also the opening night for the Messiah Spring Musical, The Spitfire Grill. I am playing acoustic guitar in the pit band. We've had three dress rehearsals this week and there are six performances ahead, every day until Tuesday.

The day after our closing performance is the night of the Men's Ensemble concert. This afternoon will be our last practice, right before my call time for the show at 7.

Going in the other direction, Friday night was the Relay for Life here at Messiah. It was 12 hours (7 pm - 7 am) of walking and deteriorating coherency. By morning, even the notion of breakfast got us into furious fits of giggles. Thank you so much to all of you that donated. I raised over $100 dollars!

Saturday night The Curious Case of Benjamin Button was playing on campus. It was a vast departure from F. Scott Fitzgerald's original short story of the same title. A highly romanticized tale as much about the emergence and decline of Brad's beauty as the tragic story of a man utterly alone, it definitely worked wonders on me. Cate Blanchett is amazing.

Classes are going well. I was really busy with schoolwork the past two weeks, but this week, finally, is not too bad.

What I have been missing, however, is sleep. I'm practically dozing at the screen right now, so I'm going to hop in bed and have a quick nap before my busy evening. Opening night, here we come!

Thanks for reading. Sorry for the irregularity.
jmb

April Showers...

I used to think that April showers brought May flowers. Then I moved to Central Pennsylvania. Here, showers and flowers appear simultaneously. What do you know!?

Anyways, the rain is pattering on the window, birds are chirping gleefully, and some malfunctioning alarm is screaming across the parking lot. I'm writing, in part, to give myself a break from the unfortunate amount of schoolwork I've been subjected to this week. I was about to write a post on Sunday, but I made a list of upcoming assignments/tests instead. As the list grew longer, the Sunday blog faded further into oblivion. Since then I've been chiseling away at the list little-by-little, and I finally have a moment to relax a little.

If your interested in seeing the fruits of my labour, check this out. I've been working on this website for the past few weeks, but it was due on Tuesday.

Music In Toronto -- A Website Designed by Josh Boden

Modest, I know, but I don't profess to be gifted technologically or artistically. I also had a short Magazine piece due Tuesday, an essay and a large Spanish assignment due this morning, another Computers assignment for tomorrow, and lastly, like icing on the cake, I have two major tests on Friday.

Why do I write all this? Why, so you will shake your heads and click your tongues in sympathy, of course! Actually, I'll confess that I really don't have much else to write about this time around.

*(Hold on. I'm running down to put my laundry in the dryer.)

Life is tough sometimes... especially when you're on your own. Moms help. Everything is better with moms. They're free too. Around here you have to do things yourself and pay for them. God bless mothers.

Work at Phonathon is going pretty well. To be honest, I don't much look forward to going to work, but every time I get there I enjoy myself. When I'm not cordially coercing alumni and parents into donating, I'm chatting with the other callers over the repetitive drone of rings and answering machines. There are some calls that can be quite unsettling, though.

Last night I called a gentlman by the name of Bruce Hoyer. He picked up sounding tired and disinterested, immediately causing me to assume he was either going to politely decline my first ask or just hang up before I got there. As it turns out, his wife was on her deathbed in the next room. She'd been suffering from severe esophageal cancer and her throat was closing up. The man was one of the most kind and sincere people I've talked to, but his heart was just broken. He politefully answered all my questions and explained his situation as I stammered condolences and affirming sighs. Near the end of the call he actually started praying: for his wife, his daughter, and me. Suffice it to say that when it came time to ask for a donation, I asked quickly for any possible support and then hastily explained that he shouldn't feel obligated. Surprisingly, he said he'd think about it and asked me to call him back tonight. I told him I'd pray for his wife; by all means, you can pray too. Her name is Shirley Hoyer. I'll let you know what happens.

Ahem.. so, shifting gears here:
On Saturday I went to New York City again on an honors trip. Why is it significant that it was an honors trip? It's not, actually.

Tangent:
In fact, I find this whole "honors" label to be problematic. There's this silent distinction between 'honors' kids and everyone else. At honors meetings, you run into people who will say things like, "I had no idea that you were an honors student! Wow!" I have yet to figure out what that means, but in the meantime I've felt like the label can produce some form of intellectual snobbery. In reality, I know many people who work harder and arguably seem more intelligent than an "honors" student. I've even heard a few honors kids saying things like, "I know I'm more intelligent than most of my class, so I'm not too worried about this test." Give me a break. Many people asked me why I was going to New York and why they hadn't heard about the trip. Gingerly I explained that the trip was for honors students only, soliciting responses as diverse as a soft sigh and look of admiration or a bold, 'So you're one of them, huh?' The only distinction, as far as I can tell, is a slightly higher SAT score and much more pressure to succeed.

Resuming post:
So this trip was really fun. I spent the day with a few guys that I don't often hang out with, but they're all really great guys. We wandered through Times Square and surrounding area, ate in Little Italy, bought sunglasses in Chinatown, wandered through Soho and NYU, strolled through Central Park, browsed the massive gift shop at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and ate at Applebees in Midtown Manhattan. Yours truly was the trip guide. Beats my why you would trust a Canadian for directions in New York City, but I sure enjoyed it!

Friday, after my two tests, is the big spring dance (aka. Spring Fling). On Saturday our floor is hosting a big party (just for the heck of it) open to all students. We're not sure how we'll fit 200 people (or more) in our lounge, but if you're planning on making an appearance (yes, all of you are invited), dress lightly and remember it's "A Black and White Affair."

Okay, it's time to get back to work. I'm sorry if you found this sort of dull, but my striking brilliance and witty charm will only go so far when the fodder for my post is bland. You can really only write well about things you experience, so when you're experiences are limited to computer labs and textbooks, your writing takes the hit.

Alright, take care everyone.
Love you all dearly.
jmb

p.s. I'm growing quite fond of my personal following of nitpicky copy-editors. I didn't look over a single word of this post. Happy pickings!