On the morning of March 28, 2010, in Tallahassee, Florida, Conor McBride, 19, was in a prolonged fight with his girlfriend of one year. They were good kids, well-liked by friends and viewed as promising student leaders. But they had been fighting continuously for nearly 36 hours by the time morning rolled around, in person, over the phone, via text message. At first they fought about nothing, but with little sleep the hours dragged on -- emotions raged and threats were made. At one point Conor ran to his dad's bedroom and picked up his father's shotgun. He intended to scare her, but by that point had no idea what he was doing.
At 2:15 pm, Conor McBride walked into the Tallahassee Police Department, trembling. "You need to arrest me," he said, beginning to weep. "I just shot my girlfriend in the head."
In case you haven't heard, there is a lot of talk about guns in America today. It's tiresome and it's scary. But the country has a serious problem on it's hands. Like any society, America has its share of deeply troubled individuals who commit horrendous crimes with violent weapons. Unexpectedly. Tragically.
Of course there are conflicting solutions for this problem, including the call for more guns. In schools. In homes. In all arenas of civil society. Proponents here sound the rather noisy refrain, "Guns don't kill people, people kill people!"
Well, frankly I've had quite enough of that. The fact is, guns do kill people. They kill people much quicker than people kill people, at any rate. But more on that shortly. The question I have for the "people kill people" club is: who, exactly, are the people who kill people?
You see, we seem to be deluded by an odd dichotomy. There are bad people (you know, the ones who kill people) and then there are the rest of us. Them and us. We are us, and us is good. They are them, and them is bad. The thing is, ladies and gentlemen, we are all us. And, like it or not, we are all them.
We are all broken. We are all hurting. We are all fragile. We are all prone to mistakes. We are all prone to be rash. But by God's grace we can keep it together. So we trudge forward. And we slip up. And, sometimes, we snap.
Conor McBride was not a bad kid. He was not "them". He was, and is, us. And Conor snapped. But Conor snapped, tragically, within arms reach of his father's shotgun. And his ambitious, beautiful girlfriend lost her life in an instant.
By this point, we all know of Adam Lanza, the Newtown shooter. Adam Lanza had deep issues. And though we will never know how severe his issues were, we will always know that on December 14, 2012 Adam Lanza snapped. And we will henceforth always regret that Adam Lanza's mother had a room full of assault rifles. Guns she bought to use against "them." 27 people lost their lives that day at the end of legally owned firearms. 27 of us.
Today, gun sales in America have never been higher. People are stocking up to protect themselves from all sorts of bad people. You know, from "them." Consequently, America's homes are being filled with lethal weapons. And this breaks my heart.
Think of the young kids now, bullies and their victims, who will so easily sneak one of Mommy's pistols to school, just to scare the other kids. Think of the insecure and misunderstood teenage introverts, who withstand torrents of abuse at home and at school until one day they snap, and reach into Dad's well-stocked gun cabinet. Think of the man who loses his job and family, and in a moment of extreme humiliation and anguish shoots himself... with the gun bought for "them."
We think we will never be these people, and, Lord willing, we will neither be them or know them. But we must not deceive ourselves. The pressures of the world and the sin strong within make many people snap. With guns -- the guns at arm's reach in our homes -- these episodes are inevitably lethal.
Mere hours before Adam Lanza broke into Sandy Hook Elementary School, another isolated and broken young man on the other side of the world also snapped. In rural China, a 35-year old man attacked students arriving for class outside an elementary school. 20 people suffered minor injuries, and the man was immediately apprehended. The Chinese man was not so different from Adam Lanza. But guns are near impossible to obtain in China. This man's weapon was a small knife.
I hope that sensible gun legislation can be enacted in this country, as it has been all around the developed world. In the meantime let us thank God for our health, and for our safety, and for strength on our rocky paths. And let us humbly remember that we are the "them" that we fear, and only love and grace, not guns, can be the safety that we seek.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Monday, March 19, 2012
The Tragedy of KONY2012: The Viral and the Vitriol
You've most likely caught wind of this KONY2012 craze. Since this 30-minute video from the non-profit group Invisible Children was posted on YouTube two weeks ago, it has been viewed over 80 million times. In modern vernacular, this thing's gone viral.
The buzz about this video has been unbelievable, and truly unprecedented. The internet age has ushered in the most significant changes in all of human history. Never has so much been shared by so many, so quickly. Sites like YouTube have democratized the process of information sharing in the most glorious, and terrifying, of ways. But the site is primarily an arena for cheap thrills and wasting time, for videos of singing animals and dancing babies and intoxicated teenagers and dangerous stunts and music videos. And the modern human race, ever insatiable for distraction, eats this stuff up.
Enter Invisible Children. The company was founded a decade ago by Jason Russell, a young filmmaker who met some child soldiers in Uganda and decided to devote his life to setting them and their friends free. If you want to know more about them, look them up. But it's important to know that IC is primarily an awareness project, centered around Jason's vision. Make people aware of Joseph Kony (the rebel leader kidnapping the children) and Kony will be arrested. They've been traveling, lobbying, and posting videos for years to try and get the word out, and have drawn in millions of young people for the cause.
This year, IC went all out for a KONY2012 awareness campaign, centered around the video of the same name. Their goal was for 500,000 teenagers and young adults to see it. But, as I said, they got nearly a hundred million instead.
But this is the tragic part. The video is intensely personal. It tells Jason's story, shows him at home with his family, traveling Uganda, sharing his vision, his life passion, his dream for a better world. And the response to KONY2012, to Jason's dream, has been overwhelmingly critical. Every major news outlet, from the Guardian to the New York Times to CNN, has weighed in with their scrutiny. Activists from around the world have jumped on board too, offering some support, but mostly criticism. You see, the video paints a very simple picture of a very complex problem, and offers a very simple solution. It, in effect, tells young people that if they are sad about kids being soldiers, they can put up KONY2012 posters and tell their friends. Then, the U.S. army will sweep in and pummel Kony and his rebel friends. Justice will be served and Central Africa will be saved. Many argue that the campaign reeks of neocolonialism, a serving of Humanitarianism Light for entitled young people who want to change the world but don't care much for their lonely next door neighbor. And I don't totally disagree with that. There are major flaws.
But I do disagree, with my whole heart and soul, with the vitriol. Remember my comment of the glorious democratization of the internet age? Well along with it we have seen the ugliest aspects of humanity, the most unbelievable cruelty and utterly shameful conduct. It's awful. People have tweeted, blogged, facebooked, emailed, commented, and video replied the most hateful things. For every measured criticism from a respectable source, there are a thousand anonymous internet users bashing Jason and his video.
And now news has been released that Jason Russell, 32, was arrested two days ago for running naked through the streets of San Diego, pounding the walls and sidewalk, screaming incoherently in all directions, engaging in some horrifying lewd behavior. Celebrity gossip sites have jumped on board, posting videos of his antics, and a new round of horrible mockery has begun.
I feel terrible for him. Officials say that he was suffering from extreme exhaustion, dehydration, and malnutrition. IC released a statement saying he had taken all of the criticism very personally and had not slept in days. One day he was launching the most exciting movement of his life, the one that would finally set child soldiers free, the next day, he was the object of intense scorn, from the full power of the global media and anyone with an internet connection.
How could this happen? Jon Stewart has suggested that the criticism has come from the jealous media, who watched as Jason did in a week what they had been trying to do for a decade. True or not, there are some real ill-feelings involved.
Jason has created one of the most successful non-profit awareness machines in the world. He is a visionary, a strong leader, an inspiring speaker, a devoted husband and father. His episode was not the act of a deluded criminal. It was the act of a man utterly broken, utterly betrayed, utterly devastated, driven to his absolute wit's end by the harshness of unfiltered, instantaneous, global criticism.
Generally, I am an optimistic guy. But in moments like this, I start to feel kind of hopeless for humanity. Though I don't fully support IC's work, I truly cannot understand how people can be so cruel. Before we jump on board lambasting and ridiculing the poor guy any further, let's consider a few things.
First of all, the KONY2012 video is not a United Nations peacekeeping proposal. It was intended to excite high schoolers, not be scrutinized by The Guardian. It was supposed to be simple. It did not purport to be a comprehensive analysis of Central Africa conflict. So don't treat it like it did. IC openly acknowledges the video is supposed to be a simple introduction. If you're interested, by all means, look further and learn more.
Second, the video offers a simple solution, because the emphasis of Jason's company is immediacy. Awareness now. And if you don't like Jason's mission, then don't join it. If it is as ill-conceived as people say, then it will never get off the ground. The movement did not invite your opinion, unless you have something constructive to offer. Join if you like it, don't join if you don't. Simple.
Third, Jason Russell is not a self-absorbed celebrity, so the way he's been treated is appalling. I am horrified that this video of him running naked is attracting such attention. I will never watch it, and I hope you don't either. How dare we gloat in another person's pain? He is mentally and spiritually broken, and we caused it. How dare we delight in the misery of a good man and his family? For that matter, how can we delight in anyone's misery, be they a hero, a villain, or a Kardashian? But I digress...
Fourth, can't we respect his life, even if we don't respect the mission? Even if you hate his vision and think his video is stupid, he has done what most of us never will. He encountered real pain and real evil, and he poured his heart, soul, and mind into bringing hope and restoration. He is driven by a dream of seeing a better world, and he works towards it every day. So how dare we sit behind our computers, spewing spite through our anonymous fingertips at a man who is driven by the noblest of dreams?
Fifth, and last, let's just offer the guy and his family some respect. You don't have to give a penny to his organization, you can silently mock the video all you want, you can propose other ways to solve the problem, but let's just remember that we all deserve to be treated with basic dignity. If you don't have something constructive to say, don't say it, and definitely don't say it in a public forum where millions of people can see it too.
The art of silence is a practice quickly fading, or so it seems. Just because we can, doesn't always mean we should. Let's not let world-changing innovation bring more pain than healing.
- jmb
A mental health perspective on Jason's breakdown from The Atlantic
The buzz about this video has been unbelievable, and truly unprecedented. The internet age has ushered in the most significant changes in all of human history. Never has so much been shared by so many, so quickly. Sites like YouTube have democratized the process of information sharing in the most glorious, and terrifying, of ways. But the site is primarily an arena for cheap thrills and wasting time, for videos of singing animals and dancing babies and intoxicated teenagers and dangerous stunts and music videos. And the modern human race, ever insatiable for distraction, eats this stuff up.
Enter Invisible Children. The company was founded a decade ago by Jason Russell, a young filmmaker who met some child soldiers in Uganda and decided to devote his life to setting them and their friends free. If you want to know more about them, look them up. But it's important to know that IC is primarily an awareness project, centered around Jason's vision. Make people aware of Joseph Kony (the rebel leader kidnapping the children) and Kony will be arrested. They've been traveling, lobbying, and posting videos for years to try and get the word out, and have drawn in millions of young people for the cause.
This year, IC went all out for a KONY2012 awareness campaign, centered around the video of the same name. Their goal was for 500,000 teenagers and young adults to see it. But, as I said, they got nearly a hundred million instead.
But this is the tragic part. The video is intensely personal. It tells Jason's story, shows him at home with his family, traveling Uganda, sharing his vision, his life passion, his dream for a better world. And the response to KONY2012, to Jason's dream, has been overwhelmingly critical. Every major news outlet, from the Guardian to the New York Times to CNN, has weighed in with their scrutiny. Activists from around the world have jumped on board too, offering some support, but mostly criticism. You see, the video paints a very simple picture of a very complex problem, and offers a very simple solution. It, in effect, tells young people that if they are sad about kids being soldiers, they can put up KONY2012 posters and tell their friends. Then, the U.S. army will sweep in and pummel Kony and his rebel friends. Justice will be served and Central Africa will be saved. Many argue that the campaign reeks of neocolonialism, a serving of Humanitarianism Light for entitled young people who want to change the world but don't care much for their lonely next door neighbor. And I don't totally disagree with that. There are major flaws.
But I do disagree, with my whole heart and soul, with the vitriol. Remember my comment of the glorious democratization of the internet age? Well along with it we have seen the ugliest aspects of humanity, the most unbelievable cruelty and utterly shameful conduct. It's awful. People have tweeted, blogged, facebooked, emailed, commented, and video replied the most hateful things. For every measured criticism from a respectable source, there are a thousand anonymous internet users bashing Jason and his video.
And now news has been released that Jason Russell, 32, was arrested two days ago for running naked through the streets of San Diego, pounding the walls and sidewalk, screaming incoherently in all directions, engaging in some horrifying lewd behavior. Celebrity gossip sites have jumped on board, posting videos of his antics, and a new round of horrible mockery has begun.
I feel terrible for him. Officials say that he was suffering from extreme exhaustion, dehydration, and malnutrition. IC released a statement saying he had taken all of the criticism very personally and had not slept in days. One day he was launching the most exciting movement of his life, the one that would finally set child soldiers free, the next day, he was the object of intense scorn, from the full power of the global media and anyone with an internet connection.
How could this happen? Jon Stewart has suggested that the criticism has come from the jealous media, who watched as Jason did in a week what they had been trying to do for a decade. True or not, there are some real ill-feelings involved.
Jason has created one of the most successful non-profit awareness machines in the world. He is a visionary, a strong leader, an inspiring speaker, a devoted husband and father. His episode was not the act of a deluded criminal. It was the act of a man utterly broken, utterly betrayed, utterly devastated, driven to his absolute wit's end by the harshness of unfiltered, instantaneous, global criticism.
Generally, I am an optimistic guy. But in moments like this, I start to feel kind of hopeless for humanity. Though I don't fully support IC's work, I truly cannot understand how people can be so cruel. Before we jump on board lambasting and ridiculing the poor guy any further, let's consider a few things.
First of all, the KONY2012 video is not a United Nations peacekeeping proposal. It was intended to excite high schoolers, not be scrutinized by The Guardian. It was supposed to be simple. It did not purport to be a comprehensive analysis of Central Africa conflict. So don't treat it like it did. IC openly acknowledges the video is supposed to be a simple introduction. If you're interested, by all means, look further and learn more.
Second, the video offers a simple solution, because the emphasis of Jason's company is immediacy. Awareness now. And if you don't like Jason's mission, then don't join it. If it is as ill-conceived as people say, then it will never get off the ground. The movement did not invite your opinion, unless you have something constructive to offer. Join if you like it, don't join if you don't. Simple.
Third, Jason Russell is not a self-absorbed celebrity, so the way he's been treated is appalling. I am horrified that this video of him running naked is attracting such attention. I will never watch it, and I hope you don't either. How dare we gloat in another person's pain? He is mentally and spiritually broken, and we caused it. How dare we delight in the misery of a good man and his family? For that matter, how can we delight in anyone's misery, be they a hero, a villain, or a Kardashian? But I digress...
Fourth, can't we respect his life, even if we don't respect the mission? Even if you hate his vision and think his video is stupid, he has done what most of us never will. He encountered real pain and real evil, and he poured his heart, soul, and mind into bringing hope and restoration. He is driven by a dream of seeing a better world, and he works towards it every day. So how dare we sit behind our computers, spewing spite through our anonymous fingertips at a man who is driven by the noblest of dreams?
Fifth, and last, let's just offer the guy and his family some respect. You don't have to give a penny to his organization, you can silently mock the video all you want, you can propose other ways to solve the problem, but let's just remember that we all deserve to be treated with basic dignity. If you don't have something constructive to say, don't say it, and definitely don't say it in a public forum where millions of people can see it too.
The art of silence is a practice quickly fading, or so it seems. Just because we can, doesn't always mean we should. Let's not let world-changing innovation bring more pain than healing.
- jmb
A mental health perspective on Jason's breakdown from The Atlantic
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Me ... and Jesus
There's a song that plays quite often on Contemporary Christian Music (CCM) stations. I've heard it multiple times in recent weeks through the tinny ceiling speakers of Messiah's Student Union. And I think I've heard enough.
The song is called "Me and Jesus", and it's by Stellar Kart -- Christian music's pop-punk response to the enviable success of the secular Simple Plan. I apologize if you feel attached to this song in any way, but perhaps these thoughts are directed most pointedly to you.
"Me and Jesus", for me, encapsulates all that is errant in a well-meaning industry. The CCM industry was built upon a simple premise: write and release music for Christians to enjoy that glorifies God, not man. But I'm afraid the noble aims of this process have become a machine gravely mistaken, and refurbished with a new formula: take the most successful sounds of popular music, rewrite the lyrics, and repackage for Christian consumption.
I should preface by saying that I bear no personal grievance against the individuals that work so hard to oil this machine, for I believe their hearts are in the right place. But the machine runs on profits alone, and thus it has been allowed to produce some truly shameful songs...
"Me and Jesus" bears an undeniable similarity to, well, to about a thousand aching pop-punk choruses. Somewhere between the treacly consolation for those who have "hit rock bottom with nowhere left to turn" and the desperate supplication "don't give up, it's not the end" the song is virtually indistinguishable from a hundred down-and-out ballads of a similar caliber. Musically, it soars with all the originality of any bonified four-chord masterpiece. One can hardly help but weep as the singer whines his way through a litany of heart-wrenching cliches. Don't give up now. It's going to be alright. Open up your heart. After all we've been through. Love like there's no tomorrow.
And along the way, the drama is set. The picture has been painted, and it's emotional richness collides with the depth of the human condition like a housefly into the kitchen window. When it seems all hope is lost but for the paltry support of the dozen-strong cliches, and that poor despondent listener is certainly to succumb to that ... thing... she's going through, Stellar Kart pulls out the big guns:
Someone loves you even when you don't think so
Don't you know you got me and Jesus
By your side through the fight you will never be alone
On your own you got me and Jesus
Don't worry. You've got Me. And Jesus.
And suddenly, at the name of Me all pain is ceased, all death vanquished, all hope restored. Me rides in with love that saves the world. Me is here to lift your chin, to dry your eyes, to save you from yourself. Me will ... oh. Yeah. Right, and Jesus is here too.
Even now, the theological atrocity of this whole thing renders me nearly speechless. I would like very much to sit down with the aspiring young rock star who penned these words and inquire as to which took more time -- writing the lyrics for this song or spiking his hair for the music video?
I would hope he'd answer the latter, for if it's the former then we'd have to send this fellow back to Sunday School ASAP. But whether he wrote out of ignorance or idiocy is really not the issue. My bigger question is: how on earth did this song slip through the CCM machine, into the collections of Christian DJs, and onto the repeated 8-song playlist in the Union? To make things worse, the song was written over six years ago, making it something of a ... Christian classic.
Did no one stop along the way and ask, Hey, now wait a second. Since when did the consolation of man surpass, or even equal, the amazing grace of the Saviour? When did the sacrificial love of Christ take a backseat to the embrace of some Christian popstar? Why is Jesus not enough?!?
Perhaps such objections were raised, but quickly overwhelmed by the ecstatic support of CCM executives. Theology, Shmeology! This'll be a hit!
I don't know what else they could have said. For anyone who thinks just for two seconds about these words will notice there is something terribly amiss here. But maybe that's just the sorry state we're in. If so, then, Lord, we need to set our sights on you again. We need you to be more to us than profits. We need to show our love with more than pop-song imitations littered with horrendous theology. We need you to remind us that you, through all of eternity, will always be enough.
God bless us, everyone!
jmb
The song is called "Me and Jesus", and it's by Stellar Kart -- Christian music's pop-punk response to the enviable success of the secular Simple Plan. I apologize if you feel attached to this song in any way, but perhaps these thoughts are directed most pointedly to you.
"Me and Jesus", for me, encapsulates all that is errant in a well-meaning industry. The CCM industry was built upon a simple premise: write and release music for Christians to enjoy that glorifies God, not man. But I'm afraid the noble aims of this process have become a machine gravely mistaken, and refurbished with a new formula: take the most successful sounds of popular music, rewrite the lyrics, and repackage for Christian consumption.
I should preface by saying that I bear no personal grievance against the individuals that work so hard to oil this machine, for I believe their hearts are in the right place. But the machine runs on profits alone, and thus it has been allowed to produce some truly shameful songs...
"Me and Jesus" bears an undeniable similarity to, well, to about a thousand aching pop-punk choruses. Somewhere between the treacly consolation for those who have "hit rock bottom with nowhere left to turn" and the desperate supplication "don't give up, it's not the end" the song is virtually indistinguishable from a hundred down-and-out ballads of a similar caliber. Musically, it soars with all the originality of any bonified four-chord masterpiece. One can hardly help but weep as the singer whines his way through a litany of heart-wrenching cliches. Don't give up now. It's going to be alright. Open up your heart. After all we've been through. Love like there's no tomorrow.
And along the way, the drama is set. The picture has been painted, and it's emotional richness collides with the depth of the human condition like a housefly into the kitchen window. When it seems all hope is lost but for the paltry support of the dozen-strong cliches, and that poor despondent listener is certainly to succumb to that ... thing... she's going through, Stellar Kart pulls out the big guns:
Someone loves you even when you don't think so
Don't you know you got me and Jesus
By your side through the fight you will never be alone
On your own you got me and Jesus
Don't worry. You've got Me. And Jesus.
And suddenly, at the name of Me all pain is ceased, all death vanquished, all hope restored. Me rides in with love that saves the world. Me is here to lift your chin, to dry your eyes, to save you from yourself. Me will ... oh. Yeah. Right, and Jesus is here too.
Even now, the theological atrocity of this whole thing renders me nearly speechless. I would like very much to sit down with the aspiring young rock star who penned these words and inquire as to which took more time -- writing the lyrics for this song or spiking his hair for the music video?
I would hope he'd answer the latter, for if it's the former then we'd have to send this fellow back to Sunday School ASAP. But whether he wrote out of ignorance or idiocy is really not the issue. My bigger question is: how on earth did this song slip through the CCM machine, into the collections of Christian DJs, and onto the repeated 8-song playlist in the Union? To make things worse, the song was written over six years ago, making it something of a ... Christian classic.
Did no one stop along the way and ask, Hey, now wait a second. Since when did the consolation of man surpass, or even equal, the amazing grace of the Saviour? When did the sacrificial love of Christ take a backseat to the embrace of some Christian popstar? Why is Jesus not enough?!?
Perhaps such objections were raised, but quickly overwhelmed by the ecstatic support of CCM executives. Theology, Shmeology! This'll be a hit!
I don't know what else they could have said. For anyone who thinks just for two seconds about these words will notice there is something terribly amiss here. But maybe that's just the sorry state we're in. If so, then, Lord, we need to set our sights on you again. We need you to be more to us than profits. We need to show our love with more than pop-song imitations littered with horrendous theology. We need you to remind us that you, through all of eternity, will always be enough.
God bless us, everyone!
jmb
Sunday, November 27, 2011
The Boggling Blogging Blogger
The ironic thing about time is the harder you look for it, the harder it is to find.
I've long believed that there is no such thing as a "lack of time." The time we've been given is all we'll ever need. What we lack is not time, but the discipline to use it as we want to. So, hypothetically speaking, when a blogger of significantly insignificant cyber-significance continually neglects his little weblog he should not tell his familial following that he just "doesn't have time to blog." He may be better telling them straight, "I just don't make time to blog."
Deeeeep.
So I'm not apologizing for this undoubtedly boggling lack of blogging. At this point in my life, I have many priorities. The same amount of time, of course, but many important things to wedge into it. I'm still a student, a friend, a boyfriend, a brother and a son, still a Resident Assistant for 44 charming freshman guys, still a chapel leader and an employee, and still trying my best to be a devoted and faithful follower of Christ through it all. To top it all off, I'm also still occupied by the full-time application process for graduate school.
It's a sorry thing that public reflections and thoughtful recapitulations on the progression of my life must be sacrificed along the way, but I'm not sorry for a second for all the opportunities I've had this year, for all I've learned, for all I've achieved, for all I've aspired to, and for how I've been humbled and grown.
Regarding all aforementioned commitments, things continue to race along as one might expect them to. The task of summarizing even the highlights of such times is rather daunting at this moment, so if you really want to know the details, let's talk in person.
Suffice it to say, that I'm learning a lot these days. I'm being challenged and I'm being humbled, and it's no walk in the park. But I'm grateful for every opportunity I've had and am having. And I'm especially thankful lately for the blessing it is to dream about my future, and to chase those dreams. To have options and to be able to apply to 11 schools in 11 different cities with excitement overwhelming my apprehension.
But I'm most thankful for the hope I have in the God who goes with me into all of these things. The God who goes with me now. The God who is faithful, even in my unfaithfulness. The God who is strong, strong enough for all my weakness.
So in the midst of all of this, I often echo the words of David after that rather regrettable Bathsheba incident, and I'd like to share them with you now. [For the record, I cannot relate to the whole kill-a-man-take-his-wife thing, but to the notion that a hundred compelling desires can blot out the only one that really matters, I do resonate.]
Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and grant me a willing spirit to sustain me.
Amen, King David, sir ... Amen.
Over and out.
jmb
Restore
I've long believed that there is no such thing as a "lack of time." The time we've been given is all we'll ever need. What we lack is not time, but the discipline to use it as we want to. So, hypothetically speaking, when a blogger of significantly insignificant cyber-significance continually neglects his little weblog he should not tell his familial following that he just "doesn't have time to blog." He may be better telling them straight, "I just don't make time to blog."
Deeeeep.
So I'm not apologizing for this undoubtedly boggling lack of blogging. At this point in my life, I have many priorities. The same amount of time, of course, but many important things to wedge into it. I'm still a student, a friend, a boyfriend, a brother and a son, still a Resident Assistant for 44 charming freshman guys, still a chapel leader and an employee, and still trying my best to be a devoted and faithful follower of Christ through it all. To top it all off, I'm also still occupied by the full-time application process for graduate school.
It's a sorry thing that public reflections and thoughtful recapitulations on the progression of my life must be sacrificed along the way, but I'm not sorry for a second for all the opportunities I've had this year, for all I've learned, for all I've achieved, for all I've aspired to, and for how I've been humbled and grown.
Regarding all aforementioned commitments, things continue to race along as one might expect them to. The task of summarizing even the highlights of such times is rather daunting at this moment, so if you really want to know the details, let's talk in person.
Suffice it to say, that I'm learning a lot these days. I'm being challenged and I'm being humbled, and it's no walk in the park. But I'm grateful for every opportunity I've had and am having. And I'm especially thankful lately for the blessing it is to dream about my future, and to chase those dreams. To have options and to be able to apply to 11 schools in 11 different cities with excitement overwhelming my apprehension.
But I'm most thankful for the hope I have in the God who goes with me into all of these things. The God who goes with me now. The God who is faithful, even in my unfaithfulness. The God who is strong, strong enough for all my weakness.
So in the midst of all of this, I often echo the words of David after that rather regrettable Bathsheba incident, and I'd like to share them with you now. [For the record, I cannot relate to the whole kill-a-man-take-his-wife thing, but to the notion that a hundred compelling desires can blot out the only one that really matters, I do resonate.]
Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and grant me a willing spirit to sustain me.
Amen, King David, sir ... Amen.
Over and out.
jmb
Restore
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Whirlywind
Dear world,
Here we are again. Another whirlwind series of months since my last post, spanning 3 countries, half a dozen cities, seven days of cruising, five weeks of work, seven weeks of camp, one crucial exam, one family reunion with 37 boisterous Bodens, four visits with one special lady, 10 days of RA training, 44 freshmen guys, and a partridge in a pear tree. It's been quite a ride. No joke.
But through all of that -- the silly, the thrilling, the sad, and even the little bit of bad -- I find myself here again on another hazy Pennsylvania morning with likely much to do, but with little incentive to do any of it. So I greet you, my long-neglected but ever-loyal cyber chums, and I thank you for your interest in this little life of mine.
Each number in that litany of statistics above could be expanded upon greatly. But to boil it all down, it was a fantastic summer, but it sure was busy. I was the Program Director at camp again, my second year in the position and sixth year working up there. I also had to be back on campus for RA training on August 17th. So my summer, essentially, was the month of June, in which time I turned 21, worked full time for 4 weeks, studied every night for the GRE, wrote the GRE, and got camp program prepared.
Then there was camp, which went swimmingly. It was not without its challenges, as much to me personally as to the camp as a whole, but in unexpected ways, as I suppose it always is, we saw God work in and through his people. Interestingly, at camp we (the counselors) talk often of sharing Christ with the campers, of enlightening them through word and deed to the love of God in their lives. And yet time and time again, it is the counselors who come away from this ministry having been touched themselves so personally and powerfully by the hand of God, and who come, through serving and living by faith, to know God more deeply in their own lives.
So that is that. I don't have much time these days for looking behind, though, for it is the future that presently holds my attention. I'm in the midst of grad school applications, which seem quite profoundly to start as grad school aspirations. I'm interested in the field of school psychology, and to get there I'm looking at doctoral programs. Big stuff. But somewhere between looking at programs and studying in programs is a grueling application process seemingly contrived to beat bright-eyed applicants to their knees in submission before silent committees of high-brow academics who scrutinize your paper-sized life and survey the grades that have now become the ultimate manifestation of your God-given potential.
Thankfully, the God who gave me potential is the God in control. Of everything. What blessed assurance indeed.
So if you are a praying person, I'd appreciate prayers to that end. And if you are not a praying person, why not give it a whirl? At worst, you'd just be talking to yourself, but at best you'd be entering into time with the God above all things, the Creator bringing love and restoration and hope to a world that would be lost without it. It's worth a shot.
Have a holly jolly Tuesday, everybody!
jmb
Here we are again. Another whirlwind series of months since my last post, spanning 3 countries, half a dozen cities, seven days of cruising, five weeks of work, seven weeks of camp, one crucial exam, one family reunion with 37 boisterous Bodens, four visits with one special lady, 10 days of RA training, 44 freshmen guys, and a partridge in a pear tree. It's been quite a ride. No joke.
But through all of that -- the silly, the thrilling, the sad, and even the little bit of bad -- I find myself here again on another hazy Pennsylvania morning with likely much to do, but with little incentive to do any of it. So I greet you, my long-neglected but ever-loyal cyber chums, and I thank you for your interest in this little life of mine.
Each number in that litany of statistics above could be expanded upon greatly. But to boil it all down, it was a fantastic summer, but it sure was busy. I was the Program Director at camp again, my second year in the position and sixth year working up there. I also had to be back on campus for RA training on August 17th. So my summer, essentially, was the month of June, in which time I turned 21, worked full time for 4 weeks, studied every night for the GRE, wrote the GRE, and got camp program prepared.
Then there was camp, which went swimmingly. It was not without its challenges, as much to me personally as to the camp as a whole, but in unexpected ways, as I suppose it always is, we saw God work in and through his people. Interestingly, at camp we (the counselors) talk often of sharing Christ with the campers, of enlightening them through word and deed to the love of God in their lives. And yet time and time again, it is the counselors who come away from this ministry having been touched themselves so personally and powerfully by the hand of God, and who come, through serving and living by faith, to know God more deeply in their own lives.
So that is that. I don't have much time these days for looking behind, though, for it is the future that presently holds my attention. I'm in the midst of grad school applications, which seem quite profoundly to start as grad school aspirations. I'm interested in the field of school psychology, and to get there I'm looking at doctoral programs. Big stuff. But somewhere between looking at programs and studying in programs is a grueling application process seemingly contrived to beat bright-eyed applicants to their knees in submission before silent committees of high-brow academics who scrutinize your paper-sized life and survey the grades that have now become the ultimate manifestation of your God-given potential.
Thankfully, the God who gave me potential is the God in control. Of everything. What blessed assurance indeed.
So if you are a praying person, I'd appreciate prayers to that end. And if you are not a praying person, why not give it a whirl? At worst, you'd just be talking to yourself, but at best you'd be entering into time with the God above all things, the Creator bringing love and restoration and hope to a world that would be lost without it. It's worth a shot.
Have a holly jolly Tuesday, everybody!
jmb
Friday, April 29, 2011
Viskas.
Viskas. This word means, "That's it" in Lithuanian. As I sit here studying for my final final tomorrow morning, I really feel like I am approaching Viskas. And it's kind of sad.
More reflections are sure to come, but last week I finished a final paper for my Cross Cultural class and I'll share that for now instead. If you are interested in some of my general impressions of the experience, prašom skaityti (please read [I need to use as much Lithuanian as possible now. I likely won't ever get to use it again.]).
Thinal Foughts on Life in Lithuania
Speaking of Lithuanian, I had a simple, but remarkably long, conversation with a lady in Senamiestas (Old Town) today. It was glorious. I hope you are as proud of me as I am of me.
But back to the sad bit. There are things that have pulled me so strongly back home throughout this whole semester (friends, family, and a certain lovely lady) that continue to draw me even more intensely as the reunions approach. Yet simultaneously there is so much about this place that holds me here. As the sun shines brilliantly and the gray turns to green all over the country ["pavasaris" = spring], I feel sometimes as if I am seeing this place for the first time. But I'm not. It's the same place it has always been. It just took a little springtime sunlight (and four months of challenge) to illuminate my love for it.
But the blogoglobe is no place for such sappy sentimentality. Except to express, for all who care to know it, the impression this country, this part of the world, these people, this language, these friends, have made on me. Indelible impressions indeed.
Gerai draugiai. Viskas dabar. (Okay, my friends. That's all for now)
jmb
More reflections are sure to come, but last week I finished a final paper for my Cross Cultural class and I'll share that for now instead. If you are interested in some of my general impressions of the experience, prašom skaityti (please read [I need to use as much Lithuanian as possible now. I likely won't ever get to use it again.]).
Thinal Foughts on Life in Lithuania
Speaking of Lithuanian, I had a simple, but remarkably long, conversation with a lady in Senamiestas (Old Town) today. It was glorious. I hope you are as proud of me as I am of me.
But back to the sad bit. There are things that have pulled me so strongly back home throughout this whole semester (friends, family, and a certain lovely lady) that continue to draw me even more intensely as the reunions approach. Yet simultaneously there is so much about this place that holds me here. As the sun shines brilliantly and the gray turns to green all over the country ["pavasaris" = spring], I feel sometimes as if I am seeing this place for the first time. But I'm not. It's the same place it has always been. It just took a little springtime sunlight (and four months of challenge) to illuminate my love for it.
But the blogoglobe is no place for such sappy sentimentality. Except to express, for all who care to know it, the impression this country, this part of the world, these people, this language, these friends, have made on me. Indelible impressions indeed.
Gerai draugiai. Viskas dabar. (Okay, my friends. That's all for now)
jmb
Thursday, April 14, 2011
The Adventures of Joshelberry Funn
Dear internet (and people who use it),
The birds are chirping, the ice is finished melting, the sun is (sorta) shining, and life at LCC plows on full speed to the end. Though I feel great pressure to, I will not offer any obligatory apologies for my prolonged absence from this page. Nope. I will have no regrets, I tell you. For, you see, when a man is not on the internet piddling away his time and tap-tap-tapping his memories onto his 14.1" screen, I suppose he is instead spending his time living life to the full, or at least trying his best to.
In my case, I can assure you that this is the truth. Life has been a whirlwind of smaller whirlwinds, through it all -- the good, the bad, the wonderful, and even the little bit of boring. Yes, I said boring. But the great thing about being bored on the other side of the world is that you must only remind yourself that you are, in fact, on the other side of the world and such moments cease to be so dull.
Deep thought #1: Aren't we always on the other side of the world?
But I have not had much time for being bored. So let me highlight a few things that have happened lately. In my last post, I mentioned a quiz show game night thing. We lost. But life goes on. And it went on, in fact, and took me to the Parade of Stars, 2011. Parade of Stars is LCC's big cultural event, where all the countries here put on a performance or play of some sort and compete through various stages to win the prize. Being the multinational Canuck that I am afforded me the honor (sans "u") of joining Team America, whose clearly quite perceptive members promptly assigned me the role of Superman.
Long story short, I danced around in borrowed blue tights and red shorts, pretending to explore the Land of Liberty and all the while extolling its great virtues. We did quite well, if I do say so myself, but we ultimately ceded our prize to Team Latvia who fairly won the title but crushed our American imperialistic spirits. Ah well. Life goes on.
And it took me forward through many busy days and memorable times with new friends, challenging discussions and eye-opening experiences.
Deep thought #2: Every experience can be eye-opening. You just have to keep them open the whole time.
Then this past week, my roommate and good friend Anton and I took a trip to Copenhagen. Ohh boy. Where to begin? Well, being the fiscal fellows that we are, we decided to make this trip as cheap as humanly possible, never mind the fact that our destination was one of the most expensive cities in the world. So for us that meant pinching pennies on everything we could. On things like transportation and shelter, for example. You know.. dispensable things like that. We planned on CouchSurfing while in the city, which for those of you unaware is a network of people around the world who post available couches for travelers to come sleep on for free, and in turn get to travel themselves. We found a place to stay just outside the city, and it was great! Our hosts were very pleasant, mild-mannered, thoughtful folk who baked us cookies and gave us full access to their little flat for no fee other than our polite presence and storytelling. (There are good people in the world.)
The real adventure, though, was traveling to and from. Also, we reasoned why spend money on a bus when you could, you know, hitchhike or something!? We flew into Gothenburg, Sweden, and made the trek 200 kilometers down to Copenhagen within a day. On the way down, it more or less proceeded without a hitch. You meet fascinating people when you just stick your thumb out on the side of the road, as it turns out. We got lifts from an Arab couple, a couple African dudes, some Swedish engineers, and a chap from Kosovo. Fascinating people, all of them.
We spent a few delightful days in the city, and then began our trek back up to Gothenburg. At first, things were fine. We were a little short on money for the train out of the city, but the ticket-checker was so excited that I was Canadian, that he offered us a few helpful pointers and proceeded to chat hockey stats with me until we made it. I love Danish people.
So then we got a lift from an airport technician in a rad sports car into Sweden. From there we camped out and enjoyed a roadside picnic until a nice Swedish couple picked us up and took us 50 kilometers north, but not before stopping in on a few errands on the way while we dutifully smiled in the backseat. We slowly realized Swedish people are much less friendly to hitchhikers on Saturdays, as our next two rides took us only a matter of kilometers further.
Suddenly it was evening and we were too far from Gothenburg to make our night bus to the airport. Nevertheless, our only option was to wait by the roadside until something happened. Well, something happened, but not until after the sun had set. You see, it is very dangerous to be on the side of the road at night time, so when we realized we were stuck there with no flashlight and no hope for a ride, we decided to walk the 7 miles into the nearest town to find a train. What ensued were some of the most harrowing minutes of my life. As we skirted down a Swedish highway and lightning-quick late night traffic skirted by us. Then to our simultaneous great horror and relief, a cop car screeched to a halt in front of us with lights and sirens wailing. I am not sure which is more illegal -- hitchhiking or being on the side of the road at night, but it quickly became apparent that neither really mattered. In a staggering display of the true Police spirit, they both served and protected us. A firm lecture on the dangers of our endeavours was all we had to pay for a free lift to the train station... and a conversation that quickly turned to "Oh! No way! I have family in Canada! blah.. blah..blah"
So that is that. And oh yeah. Copenhagen is a beautiful place.
Well, my friends. If all these travel stories are making your head spin then I regret to tell you that I am about to leave for a weekend trip to Latvia and Estonia with the Study Abroad program here. Well, actually I do not regret anything. No regrets, remember? Right on.
Well, thanks for your time. Remember: God loves you, and so do I!
jmb
The birds are chirping, the ice is finished melting, the sun is (sorta) shining, and life at LCC plows on full speed to the end. Though I feel great pressure to, I will not offer any obligatory apologies for my prolonged absence from this page. Nope. I will have no regrets, I tell you. For, you see, when a man is not on the internet piddling away his time and tap-tap-tapping his memories onto his 14.1" screen, I suppose he is instead spending his time living life to the full, or at least trying his best to.
In my case, I can assure you that this is the truth. Life has been a whirlwind of smaller whirlwinds, through it all -- the good, the bad, the wonderful, and even the little bit of boring. Yes, I said boring. But the great thing about being bored on the other side of the world is that you must only remind yourself that you are, in fact, on the other side of the world and such moments cease to be so dull.
Deep thought #1: Aren't we always on the other side of the world?
But I have not had much time for being bored. So let me highlight a few things that have happened lately. In my last post, I mentioned a quiz show game night thing. We lost. But life goes on. And it went on, in fact, and took me to the Parade of Stars, 2011. Parade of Stars is LCC's big cultural event, where all the countries here put on a performance or play of some sort and compete through various stages to win the prize. Being the multinational Canuck that I am afforded me the honor (sans "u") of joining Team America, whose clearly quite perceptive members promptly assigned me the role of Superman.
Long story short, I danced around in borrowed blue tights and red shorts, pretending to explore the Land of Liberty and all the while extolling its great virtues. We did quite well, if I do say so myself, but we ultimately ceded our prize to Team Latvia who fairly won the title but crushed our American imperialistic spirits. Ah well. Life goes on.
And it took me forward through many busy days and memorable times with new friends, challenging discussions and eye-opening experiences.
Deep thought #2: Every experience can be eye-opening. You just have to keep them open the whole time.
Then this past week, my roommate and good friend Anton and I took a trip to Copenhagen. Ohh boy. Where to begin? Well, being the fiscal fellows that we are, we decided to make this trip as cheap as humanly possible, never mind the fact that our destination was one of the most expensive cities in the world. So for us that meant pinching pennies on everything we could. On things like transportation and shelter, for example. You know.. dispensable things like that. We planned on CouchSurfing while in the city, which for those of you unaware is a network of people around the world who post available couches for travelers to come sleep on for free, and in turn get to travel themselves. We found a place to stay just outside the city, and it was great! Our hosts were very pleasant, mild-mannered, thoughtful folk who baked us cookies and gave us full access to their little flat for no fee other than our polite presence and storytelling. (There are good people in the world.)
The real adventure, though, was traveling to and from. Also, we reasoned why spend money on a bus when you could, you know, hitchhike or something!? We flew into Gothenburg, Sweden, and made the trek 200 kilometers down to Copenhagen within a day. On the way down, it more or less proceeded without a hitch. You meet fascinating people when you just stick your thumb out on the side of the road, as it turns out. We got lifts from an Arab couple, a couple African dudes, some Swedish engineers, and a chap from Kosovo. Fascinating people, all of them.
We spent a few delightful days in the city, and then began our trek back up to Gothenburg. At first, things were fine. We were a little short on money for the train out of the city, but the ticket-checker was so excited that I was Canadian, that he offered us a few helpful pointers and proceeded to chat hockey stats with me until we made it. I love Danish people.
So then we got a lift from an airport technician in a rad sports car into Sweden. From there we camped out and enjoyed a roadside picnic until a nice Swedish couple picked us up and took us 50 kilometers north, but not before stopping in on a few errands on the way while we dutifully smiled in the backseat. We slowly realized Swedish people are much less friendly to hitchhikers on Saturdays, as our next two rides took us only a matter of kilometers further.
Suddenly it was evening and we were too far from Gothenburg to make our night bus to the airport. Nevertheless, our only option was to wait by the roadside until something happened. Well, something happened, but not until after the sun had set. You see, it is very dangerous to be on the side of the road at night time, so when we realized we were stuck there with no flashlight and no hope for a ride, we decided to walk the 7 miles into the nearest town to find a train. What ensued were some of the most harrowing minutes of my life. As we skirted down a Swedish highway and lightning-quick late night traffic skirted by us. Then to our simultaneous great horror and relief, a cop car screeched to a halt in front of us with lights and sirens wailing. I am not sure which is more illegal -- hitchhiking or being on the side of the road at night, but it quickly became apparent that neither really mattered. In a staggering display of the true Police spirit, they both served and protected us. A firm lecture on the dangers of our endeavours was all we had to pay for a free lift to the train station... and a conversation that quickly turned to "Oh! No way! I have family in Canada! blah.. blah..blah"
So that is that. And oh yeah. Copenhagen is a beautiful place.
Well, my friends. If all these travel stories are making your head spin then I regret to tell you that I am about to leave for a weekend trip to Latvia and Estonia with the Study Abroad program here. Well, actually I do not regret anything. No regrets, remember? Right on.
Well, thanks for your time. Remember: God loves you, and so do I!
jmb
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