You have to learn to live with the pain because sometimes pain is God's way of saying, I'm not finished with you yet. Sometimes pain is a harsh break of reality from the even harsher hell we would experience if not for that pain because every once in a while pain saves us from hell.

Who Am I To Throw The Stone?

“If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.” John 8:3-7

Grasping a pale grey stone in my white curled up fist, I heard Jesus speak the words of John 8:3-7. Words meant to calm made me more angry, more confused at the situation presented to me..and, I threw the stone. Guilt slowly filled my heart, closing in over my throat and I could hardly breathe but I bent over to pick up another stone. As I held this stone I thought about the story, about how Jesus had crouched in the sand near the prostitute and silently drew markings in the ground. I thought how he had looked with compassion, seeing right into her soul: the scorching pain that had kept her fleeing from love. As I turned the stone over in my palm, I drew in deep breaths as tears trickled down my cheeks, slowly hitting the ground beside Jesus and his hands. As he mixed my salty tears in the sand, he twisted his body to look into my eyes and said, "It is finished". Pleading with him to no go, grabbing at his garments, scurrying beside him I shouted, "Take me, I'm the one who threw the stone!" Deep sobs shook my body and I realized that he was gone.

-Lord, Father, Jesus...Please forgive me. I have no strength left to throw this stone in my hand, nor do I want to.

Hold out for the prince

For The Future

"In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord Determines his steps."-Proverbs 16:9

We had it planned out as we saw fit. We thought we knew what God had in store for our future. We were wrong, but we've been given another chance. No matter what plans we make, God will determine our steps and place us in the lives/situations/relationships we should be. He determines where we will be at the end of day.

Don't put boundaries on God!

I don't want to set my heart on a course that I'm not suppose to/will not be going on. I don't want to put my heart strings towards a future that won't happen. If we allow God to work, in our lives, surrendering our all to him, he will make our paths straight, whether or not it is with each other.

Instead, I think, we must love.

Sherlock wrote some VERY amazing stuff on love and so I'll just give in short what I think.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. 1When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.

My favourite part is that Love "always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always persevers." AND " Love never fails."

How good and awesome is it to be able to trust in a Lord who's love never fails. It will always be there.

I don't need to entertain a future with you or pretend that I know what God has in store. God gives friends, and relationships in good time. Wait for his spectacular time.

Ceasing Of Thievery

I don't know when this habit developed, but I've begun to notice that I think too much about the possibilities of my choices, both big and small, to the point where I paralyze myself from acting on anything because as I live out each option in my hyperactive imagination they somehow substitute themselves for the real experiences. It has seemed harmless until recently, where finally it hit me that my present realities are getting usurped by reveries, and that my life is wasting away because I am ignoring my ability to exercise will.

In light of those thoughts, I took a quick break from my work earlier today and rode to the beach to have my quiet time with God. Lots of thoughts pinged through my spirit en route, and soon as I arrived I gladly jotted them down so that I will remember to renew my mind in this manner:

"Sam, just choose. Choose life, optimism, adventure, identity, risk, love. Choose encouragement, hope, good, freedom, discipline, and the art of receiving. Choose to accept. Choose love. Choose forgiveness. Choose joy. Choose healing. Choose the present."

Immediately I was reminded of an old journal entry I wrote some time ago, and I made a note to dig it up because I just knew it was what I needed to simmer on. It was written in February of 2008, right after I had done a bunch of designs under the theme "The Journey Home", an exploration of our identities as the sons and the daughters of The Most High, so you may or may not recognize the scripture mash-up from some older designs:

"Thievery is a horrible crime... it's mind-numbing how much is stolen from us on a daily basis: the spoils of victory, the comforts of joy, the grandness of redemption- all of it seemingly so accessible to the thieves that stalk us from their dark alleyways and cowardly hiding places.

I think what's more heartbreaking is that we unwittingly surrender our sovereignty over these things...

... so in the end it's not thievery at all, it's more like a case of us delegating undue authority unto demons who have no right nor position over us until that moment when we actually open the door and lay out our welcome mats to them.

This unseen war between the dying flesh and the newborn spirit is an all-too-real one, with casualties far beyond our capacity to understand. Far too often it is our joy and our dreams that lay battered by the wayside, victims of unholy cunning and wit.

I say, enough.

I will delight over you with joy, calm you with my love, and rejoice over you with singing... for you are my beloved who has stolen my heart, my sons and daughters who have captivated my thoughts...

Thievery ceases in the presence of awakened identity."

I wasn't sure how to depict this thought of coming alive, until I saw in my notes that I had reminded myself a week ago to NOT FORGET and simmer on an excerpt from Henri Nouwen's book "The Return Of The Prodigal Son":

"...it is amazing to experience daily the radical difference between cynicism and joy. Cynics seek darkness wherever they go, pointing to approaching dangers, impure motives, and hidden schemes. They call trust naive, care romantic, and forgiveness sentimental. They sneer at enthusiasm, ridicule spiritual fervor, and despise charismatic behavior... in belittling God's joy, their darkness only calls forth more darkness. [But] people who have come to know the joy of God do not deny the darkness, but they choose NOT to live in it (emphasis added). They claim that the light that shines in the darkness can be trusted more than the darkness itself and that a little bit of light can dispel a lot of darkness. They point each other to flashes of light here and there, and remind each other that they reveal the hidden but real presence of God. They discover that there are people who heal each other's wounds, forgive each other's offenses, share their possessions, foster the spirit of community, celebrate the gifts they have received, and live in constant anticipation of the full manifestation of God's glory."

-Sam

I miss home.

Up

I have been up all night coughing my lungs out. It is 4:36 am and pretty down I'll be going back upstairs, settling into my bed, and attempting to sleep once again. I've been sick for so long and I'm SO tired. AHHHHH!

-We've all become bored with the childish fear that we create; one of sleepless nights and fantasy worlds that crave excitement. It's begins to make normal days a blur of nothingness.

Picking up your bags and heading West never seemed as real to me as it did sometime last week. As we packed every last one of our belongings into a moving truck and motor home, fear robbed me of the adventure that had been creeping around in my mind. I can't say that I didn't wish to stay in my comfortable home with all of my friends in reach whenever I needed them, but I also wanted to run away from the relationship problems that had been facing my happy teenage years in Ontario. Like a gust of wind, we were gone; 7 people piled into two vehicles, 3 cats, and two dogs, dissipating into a long highway to nowhere.

It was a tiring, cold, very very long, and slow process as we worked our way across the provinces to the beautiful British Columbia. Our car broke down a lot along the way. I met some new people, old friends of my parents. God worked in a lot of amazing, mysterious ways: fixing our truck with small pieces of wood from Rebecca so that we wouldn't be stranded, giving us the patience to endure a ride with flying animal hair and allergies, and showing us the precious gifts he's given us among friends. Our wits were tested hour after hour as we rode down a highway for 7 days straight. It was certainly a learning experience, people-person characteristics needed.

I'm finally at the house that God has blessed my family with here in BC. It's less spacious which will hopefully teach us how to be patient with each other and not be so attached to our worldly belongings.

Ahh. We're about halfway unpacked into our house. Emotions are whirling and everyone is exhausted. I'm sick, as always. But...miss stuff.

I think I probably miss familiarity more than anything else. I miss being able to call people up to hang out. I miss being able to fall into a hug. I miss the smell of the water and the comfort of my own bed. I miss our church and the sweet voices of the people there. I think most of all I miss smiles.

But I really don't want to talk about it. It took a lot of long blank staring to get this much information about what's going on, written down on the computer. I'm sure more will come.

I love you all.

It's all good

Actually....it's all good.
Weird eh?

Well..not ALL good.
But I haven't any time to write.

I love you Sherlock.
And I promise I'll describe in detail. Maybe whole page rant.