[+/-] CR4

This week was hard. I was a counselor at children's camp. The main problem was that I wasn't up to it. I was, of course, coming off a one-night turnaround from my previous week of camp, and I had spent a good portion of that night driving around with friends. I've done back-to-back weeks of counseling before with some success, but this week I just wasn't up to it. Of course, my kid's were exasperating. Most of them were naturally hyper and obedience-challenged, and they figured out fairly early on that they didn't really have to listen to a word I said. Much of my time was spent drawing on my considerable supply of patience to bend a half-dozen little jerks to my will through sheer persistence. Wasn't much fun.
A few disturbing things came up during the course of the week. The first was that I realized the extent to which the music I'm playing in my head affects my whole perception of the world. I really like Evanessence, but it makes me a totally gloomy and ineffective person. I realized that it's often my duty to make myself feel happy, for the sake of those around me. That means I can't always sing the songs I feel like singing, and that's really annoying.
The second thing is that I seemed to slide back into this despairing "I'm on my own" mindset I had the first week I counseled. I remember at several points that week feeling overwhelmed and thinking that I should pray for God to give me strength, and then thinking "why bother? I really don't believe it'll do anything." I believe that when life sucks and I feel like I can't go on, I am on my own. Yes, there is only one set of footprints. No, he is not fucking carrying me. Some wisdom from Adventures in Odyssey: "Grace is never measured in excess, and strength always comes when you are at your weakest. Not when you think you're at your weakest, when you truly are. So be strong in the strength that you have, and the rest will be added to you. It will be just enough." I think that's true. Yes, God is faithful, but this is what it means: "he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it." God's promise is that life will suck, but it won't overwhelm you. Actually, you may well be taken right to the point of being overwhelmed, but if you try your hardest, you will be able to survive. That's not much comfort when life sucks.
But...
As much as I'd like to be really tragic about all this, there is another side to the story. I did receive comfort, support and encouragement this week, though not directly from God. (10 points if you guessed it was from other people.) This is the story of my life. I am a man who survives without God. Be in awe of me; I am Jacob, and I am strong. Yet I am deeply dependent on those around me. Some of them are like myself, living with the knowledge but not the experience of God, and they encourage me that I am not alone. Others are actually able to personally, tangibly interact with God, and they encourage me that He is there, He loves us, and He still involves himself in our affairs. Where would I be without these people? Maybe Dead. (And in heaven, in the very presence of God. Huh, I guess that defeats my point. Best to just ignore this.)
Huh, these things are getting harder and harder to write. I think because I'm forced to do it exactly once a week, and I have big time constraints and so on. My Dad's trying to get me to go to bed, so I will once again cut things short.
What can I tell you in a short time that will seem smart and make you like me, or worry about me, or feel compelled to think or pray about me? What can I do that will be noteworthy or real, or somehow of substance or value or even just interest?
(Note: If I was a good writer or an intelligent person, the questions above would be followed by an answer. But I am neither, I am just a man coming to grips with myself - my stengths and weaknesses, my peculiarities, and my strange and all-defining relationship with an unreachable God.)

[+/-] Damp Kneecap: Weak 3

Hm, I don't really feel like writing right now.  Mostly I'm not sure what to say.  I was an assistant Director this week, which is not nearly so much work as counseling, which I'm doing next week.  All I can think about now is that I don't want to be a counselor tomorrow.  Crap.  Crap, crap, crap.  alright, let's do this.
I had a kind of ok week.  I'm still trying to do this get back to the being a good Christian thing.  It's kind of boring, almost annoying.  It's like deciding to start running, or eating healthy, or any of these things that people do.  Even though I know in my mind that starting to read my Bible and pray again won't solve all my problems and make me happy and actually feel closer to God, it's still kind of disappointing when it doesn't happen.  I've been telling myself for months that this is the way Christianity is, you just do the stuff you're supposed to do and there's nothing mystical or super-exciting about it, but man, it's still lame.
So I'm not sure how I feel.  I'm not depressed.  I'm not angry or frustrated or confused.  But I'm not particularly happy either.  Content?  Almost, except that I'm a counselor again in a few hours.  I did what I set out to do: I read and prayed this week.  It did nothing for me, but that doesn't really bug me.  I will do my best to stick with this, even though I see no point.  The speaker this last week said the only real reason he can think of to pray is that God wants us to.  I wonder if that's the only reason to do anything he tells us to do.
Ok, I'm gone again.

[+/-] Camp Recap: Week 2

Turbo mode.  I have a lot of things that need to be done in not very much time.  I will try to write quickly and concisely.
Something weird about just being at camp - this one camp in particular that I was at last week.  Just talking to people who are more conservative than I would ever consider being.  They believe things that I would dismiss without even giving them a fully formed rebuke, unless they're coming out of the mouth of someone sitting right in front of me.  Such simple faith.  I also read through my Journal for the past year, just to get a sort of idea of where I've been.  And maybe it was the journal,  maybe it was this environment, maybe it was just my time, but I decided that I've been stupid.
I actually realized several things, all of which seem glaringly obvious now.  It makes me wonder why none of you told me this earlier.  Maybe you were afraid to.  Actually, it's more likely that you have been saying this all along, and I've just never paid attention.  Like I said, some things are so foreign to my current mode of thought that I feel like I can dismiss them without really considering them.  What I realized was the following:

1. I have been fighting against God.

2. This is a stupid thing to do.

3. I am ruled, to a large degree, by the desire to have a dramatic, interesting existence.  It excites me that I can write things that people will be interested in reading.  I like feeling bad and saying so, because it makes for more interesting conversation. 

4. My desire for drama makes it difficult for me to simply come back to God when I realize I'm being stupid.  I want to hold out for some big, climactic event, where I can look back years later and say "This amazing thing happened, and it turned my life around."  This desire is hindering me.

[Stupid side note: they changed the format on my blog writer thing.  It's frustrating me, because I can't seem to make it look the way I want it to.]

Anyway, at some point last week I realized that I was struggling against God without reason - not even a lousy, human reason.  I was doing this out of habit, and because I want to make God do something big and exciting to draw me back to him.  Sure, I can say that I'm holding back because I have unanswered questions or whatever, but this is silly, because they don't really weigh on my mind as much as I try to believe they do.  Basically, I've been screwing around here for too long.  I've been holding out because I don't want to just be lukewarm, and have struggles and doubts but not have the guts to face up to them.  I now realize that my holding out it's self is totally lukewarm.  I've crawled all over this stuff, nothing new is happening.  I'm not going to come to a place where all my doubts and issues are dealt with, and I'm not going to have God come down and be real to me, so I'm just stagnating here.  I can't keep being a sort-of, kind-of Christian, a "ya, but" Christian, an "I've got special circumstances and a note from my mom, so I get to sit out this game" Christian.  I've got to either start playing by the rules, or get off the field.

What that all means: I need to start praying again.  Not these demanding, ironic, or hopeless prayers that I've occasionally thrown up.  I need to get back to real prayer.

I need to start reading my Bible again.  Who cares if I "never got anything out of it".  For one thing, I probably did, I just don't remember now.  For another, God told me to.  (Actually that's the only reason I need for any of this stuff.  As Paul would say, "Shut up, you lump of clay.  Who do you thing you are?")

I need to get over myself and start living for other people.  I've been doing this just a little bit, I've been working on it for years, but I've still got a long, long way to go and I can't afford to slack off.  It's not about me.  That's philosophical bullshit.  That's man's truth.  I need to embrace the foolishness of God: I can live for others.  I can die to myself.  I can, and I will, and it starts now.

(Nothing dramatic or fantastic about any of this.  This is not a great event, it is just a choice.  This is not stirred up passion, it is just a choice.  This is not even a change of direction, unless I make it last.  until then, it is just a choice.  God help me, and I will do this.  We will do this.)

[+/-] Camp Recap

I was well into my post-camp report when my computer froze and I lost it. That makes me very angry. I'm taking it as a sign to be lazy about this, and maybe do some quick cut and paste from an email I sent (under normal circumstances, this is a strict no-no) and generally do a shoddy job. Enjoy.
My week went about the way I expected it to. Could have been better, could have been worse. I only had to do cabin devos 3 times, and I just kept it to the topics I could speak confidently on, mainly that living the way the Bible tells us to is a good idea. The camp is a really conservative, really Gospel-focused place, so I heard the gospel about 3 or 4 times a day, often in a fairly high-pressure manner, which I really disliked (though I actually enjoyed it last year). The main trial for me this week was just keeping my patience, never getting angry with my 7 10-year-olds who didn't do what I told them to. But I did quite well.
I think often I really want to see something dramatic happen. I want to bring things to some kind of climax where I force God to either reveal himself to me or leave me alone, but he always seems to diffuse these situations, defeating my attempts at drama and finality in the most mundane possible way. I really dislike casual spirituality, and I want to become either hot or cold, but I can't seem to achieve that.
Ok, that's enough cut and paste. I'll try to pull up my socks. I'll tell you about one of my experiences from the past week.
The speaker (for whom I have a lot of respect) came up to my table and asked one of my boys if he was a Christian. The boy said he was - his Mom said so. Apparently, she'd prayed the Prayer with him when he was 2 or 3. I could see the preacher wasn't too happy about that - maybe he thought a 2 year old doesn't have the reasoning abilities to make that decision. He encouraged the kid to consider praying again, "just in case". The boy agreed. I focused on my peas and tried not to show my distaste. The preacher said "Why don't you pray with your counselor?" The boy agreed. I put down my fork, forced a smile and consented to lead this boy to salvation. The preacher left, the boy folded his hands, and I had him repeat a few lines after me. I watched him closely. When the prayer was done, he picked up his fork and continued eating. No change was visible in his countenance or his behavior. It made me think - this kid's mom sat him down and made a Christian out of him when he was 2 years old, so that she'd feel good about her son being "saved". Now he's 10 and we've got him here at our Bible Camp, and we Cristianize him again so we can feel good about our camper being saved. We do this all the time. We give them the gospel three times a day, we ram this down their throats, we'll do anything to get these kids to agree with us. And what chance does a 10 year old kid have against a charismatic preacher, the perception that everyone around them is a doing this, the camp atmosphere? I listen to all these sermons and think "ya, but..." a dozen times. A 10 year old can't do that. A 2 year old praying the Prayer with his Mom isn't choosing Jesus - can a 10 year old sift through all these assertions and make an educated decision? (Can anyone?)
Hm, where do I go from here? I'm listening to Evanescence right now. I could say something like this:

now I will tell you what I've done for you
50 thousand tears I've cried
screaming deceiving and bleeding for you
and you still won't hear me
don't want your hand this time I'll save myself
maybe I'll wake up for once
not tormented daily defeated by you
just when I thought I'd reached the bottom
I'm dying again

But that's not really fair. I long for drama. I want to be really close to God, but if I can't, I'll try to be really far away. I hate this emotionlessness that so often rules me. I want you to feel something powerful when you read this. I want to see fear in your eyes when you talk to me. I want to feel pain.

I feel like water running down. Mingled and entwined in my heart are the desires to scream and destroy and the desires to love and give. Love not for the loving, but for the passion and yearning and hurting. Give not for the giving, but for the emptying, the bleeding, the loss. I wish I could play the piano like a demon. I'm full of a gentle fury, and if I was a wicked pianist I could scream and pound and whisper, bleeding my dark soul through my fingertips in a symphony of beautiful cold noise.

That's an excerpt from my Journal from April. I think it captures quite well this dark mood that I often assume. (I'm not too sure where the piano stuff came from, except that I've always wanted to be an incredible pianist - just not enough to devote my life to becoming one. Don't tell my Mom, she'll say I shouldn't have quit my lessons. It's not like that.)
Ok, wow. I don't know what I'm talking about any more. Maybe what I need most is the ability to be content with an average life, and average faith, average feelings and an average relationship with God. Weird, in some ways I'm so lacking in motivation, so content with just doing the easy thing, but in other areas, I'd rather ruin myself than accept mediocrity. I've convinced myself that my relationship with God is all that matters, and I will not compromise that. Maybe (I doubt you'll agree with me) I just need to come to grips with being lukewarm. Bla, I don't like this entry. I don't like these feelings. I'm going to go pack for camp.

[+/-] the Eleventh Hour

It's all about me. I am the center of my universe. Everything that happens is significant only as far as it affect me. I am the source, I am the reason, I am the life and the heart and the goal. I am an isolated, unfathomable, all-significant being floating through a sea of stimuli. Events and people have value only to the degree that I give it to them. God is significant only if I make him so - if I attach meaning to his existence, then he will exist. If I ignore him, he is nothing.
Of course, people, events, and God probably exist separate from my perception. Every other person on the planet presumably is also an all-important I, weighing and validating my own existence by their own self-serving criteria. God probably exists, probably created me, and probably loves me. He alone would have the power to blow my inward-focused existence to atoms, overriding my senses and will with his own searing brilliance. But as long as He chooses not to, I can choose to obsess over Him or disregard Him. And really, whether or not He exists, as long as He remains entirely absent from my perception He cannot be grasped by me, even on the most superficial, erroneous level. What I call God is my own personal image of Him, based on my interpretation of the Bible, of my surroundings, of other's experiences, and a thousand other things that are not Him. My religion or spirituality (take your pick) is not interaction with or even action towards any real God, but only towards the murky, hopelessly flawed image of him created by and entirely contained in my own consciousness. This is the situation, and it cannot be otherwise until such a time as he chooses to override my will, heighten my perceptive abilities, or end my existence.
But I'll stop talking like this, because those of you who aren't philosophically inclined probably don't have a clue what I'm saying, and those you who are already know all this because it's been said before by someone really smart (in much more intellectual lingo, I'm sure), and most of you are probably a little concerned about my self-centeredness. Yes, I could be less self-centered, but only through a conscious choice to care about others or (I hate to say it) at least pretend to. Ultimately, this would be motivated by something self-centered, because I cannot really understand any other person, or even really understand that they are existent in the way I am, so I cannot really understand their significance, and thus their claim on my efforts and attention. (Sorry, I said I'd stop.)
So I'm off to camp tomorrow. How terrifying. I am not qualified to do this. I am not prepared. I am a wretched, self-centered, confused being, twisted and evil in my very essence and self-indulgent and manipulative by nature and by continual choice. I misjudge people and circumstances, I am ruled by my emotions and crippled by my intellect. I have very little hope, essentially no faith, and a dim, inconstant love. Only these three things matter, only they will remain, but I do not possess them.
I'm going to have to cut this terribly short. What a shame, I had other things to say, but I have to pack and sleep.
Bottom line: I want to have faith that God will "use me" at camp this week. I want to believe that I can trust in him, and that I'll open my mouth and his words will flow out. I want to believe that I'll be broken and remade over this next week, that my doubts and my will will be destroyed and I'll be left naked and empty before him, overwhelmed by his power and saturated with his presence. I would give all of my possessions, my hopes and goals, my eyes, ears and limbs, even my very life for that. If I dwell on how much I want that, it will destroy me. I want to believe it will happen, even to the smallest degree or in the most diluted form, but I don't. Forget the why, forget psychology and experience and motives. The bottom line is that I do not believe God will work a miracle this week. I do not believe he will make himself known to me, or assist me in any way I can perceive. It'll just be me, trying to survive, trying by my own wisdom and strength to do the best I can on my own, without Him. My kingdom, my health and strength, for the faith of a child! (One thing - don't touch my mind. I won't part with that. (Now there's an insightful little comment.)) Anyway, I probably make that offer only because I have the utmost confidence it won't be accepted. Lack of faith is a terrible thing. Why am I even alive?
I don't believe in prayer. So pray for me, please.