Paradigm shift...

of the good sort. I feel new these days.

I realize that this is vague, and that I haven't written in a while.

I'll elaborate later?

Ok seriously...this needs to end.

I have a new pet-peeve:

It's the Christianese phrase "love on." As in, "we're just gonna go love on them...etc." It's usually used when describing short term missions endeavors to people at church.

My problem with it: it sounds wrong, and its users sound slightly crazy when they say it. What even does it mean? What exactly does "loving on" someone involve? Did we ever define it?

I think it's just one of those phrases that everyone picks up because they hear other people saying it. And in that process, it's come to mean something different to each person. This bugs me. I know that all language is subjective, but Christians need to work at defining their words and think about how much jargon is helpful and how much is harmful.

I can't be the only one who's disturbed by "loving on." It's such a weird thing to say...

I am not a fan of Robert Frost.

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

--Robert Frost

I'm not a fan of Robert Frost. I've always thought that his poetry was simple and a little boring. Maybe it's me, but I can't really derive any kind of profound deeper meaning from most of his writing...most of his writing.

But this poem's last stanza has been echoing in my head a lot lately. I have to admit, I like it. I can relate to it:

The woods are lovely and perplexing. I'd like to stop and contemplate them; figure it all out. But I've got miles to go and obligations to fulfill. There is simply no time: No time to contemplate. No time to sleep.

Man, I'm such a freaking English major...

Words, words, words.

When I saw that The Great Gatsby was one of the books we were supposed to read in my Major American Writers class, I was annoyed. I read it in high school, didn't really like it, and dismissed it as "one of those high school books." But now I'm noticing how much depth I missed.

Here's the end of Chapter 6:

"He talked a lot about the past, and I gathered that he wanted to recover something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Daisy. His life had been confused and disordered since then, but if he could once return to a certain starting place and go over it all slowly, he could find out what that thing was...

...One autumn night, five years before, they had been walking down the street when the leaves were falling, and they came to a place where there were no trees and the sidewalk was white with moonlight. They stopped here and turned toward each other. Now it was a cool night with that mysterious excitement in it which comes at the two changes of the year. The quiet lights in the houses were humming out into the darkness and there was a stir and bustle among the stars. Out of the corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalks really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees- he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder.

His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy's white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips' touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.

Through all he said, even through his appalling sentimentality, I was reminded of something- an elusive rhythm, a fragment of lost words, that I had heard somewhere a long time ago. For a moment a phrase tried to take shape in my mouth and my lips parted like a dumb man's, as though there was more struggling upon them than a wisp of startled air. But they made no sound, and what I had almost remembered was uncommunicable forever."

This is brilliant.

In other news, I'm coming home this weekend.

Christian Hedonism?

I'm reading Desiring God by John Piper. So far it's been really interesting. He's arguing Christian Hedonism, which sounds really weird at first. But so far it makes sense. Here's his philosophy:

1. The longing to be happy is a universal human experience, and it is good, not sinful.

2. We should never try to deny or resist our longing to be happy, as though it were a bad impulse. Instead, we should seek to intensify this longing and nourish it with whatever will provide the deepest and most enduring satisfaction.

3. The deepest and most enduring happiness is found only in God. Not from God, but in God.

4. The happiness we find in God reaches its consummation when it is shared with others in the manifold ways of love.

5. To the extent that we try to abandon the pursuit of our own pleasure, we fail to honor God and love people. Or, to put it positively: The pursuit of pleasure is a necessary part of all worship and virtue. That is:

The chief end of man is to glorify God by enjoying Him forever.

Sounds pretty freeing to me. So far, I'm intrigued. Lately I feel like my desires are really complex and convoluted. I don't really know what I want anymore. I had come to the conclusion that it didn't really matter, that ultimately my desires didn't matter. But I'm reconsidering that. Pure and simple desires...I guess that's what I hope I'll develop in the next coming season. New Years resolution, anyone?

Will I become a Christian Hedonist? We'll see...

Also, What Dreams May Come is a really good movie. If you're into visual movies, and metaphysical stuff, I recommend it!

Sea, sand and sky

The sun licks the sea

Its waves orange and black

Laughing,

Their lapping fringe rolling back

Rippling fingers

Probe glistening sand

In sweeping stream

They wander wet land

Sucked under

With current in rhythmic flow

They shimmer and leap

In luminous glow

As if I'd squeezed the sky

Luscious orange in my hands

Sparkling pearls of juice drip,

Land afloat milky gray

If only I could drink the sea

Thick Creamsicle foam,

Loose myself within

Lustrous swells of passion aglow

--Alicia (2008)

(Butterfly Beach, Santa Barbara)