MOCA

Redcoat by Alex Katz

"Study the anatomy of the subway lines flowing under the city's skin" - John Bailley

My sister is dead set on visiting every art museum in Florida by the end of the summer. That goal gives me the motivation to admire all sorts of visual art with her. Today we went to the Museum of Contemporary Art in Jax. Good stuff. I'd add more pieces if pictures were available online. I love the way that art inspires artistic endeavors. We might do a photoshoot at an old Catholic church tomorrow.

Get out there and start exploring.

Book Reviews

Authors and literature that have shaped my understanding and my outlook:

Agatha Christie: Her murder mysteries are entertaining, but her autobiography is honest, amusing, and profound.

I like living. I have sometimes been wildly despairing, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.

C. S. Lewis: A brilliant man. It is evident that every phrase within his books and every word of advice comes from personal struggle and experience. He saw the world: its beauty, its pain, its compromise, and the subtle humor in living.

Paul: He's smart, passionate, and genuinely in love with Jesus Christ. I have a feeling he and C. S. Lewis would have had some interesting discussions were they not hindered by the timeline.

The Book of John: Less narrative, more spiritual. Its metaphors present such a wealth of understanding. God uses them to make profound connections. He teaches me again and again.

And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and will be in you. (14:16-17)

Jane Eyre: contemplating the balance of passion verses reason never grows old. Eyre is an extremely well-developed character and the novel values internal conflict far more than plot development, even though it spans a lifetime.

The Picture of Dorian Gray: presents a moral and ethical discussion in the most subtle, creative of ways. Every time I read it, I am left speechless, deep in thought.

A Tale of Two Cities: The best demonstration of selfless love ever presented in literary format.

It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known.

The Awakening: What is empowerment? When we stand at odds with society, how can we overcome? Is suicide evidence of true enlightenment or of cowardice?

The Poisonwood Bible: I questioned the sincerity of my faith and the motives of my heart. Corruption of the heart is sometimes more pronounced within a facade of Christianity.

Listen. To live is to be marked. To live is to change, to acquire the words of a story, and that is the only celebration we mortals really know. In perfect stillness, frankly, I’ve only found sorrow.

Watership Down: I would have never expected a book about the lives of rabbits to pull at my heart strings or immerse me so completely in the story.

My Sister's Keeper: In an effort to save the life of their ailing child, a family genetically configures their next daughter to provide necessary transfusions. But at what cost? And could they ever truly love their youngest child as much as the one they'd created her to save? Intriguing ethical conundrum.

Atonement: You know what they say about assumptions. Briony's life long battle for relief from the guilt that has consumed her and destroyed others is moving and thought-provoking.

I'm screwed up.

What provides objective value quickly becomes a means to seek acceptance. The fruit of pride is sin, I'm convinced. I want to write, to teach, to reach others. But I've grown so accustomed to hiding behind my supposed verbal eloquence, crafting sentences to portray a watered-down version of my struggles. Making myself strong simply by willing myself to believe that I am. But I'm weak, terribly weak. Flawed, broken, incapable of blunt, raw, honesty with myself or with others. When I feel weak, I lean on superficial talents, creating a diversion that allows me to hastily repair the fortress of distrust I keep around my heart for protection. But at what cost to my quality of life, to my quality of faith in a dependable God? I long to love and be loved: to live selflessly and peacefully. To break is to admit my weakness. But, by persisting in weakness and brokenness, maybe I can find that loving selflessly is the most rewarding experience we undergo as human beings and the means by which God is most glorified.

Get up and Go!

Then an angel of the Lord said to Philip "Get up and go toward the south to the road that leads to Gaza." (This is a wilderness road.) So he got up and went. (Acts 8:26-27)

"Who are you Lord?" The reply came, "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do....Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; so they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. (Acts 9:6-8)

My beloved speaks and says to me "Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away; for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone.

The Lord is speaking. It's time to get up and go. For a month and half at least, I have agonized, mourned, and pitied myself. My relationship with Christ had grown stagnant because I had pushed Him away. But He is calling me to rise up, to take action. He's calling me to the wilderness of an unknown future and I must take initiative. When I falter, I have brothers and sisters who will lead me by the hand. The winter is past. The flowers are blooming. And I am called to move, to get up and go, to follow Him. There's a path through this wilderness. And I have companions to guide me. Now, if I only knew where I'm supposed to go.

Intricacies

Why life is always worth living.

Seeing the full moon peak through residual rain clouds as "The Music of the Night" begins to play on the radio.

Waiting for a rabbit to hop across the street.

Hearing birds sing in the middle of the night.

Sharing a smile with someone, as if you hold a secret between yourselves.

Knowing that the bright, immobile object in the sky isn't just a star, but a planet.

Thinking about aliens and fairies, and letting yourself believe they exist.

Praying outdoors, out loud, afraid of danger, but alive with joy.

The Remnant

Here's to putting what few brain cells we have to better use.

Blame it on the state of education, on pop culture, drugs, technology, rock & roll. Today it seems almost taboo to bring up a topic that challenges the status quo, that forces us to think deeply. I am so frustrated with the mindlessness of modern society and the modern church. Why are we trying so desperately to convince ourselves that mediocrity, timidity, and stoicism are virtues? We avoid our problems by convincing ourselves we don't have them. We settle for conversations about clothes and we gossip about celebrity scandals instead of letting the intricate beauty and pain and desperation of living in its rawest, sincerest state affect us. We're afraid to state our opinions for fear of social scorn. And news travels fast because the key to socialization has evolved to almost universal connectivity. We don't communicate face to face; the acceptance of this social degradation gives us yet another excuse to avoid actually living.

To understand the purpose of humanity, interact with humans. Look at them and you'll see that not far beneath the surface, they long to be set free. We want to live beyond technology addictions and social profiles. Above political correctness. We want to be challenged. We want a chance to respond. We want to rise out of societal confines, take a stand for a belief we've confidently chosen to possess, and feel deeply, emotionally, and publicly, even if it puts our pride on the line.

But we're stuck in sinking sand and too many of us fear persecution if we admit to ourselves that there is a way out. Maybe if we could stop living for ourselves for once, we'd be humbled, able to work as a team, able to rise out of the pit. Maybe we'd start to make a difference.

We've got to think, and think deeply. We have to start thinking for ourselves by thinking in community. We fear opposition. But no one wins a tournament by refusing to participate.

Real life isn't scripted. Sure, it's obvious. But it's a phrase that just strolled through my head as I watched Gilmore Girls, a show I adore for it's wit, quick chatter, and pop culture references. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think I've always wished I could bring even a part of the spunk displayed in Lorelai Gilmore's conversations to my own.

But nothing beats spur-of-the-moment, spontaneous conversation with a willing conversationalist. The situational humor, startling realizations, eye-opening stories. Inside jokes, glances, teasing. Realizing after hours of talking that you adore the person or people you've shared so much of your life experience with.

I value this more than I know. But, out of American dream complex it seems, I've fallen prey to wanting to be more, say more, know more.

Today I want to talk to people, establish dialogue worthy of cherishing. I may not be Lorelai Gilmore, but as a human, I have a gift for communication.

"But what do we mean, what should we mean, by saved? Does it not also include freedom and power here and now, to live a life so transformed that others glimpse in it the possibility of their own transformation? Please, let us always, in the name of the God who saves us, mean this by the gospel as well." (Christianity Today)

There seem to be two schools of thought, two main lessons being emphasized in the modern American church: that of personal advancement and that of peace in the afterlife. The pastor who speaks the former is as dynamic as a traveling inspirational speaker; find God and you will be wealthy, healthy, and wise. Find God and you will be happy on earth. The pastor who emphasizes the latter ignores the present altogether. Instead, his or her focus is on saving as many people as possible from eternal condemnation. Both perspectives leave what should be the healthy body of Christ in a state of mere congregation, perpetually weak and unfulfilled.

Jesus Christ himself emphasizes in John 4 that He is all that satisfies. He is "living water, welling up to eternal life." Notice that there are two points being made in this phrase. His living water absolutely, fully, and consistently fulfills the yearnings of our hearts. And it leads to eternal life. There is no guarantee of material happiness; good deeds and charity don't bring monetary gain. And those who expect it have not grasped the point of following Christ. Likewise, achieving eternal life does not bring an existence anything like living if we've forgotten that eternal life has begun for His disciples already.

The key is in the phrasing: this water that quenches our thirst is overflowing, "welling up." If we have accepted it, our lives are pouring out joy and forgiveness. God's "spirit of truth" is making itself known to all whom this living water touches. One sip and the water overflows into an ocean that reflects Christ, that covers everyone.

C. S. Lewis describes our hearts, purified in Christ, as mirrors that reflect Him outward. But what truly lies within us is more of a spring, completely pure and wholly refreshing. A spring that never runs dry.

How have we gone on in complacency for so long? Christianity, the religion, the mindset, the practice, the relationship, has nothing to do with pursuing selfish dreams either now or in an uncertain future. The writer of Ecclesiastes understood the purpose of life perhaps more than most modern intellectuals. Materialistic living is "utterly meaningless" and even the animals go to their graves. Above all, he exhorts, "Fear God, and keep His commandments; for that is the whole duty of everyone."

We're called to do God's work, to "believe in the One He has sent" (John 6:29). Belief brings water so plentiful that we must share. Doing God's work is no longer an obligation; it is freedom, the ripples resulting from a life devoted to following Christ.