Worship.

Not only do I really enjoy playing music with people, but I absolutely love worshiping with close brothers and sisters.

I think one of the things that most consistently encourages me is seeing other people worship. As creepy as it may sound, every time I hear the song "Love Enough" by Hillsong United, I constantly, constantly go back to the image of a fellow missions-team member (to Japan) worshiping with their arms straight out as if they were flying. For some reason, seeing their joy in worship really, really touched my heart.

Words are often not enough to express ourselves. When we use our bodies, our songs, our entire hearts to worship... that is something special.

I wish I had a picture of that. If I did, I would post it here. Just imagine you're standing by the shore opening your arms to the fresh breeze at it cools you from the sun beating down on your face... overwhelming joy takes over your heart and you just SING to the Lord.

"This love will see me soar..."

Anger. (but not really)

Without going into too many details, for some reason I was upset whilst on my way to the thanksgiving potluck that my small group was having with another group.

There was something very pressing on my mind that I was intending to write about; after sitting here for five minutes and trying to think of what it was, I find myself having completely forgotten what it is.

We all get upset for childish reasons. I'm not sure if my reasoning was a little silly or not (probably was), but in my mind I thought I could get a pretty good topic to write about that often goes passed by or isn't brought up much.

But now, I feel great. Well, not great, but I feel worlds better. Amidst my terrible cold (that I've had for about four days now and has only gotten worse) and buckets of work to do, I feel a lot better.

I think there's just something really special about spending time with people close to your heart that brings such tremendous healing and joy. Beyond words, beyond encouragements, past anything that we can see... something about that time spent together is so priceless.

Thank you, God, for the people in my life.

Perspective.

We all have our own.

But I wonder... how open are we to others'? After going around yesterday and trying to talk to people about Epiphany, I asked myself, "if I don't stop to listen to anyone who stops me on the street, then why would anyone stop for me?"

I guess, even though I don't like to think it, part of me is closed off to different things. Unless I open myself up to them, I'll never really know their view, their perspective, their take on the world (or that part of the world).

Awhile back I was talking to a friend, and he mentioned that reading helps give us a broader perspective on life, because it helps take us out of our own shoes and into other people's.

I don't read very much, and the little that I do read is from a very selective demographic and perspective. Also, there are few people that I really talk to outside a slightly larger demographic. And realistically, there are a lot of people and a lot of views on the world and on life that I will never really encounter person to person.

Though I wouldn't say that my perspective on the world is incomplete or ignorant, as I would like to say that I'm pretty aware of what's going on, the diversity of people that exist and various lifestyles... but what I most certainly do not have, and do not know, is their perspective.

So there seems to be a gap between awareness and... more awareness. Knowing what's out there and hearing it, being in it. There is something uncanny about the human experience that I'm struggling to put words to... and now I have to go to class.

more on bathroom stalls.

For some reason I just can't seem to escape "bathroom humor". I guess I just find it a very simple source of humor that doesn't really get explored enough.

So, I recently realized that I have a pretty regular routine that I do when I go to the bathoom (particularly stalls, not urinals). For those who are curious, here it is: (Warning: Don't read on if you don't want to know about this. Please.)

1. Check the cleanliness of the toilet seat. if there are only a FEW drops of some miscellaneous clear/yellowish liquid, I will go with it. Very few though. Sometimes I check every single stall for the cleanest, but that depends on if I'm in a hurry and if there are other people around.

2. Go into selected stall. I will then hang my backpack up, and then put my jacket over my backpack. If I'm in the H-stall (they often don't have hangers) then they just go on the floor.

3. Clean the toilet seat. With lots of TP.

4. Clean the toilet seat again. You can't be too safe with these things.

5. Business.

6. Because my hands are probably dirty, put on my backpack and jacket with as little contact as possible, in particular with my right hand. I often clench it into a fist just to be safe.

7. Wash hands. Dry hands with paper towels.

8. End.


Do you have a routine?

Obama.

Obama is president.

This seems to have some pretty absurd implications, many of which I'm not really aware of. He seems to represent a lot of ideas and ideals that we would hope to chase after.

Strange to be part of something so historic.

Guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens. And pray.