Tonight I went with Steve to see Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I'm going to get this out of the way: It was amazing. If someone tells you otherwise, someone is being too analytical and ignoring the fact that it is a freaking sweet revival of the single greatest franchise in history. Now, let's get down to business.
I grew up on stuff like this. Seeing it all in action again, well it just reminded me of all the things that I loved growing up and why. Sure, the dialogue is corny, the plots are predictable, but dang it I love it. At the end of the day, no matter how big and nasty Shredder's plans were, no matter what kind of secret weapon Krang had developed, it just didn't matter, I could always count on the Turtles to come through and win. It could sometimes be an intense 30 minutes, but when it was over, I always knew that the good guys would win. The only thing that I ever really worried about was finishing my cereal before it got soggy.
To be honest, I wish they still had those cartoons on. No matter how rough got for me as a kid, I always had Saturday morning to cling to, that wonderful 3 hours when the good guys were at their best. Working where I do, seeing just how terrible humans can be to each other, it'd be nice to have 3 hours a week where the good guys always win.
Today on the hour long drive back from church, I sat and went through the gospel story in my head. I know that sounds a little strange, but I just started to wonder, how often to we just listen to the story? Sure, we know how to break down individual pieces of scripture and make them say what we want, but how often do we just listen to the story and let it speak for itself? So I did just that, I considered the life of a seemingly ordinary human, and how he performed miracles, how he cared for everyone, loved the unlovable, and did everything possible to change the world, how he was murdered, how he came back from the dead. It's straight out of the cartoons man.
I'm serious about that; the gospel, it's a story that contains the same basic message as the stories that I clung to as a kid. It's full of hope, and of a very simple message: The good guys win. No matter how bad it gets, it pays to be someone who cares. No matter how bad the bad guys are, the good guys are better.
It's a message I needed to hear, maybe one you need to hear too. Cowabunga dudes.
(jake)
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Thursday, March 15, 2007
500
So I have car trouble. It's funny, for about ten years now, it seems like whenever anyone in my family gets at least a hundred dollars more than we need to survive, something goes wrong with a car, and everybody gets cleaned out.
Now I'm hardly a car expert, but the nice man at the repair place said something to the effect of, "Your timing belt grumble grumble zig zag, *unintelligable sounds*, durka 500 dollars."
500 dollars. Count 'em. It's a lot. I'm a college student/youth minister who aspires to be a teacher. So your 500 dollars and my 500 dollars are extremely different. My 500 dollars is acheived by being bit, kicked, scratched, spit on, and then gets squandered on rubber belts. Seriously. Every word of it is true.
So where am I going with this? Why right into my own flaws, as usual. I have this terrible "Why Me?" attitude whenever I have money troubles. Seriously, it's a stupid way to live, especially for someone who should basically be accustomed to money problems by now. I always react the same way; run right home, sit down and whine to God about how nothing works out for me.
James makes it clear though. "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds." That's pretty cut and dry. He doesn't say to consider it joy when I get an easy fix to a big problem. He doesn't say to consider it joy when everything's going my way. He simply says it. Even when nothing is working out, even when things suck, even when I'm being drug right back down into debt yet again, there's no excuse for behaving anyway other than with joy.
So the point? I'm going to try to be more joyful this week. 500 bucks worth of suffering; that's a lot of joy.
(jake)
-If you'd like to make a donation to the Jake Owens Car Relief Fund, send all donations to:
Ghetto Ride
1125 E 8th Box 651
York, NE 68467
Now I'm hardly a car expert, but the nice man at the repair place said something to the effect of, "Your timing belt grumble grumble zig zag, *unintelligable sounds*, durka 500 dollars."
500 dollars. Count 'em. It's a lot. I'm a college student/youth minister who aspires to be a teacher. So your 500 dollars and my 500 dollars are extremely different. My 500 dollars is acheived by being bit, kicked, scratched, spit on, and then gets squandered on rubber belts. Seriously. Every word of it is true.
So where am I going with this? Why right into my own flaws, as usual. I have this terrible "Why Me?" attitude whenever I have money troubles. Seriously, it's a stupid way to live, especially for someone who should basically be accustomed to money problems by now. I always react the same way; run right home, sit down and whine to God about how nothing works out for me.
James makes it clear though. "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds." That's pretty cut and dry. He doesn't say to consider it joy when I get an easy fix to a big problem. He doesn't say to consider it joy when everything's going my way. He simply says it. Even when nothing is working out, even when things suck, even when I'm being drug right back down into debt yet again, there's no excuse for behaving anyway other than with joy.
So the point? I'm going to try to be more joyful this week. 500 bucks worth of suffering; that's a lot of joy.
(jake)
-If you'd like to make a donation to the Jake Owens Car Relief Fund, send all donations to:
Ghetto Ride
1125 E 8th Box 651
York, NE 68467
Saturday, March 3, 2007
Blood Stained Tounges
I bought a new movie. It's called, "Stranger Than Fiction," and it's by far Will Ferrel's best movie. Not his funniest, but his best. Without ruining the ending, because I hate that so much, I want to share some thoughts it put in my head.
There are two lines that I want to delve into, the first one being, "I'm supposed to knowingly face my own death?" Consider this; Jesus Christ had to face his own death. That's incredible. All I could think about throughout this entire movie was what it would be like to face my own death. How would I handle it? If I knew exactly how long I had left, if I knew that the end were approaching, how would I do it? Would I try to stop it? Would I try to live the most I could in a few short weeks? What on Earth would I do?
But this question is nothing compared to the second line. "I've Killed." It's so simple, it's so blunt, and it's so powerful. I don't know if you could say those two words without any finality; they close the book on so many things. To admit not to another, but to yourself that you are a murderer would have to be a very hard process.
So I tell you these two thoughts to help you understand the admission that I'm making right now. Ready?
I've Killed. And because I've Killed, Jesus Christ had to knowingly face his own death.
Because of my sin Jesus died. I'm no better than Charles Manson, or that guy that killed hookers. I'm just another murderer, just one more guilty conscience trying to escape justice. My own weapon wasn't a gun or a cross, but a tounge. With my mouth, with my complete lack of concern for others or their feelings, I Killed.
Jesus Christ, knowing that I Killed, knowing that my tounge was going to put him on a cross, STILL knowingly and willingly faced this fate. Understanding that I was judge, jury, executioner and perpetrator, he still walked right into death, and he did it for me. He did it to save me.
I try to keep my posts relevant to my life, which means keeping it relevant to the world around me. Life is rough right now where I live, up at Yorkland where there's trouble in paradise. It's easy to point fingers and get mad, and even when that's done you still have to admit that there's no easy way to fix things.
I write this when I do for a reason. I write it to remind myself, to remind my friends, to remind the world of the thing that is of first importance. Jesus Christ willingly died for his own murderers. Don't lose sight of that.
(jake)
There are two lines that I want to delve into, the first one being, "I'm supposed to knowingly face my own death?" Consider this; Jesus Christ had to face his own death. That's incredible. All I could think about throughout this entire movie was what it would be like to face my own death. How would I handle it? If I knew exactly how long I had left, if I knew that the end were approaching, how would I do it? Would I try to stop it? Would I try to live the most I could in a few short weeks? What on Earth would I do?
But this question is nothing compared to the second line. "I've Killed." It's so simple, it's so blunt, and it's so powerful. I don't know if you could say those two words without any finality; they close the book on so many things. To admit not to another, but to yourself that you are a murderer would have to be a very hard process.
So I tell you these two thoughts to help you understand the admission that I'm making right now. Ready?
I've Killed. And because I've Killed, Jesus Christ had to knowingly face his own death.
Because of my sin Jesus died. I'm no better than Charles Manson, or that guy that killed hookers. I'm just another murderer, just one more guilty conscience trying to escape justice. My own weapon wasn't a gun or a cross, but a tounge. With my mouth, with my complete lack of concern for others or their feelings, I Killed.
Jesus Christ, knowing that I Killed, knowing that my tounge was going to put him on a cross, STILL knowingly and willingly faced this fate. Understanding that I was judge, jury, executioner and perpetrator, he still walked right into death, and he did it for me. He did it to save me.
I try to keep my posts relevant to my life, which means keeping it relevant to the world around me. Life is rough right now where I live, up at Yorkland where there's trouble in paradise. It's easy to point fingers and get mad, and even when that's done you still have to admit that there's no easy way to fix things.
I write this when I do for a reason. I write it to remind myself, to remind my friends, to remind the world of the thing that is of first importance. Jesus Christ willingly died for his own murderers. Don't lose sight of that.
(jake)
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