I've been doing a whole lot of thinking lately. It's kind of the norm for me, but lately it's been even more out of control. I think that self-examination is only natural for someone like me. I'm 21, my best friends are all getting married and starting careers, and I still play in cardboard boxes. I'm not saying I think I'm immature or that I regret my way of life, I just think that it's natural to examine yourself and try to figure out what makes you tick when you're not falling in line with the normal way of doing things.
All this thinking has led me to consider myself and my vision for the future. Most people tend to picture themselves settling down and getting a job in some nice suburb and raising a family. A few people picture themselves doing all of that in a bigger house, but the American Dream rarely changes from person to person. Me? I think I'd rather be eaten by a shark than live the normal life.
I'm not about to suggest that what other people have planned is sinful, is wrong, or is even small plans. It takes a lot of work to raise a family, and I respect that. What I'm saying is that for me, for Jake, the average life just isn't going to cut it. If I were to settle for something like the conventional wisdom then I think I'd be thinking small. I serve a big God with big plans, and to think that human plans can stack up to his is just plain silly. Maybe I belong on the plains of Africa with James taking care of orphans. Maybe I need to go to the ghettos and preach the word. Or maybe I need to get off my butt and finally become a true Christian, not just the American Christian that our culture has created.
One thing that is always scary to do is to share your dreams. So with that in mind, be gentle on me. There is so much I want to do with my life, I want to spend at least a year in another country doing relief work, I want to help kids in the ghettos find some hope, I want to help stop child soldiering in Africa, I want to see China, I want to help start a revival in the church, I want to teach, I want to come back to York, and at some point I'd like to get a masters and a doctorate in something so that I can do my own research on humans.
Big list, I know. There are nights where I literally lose sleep trying to figure out how I'm going to get it all done. The thought that I keep coming back to is that faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains. But what bugs me is that anyone can move a mountain. The real challenge is moving a human heart. It's dang near impossible sometimes to motivate people, especially yourself. I wrestle with this thought, wondering how much faith is it going to take to move myself. I wonder if it should be easy because of the mountain thing, or if Jesus was being ironic and saying humans are tougher to move than mountains.
When it's all said and done, I find peace in this: faith is a self-sustaining thing. If you have just a little bit of it, it will take care of itself and motivate and multiply itself. Maybe the mustard seed itself isn't what moves mountains, maybe it's the big mother plant that grows out of that seed. If you lack faith, pray for more. The fact that you realized you lack faith means you have more faith than you thought in the first place.
(jake)
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Heroes Get Remembered...
Nothing in the world would be more open and honest than to share the one song that has impacted me most. By my personal hero Reese Roper, performed by my favorite band Five Iron Frenzy, got it when i was in 6th grade, listened the crap out of that cd and even now on my ipod. I would love to be able to write like this.
Hope you hate it.
When I was young, the smallest trick of light,
Could catch my eye,
Then life was new and every new day,
I thought that I could fly.
I believed in what I hoped for,
And I hoped for things unseen,
I had wings and dreams could soar,
I just don't feel like flying anymore.
When the stars threw down their spears,
Watered Heaven with their tears,
Before words were spoken,
Before eternity.
Dear Father, I need you,
Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher,
Every new day again.
When I was small, the furthest I could reach,
Was not so high,
Then I thought the world was so much smaller,
Feeling that I could fly.
Through distant deeps and skies,
Behind infinity,
Below the face of Heaven,
He stoops to create me.
Dear Father, I need you,
Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher,
Every new day again.
Man versus himself.
Man versus machine.
Man versus the world.
Mankind versus me.
The struggles go on,
The wisdom I lack,
The burdens keep pilling
Up on my back.
So hard to breathe,
To take the next step.
The mountain is high,
I wait in the depths.
Yearning for grace,
And hoping for peace.
Dear God... Increase.
Healing hands of God have mercy on our unclean souls once again.
Jesus Christ, light of the world burning bright within our hearts forever.
Freedom means love without condition,
without a beginning or an end.
Here's my heart, let it be forever Your's,
Only You can make every new day seem so new.
(jake)
Hope you hate it.
When I was young, the smallest trick of light,
Could catch my eye,
Then life was new and every new day,
I thought that I could fly.
I believed in what I hoped for,
And I hoped for things unseen,
I had wings and dreams could soar,
I just don't feel like flying anymore.
When the stars threw down their spears,
Watered Heaven with their tears,
Before words were spoken,
Before eternity.
Dear Father, I need you,
Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher,
Every new day again.
When I was small, the furthest I could reach,
Was not so high,
Then I thought the world was so much smaller,
Feeling that I could fly.
Through distant deeps and skies,
Behind infinity,
Below the face of Heaven,
He stoops to create me.
Dear Father, I need you,
Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher,
Every new day again.
Man versus himself.
Man versus machine.
Man versus the world.
Mankind versus me.
The struggles go on,
The wisdom I lack,
The burdens keep pilling
Up on my back.
So hard to breathe,
To take the next step.
The mountain is high,
I wait in the depths.
Yearning for grace,
And hoping for peace.
Dear God... Increase.
Healing hands of God have mercy on our unclean souls once again.
Jesus Christ, light of the world burning bright within our hearts forever.
Freedom means love without condition,
without a beginning or an end.
Here's my heart, let it be forever Your's,
Only You can make every new day seem so new.
(jake)
Friday, April 6, 2007
Phalanx
It's 5:30 AM. I've been at work since 11 PM. I get off in an hour and a half.
Brace yourselves.
So I've been reading this book all night about the battle of Thermopylae. You know it better as that one thing they made 300 off of. Spartan culture is very interesting, especially as a history nerd. The thing that I find so fascinating about the Spartans is that they understood what we as Christians try to understand everyday; no fight is won physically. Everything is about the will to succeed.
The thing that I marvel at about the Spartans is not that they figured out the true nature of the fight, but rather that they figured out how to make it happen. They figured out how to develop and maintain the will to succeed, the will to overcome any challenge. It wasn't through rigorous training and insane methods to toughen up, although that all happened. It was through each other.
The key to Spartan battle rested in the shield. A helmet, a breastplate, these things guarded yourself, and they were expendable. But under NO circumstances were you to lose your big round shield, because with that shield you defended your brother. From day one Spartans were trained in one simple fact: Nothing will ever matter as much as the person standing next to you.
I think that one thing I do terribly wrong with my faith is I individualize it. I'm not saying it shouldn't be personal, between you and God. I am saying that it shouldn't be private, just about you getting to heaven. My faith needs to be more of a group effort. When I think back, the times that I've found courage, perserverence, all of the things that I seem to lack in my weaker moments was when I was standing up for someone else, trying to help them.
Jesus understood it, so did the Spartans. You'll never win any fight that you fight alone, you'll never win if you fight for yourself. But if you fight for the man next to you, then there isn't a force that can stop you.
Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival. - C.S. Lewis
(jake)
Brace yourselves.
So I've been reading this book all night about the battle of Thermopylae. You know it better as that one thing they made 300 off of. Spartan culture is very interesting, especially as a history nerd. The thing that I find so fascinating about the Spartans is that they understood what we as Christians try to understand everyday; no fight is won physically. Everything is about the will to succeed.
The thing that I marvel at about the Spartans is not that they figured out the true nature of the fight, but rather that they figured out how to make it happen. They figured out how to develop and maintain the will to succeed, the will to overcome any challenge. It wasn't through rigorous training and insane methods to toughen up, although that all happened. It was through each other.
The key to Spartan battle rested in the shield. A helmet, a breastplate, these things guarded yourself, and they were expendable. But under NO circumstances were you to lose your big round shield, because with that shield you defended your brother. From day one Spartans were trained in one simple fact: Nothing will ever matter as much as the person standing next to you.
I think that one thing I do terribly wrong with my faith is I individualize it. I'm not saying it shouldn't be personal, between you and God. I am saying that it shouldn't be private, just about you getting to heaven. My faith needs to be more of a group effort. When I think back, the times that I've found courage, perserverence, all of the things that I seem to lack in my weaker moments was when I was standing up for someone else, trying to help them.
Jesus understood it, so did the Spartans. You'll never win any fight that you fight alone, you'll never win if you fight for yourself. But if you fight for the man next to you, then there isn't a force that can stop you.
Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival. - C.S. Lewis
(jake)
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Saturday Morning Theology
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)
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)
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)
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Plankeyed
Reality check. Not for you, for me. This blog is just my attempt to keep my spritual journey in the plubic eye so I'll be held accountable. But the reality check, it's time to stop and evaluate that ever important organ, the heart. Specifically, is my heart in the right place?
See, the road to Hell is in fact paved with good intentions, but Hell has a crappy department of transportation, and they only paved it about a third of the way. After that it becomes real choppy and dirty with spoiled motives and lost passions. In fact, when you think about it, the only difference between the road to Heaven and the road to Hell might just be the direction you're travelling. Hm. Another blog perhaps.
Still, the point I'm working towards is this; I have a bad habit of forgetting who the enemy is. As I sit here with my newfound love Flogging Molly, I have to wonder just who I'm fighting. See, I'm very big on rooting out hypocrisy, especially in my own heart, but sometimes I forget that the issue is my heart, and I start focusing on other people's hypocrisy.
First off, I have no idea of knowing if anyone else on Earth is a hypocrit or not. Me? I am. I'm a freaking Pharisee. What happens is I get all fired up to fix my own heart, then I notice something in me, then I realize that maybe the rest of the world has the same problem as me, then I figure they must, then I attack them for the thing that I was trying to get out of myself, completely forgetting to remove the plank in my own eye.
I suppose what I'm trying to get across is that I need to stop attacking my brothers and sisters. I've said before that grace covers hypocrisy, but do I exhibit that same grace? The answer is a resounding no. I do not. I attack the pharisees and forget completely that the whole issue was my own hypocrisy. I have no motive to help, just to hurt. All I want is to destroy what I saw in myself. I think it's called projection.
My prayer for myself is that I can learn to focus on myself. I've got a lot of ground to cover. My prayer for anyone unfortunate enough to read this mess is that you will be blessed with wisdom to see the sin in your own heart, and that we can all just start trying to fix ourselves, and end up helping each other as a result.
(jake)
See, the road to Hell is in fact paved with good intentions, but Hell has a crappy department of transportation, and they only paved it about a third of the way. After that it becomes real choppy and dirty with spoiled motives and lost passions. In fact, when you think about it, the only difference between the road to Heaven and the road to Hell might just be the direction you're travelling. Hm. Another blog perhaps.
Still, the point I'm working towards is this; I have a bad habit of forgetting who the enemy is. As I sit here with my newfound love Flogging Molly, I have to wonder just who I'm fighting. See, I'm very big on rooting out hypocrisy, especially in my own heart, but sometimes I forget that the issue is my heart, and I start focusing on other people's hypocrisy.
First off, I have no idea of knowing if anyone else on Earth is a hypocrit or not. Me? I am. I'm a freaking Pharisee. What happens is I get all fired up to fix my own heart, then I notice something in me, then I realize that maybe the rest of the world has the same problem as me, then I figure they must, then I attack them for the thing that I was trying to get out of myself, completely forgetting to remove the plank in my own eye.
I suppose what I'm trying to get across is that I need to stop attacking my brothers and sisters. I've said before that grace covers hypocrisy, but do I exhibit that same grace? The answer is a resounding no. I do not. I attack the pharisees and forget completely that the whole issue was my own hypocrisy. I have no motive to help, just to hurt. All I want is to destroy what I saw in myself. I think it's called projection.
My prayer for myself is that I can learn to focus on myself. I've got a lot of ground to cover. My prayer for anyone unfortunate enough to read this mess is that you will be blessed with wisdom to see the sin in your own heart, and that we can all just start trying to fix ourselves, and end up helping each other as a result.
(jake)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)