well, you'd think....

Although not surprising, I'm surprised at how difficult it is to choose gifts for people. It's almost Christmas and all I have are ideas. Vague ones. That's not necessarily a bad thing. Just like the germs and bacteria in a microscopic landscape, I'll be able to squiggle and jostle about a crowded store and maybe, with a little Darwinian luck, I'll bump into the perfect items to give on Christmas morn. While the worst case scenario of that scenario would be that I would evolve into an evolutionist, it's unlikely. Basically, with so many trillions of other shoppers out there, I have a slight, if not miniscule, if not nonexistant chance of bumping into the right thing. More likely, there is the likelihood of a small run-in on a piece of trash that I will delicately wrap in expensive gift wrap to make myself believe it is a worthy give to give to someone I love so much that they will not even know what to do with it and will smile and say their thank yous and we will later be on our merry ways and depart henceforth, thankfully in opposite directions, for it would wrench my heart in bitter fashion to see my lovely gift thrown in the nearest rubbish bin. I love Christmas! It brings out the best in everyone. It is a bless-ed reminder to remind everyone to remember to remember the true meaning of Christmas. "Don't forget, children!" we say with tilted head and wide smile, a glint of merry joy in our eyes and a hushed whisper for effect, "it's in the name: Christmas!" With glee the children run around the Christmas tree, hands held high above their heads, which playfully bob side to side with the rhythm of their tireless dance of giving and love, and laugh their way to the floor where they smile contentedly before offering to take everyone their gifts and open their own last. Then they sit on their mommy's and daddy's laps and giggle squirmingly, eager to see the surprised delight in their parents' eyes as they cherish their young ones' gifts, dear to their hearts and forever guarded with the utmost care upon the fireplace mantel. They are small porcelain gifts, painstakingly painted and glazed and fired hot to perfection with little delicate strokes by little delicate fingers, and they look like the gods and godesses of ancient Zarathustra, with the truest of virtues etched exquisitely in the bottom corners in such a way that when the sun beams of an evening sunset caught them in just the right way, they would glint and shine in their parents caring hands. They were obviously simple gifts, nothing that showed any kind of special intelligence or talent for sculpting or artistry, but they were special, for it was almost as if they had been wrought with the very blood of the children. But of course they had not been, that would be foolish.

Well, that's how Christmas goes down in my home. What's your story like? I'm sure it's different, maybe just as good in its own way, but it's probably the only story that your family could ever tell. To whisper a different tale, well, that just wouldn't be right. Remember though, to include a reminder to remember to remember the true meaning of Christmas. Otherwise, all your greedy, grinchy, stressful, loveless, tedious, load-bearing, cold, boring, usual, run-of-the-mill, unwanted gifts might not mean quite so much.

(Note: I just wanted to write something because everyone else seems to have good stuff to say all the time. So I just let my miserly fingers type out what my grinchy mind came up with and if you hate me, fine. If not... I'll try harder next time.)

A life worth loving; a love worth living

I'll be lucky if one day I can breathe love like this: http://www.tudou.com/programs/view/-A43NLPVzFI/

Thanksgiving 2008

Nothing special. Obviously. But it was a fun trip. And we actually had a grand time at the house, which must be why we didn't manage to film any of it...
Happy Thanksgiving.

Give me a call. (just kidding)

The last couple of days have been fun, because I haven't had much to do, but stressful, too. My little car's clutch went very sour and is costin $600 to fix. That's unfortunate. Probably the worst part is all the phone calls and running around I get to do. I love it. Lie.

Hopefully we're safe on the way to Michigan. It's a little snowy up there these days, according to weather.com and I'm not very experienced when it comes to driving in snow. Plus, a couple of my tires are quite worn. Maybe I'll be the one to crash and die this break. That would be tragic because my bro will be with me. What a morbid thought. Sorry.

Happy Thanksgiving.

I read earlier whispers and wonder how my 'tude can change so immediately and frequently. There I was, afraid of my own noise. Then there I was again, afraid of my own silence. For a couple days I was all bubbles and hurrah. I thought maybe it was my dr. thunder. I'm pretty sure now that it wasn't. I drank some tonight and I feel more like my previous self than anything else. Of course, my eyes are heavy with the weight of sleepiness. I think that's one of the causes.

Alyssa and Delyann wrote some good stuff for the accent this week. I enjoy working as the religion editor. It's interesting to be a part of the inner workings, instead of just one of the complaining-and-never-satisfieds on the outside. Sarah did really well with both her articles this week too. Stellar stuff.

I'm looking forward to seeing the family for Thanksgiving. I miss sister. I think I'm going to listen to Aaron Roche and Sigur Ros with her for her birthday. Maybe I should get or make her something special, too. Yeah.

stranger

Sometimes my thoughts elude me. My actions tilt my brows in confused knots. The mystery that is me is darkest on nights like this, with not even a moon sliver of recognition from the emptiness surrounding me. Lost, detached, confused, bewildered, frustrated: synonyms of my weary soul. No one to cry to but the grassblade. And she already has the dew weighing her down. Even my shadow avoids me, finding more comfort in the coming dawn. Thus shall my soul rest; knowing that the dawn cometh.

Last night, after hours of contemplating how we would run the Southern Shuffle, Ben and I took off to just run it. I didn't expect any others to come. Ben was doing it barefoot and we ran there to warm up, so since we weren't registering, we stayed in Brock until we saw everyone heading to the starting line. Lo and behold: Nick, Schnell, Jones, Phil, and Antonio were all there to run it, too!! How cool. No literally, it was cold. Anthony did it without a shirt, Ben without shoes, and I was in my green gear. Schnell actually ran it and the other three took cross country literally and cheated/supported the whole way. It was a lot of fun. Ben got 2nd overall.

I love running. Last night reminded me of that. It also helped me realize that I don't have to be an official racer, with the registration, post-race food, number, and t-shirt to enjoy the event. Just running, racing others, was enough for me to really enjoy it.

It's even better at night. And with cheetahs.

LIVE from Argentina!!

Tonight I got to watch my dad speak LIVE from Argentina!! He is doing the Week of Prayer at La UAP, where I spent a semester studying castellano my freshman year. Stephen and Sarah both were over here and watched some, too!

How cool is it that I can watch my dad speak live, when he is thousands of miles away, in a different time zone, in a different language, in a different country, and we have absolutely different schedules!! Amazing. The coolest thing, I thought, was that a friend of ours down there (Nico), told me about the site to check (uapar.edu) to find the live stream about two days ago. I put that in the back of my head, but didn't write it down. Then today I thought of it earlier when I prayed with Dr. Crumley, because I mentioned Dad's meetings. Then, all of a sudden, tonight while on the internet, the thought rushed back and I was just in time to see most of his sermon! I think God helped me remember. Pretty cool.

Dad talked about someone named Ian Thomas that sounded really cool. I'm going to look him up sometime hopefully.

because i can

Determination differs from person to person, and in my case, from day to day. I've often been determined to log ideal memories for later view at a consistent rate, but as of yet, have never been more consistent than the fact that I still do it randomly since I started that first day a long time ago when our little kitty died.

So, to stay christoffer-consistent, here's a random what's up:

Dad sent us some reports on life in the Raleigh evangelistic fast lane these past few weeks and they brought tears to my eyes that I can't explain. Stories of lives changed by nothing else besides the Holy Spirit working on hearts through the power of the Word of God presented to them is apparently a moving read. It revives at least the smoke of the flicker I once had to take record of and spread those kinds of experiences to others in the family of Christ in order to inspire and encourage the harvesters to continue working. Many of us are quite content to sit and eventually die. Even when the brain is stimulated, somehow comfort of immobility overrules the desire to move and change things. Even when it is convinced that action would bring fulfillment...I guess it's just too much work.

Sabbath I was finally convinced to go summer sledding at The Hill with The Others. I had a good time, as usual. There were some sweet little kids there having a blast going slowly down the hill on their magic cardboards. Push, they would tell me. So I did. Over and over and over. Emily would often remind me that they were fine and would push themselves, in which case I obliged. Her brothers were a different story: never forgetting that I was there to increase their momentum. How delightful.

I am procrastinating something serious on an Islam paper due for World Religions. It's reinforcing my belief (and hope!?) that getting through school for me so far has been all about understanding the numbers and the teachers. If I can figure out what the syllabus says about assignment values and total points, then some assignments are just not necessary to complete. And if I ever figure out how the teacher ticks, then I'm in a much better position for such things as essays and late work, etc. I wouldn't feel slighted, however, if I were to receive a much-less-than-passing grade on this first draft. What am I learning in school right now? That how you approach your studies is key.

Easter Sabbath

After awhile my eyes and ears were tired of the novelty Morse Code offered me for the afternoon. I had woken up at 11:54am. That was six minutes before I had planned on going to watch Beau play Jesus in the Sonrise. Needless to say, I didn't make it. After dressing, I wandered around outside more or less looking for him leading a big group of tourists. I couldn't find him. So I came back inside to my comforting room. Dark and cool, where my computer sits calmly lightint my face, always welcoming me with a new song from pandora. I thought for a moment or two about what to do. Since I figured nothing was going to happen unless I made it happen, I decided to look up Morse Code. I've had this paper that has the code on it for probably at least 10 years, no joke. I recently taped it to my closet wall in the hopes that seeing it every day would make me learn it over time. I have not been successful yet. And yet, it succeeded in reminding me today of my reluctant desire to learn it eventually, at least. So google helped me find a couple good places to start. Wikipedia had some useful information and I read up on the Koch method of learning it and the F-something timing. Finally I stumbled on a site that has a downloadable program that insists it will help you learn how to read Morse Code. So I downloaded it. And tried it out for a couple minutes. It was so cool! Unfortately, by this time an hour or so had passed and I was researched-up. So I closed the program and sat there for a few more minutes trying to think of what to do next. Reading sounded good. And walking on the Biology trail. So I did. Dad sent me an email a few days (weeks?) ago that I had saved onto my computer. Oh, it was over spring break and the wireless at the bookstore sucked, so that's why I had savefd it. I read it for the first time this afternoon. It was really good. Thanks, Dad. He quoted Ministry of Healing in it several times so I dug up the book from it's hiding place and grabbed my waterbottle and headed out. After visiting the mysterious bunkers above the landscape building, I backtracked a while and then headed up to the ridge. After finding a rock that sat me quite comfortably, I read and perused MH for a while. After that, I went right and tried to find the cliffs above the bend where Verizon customers lose their signal. I didn't find it. But I almost stepped on this little black bird that didn't move the entire time I stared at it and tried to take a decent picture of it with my phone (why bother? it never works). Then I walked along the ridge. Jeremiah had called about twenty minutes after I had left my room. Honestly, I was hoping someone would call earlier as I didn't know how to call. That's why I had to go walk. So I didn't answer since I had already set my mind on walking. But I decided to take the ridge over to where I thought his house would be and try to find it on the other side. So I did. But it took forever. And I went to far, then went down, then recognized where I was and had to go back a ways. I finally made it and felt great for having achieved my goal. But the the mafia came and scared me up the hill towards Jeremiah's and his brother's fort where I had to flee up the hill breathing hard for fear of being recognized and laughed at. Big deal. Who would even care? Jeremiah didn't answer when I called him from the top of his road so I walked back to my dorm where I made supper, talked to Adam, then went to Ben's house for a movie. Then check, Jericho, and bloggerizing. Now sleep. What a day.

he rows of hour daze.

This is my brother. With his chick. We've had some good times together, but it seems like the best times are happening right now while we are thousands of miles separated. He has always been an inspiration to me because of his phlegmatic inner strength. He is cool, but passionate. Strong, but soft-hearted. He has a will and stubborness of iron, but will bend and break for something he wants. He can even grow a beard. He runs fast, even when his joints hurt. He swims as fast, or faster, than me without training. He climbs, jumps, scrambles, bikes, runs, sprints, laughs, travels, experiences, tells stories, eats, and certainly drinks, all with a gusto and heartiness and more robustly than I could ever achieve. He is humble enough to smile in my face when he wins in a way that can only leave me smiling and wishing I could be more like him as well. I can read faster than him, though. But unfortunately that doesn't mean I understand faster than him. His hands work wonders with things that he gets them on. Even if they are grandpa's hands, those grubby short little muscular hands that leave little traces of moisture on mine when we grasp hands during prayer or wrestle. His understanding of mechanics and of physics and nature is astounding. His retainment of the seemingly insignificant things proves how significant they can be. He works hard when he wants to and doesn't mind dreaming the day away. I think his dreams are probably more beautiful than words could describe, but they usually stay on his wall next to his pillow. That's my brother and I'm proud of him. I know that he will help me when I need him and that I will be there for him, as well. We are brothers and I'm so glad that it turned out that way. Someday, it will come in more handy than I know, I think.

The Neck Warmer Saved Me

I had a great spring break. It was fun to learn how to snowboard. Frustrating at times, of course, but by the third day actually fun. Hanging out with everyone afterwards was always exciting with thirty+ people in the chalet. We ran out of water a couple times since it was a well and we were thirsty and dirty and hungry. The hot tub smelled like butt after a couple days and we loved it anyway. We watched Travis and Josh skin up their legs in a freezing run of shorts-only through the snow for a little meal. We watched crazy people do crazy stuff on their boards and skis on RSN channel. We watched Lord of the Rings and crazy cop chases. We watched it snow outside and the temperature drop to 2 degrees. We ate together and took days off and cleaned up and made more messes and laughed and told stories and bragged and applauded and slid in the snow and finally were able to take the hard way out. Then, oh then, we had a wonderful 28 hour trip back because of a couple setbacks that I bet you'll hear about. I had a good time. I don't want to come back to school. What else is new?

The Professors

I was often on the snow.

Don't mess with the men.

We had some good times at McDonalds. The car... not so much.

We finally made it home.

saleeeeeeep...

This week has been sick. For me it's been torturous almost. I've not received much blessed repose at night and the tests are disheartening to say the least. Of course, that means it's probably been a week that everyone else is already used to. I'm just getting into the normalcy of life-sucking stress and chaos. I want to move to South America. Ease, slow, calm, chill.

Once every few ticks of the clock there occurs a conversation with another dying human being such as to stimulate one's thoughts beyond the bold territorial borderlines of daily grind. I was the monkey in the middle of just such an event this fine Friday evening. From Escher to bike trips to streaking, topics flew by like the streakers in the stories and we were entranced by it all. Unable to arouse our reluctant prisons out of the sitting position, we talked and dreamed on while the hour hand lapped itself on the clock and the world grew one hour younger.

How is it that the thought of man can run in so sloppy a line and still realize its deficiency, reveling in the wonder if it all the entire while? I know not, but am thankful for such a gift as the mind that came with the added bonus of the body with which to live out the dreams of the chirping wires in all that gray matter. Or whatever.

It's late and I'm tired. A normal consequence of an exhausting, but in the end quite fulfilling day. There is much to think about while so little chance of finishing thoughts, it's no wonder we were created to live forever. I wonder that God can contain it all.

The sun can come back another day (Priscilla Ahn)

I just had a swell run in the rain.

Initially, it was simply a drizzle. I thought to myself: self, this ain't no thang. You can run in a slibble dribble and come out fine. Little did I know that the slibble dribble was deciding to become a flurrycane hurricane in about twenty minutes. Of course, by then I was well on my way to Ringgold and decided to just live with it. After all, I've taken dozens of showers over the course of my life and haven't really regretted any of them, even though I was soaked at the end of every single one.

So I ran.

And it felt great. The lightning made me a little nervous, I'll admit. I prayed every half mile or so, probably, that God would remember to keep an angel next to me to push me over in the event of a stray lightning bolt or automobile. Them suckers were flying today. And splizashing me with their silly tires so that soon enough I was drippidy drip dropping with bountiful rain from above. I was listening to my mp3 player, too. Hoping it wouldn't shock me. Thankfully, once I got back I realized that it could swim, so that was no big deal.

Standifer Gap is a beautiful road to run on. Plenty of curves and little hills that make for variation in soreness. At one point, I thought my hamstrings were going to go buttery stiff on me, but luckily, I just bounded a little boundier and went a touch faster and it was ok. The rain sure can spur one on.

I saw Tim and Josh.

The day wouldn't seem like it could get better. But it did already because I am using a silly bomb-proof laptop from the McKEE LIBRARY (blatant yellow letters, remember?) and sitting with my sitting pals Justin and Tim and listening to my musical hero Aaron Roche. And what do you know: I'm going to play soccer in a couple hours.

Paul said he finished the race. It sounds like it was a fight, this race. And it sounds like the prize is better than any medal or shirt you might get at some marathon or adventure race: the crown of righteousness. Someday, even if it's raining the whole way, I'm going to finish my race, too. And I aim to gain that prize.