Castles and wastelands

Did You come that we might just survive?

Did You come so we could just get by?

And did You walk among us

so we might merely limp along beside?

I was bound, I have been set free

But I have settled for apathy

And did You come to make me new

and know I'd crawl right back into the skin You found me in?

It's where I am, not where I've been...

I absolutely love trying new things. However, like most people I'm still a creature of habit, and if I'm being honest I'm not that willing to get creative with the things I absolutely love. Which is why whenever I'm in a bookstore, the self-improvement mumbo-jumbo section is unfailingly where I can be found.

That's exactly where I found its intriguing little spine. It was a book with a title something along the lines of "The Stages of Life" (though I don't remember who by). If mumbo-jumbo is nothing else, it's entertaining; so like most titles in that section, it piqued my curiosity, and I found myself quickly pulling it off the shelf with an objective hmm. Flipping over to the back cover, I read as the author chronologically listed the stages to be expected throughout the typical American adult life: College. Marriage. Divorce. Re-marriage. Retirement...

Excuse me, author ma'am, but I think you forgot "File bankruptcy" and "Get cancer". I indignantly shoved the handheld excuse for intelligence back in its designated place and moved on to some other book that likely wasn't any more of a reputable source of whatever it was talking about. 

But even the smallest, most laughable text can leave an indelible impression. If you know me, you won't be surprised when I told you I couldn't help seeing the deeper issue.

I'm afraid that the book's "eh, ish happens" attitude is all to prevalent. What did that say about the attitude of our culture? 

To the majority of the world, there is nothing alarming about the approach of the book I found that day; many would have considered its approach to life's expectations and advice on how to deal with them entirely sound. But as Christians, we're told there is another way. A better way. And yet, from these consequences, we don't always find ourselves excluded.

Christ came so that we could not only have life, but have it more abundantly (John 10:10). Why is it, then, that so many of us are only partially free? Free from pretenses... free from regarding debt as something we'll always have... free from having places in our minds where we don't allow ourselves to go. Some of us have photo albums we leave undusted; cobwebs we shame others into not exposing.

You get along. I mean, you'd get along even better if it weren't for people trying to disturb the caveats of your inner joy with blog posts, but other than that, you're fine. 

There's such a better way.

"Every man dies. Not every man really lives." 

-William Wallace

Open your closet. Choose freedom. Skeleton's don't bite; they're dead.

Why would a young man live in a wasteland

when the castle of his dreams is standing by?

Why would princess put on an old dress

to dance with her beloved, and a chance to catch his eye?

You make me want to LIVE...

Character means everything. Unless you're the President of the United States??

“If you don’t have any fresh ideas, then you use stale tactics to scare the voters. 
If you don’t have a record to run on, then you paint your opponent as someone people should run from. Make an election about the small [insignificant, meaningless, distractful] things.” 

-President Barack Obama

Those who know me well know me to be a pretty good judge of character. Sometimes it's an uncomfortable feeling in my gut. I can't help but cringe at their smile and instinctively distrust everything they say. But for times when it's not so obvious, I defer to the combination of actions and words which make up that priceless thing called character.

"Everyone tries to define this thing called character. It's not hard. Character is doing what's right when nobody's looking." 

- J. C. Watts

Although I'm "technically" a Republican, I don't have it in my head that Democrats are bad people. I know many of my Democratic friends to be smart, objective, analytical people. Most of the closest and dearest friends I've ever had are Democrats. We're not that different. We all want the same things---we just believe in going about them in a very different way.

I implore those friends, and all Americans, to consider this:

The thought process behind someone's ethical beliefs (or lack of) tells you everything, everything, EVERYTHING about whether or not they're someone you should be rooting for. If I paid attention to someone's words alone, I'm likely to build an unrealistic opinion of that person. No presidential candidate has ever been close to perfect; truly, we'd be naive to deny that sometimes the reality of the situation is a matter of choosing the lesser of two evils. But if we're objective---that is, if we're honest with ourselves (admittedly, the most difficult kind of honesty) and truly want what's best for the greater good---we can use our discernment to pick out the traits that comprise someone's character.

A good place to start is looking at someone's actions. Because as the old adage goes, "actions speak louder than words."

"I have always thought the actions of men the best interpreters of their thoughts." -John Locke

Do your own homework about the person you plan to vote for. What's their REAL history---the things the media has decided that you should overlook? What are the things they've said in the past that revealed their character before anyone was really paying attention to it? Do they take good care of their health, or do they allow their stress to manifest in unhealthy ways such as smoking? Do they maintain good relationships with others, or do they have immediate family in Africa who are reaching out to locals to help pay the medical bills for their child because their multi-millionaire brother has disowned them? (Ok, so it's obvious who I'm picking on a little bit! But don't shoot the messenger, do your own research.) Whether you like to admit that these things are indicators of character or not, they are. It doesn't mean they're a bad person, but it DOES mean you don't want them leading our nation.

Watch your thoughts...they become words.

Watch your words...they become actions.

Watch your actions...they become habits.

Watch your habits...they become character.

Watch your character...it controls your destiny. 

(Or, if you happen to be, like, the President of the United States, your character controls the nation's destiny.)

So many people these days say "eww! I don't deal with politics." If that's the case and we're being honest, can you please stop feeling special? An ostrich with its head in the sand is a worthless asset to society, but will be present and held accountable for its decisions nonetheless.

Character is everything. It's who that person really is. And like it or not, it WILL play a role in every decision they make.

Consider that this November.

The road. You know, the one not taken.

Like most Americans, I have a tendency to be an opinionated person. However, the years have taught me two important things...

No one asked, &

it's not my job to change the world.

These sobering realizations have turned many this-is-what-I-have-to-say's into what I call fish-lip motions: the mouth opens wide to speak, only to be followed by the lower lip quickly re-meeting and pulling down on the other, as if all I had intended to do was let out a few bubbles of air. The more I immerse myself into the unforgiving professional world, the more I realize how much these fish-lip motions make my life easier. No colleague, friend, relative, acquaintance, or potential client wants to hear my attempts to, oh say, expose the media's bias agenda. I get that.

Earnest people who care more about things that matter than they do social status lose friends, credibility, and favor. Totally makes sense. Again, get it.

Those who attempt to bring what they believe to be truth to the surface get less blog hits and Facebook likes (#endoftheworld). I get that, too.

But

"Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter." 

- MLK

I see statuses on Facebook receiving tens of likes for taking stances of neutrality. It's what's in. Be cool and instantaneously rewarded with acceptance for not ruffling our feathers. Congratulations, they'll say you were "nice" at your funeral. But I remember a wise person once telling me that popularity is directly correlated with ineffectivity. And honestly, I could not agree more.

I love to hear people smugly boast, "I leave my politics off of Facebook." Politics are the vehicle of which we enact what we believe and enable the average person to help make a difference in the world, and let's face it, Facebook is the biggest audience you'll ever have. But you're right, you're doing far more with your voice and finite time here on earth by telling us you're heading to the food trucks for lunch.

I care SO MUCH MORE about things that matter than I do about whether or not someone's going to defriend me, post a status saying something in rebuttal to mine because they lacked the hootspa to shoot me a message or make a comment on mine, or shake their head. Cause people shaking their head are on the sidelines. Sorry, but in order to respect what you think I have to respect you.

MLK couldn't have hit the nail more on the head. If you stand for nothing, what won't you fall for? If life doesn't have meaning, what are we doing here? If it does, what good are your neutral stances doing for it? 

There's a huge line between "you're a BAD PERSON if you don't think how I do" and "I care enough about the direction of society to use what voice I have to occasionally make them question why they think what they think".
Huge.

It was so inspiring to see the nonstop droves of people pour through the door every hour at Chickfila. For them, it wasn't about being "anti-gay". (Puhlease. I was the one who waited in that line; I'll tell ya what it was about.) Rather, it was about standing up for free-speech. About being an American. About saying enough is enough. Millions of other Americans have laid down their lives in defense of our constitution, I think I can wait twenty minutes for dinner.

It's hard. It's frowned open. In a world where acceptance is our green light, a lack of warm teddy-bear feelings seems like a death sentence. I get that (no. I don't.), I do. Sometimes you'll be wrong; none of us are perfect. But the truth sets us free. 

Life is short. Do you wanna spend it keeping your head down? Cadavers keep their head down. I wanna make a difference. I'd rather set the world free.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,

I took the one less traveled by,

and that has made all the difference.

A better place

He shares a room outside with a dozen other guys

and the only roof he knows

is that sometimes starry sky

A tattered sleeping bag on a concrete slab is his bed

and it's too cold to talk tonight

so I just sit with him instead and think

How did I find myself in a better place?

I can't look down on the frown on the other guy's face

'Cause when I stoop down low, look him square in the eye

I got a funny feeling 

I just might be dealin' 

with the face of Christ

I found her gazing in admiration at the display towards the front of the store, which was no doubt what caused her to wander in through the door in the first place. As with every other customer at the place I worked at the time, I greeted her nonchalantly and watched for my first opportunity to engage from out of the corner of my eye. 

None was necessary. 

She made her way over to me and faced me directly. "I need some pants." She was poorly dressed and reeked of a smell like the upholstery of a smoker's old car.

I rubbed my figurative hands together and began to ramble off her options. Fit? Brand? Wash? Bottom opening? Let's start with size. 

"I'm not sure," she stated. She turned around and peeled back the waist of her pants to reveal deep, lashing stretch marks that covered her body. 

"O-ok.. um, have you seen our capris?"

"I can't wear capris." Her voice lowered. The old car smell got stronger as she leaned in. "I'm a stripper. I have cuts on my legs." She lifted the pant legs of her tattered jeans to reveal fresh cuts and scars that covered as far as my eyes could see. I stared in bewilderment. Nothing come out of my mouth for what seemed like awhile; my mind was too busy wondering how she got her scars and reminding my curiosity I probably didn't want to know. 

I moved my gaze back to her eyes and forced myself not to judge her. 

"I think you'll like these," I said, grabbing a full-length pair of jeans off the wall and snapping back to reality. 

I set her up in a dressing room and treated her like any other customer. At one point I walked past her open door and saw a man (who I like to suppose was with her) smacking her butt as she propped it into the air while holding on to the dressing room's metal railing. The next time I went to look for her, she was gone.  

But not from my mind.

What kind of journey brings a person to such circumstances?

How different would her life be today if someone had sat her down and told her she was worth more? More than her "profession"... more than the scars on her body... more than the degrading person she was with.

How much higher do we hold our standards... when we're told we can meet them?

Our words can leave everlasting imprints.
Keep them uplifting.