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| I feel as though I am torn between two spiritualities. Picked apart and scorned and kissed and welcomed in by both of them.
One is named passion. It is good and worth knowing. It reminds me that my heart and my cravings (the deepest ones) are made by my Father. That my desire to actually actually live and experience my life at its fullest and bravest is my desire to be close to God, the warrior and adventurer. My desire to know trembling intimacy is my desire to be close to God, the shameless lover. My desire to achieve something beautiful in this world is my desire to be close to God, the weaving worker.
Passion is the scary one. It asks me to live by the seat of my pants, take risks, stop asking questions and just get on with it. It asks me to just be. And be fierce. To not sink into social protocol but to embrace honesty as what I feel think and am in that moment, without the fear of that being a mistake. To accept that there are pages of truth written on my bones just because I was intentionally created by the Creator. It makes me feel that I am an actual person and not a made up one.
The problem with passion is that (as mentioned) it hates questions. And sometimes I have questions about the way I feel. Sometimes I know that what feels right is objectively wrong. And I'm not just talking about like sex stuff, but the way i treat people, and how I weigh my life decisions. Passion doesn't really like ethics which seem abstract or based on principle. It wants what is raw and here. It wants me to run so fast that I don't see where I am going. Which can be good, because I actually get places, but can also be bad because those places are sometimes not where I should be.
The second is called process. It is also very good. Process delights in patience and in gentleness. It trusts my brain and my ability to reason what is right and wrong. It reminds me that honesty is more than just what I think and feel, but lining myself up with who God says I am, a beloved child of peace and holiness. That my spirit is not always tangible to my senses and that I must beat my senses into adhering to what is the truth. It realizes that to know God is to look beyond my perspective and myself, connecting to his objective and unchangeable character as a fact.
Process feels stable. No matter what happens or what I feel or am experiencing I can trust that the truth is the truth and it will not waver. And I can believe that my Father honours kindness and purity and commitment and steadfastness regardless of how futile they seem. Because he said he does. Faith is looking at the bigger picture, not interpreting my circumstances to define who God is.
The problem with process is that as it helps me to control my flesh, it can make me feel like I am suppressing my heart. Those holy fires in my belly can be quickly doused by caution and bigger pictures. Sometimes the bigger picture just isn't worth shit. Sometimes I need to cry and feel alone just because I am a person. We would die without letting ourselves live in the moment, wouldn't we? Process is always looking forward, looking ahead at the truth but sometimes I just need to look right here. At where I am. I want to kiss and taste every second of it, to laugh and not because I have reasoned the humorous merit of the situation. Gut laugh. I want to know God as a spirit, a burning bush who beckons me and is present. Not just a guy who I am believing is up there and who I have faith is awesome and loving but whose awesomeness and loving kindness I never experience.
I guess that this is my struggle. My duality. Perhaps I can hope for balance. The ironic thing is that balance in and of itself is partial to one of these fundamental world views. Was Jesus a balanced guy? He was homeless and he made whips and whipped people in the temple and screamed at them. He chose not to do miracles at certain places where people were sick and dying because they didn't believe but made 5,000 portions of bread and fish out of thin air because people were hanging out and hungry. But he was patient too. He didn't even begin his ministry until he was 30. The son of God waited 30 years before he revealed himself. He was here to bear the sins of all of mankind and he didn't just throw himself on a cross and get it over with but waited until the timing was perfect. He trusted in the gentle character of God.
I would like to learn how to wait for and chase the truth at the same time.
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| So being a full blown narcissist, there have been times when I must admit that I have googled my own name. While usually my google screen is filled with sites from gushing and adoring fans, I recently stumbled across something rather disturbing. "Firstly, Great Show! I watch it faithfully. I was wondering if anyone has taken a Subaru WRX STI out for a drive? Even better would be info on the 2006 model. Does anyone think this car is over priced, or is the quality and technology that good? I am looking to buy one, but I am waiting for some real, un-biased views.
-- Jordan Klassen, Calgary Alberta
Producer's Comments: We recently took the 2006 WRX STI out on the track in Mont Tremblant, Quebec. Man can that thing drive! Watch for our impressions in November."
My name has been tarnished forever by Driving.ca, which has used my information to write a false comment!!! I drive an '07 Yaris, and I bought it because it is fuel efficient and it was cheap (plus the saleswoman told me I look so hot when I drive it). Does anyone know how to file a formal lawsuit?
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| “I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet, and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose…as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
-- Sylvia Plath "The Bell Jar"
AAAH!! Biggest fear articulated.
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| I went for coffee with my friend Craig last night. We talked about our onion hearts, our hearts that have layers of bad mindsets and lies believed. They hold down and hold back and convince that there is truth where there is only destruction. Craig is a real man. He believes in honour and sacrifice and obedience, and in the same breath is passionate and adamant about Jesus Christ's relentless pursuit of restoring his children's hearts into the freedom of what is real. He reminded me of this story that I once held very close to myself. It is of Eustace and Aslan by a river, and Eustace is a dragon. He has made big mistakes, and doesn't want to be a dragon any more. He washes himself in the river, but the scales don't fall and where is the hope? Aslan asks his permission to take care of it, to make him a boy again. The lion jumps on him and with the utmost care begins tearing off his dragon's skin. Eustace screams, it hurts so much! But when Aslan has finished Eustace is a boy again, and a changed boy; clean and whole and full of freedom. Craig told me that I am like Eustace, and God is gentle. He will heal if I give him permission. It might take a lot of time, and it will definitely hurt. But is there any other option? I have washed myself in a thousand streams, I have tugged at my scales and bled. I am not a good self-helper. Jesus, lead your children into wholeness. Let not our pride put duty ahead of your perfect fingers that draw lines in dirt and that long to touch and restore our leperous souls. Hope to you. | | |
| I'm thinking about starting a support group. I think I will call it 'Narcissists Anonymous'. I would be the chairman and would start each meeting with 'Hi. My name is Jordan, and I'm a narcissist...'. And then would continue to tell about my day, probably filled with the gloom of self-obsession, about how I spent at least three hours of perfectly good time carefully and desperately examining my own heart and panicking about my future. You know, just so people would feel comfortable sharing their stuff too. But then I would also share about my hope glimmers. Like how I showed up on time for drinks with my friend Adam W, even though I wanted to stay home and watch daxflame videos that I'd already seen. Or about how I legitimately thought about my little brother and prayed for him and wanted to tell him that I love him. Or how I stayed late after teaching a guitar lesson to ask a ten-year-old boy about his halloween costume, and why he isn't going to his school dance (girls are annoying). I think he looks up to me.
Actually, maybe I ought not to start this support group at all. Now that I think of it, I'm pretty darn selfless. Maybe one of the most selfless people I know. Maybe I will spend the evening reflecting on this by writing myself a haiku and spending money at the mall. Yeah, at linens'n'things. I don't really need anything from there, but I deserve it I think. Oh and get a VENTI something latte at starbucks, even though I will only drink as much as a grande holds. I'll throw away the rest. I just really like the way that I feel holding the big cup. Like I'm a CEO, or a pharaoh. And after I'll go to bed late and sleep in for work. My boss will probably be mad at me, but I won't care, because usually I work really hard, and I think I deserve it. Crisis averted! | | |
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