Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Fare-thee well United States

So, here it is, my last blog for quite a while. I probably won't be using this website to blog while away. Right now I am in the Sac airport. Steve and I are awaiting to board a flight to Atlanta, followed by a flight to London!!! There we will take a train to Leeds for a few days, and then back in the city for a few days. Then *insert drum roll* TANZANIA! At which point, I shall explore my communication options, and decide how often to keep a blog. I might be featured on www.worldwideopen.org which is pretty cool. *(insert plug)-They are an incredible organization that dreams to unite the global church. I see this being an incredible ecumenical tool, both in America, and internationally. Go on there and create a profile, you will be surprised where this website goes, and how useful be in the Kingdom of God.* However, I will hopefully be keeping email updates frequently, whether or not I am on the site. But similar scattered stories, thoughts, and poetry that I have tried to share on this blog, will probably be left unsaid, except in my journal.
So here is to an era, a season, a blog that has meant a lot to me. I will however be trying to read others as much as possible. And actually, who knows, you may get a surprise post every now and then. It all depends on the great paradigm shift of life that I am about to undergo.
My thoughts of late have been an internal conversation of these sorts:

"What am I doing? Do I even realize how long 9 months is? Ya, I do. Wow! Why do I realize how much I am going to miss people, and everything when I am alone?
I am not sure whether I want to try to not think about these things, or not? Actually, I think I should, it will make the impact of this journey greater, and I think it is big piece of reality. I have to understand where I have been to understand where I am, and where I am going.
Whoa, I am actually a little scared, and a little anxious. These are both new feelings to me. What is also new to me is the honesty to realize, admit, and accept these feelings, and allow them to guide me. God has taken me a long way. Thanks RA staff. Okay Thomas, accept them, and pray through them. Okay go, pray. And, don't think you are feeling this way because of obligation, trust your feelings, and pray with honesty.
Dang, this is going to be so AWESOME. I need some sleep. I wonder what that old guy across from me is thinking about. Probably wondering where the nearest bathroom is, old people are always worried about their bladder."

Okey dokey, the plane just docked. I guess I'll be boarding in about 15 minutes. Steve is next to me, to have a fellow journeyman and friend that knows me well is comfort. The one thing I have as a goal, is to meet as many people as possible, and share with them the love of Christ, whether we meet on plain, train, town, pub, city, village, or hut. I wish to be self confident enough to smile at others, meet them, look them in eye, and try to bless their life, and make a friend. If you would care to, I request that you ask me when you write a letter or email whether I am constantly doing this throughout my time. Constantly loving all, smiling, befriending, looking people in the eye, and blessing them. Thank you very much my friends, thank you very much indeed.

Today Sacramento,
tomorrow London.
In this journey to grow,
the name of the Son.
Amen.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Doctor Coffee Bean

Lately my life has consisted of a few things. I'll give the run down so i can quickly get to a few of the more mentionable items.

I wake up with an average of 8 hours of sleep in me, this is the first time this has happened in the past 4 years. I call it bag-reduction. I might promote it, open a business, and live the American dream if it actually worked... and i actually had an American dream.

I usually do one of the three these things soon after awaking. Surf, read/pray, or eat. The latter two usually fall into concurrence with each other.

The rest of my daylight is usually spent in the square mile that makes up Coast Village Rd. to Butterfly beach. My main hub of activity resides between Coffee Bean and Butterfly beach, consisting of seeing old friends, studying swahili, emailing, talking and praying with friends, multiple goodbyes, and obviously blogging.

I often see people who I have said my nine-months-goodbye, and so we proceed to repeat the matter. Right now Korinne Kane is in the lead with a total of four goodbyes. A few are in a close second with three, and many are in third place with double goodbyes. This is not some sort of self-conceited game in which you all must play to win. Its just my fun, creative way to convey to you odd humor that life often has. But if want to play, you now know my schedule so feel free to compete on "Tom's Big Goodbye Give Away!" (Complete with an unlimited amount of hugs, and no commercial breaks for you viewers).

At night if I get hungry enough to catch dinner, I'll enjoy it with a friend.

The nights activities vary from reading to partying.

Now to move onto the two motivators of this blog.
First: HAPPY BIRTHDAY KORINNE KANE!!! She is a wonderful woman whom i have had the pleasure of knowing, and in case you forgot, she is in the lead with four goodbyes!

Second: Yesterday, i was given a pleasant interruption to my schedule. As I sat in Coffee Bean grinding over vocabulary words, I heard a string of familiar baritone rumbles from the seat 4 feet from me. I few bells rung, and I quickly recognized this voice as "Doc" from the great "Back to the Future" trilogy. I raised an eyebrow, tilted my head, and snuck a glance. A great smirk flew on the scene, and I looked back down to hide my recognition and excitement. Yes, Christopher 'Freeking' Lloyd was in within slapping distance from me, and I resisted the temptation to do so, or some other embarrassing gesture. You might be expecting some epiphany or reflection on how celebrities are just normal people and should be treated as such. Well, sorry, that is pretty self explanatory, seeing as i just did. It was an exciting event, and a fun conversational piece which I have been divulging the last 24 hours.
The epiphany I now hold is self interrogative: why do I not talk about the things God does in the same way and in the same manner and tone as I do a celebrity citing? Are they not just as or more exciting than the cite of a science fiction actor?
Let's think about this, say God is a fictional character in the same way the Doc is. Is God not a more captivating and exciting character than a quirky scientist who builds really fast DeLorean? Good thing the Doc is a real character that i can reach out and slap at a coffee shop, right?

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

A poet is found in the end

Today as I slowed to a halt at an intersection, a dream drove across in front of me. It was a sky blue, restored convertible car from the fifties. I apologize that my lack of car knowledge inhibits the vision, but imagine a long, smooth hood that rounds down to white rubber wheels and classic, shined hubcaps. The windshield wraps the front of the car, and protected the precious cargo from losing their assorted hats and scarfs. Seated in the front were two old men who seemed finely aged into their seventies. Seated behind them were two matching women, all dressed in clothes that you only buy when you retire.

I dreamed a dream of reunion. I dreamed these two old men having been best friends since five, and maybe after some distance through college at separate schools, were reunited. Soon after they were best men in each others weddings. Of course, the bride in each case was a women they had counseled each other about through many midnights during the long months of courting and engagement. Their wives naturally hit it off, and soon started planning double dates, in which there were never objections from the men, except the request to go to the batting cages instead of the flower garden. During their younger days the women, soft and beautiful, would chatter away in the back seat with matching smiles. The sun was their friend and was glad to soak into their skin, allowing their bodies to turn a radiant gold, the only color that replicated their love for the man seated forefront. As the world smiled at its sky colored ant rolling through dirt roads and hillside, eternal moments of bliss were made.
Over the years children came out crying, and soon it was a month before the couples had seen each other. A month turned into a year, a year turned into a decade, and it became nearly impossible to travel a family of five. Time slowly did its part on the heart, but never on the memory. As grandchildren came the chapters of written careers begin to end, and a conclusions to their life's book began to draw near. The vision of their kin's kin, inspired reminiscence, and a longing grew bubbles large enough to touch across the mileage that separated them. So they met in Montecito, and the old convertible, looking warm as ever, was filled with familiar laughs and love.
I was blessed enough to survey the latter part, and create the former.

However, what if this dream had no resemblance to reality. Sure there is pain and hurt after living seventy years, but doesn't the charity of a poetic dream like that outweigh the gross, reality of life? Maybe this is where my poetic skew that loves happy endings and full circles ends.
I fell into a possible contradiction. The contradiction that keeps me from flying into optimism. Maybe these two couples have absolutely nothing in common, and all four have Alzheimer's, just happen to be at the same retirement community, and felt like a ride. What if the back ladies sit in awkward silence, while the men talk about all the women they got to "know" in the past fifty years. How the drivers feels lucky for not going through the three divorces his companion had, but knows he wished he would have abandoned his wife half way through the marriage to travel the globe with his secret love. What if the women are upset for the convertible, because each are so paranoid about the sun's power over their skin cells.
Neither world is more probable than the other, which do I live in? I am dual minded in nearly everything. I end to be the true poet stuck somewhere in the middle, and praying for the former. Praying for a day when it is all in the former.
I still believe, Maranatha!

Monday, September 14, 2009

metaphor(shore) break

Today feels like the end of an era. I will forever remember this summer as a gift, as an answer to prayer. I received the blessing of a living space filled with five young men. Evan Engle, Drew Tillman, Ryan Reiner, Craig Sewall, and John Carsenson. This is not a shout out, this is a memo to the world. World, if you ever get to meet these five men, give them a hug for me, look into their eyes and know there is depth behind the shades. There is faith, there is sensitivity, there is care, there is confidence, there is a Lordship alongside them.
I missed our fellow traveler, and when he left, the summer's current and relational chemistry that i began to know as home was washed away. But the surf of the five of us remained. As another departs tomorrow, I feel the surf slowly being swallowed by the sand. Each wave is made up of individuals, and I am grateful and touched to be mixed and welcomed into each wave. I am thankful for each particle of person, especially those five.
On Friday I move out, and on that day it will dry completely. The dryness is near. It does not frighten me, but the heat will come, and it will remind me that I won't last long without another wash of homeliness.
After I dry in the sand, after a time couch surfing and itineration through out California, I will throw myself to the sea. Wherein I will toss and toil, travel, rise in swell, and crash on a new continent. There I will mix with a brand new water, and be apart of a new wave.
This is community.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Clouded Chests

Almost every other day this summer, 11am has meant, "almost lunch time." This morning it means, "post-breakfast-cereal-blog time." This past weekend I house sat at Dr. Tremper Longman's again. I paralleled it to my last visitation, what a difference eh? Last time i was praying about how Africa plans would pan out, and the rest of the summer, and was soaking up the solitude with joy. This time i was making phone calls about fund raising, ending my summer job, and wondering why despair had decided to join my shirt as its hanging from my neck. That's what kind of a weekend it was, and i have utterly no explanation for it. All i know is that I tried to remedy it, i went through a check list of possible solutions that often bend my physical, mental and spiritual equilibrium. I was eating fine (mostly), exercising, praying, and sleeping fine. There were a few other theories, some of which still remain in deliberation with the jury, but i know the basics were stable. However, for some reason this monkey clung to my back and began picking my nose and trying to make its way through my ears, clogging them, and the world felt deaf to me.
This feeling swelled, until I came back to my apartment. In the initial hours of my homecoming i thought this spell was over. Nope, it came back as soon as i realized it might be over. It swelled, until it crashed on the shores of my pride. I knew i needed to ask someone to pray with me, not just for me, but with me.
I then realized i was staging an inner battle. As if behind your rib cage there are two clouds colliding, a stormy one that wishes to weigh you down with its soaking drops, and a bright, pure, and white cloud that wishes to brighten the day from the inside. But the trick is all along, the rain cloud only has so much water before it dissipates, and the white cloud of righteousness is fueled and ignited by the warmth of the sun. I have not a strong idea of what the sun is, whether it is my own ability to keep searching, or the Holy Spirit, or Christ "in me," but i do know that whatever it was, it blazed in a time of prayer, and burned away the gray. I went to Ryan and Craig, and asked them to pray for me, and failed to express my feelings (big surprise there right... well maybe sometimes i guess). As they both prayed for me, somewhere amongst there sentiments and pleads to our Lord, i felt something swell against the wave of despair, and "it" was over.
Thank you Ryan, thank you Craig, thank you God.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Two Face

I had promised myself to continue writing blogs. That seems to be the only prompting for this blog, a promise. I sit here, again, with no compelling thoughts that i must share before they split my thorax, screaming like the infamous little friend in the blockbuster hit, Alien (and Alien 2, and 3). We'll shouldn't promises be something worth writing about? Yes... the answer you were looking for is Yes.

I think promises are metaphors of faith. Sometimes being faithful is simply sticking to your commitments and promises. Even though they make no sense, even though there is no reason or inner compulsion, you should stick to your promises. Just like faith, faith is not faith if it is only convenient, and sensible. Both faith and promise require follow through no matter what, and for no reason. Half of life is presence, showing up, continuing in your commitments.

Now let me express to you my dualistic mind by turning the coin. If half of life is just showing up, and all you do is show up, you have only living half a life. The other half i think comes with expressing the seven virtues of presence. Recently i have been reading Foster and Beebe's book, "Longing For God," and it continues to blow my mind. I am constantly realizing that much of what i have thought, believed, experienced is congruent to those of the expressions of our Church Fathers. Thank you Evagrius of Ponticus for outlaying the Seven Virtues. I would also like to call them the Seven Practices of Presence. The other half of life comes when you are present and expressing temperance, justice, courage (fortitude), and prudence (wisdom), faith, hope, and love. A practical expression of these is possible in every single moment and every interaction of our day.

I'm not sure which is harder. What i do know, is that i am about to be late for a dinner with my beloved family if i don't stop this blog in five seconds so maybe right now promises are harder, but i doubt it because

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Bold as Love

It has been over a month since my last blog. I don't know why, I've played all kinds of positions on the baseball diamond of life over the past month. Surely there has been some worth while thoughts worth recording, i don't know why they never got their blogging recognition. But i finally figured that i needed to get back into the habit, especially if i am planning to keep a steady, organized, and thorough blog while i am in Africa; i should get some practice now, at least habitually. So here goes the beginning of a habit (they say that psychologically it takes 30 days to create a habit... i always thought it was seven repetitions... oh well, either way, raise your glass with me as i begin and toast to habitual blogging!)

The last few days I have been pondering a question we must all ponder if we are to call ourselves Christians. Where is Jesus? How do I love Him now, today?
I walked along the beach yesterday pondering this question while waves crashed and proved a distraction for my senses, allowing my mind to run freely. "If only Jesus was still visible!" I said. If He had a physical body, if i could talk to him, if i could feed him, it would be so easy! I can serve my apartments by cleaning the house or kitchen, but i can't even do that for my King and Savior? Do we as a culture even know the fullness of Kingship if we live in a culture that is anti-serfdom. That's a tangent for another day, maybe tomorrow's blog? Anyway, why is it that i readily move grease from the stove-top to the paper towel, and then the trash out of love of cleanliness and my friends well-beings, but can't i can't figure out how to love Jesus?

Then, alike the arrival of golden toast, the epiphany flies and settles on the springs of my cortex. Didn't Jesus break the bread, and call it his body? Whoa... that takes toast to a whole new level... No stop it Thomas, get back on topic. Okay wait, His body is the Church right? Well shoot, what are his eyes? His eye's are all those who believe? But what about God sending rain on the righteous and unrighteous? Uh, is God's body everyone? Or the Church? The Church is his body, but God loves all, being apart of a body is a choice... maybe...

An angler throws his lure, preferably fly, into a pool of water. He places it in that spot because he can sense, or see the shadow of a fish just below the shimmering surface. He longs for the fish to follow curiosity and hook its snout, he longs to get a glimpse and experience the being he has sought and hunted with skill, he longs for his own curiosity to be satisfied. It is with that same longing that i have longed to see the eyes of Jesus. But i am beginning to believe that when i gaze into eyes of another person, i see the eyes of God, I see Jesus' eyes, the body of Christ. The metaphor is less metaphysical than i assumed. I hope to make this a reality.

When i was younger (ha) I believed a line to be true. To butcher it politely, it went something like this, "The confident, the strong look people in the eyes when you talk to them. It shows respect." Somehow over the years i lost the ability to hold a gaze. When I look someone straight in the eyes i feel something, I'm almost scared. It's almost sacred. I can't explain it. But I think it shows love. Its hard for me to look someone in the eyes continuously, while simultaneously speaking. But i will try. Pecos does this well, he always has, and when he does not, i know there is something wrong. To me, love is bold, Jesus is bold. To look someone in the eyes and understand that those are Christ's eyes peering back at you, is bold. Lets see how this goes.

Monday, July 13, 2009

A taste of Maui

Amidst many adventures that vary from:
cliff, house and rock jumping,
beach-slip and sliding,
island camping,
bbq and bon-firing,
midnight cave diving,
vivid snorkeling,
illegal turtle hugging,
being molested by a turtle (that is a story for another time),
spear fishing,
paddle boarding,
outrigger canoeing,
hiking, and
golfing,
there had been one remaining experience i craved.
That experience, was to be in a serene moment on a beach, engulfed in sunshine while watching the engulfer set upon the endless ocean, resting topless on a lawn chair, sand between the toes, and margarita resting in hand. Today that happened, and the smoke from my ash-ended cigar held in opposite hand of the margarita, exceeded the moment, and solidified the momery. There I sat with with the bearings of my creation on each side of me, mother on the left and father on the right. We sat nestled in under a tin roof that was pinnacle of the cove, and directly across from us the sun sat behind an island, igniting the sky. Competition with the conversation was provided by each clear blue wave as it softly crashed on the shore. This is moment, the idealistic moment, was made a reality, and all at once, i knew i was on and at the end of my vacation.
So now i lay less than 30 yards from that same beach, nestled on a friends couch, watching geckos discover the ceiling amongst the cover of a dark night. The stars are bright, and i will watch them until the hourly shower of rain comes, then go back inside and sleep until another day of tropical amusement is brought to life by the sun. That is, if the children that also live in this house don't wake earlier and decide they want another early morning wrestling match.
I still have one more day, then as the locals say, "Back to the mainland ya? Shoots."

Thank you God. Thank you God.

Oh and did i forget to mention that i just realized yesterday after being here for 6 days that i am three hours behind California, not ahead... wow...

Sunday, June 28, 2009

A moment of humor.

Work is changing. This week there was a lot more chitchat in the trailer between my boss, a subcontractor, and myself this week. There was one moment that stands out above the others.

Inside our dusty trailer my boss and i were reclined and talking about something or other. I'm not really sure what; it could have been anything under the sun including current events, previous crazy experiences, funny stories, a joke, or something legitimately concerning our job site. Basically, we were "BS-ing" as usual (which is actually more educational than you would think).
My boss BS-es a lot, and with just about everybody. But that is one of his very effective tricks in supervising. You see, when a story is shared between two people, particularly people on different levels of business hierarchy (i.e. a boss and employee), there is an interesting connection that forms. BS-ing usually results in the listener of the story liking and feeling more comfortable with the teller. But the teller (usually the boss) still feels no pity to lessen any business or load of duty, simply because a story has been told, this still leaves him ultimately in control (or he has "Hand" as they would say in Seinfeld). Neither feel particularly close to one another after the story, nor do they even like each other more. Its a way of creating a business relationship. Nothing personal is shared and your remain fairly invulnerable to the other party. Your guts aren't spilled and nor is there often a lesson taught or a point disputed. A simple eccentric story is told, and usually the characters might as well have aliases. The story simply creates ground to interact with each other on, without necessitating a liking, nor negating or confusing possible roles. This is very key, for once the line of friendship is possibly breached, things become complicated. One party feels more comfortable to antagonize, argue, or simply deny a request. A party also can feel like more compelled to comply with a request, but this is rare. But when enough BS-ing does go on between one party or another, a friendship can be formed. My boss is included in enough of the stories he tells me that i have actually gotten to know him quite well. This is probably because i would because i have already shown my faithful obedience to the job and there is no fear in crossing the "danger friend zone" in the relationship. Otherwise i would probably lose my job, if ever chose to refuse orders.

So during one of these moments after lunch, Steve the framer stepped into the trailer with his toothless grin and looked at us both. Steve often comes in stealing food or just looking for a joke or a light of a smoke. He is a comical fellow, and always welcome. My boss said smirkingly, "What do you want?"

Steve replied, "I want some of your peanuts."

I responded, "You're always after someone's peanuts." At first they both grinned and were a bit shocked, for this was one of the first times i and divulged my humour to them. Then they both went into a large belly laugh, the kind that warms the heart and reminds children of Santa Clause. Steve, even amongst being the butt of the joke, turned and reached his hand out to be clasped in a manly, congratulatory way. I accepted it.

Monday, June 15, 2009

bracelet

Today is that day. The day when a fresh cycle of style begins. The day when a part of me feels cold and naked. A day when I long simultaneously for the newness and aged relationship between me and a friend. Today is that day when I cut the bracelet, revealing a full four season's worth of solid tan-line. Alike the lazy circular form that hung from my wrist, change is a continuous and never ending cycle. After a certain distance we are accustom to the change, and then it only becomes a pattern, and is again repeated. Today is the day when i cut my actual bracelet. Memories are still present, but the reminder is not. The compliments will still come, just not from that old attention grabber. I hope to reconstruct a replica soon, so the cycle can begin again.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Home to house to house to Home

Well world, I am back, burned red, and set for action. The past week has been a bit hypocritical. The places that I was expecting to find relaxing only provided and fulfilled opportunity to be busy, and relaxation too the back seat. First, i was home for the sister's high school graduation. If you have been back to your old high school, you probably know the awkward, nostalgic feeling that it is. But it was a little hectic with her party and everything. So i drove home with my brother and arrived about 10pm, spent twenty minutes at my apartment to collect my things, and then went over to begin my house sit at Tremper Longman's house. I dubbed their enormous and well fu(e)rnished garden (its a pun, get it...) "The Garden of Eden" and their blooming plum tree "The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil." Oh how i love R.S. nerd jokes. The 20 plus year old structure, cleanliness, and antique decorations thoroughly reminded me of my grandparents house. But the dog livened things up with its constant golden retriever energy. It was a blessing to be in a house and know the experience of the comfort of your own home filled with a luscious garden. The flip side to that is the upkeep of the garden, which is actually well worth it. I ended up not relaxing there as much as i expected. I had many accompaniments thoughout the week, sharing a good thing makes it a great thing. There are so many things i could say about that week, but I have only come to a few conclusions. 1) I want a hot tub when I have my own home. 2) I want a dog, but I'm not sure i want a golden retriever, since while walking their dog i was kindly reminded by an elderly lady that the dog matches my hair. 3) I want fruit trees in a my yard. 4) People make a house a home. 5) Dr. Longman is awesome, and so is his living establishment.
Leaving many many fun details aside, I have finally found my rest back in my lovely apartment in Carpinteria.

PS: Read "The Brothers K" It will make you LOL, cry, and then want to do it again... and your wish will be fulfilled in a surprising way.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Few Poems

Ok, so i was sitting at the beach today soaking in the blessing of serenity and calmness that lies a 60 second walk away from me. Here are my observations amidst enjoying a splendorous book.
Two Poems:

My first look up
Wind tickles the hair of my chest.
While white wings like lightening plunge their beaks into the sea,
an orange orb ducks behind a tree to hide it's beams.

I looked left as saw a couple at work
A pair waddle like penguins,
water rushes inches from their shuffle,
but their synchronous swing pervades
the rhythmic waves,
of salt water
and large portioned diets.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

7 days travelled past the fork... i shoulda picked it up

Howdie,
Here i sit sprawled across my living room floor in my brand new apartment. I am living with a solid crew, Rhyno, Engleman, Diva Drew, Johnny C, Craigory, and we had the honor of Robby G's presence for a little, but he drove to our home in Sac this morning. The apartment is awesome, cheap, a 25 second walk from the beach (which i plan to take full advantage of), soon to be fully furnished, relaxing and lively all at once, and spacious shown even in fact that we have two bathrooms for the six of us (better ratios than Westmont). I am definitely feeling the May gloom, and wish the sun would come out and brighten my life, but i guess to play on a cheesy metaphor, the Son came out 2000 years ago, and i need to remember that and allow the rays of His spirit to brighten my life... but common on Big Yellow, get the picture and push those clouds out of the way, bring the heat!

It has been a very difficult week, i am understanding the anxiety of life in a world where you are dependant on the money an occupation to live, to survive. Of course i could go and be a world traveller, paying next to nothing and living with next to nothing, but that stage may come in time, probably in 4 months when i leave to Africa. For now, it is good to know, feel, and understand the reality of this anxiety, and relate to the rest of the working world, which holds the majority of the population strongly, so that i can better love and minister to those people. That has been a great challenge thus far, having the courage, confidence, and love to serve those who i am working with at the constructions sites. For those of you that don't know, i am the assistant superintendent at the construction of the faculties home's near Westmont. It is a blessing to have a job, but it would also be a blessings to actually have some work that i felt useful at, and my well-spring of potential being tapped. That will take some patience, and i must continue to seek God in this time, and love Him and the people around me more than ever. Simply because it is the hardest time to do so, and at those difficult moments, when you have one hand on the tip of the cliff and your body flailing below, when that hand is most important. Right now, faith, service, diligence, concentration, trust, patience, and every spiritual discipline of Christianity, is that hand. I'm glad Christ is the rock i am grasped to. Maybe the metaphor would be more accurate if Christ was on top of the cliff and grasped firm to my forearm, for our God is a living and moving God.

All that being said, i miss Westmont already. I am not having withdrawals, but i do sincerely miss it. I know that the one thing i will continually miss is Chapel, and the walks around campus. I know that currently, miss my RA Staff, my guys, the classes, and the freedom to be constrained in our schedule. I am finding that those who clog their schedules at Westmont, whom i am apart of, are actually expressing their freedom righteously, for later in life we are unable to clog our schedule with such blessed things that Westmont offers, and taking advantage of them is wise. I can't wait for the day when i get that freedom again. I think it will come most weekends, and in Africa. More details on the Africa trip are pending, and will be unfolded in good time.

Book references: A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanouken (including letters from C.S. Lewis); 1 and 2 Timothy by St. Paul

Current Reading: The Brothers K by David James Duncan

PS: I get to house sit/dog sit at Tremper Longman's house. I can't wait. I think if i was going to go to seminary right now, i would go into Old Testament Studies. I am realizing that i am really interested and like that stuff a lot. I should have understood this last year when i took my OT class.

Question to all you graduates: What two major's w0uld you take if you could do Westmont again. My answer, after much deliberation, would be English and Kinesiology

Current Favorite Qoute: "It is not who you know, but whome you know." Unknown

Saturday, April 25, 2009

oh Westmont.

Here is a little poem for you all Westmont people.

DTR (determine the relationship)
It's come to be that time
when the garden needs water
when warm sheets need a friend
when stars need to rise
over the great expanse, a blanket is spread
containing a millions of twinkles
and two below resting on a blanket.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Lazy Thursday

Welp, if i had to pick a theme song for the last two weeks it would be "Roller Coaster." And if i had to pick a movie scene, it would probably be Will Farrell playing Ron Burgundy in Anchorman right after his dog Baxter gets kicked off a bridge, he is hysterically (in both meanings) screaming at the top of his lungs, "I'm in a glass case of emotion!!!!!!"
On another note, I love proctoring exams. It pays well, i get two hours to do homework or something else such as blogging, and i get to encourage a bunch of students as they stress about their rather unimportant grade and test. I love encouraging them when they look up at me, almost all of them do at some point. I usually will try out my new funny faces on them, or just revert back to some classics like "the high eye brows," or the "semi smile," or the "wide mouth," or the "shoulder shrug to eye role to standing and doing a back flip off the desk"... i might change that one to "The Pecos." I have been working on my Korinne face, the awkward "i'm confused, and a little disappointed" look, but it just hasn't come to fruition yet, at its not the most encouraging during an exam. Maybe I'll have to get some training from her.
One of my favorite things about proctoring is just watching people's reactions. I had no idea people had such similar reactions, i think i recognize all their faces and actions as something i have done before too. The "look at the ceiling an talk to yourself," the "head super glued to palm until i remember this little detail i studied," or the "oh gosh... I'm hungover, and i think someone knows it" (that one i haven't experienced so much... or at all really), "or the "if i just keep staring I will remember, if i just keep staring i will remember... if i just keep staring i will.... HEY I REMEMBER!!". But anyway, this is just an example of a continued life lesson i am learning.
People react similarly and very basic tendencies. And, i am not crazy for just acting as i feel or reacting as i do sometimes, for that is all these people in front of me are doing. But, this is always counterbalanced with the truth that people are soooo different from me, and each other. What i know is different than what someone else knows, and my reaction is going to be different. I need to be confident in who i am, and focused in my present moment, not matter what that may be, reacting honestly, but also evaluating that reaction, and interpreting. Sometime, i can trust my reactions immediately, other times i need to keep my mouth shut and evaluate before speaking or acting. It is an ebb and flow, a trial and error process. There are going to be mistakes, and successes. Life is so complex, and so very simple. There is nothing like the human life.
Random: Everybody thinks and feels. Everybody determines what they feel based on how they think sometimes, and everybody determines what they think based on how they feel sometimes. The question is just which one comes first more frequently. I think it is based on which chemicals in the brain are exercised more and have been exercised more through out thier life. Since there is a history of practice and neurological path ways established (based on those chemical reactions) then those paths are more frequently taken over the other, and it is easier for that person to take that path. This theory is based on a few things: 1, very little knowledge on the details of psychoneurology. 2, people are creatures, and alike all other creatures, will most commonly react how it is easiest for the body to react; In other words, people are lazy. 3, That it actually is easier to react primarily one of the processes (i.e. thought to feel, or feel to thought) before the other. I think people could sit and control thier reactions and actions if given the time to dwell, and that does not make them a thinker for doing so, for both much feeling and thinking would occur.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Duece Duece and a napkidding.

So thus concludes the best birthday i have ever had. Pssshhh, and they say Disneyland is the happiest place on Earth, well i wasn't there today as i thought i would be, and i have never been happier. I love birthdays because they give you land marks to reflect upon the past year from, much like Christmas and every widely celebrated holiday i guess. But i was thinking back to last year and the party in Hieronymus Lounge and the events that followed. That was truly an incredible day, and a blessed time. At that point in life, i said to myself, "this is the best life has ever been, and its only going to keep getting better." Today, nearing the end of the 24 hours of constant blessings, i found myself repeating the words, and remembering that i said them last year, and sincerely thanking God that he has brought be through another year and i am able to say the same thing in even more confidence than before. God's faithfulness gives me hope for the future.
Here is how the day transpired.
I woke up and had a grand breakfast during a chit-chat with Katie, and then i spent my morning with the Lord until class started. After hearing Kihlstrom rant on about Spring Sing in his typical hilarious fashion, i went to Chapel. At the time, i thought this was the best gift i could receive on a birthday. I was given the opportunity to serve those whom i love so much and wash people's feet.
*Tangent
It caused me to think about which was harder for my pride to humble itself to, letting your feet be washed, or washing someone else's feet. For me it is the former. But true humility does not distinguish, it simply is lack of shame and pride in all circumstances, and being willing to accept and serve in all as well.
*End Tangent
But anyway, my heart broke this morning out of joy when i looked up into a few particular faces before i washed their feet. We were bonded a harmonious chord in the water as our hands and feet met, each providing love for the other to receive. I truly understood this when my feet were washed, not once, but twice. This experience in Chapel was heavy and rich, and i processing it is easier and justified just in the memory and accepting its vastness; as much as i would like to try to describe it, it doesn't need words to make it complete or fully understood.
Then i enjoyed good company with someone i had been meaning to catch up with, he treated me to a home cooked grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup, it was delectable and much enjoyed. I then came back from his apartment to the Westmont library and spent the next hour and a half reading some of C.S. Lewis, could i have picked a better author for the day?
The next hour and a half was spent with a good friend, one i have much future hope for, one whom i love and care about much. We lifted some metal together and then enjoyed a run. This lead nicely into a Clark BBQ where i was met with many faces and cheers of happy birthdays. A burger and fruit salad never tasted so good then when your body is a bit sore and cotton mouth is creeping up. It was typical Clark BBQ, full of laughs, dancing, music, and just good ole chillin. Oh, and Korinne and i had quite a lot of fun figuring out what my invitation to Spring Formal is going to be.
Towards the end of the BBQ my brother showed up, and that was a pleasant surprise. We reconvened later that night after he listened to the lecture he came for and i did some studying. He left when it came time for Vida groups, and that's when the real trouble started...
We awaited for the arrival of a few members, cracking jokes and having a grand time. Pecos walks in the room and announces that he is going to give me "something." He had forewarned me about his giving earlier, and at this point i thought he was going to give me something really sweet that he made, like painting. So i stood to face him, and he asked me put my hands behind my back. I hesitated and asked him not to hit me in the groin, and then after his assurance i put them behind my back. At this point i had no idea what it was, and was racking my brain trying to figure out why my hands had to be behind my back for whatever he was going to give me. But immediately after my hands were halfway back behind me, they were grabbed and restrained by all of my guys that had showed up that night. And if you don't know the average height and weight in my section is about 6'2'' 200 lbs of muscle. So as much as i wanna convince myself that i could have gotten away, the fact is that the completely dominated me. Within a minute my hands were duct-tapped behind my back, my feet together, my eyes were blindfolded, and my mouth tapped shut (and at that moment i thanked God for Spring Sing, simply because it compelled me to shave). So after giving in and now fearing for my life that i will soon be tapped to a tree, or pantless, or dropped off a cliff like Aladdin (minus the genie), or all of the above which should give you the image a falling tree crying out for a lamp for help as it plummets into the oceans deep... Ya, thank God that didn't happen. Instead, i was hucked into the bed of Pecos' truck face down a sweatshirt (that was so nice of them), and then left to the company of Josh and the rushing wind which left me feeling quite vulnerable, especially when the whizzing increased and i realized that i was speeding in the back of an open bed on the freeway going 65+ miles an hour. At this point i didn't know whether we were headed North or South, all i knew was that i could easily be killed, and i was thankful to God for every moment thus far, and if i was going to die, then i was happy to go out this way and prepared to go home. But also, i thought of how hilarious it would be to be pulled over by the cops. I'll just let your imagination run with that one.
So when the car finally came to a halt, i was hoisted upon two men's shoulders and carried like a pig to a fire pit inside, where i heard many familiar voices and was so excited to know who and where i was. I was seated down and the blindfold was removed. Then before my eyes so many many faces of people whom i love appeared and rang out the charming melody of Happy Birthday. I looked around and caught a sign that said "Fro yo-yum-yum." So many unexpected faces as smiling back gave me such a great joy, the smile never left my face, and even when i returned i had to just sit alone and let my facial muscles relax. There have been times when i felt my heart grow warm, but in this moment, on this day, and the rest of the evening and even now as i type, my heart isn't just warm, its glowing like the coals you love to roast marshmallows on. The coals coals that glow and you feel at any moment the touch of them upon any material would set it a blaze, and the beauty of a flame would strike up. I think that's maybe a better metaphor for us as Christians that fire. We are coals, and we ignite each other when in community. I'm not going to expand that much more right now, but i hope to live that way, that i would be so joyful inside, that i would ignite with every interaction.
The night concluded with a very joyous CRAM (Clark RA meeting), in which we all shared cake, and talked about middle names a residence business, typical random awesome RA stuff. I'm glad i got to see them, i love them very much. So now i sit in bed, reveling in this most excellent day. A day which, as if the ridiculous number of text messages and facebook comments wasn't enough, i was reminded that i am severely loved by people, and through them, severely loved by God. But, i think the most important part of the day came in Chapel, the time when Christ was focused on, and we as a body came together in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, and without him, this day would have never been this way, God's holiness, love, redemption was truly evident on this day.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Drums...

Ok, so somebody left a marching drum in our hall sometime during dinner. I leave and return to find a white yamaha bass marching drum standing up in front of my door. So many questions immediately came to mine, such as "what sort of kind hearted individual would choose to bless the men of G with such a magnificent instrument of glory? what am i supposed to do with this drum? why did they refuse to leave mallets? what the heck am i going to do with this? where did it come from? does the yamaha factory family miss their long lost brother (or sister)? what the frick am i going to do with this drum????!!!!" I then rolled the drum into my room for safe keeping and part time storage. As i returned from a nights activities including Vespers, and hangout/music making in the Borden's room complete with a chant i have entitled "where are the women/sausage... fest!" which lasted a grand total of 5 minutes (the 5 minutes Annie Mason was missing from our presence).
So now i sit, inspired once more to articulate the life of Tom Shank via blog. I came back back to G and rolled the drum out of my room to resist the temptation to bang on it all night and to avoid the danger of stubbing my toesies on it in the morning. I am awaiting a night of wrestles sleep due to the countless gunshots which no doubt are decapitating countless zombies on the TV on the other side of the wall, and the sporadic banging of the drum, which has already had its first encounter with Lucas i believe. Nick came out and documented it, God bless his soul, and then continued to run with an elaborate story which eventually led to dubbing our new prized possession, "The gnome drum" (it is an extended inside joke). Welp, goodnight, and God Bless you all.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

"You Look Horrible"

Ok, so here is whats up. The last 4 days i have been sick. Everytime i lay my head to my couches armrest it snuggles up to and whispers, "no don't go... you are sick, just a little longer..." And typically my response has been, "Ya, you are right, i'm sick, i deserve to rest and let my body get recover, but just for an hour of nap." I don't know if i am using this sickness as an excuse to be lazy and mop around with hunched shoulders as i walk from the soup station in the DC back to my room. I think it hits harder at different moments. Either way, this is the first time being sick this year, and it suuuucks.
Last night i took some night-quil (sp?) for the first time, great and bad decision. I zonked out immediately, and again when i awoke, my pillow whispered the same thing to my as my couch, I can't believe it!! THEY ARE IN KAHOOTS WITH EACH OTHER!!! Except i think the pillow is a more vicious enemy. Its strength is weaker, it only postponed my day 17 minutes instead of 60, but its timing is impeccable, for i was seven minutes late to proctoring Dr. Longman's OT test. I practically fell out of bed, into my shoes, and found the same clothes as yesterday (minus the pj pants). I walked in to a silent classroom, and no Dr. Longman, and i thought, "well, this could be really good or really bad." He showed up 5 minutes later and walked in and the first thing he said was, "You look horrible."
(Digression)
This is the second time someone a professor has told me verbatim, "You look horrible", and it was senior year, but of highschool. I had pulled an all nighter writing my poetry anthology in the typical Thomas fashion. But this time, he sent me home after i laid on the ground in the back and passed out for the the first 30 minutes. I love good ole Mr. Moses and the good times Brian Pancoast and i had there. But he and that class is another story altogether, another 50 stories altogether.
(And were back)
Even though as i sat there in front of Longman realizing that i'm not feeling too horrible, and have certainly felt worse, i gave in anyway and said, "ya i'll probably be skipping classes today." And then followed up with, "I'm going to stay though, i need the money."
So now here I sit in front of 60 students. None of them realize that i am writing this blog, that girl in the corner doesn't know i just looked at her, and neither does that guy, oh there we go, i got some eye contact! Proctoring exams is fun, its kinda weird too, they assume that the subprof knows everything... i might flunk the test if i took it... na i'de probably get a C, but still, i almost want to tell them all... but that wouldn't do anything. Ok, that concludes this blog. I am going to end on a sober and sad note though. I am going to be praying today about still going on PC. At this moment, its a no, but we'll see what the day brings.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Passion's Conference of enemies and oppressed.

"You must make your heart a spiritual temple, a temple where you can go to adore Him incessantly"
These are the words of Brother Lawrence in Practicing the Presence of God. They caused me to reflect of a theme that came up this week. By a various different people i was given the encouraging words, "Tom, you have a good heart, a caring heart." I think Mark, Aimee, Amanda, and probably one other person told me this. It meant the world to me; its incredible what an encouraging word will do for a person, particularly in times of doubt. But all this talk about heart caused me to reflect on an instance that happened a few weeks ago (mid/late January) last year.

Beau, Arianna, Courtney, Tim, Pecos, Matt Miller, and others all went to Passion conference together. On the second day we were walking towards the staples center in downtown LA when we saw a fairly disheveled man get chased and yelled at by another well kept looking man, with certainly more anger. Tim reached out with a call to stop the better kept man from chasing and verbally abusing the other man. I, not wanting to have conflict, told Tim to stop and encouraged him to let the men be and keep walking. After a week of recalling that moment and feeling convicted that my actions were not out of a compassionate heart that hates injustice (1 Cor 13.), i found Tim in the DC back at Westmont and told him that i thought he was right in trying to stop that man.

Now the moment comes back to me, and i am struck again, for when the weak are protected, a hatred towards the afflicting creeps up. But that is not the heart of Jesus either, or Steven, or any of the other formed apostles for that matter. They loved even those who persecuted in much more atrocious ways then the well kept man. I should yes recognize that the LA conflict had lines of injustice and should seek to defend those patronized, for whatever reason, but i should also recognize that the man patronizing is loved just as much, and probably more (Luke 8). I, and we as Christians, should have pity on those who afflict, for their hurt and brutal anger is just as much in need of healing and grace, as the heart of the afflicted. We should love our enemies, those who hate, as much as those who are hated. This is much more true only if Jesus truly loves all people, and all everyone has a chance of heavenly life... I'm still working through that right now... and probably will be for a long time coming.

Friday, January 30, 2009

The Beginning of the End

Wow, im sorry ya'll, i had envisioned this blog being kept more up to speed. But i guess somethings are sacrificed when you are in college.

So my last semester of College started... dang. This is a crazy thought. I never imagined me saying that, and i still don't touch the reality of it. But honestly, i think this has been one of the absolute best starts to any of my semesters. In all areas of my life. Mostly though i have learned the importance of these aspects: prayer, humility, discipline, honesty, trust, and confidence. The proper action of these things in my life has really shaped it events for the better.

Since i have been back in school, i have been on 4 planes, went from 75 degrees full of beaches and sunshine to 12 degrees of cold snow in the same day (traveled to Boston and back), been in a wedding, read multiple books, got a new computer, taken up swimming and am almost starting to enjoy it, gone through a mature heartbreak and recovered, and been shamed by my sin. I am loving my classes this semester and i have been engaged in the class periods and outside materials. Steve Denler and I just sent in applications to AIM (Africa Inland Mission) and are eager to see what God is going to do. What a good life this is!

I think i had some profound thoughts i wanted to write about earlier, and also wanted to write in detail about my Boston trip, but its too far in the past for me to try and recount many details. All i have is praise and a request for mercy. Amen

PS: Here is a cheezy, rudimentary poem i wrote to the couple i sat with on my way to Boston.

The Couple
A 50 years young couple sits next to me.
Yet, only an eighth of those together.
Their prolonged joy is seen and resonates on the others cheek with every kiss.
With Red-Sox accents they speak,
but with googley eyes they communicate.
First encountering each other through the sport of cycling,
but first knowing each other after their wheels were placed on each others fingers.
Together they ride the bike of timeless romance and love,
till death does its part.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Von Schenk


So this is the first post of the New Year. Its going to be a crazy and exciting one. New Years are great because it commonly unites humanity in their stages of reminiscence over the past and commitments to hopeful futures. Its just a cool bond that humans share, which are seemingly rarer and rarer these days.

I just got back from seeing the movie Valkyrie staring Tom Cruise. What is so incredible about this movie is that i am related to Claus Philipp Maria Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg. He is, by marriage, my Grandfather's second cousin. Which means that his wife, has the same blood as i do. That is encouraging. No, more than that, it is inspiring and moving. To think that i have the same blood coursing through my veins as those who supported and stood against one of the most tyrannous and atrocious evils ever existing in human history, moves my soul.

Recently i was spending time with my Grandma, i realized how humble she is and how her honest and servant heart shines even in her old age. I see how that has been passed down to my Dad, and to me.

So in the recent viewing of Valkyrie, and in her speaking, i feel as if it is no accident that i have this increasing desire to stand for justice, and be a courageous warrior - of sorts - for God's kingdom. This will stay with me for a while. The legacies left before me are the legacies running through me. These legs will probably walk oversees, and who knows what legacies will be left by my footprints.