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.

"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.

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.

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.

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.

MR. KRATCHET!!!

Ok, so not to start this blog off on an off-key note or anything, but i just found out i am on urbandictionary.com. That is pretty cool, i mean im not the most hoped for definition, but still cool... I hope its not Gieve or Ethan or someone else playing a trick on me.

So today is Christmas. This is the most time i have spent around only my immidiate family in a while. It is the last time i am allowed to sleep at my home for more than a week without having to pay rent, thats wierd. But we at the Shank household have a long line of traditions, starting on Christmas eve. We go to a Christmas eve service, come back, sit around and eat homemade Christmas tree cookies, burn a Yule log, try and get the angel chimes to work, and usually open a present of PJ's. Then we watch Charles Dickens, "A Christmas Carol," featuring George C. Scott (its the best version) in which we all fall asleep to it at some point or another, then rest our heads untill the sun rises. In the morning, we eat some breakfast in front of the fire, poor out our stockings which include every single year: a can of pringles, some floss picks, gum, a trinket thats freshens or a stainpen, some chocolate, and some other random stuff (my mom does stocking stuffing just right!). Then we elect (bicker until someone volunteers) someone to be "Santa Clause" and hand out the presents, opening in order one-by-one.

This year was marvelous, i loved the events, and we almost went through the entire day without a big debate, argument, or fight. This year it was a minor one over the family cribbage tournament. It was a great day, God has really helped to change our family over the years, or at least my view of our family. Today, i went for a prayer run, and i'll tell ya what, it really helped me appreciate my family for who they are. Even though we didn't mention Jesus much through out the day, i could see him in our actions. Everyone's buttons got pressed at some point during the day, and in the past that would have lasted all day, but today, i watched patience stretch itself and mask my family's faces. I saw my brother recognize his imposition, and calm himself, i worked myself through a few situations by letting my heart let go of selfishness, and i saw my sister accept a present with only minor critiques, and then later shower the giver with compliments of thanks a praise. What a blessed day it was!!! I forgot about how hard it is to serve, especially when at home when you would think it would be easiest (its the hardest for me). But being home, and experiencing a Christmas like this one, really helped me to understand why Jesus came, and why we celebrate his birth.

I celebrate it today because if he didn't come, i would have probably put my brother in a choke hold dispite his thoughtfulness in giving me a tool set. I celebrate because he redeemed my family, and has given me comfort and is teaching me to appreciate my family, and love them without constant critique. He is turning the Mr. Scrooge i am at home, into an Ebenezer.

Celestial Days (Why i love C.S. Lewis)

So its Christmas break, i just read "The Great Divorce" and loved it. The following excerpts explain why, and why i love C.S. Lewis.

"I cannot now remember whether she was naked or clothed. If she were naked, then it must have been the almost visible penumbra of her courtesy and joy which produces in my memory the illusion of a great and shining train that followed her across the the happy grass. If she were clothed, the the illusion of nakedness is doubtless due to the clarity with which her innermost spirit shone through the clothes. For clothes in that country are not a disguise; the spiritual body lives along each thread and turns them into living organs, A robe or a crown is there as much one of the wearer's features as a lip or an eye." (pg 120).

and

"Pity was meant to be a spur that drives joy to help misery." (131).

and

"There is but one good, that is God. Everything else is good when it looks to Him, and bad when it turns from Him." (106).


I'm not sure i agree with all of the theology Lewis throws out, but i think its a pretty good description of some people, and something to consider. Its probably the most feasible explanation of why people go to Hell that i have read thus far.