An outlet for my own reflections and musings on life, people, and just all around stuff. (The title comes from one of my favorite Flannery O'Connor stories.)
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For any of you who may still be following this blog, I have also started blogging as a Key Voice blogger for Day1.org. You can find my first post here.
Why are we in love with stuff? Stuff breaks. Stuff gets old. Stuff wears out. Stuff is expensive. So why do we love it? I say we because I love stuff too. Of course, I'd like to think my stuff is a bit more socially acceptable, but at the end of the day it's really just more stuff. Stuff is a symbol of our spending power--our worth. Stuff gives us control, grants us status. Stuff clutters our hallways and offices, yet we don't want to get rid of it, because we know we'll just go out and get more. There are people who have serious issues with stuff; we call them hoarders. However, the strange thing is no one has ever come to my home, seen some stuff I don't use, and say, "Hey man, why you got all this stuff over here that you don't use? Are you a hoarder?" I don't know. Maybe we're all not that obsessed with stuff, but it does say something that we live in a country with an entire industry built around storing excess stuff. I'd like to ...
"When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways." The Apostle Paul, 1 Corinthians 13:11 When I was a child... I assumed everyone somehow started out the same way I did. They all came from the same sort of family with they same sort of resources. Everyone had the same experiences and the same opportunities. When I was a child... I thought there came a point in one's life where he or she purposefully decided to "make it" or simply get by. I thought those who were broke, poor, in jail or on the street wound up in those situations by their own free will. When I was a child... I thought crimes were committed by those who were purely evil and couldn't possibly have any good in them, those kinds of people who did bad things because they were bad people. When I was a child... My eyes were covered with the rose colored glasses of childhood, my horizons were only as broad...
This week, I'm travelling with the youth from my church to camp in Virginia. Today, on the way to camp, we stopped for the day in Washington, D.C.(by the way, there is way too much to see in just one day). And now, as I'm finally ready for rest after a packed day in our nation's capital, I thought I might share a thought or two about what I experienced today. I was reminded that the true greatness of our country is not found in arrogant attempts at proclaiming such greatness, but in the humble ways in which so many women and men in this great land have fought (not only themselves but for) their sisters and brothers. They have not only fought on the battlefields of war. They have fought in the countless courtrooms of our nation seeking justice. They have fought in the state houses to pass laws to govern this great nation. They have fought from the Oval Office seeking to make the true and fair decisions that held the power to alter the course of human history. They have ...
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