Everyone has a voice, and a choice to use it well, use it poorly, or not to use it at all.

Friday, August 10, 2012


A deeply nestled joy burns in my chest now, as I am a man of twenty two years (and not dead yet!), swimming through the stars on my eternal journey. Joy like this comes only from one place - and I mean joy of a particular kind, not the highest joy. The highest joy is Christ. This joy - born of a beauty and a breath - is wild and uncertain, full of hope and increasing confidence in the cupped places of the universe. Cupped and overflowing, like hands held under gleaming folds of liquid life from a mountain stream. And confidence grows as again and again I jump, slip, and walk into them. And turn to find another palm-full poured over me. (Whose hands are these? I recognize them by their holes.) A universe like this, full of these - well now, it is good.

The highest joy now, Christ alone, oh how my fitful soul exalts in him! There must be a certain way in which each spirit delights in Him. The pagan lost find no delight in Christ, and thus have no true delight at all. The redeemed - we who are like mean weeds transplanted in a magnificent garden of wild and wonderful growth - each appreciate the Son according to their capacities and natures. I have seen Christ from the bottom of a filthy hole, and His face is all the sweeter for it. I continually come in tatters, my feet bloody from a path of broken glass, my mind full of the shame of my foolishness and sin, and LEAP into the pool of Siloam. Christ himself. I called to you for help, and you healed me. Healing is better than help.

So now, with joys of different varieties expanding my insides, I enter into what I expect and pray is my last semester at college. Hopeful for the land of beyond is what I am. Two years ago I walked into my first class at EKU, my mind shaped by Nepal more than by High School, the taste of dal bat still lingering in my mouth. Four months from now, God willing, I will walk out of my last final, and into something else. Patagonia, California, Nepal, Kentucky, work, seminary, or a life of moderately modified vagrancy...God knows where and how. A lifetime of ministry, adventure, and good, solid, sanctifying, redeeming work. 

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