Carwash

It is the little things that make us laugh the most sometimes. Today while coming home from breakfast with my mom, we stopped at Walmart then we headed home, but she wanted to take Christine through the car wash. An astute reader will notice that I called her car Christine and a wise reader might question naming a car after a homicidal car from a Stephen King book. If you want to know why we did that, head on over to my mothers blog called: All My Mother's Fault.

So we pulled behind the library and headed toward the car wash. "I wish you were driving," mom said as we got to the entrance.

"Well pull over and let's switch," I said. It was an easy fix. But as she slowed down, I looked behind us and saw a car pulling into the wash as well. "Pull into a parking spot, there is a car behind us."

Instead of pulling in she decided to go up to the car wash. "Please select a wash. Please insert money." The machine told us. After a few minutes of fighting with the payment method of putting a credit card into the reader and pulling it out, she opened the door to get a better reach. Eventually she managed to get the card into the slot and get the reader to read it. To be fair, even I had a hard time getting the reader to read the card when I washed my car.

After the bout with the machine and managing to emerge victorious, we rolled up the windows and pulled into the wash. The sprayers started, at first it was OK, but then I noticed a splash on the dash, then a drip by the door. Then hell broke loose as the brushes got near the door. Water spraying everywhere, soap sudsing the dash, mom's clothes were wet like she had pulled them out of the wash. I started laughing. She started screaming. I laughed more.

I looked over at the wet carnage of soap and water and said, in a gentle and calm voice, "You should shut the door."

With a bit of a scream and more water pouring in, she pulled the door closed and the water stopped coming in. Instantly a stream of curse words poured forth like that would make even the toughest sailor blush. I think it could have even sent C'thulhu scrambling into the depths to slumber once again. I laughed some more and she looked at me and sent a few curse words toward me. Which made me laugh more.

After the wash, we began to pull out, letting the driers blow some of the water off the car. I suggested that we open the doors and let them dry the inside as well. I only received a glare that told me to shut up. We headed home and half way around the circle in the center of town, She burst into laughter. I followed suit. It was very funny to see the water dump on her, and only fitting because it happened to me in one of her other cars and she was laughing hysterically while also complaining about the water in her car. It was like the cosmos was granting me vengeance years later.

She may argue some of the points, like being able to scare an old god back into his slumber, but I will remain steadfast in my side of things. I do sometimes wonder though, was it Christine that caused this to happen. I hope she remembers that she likes me.


On a more personal note, thank you for a year of fun blogging and have a happy 2014!

In Defense of the Christian Christmas

Every years I hear people say how Christmas was a pagan holiday and the early Christians took it and made it their own.. But that's not the whole story you are hearing.

"In 46 BC Julius Caesar in his Julian calendar established December 25 as the date of the winter solstice of Europe. Since then, the difference between the calendar year (365.25 days) and the tropical year (~365.2421897 days) moved the day associated with the actual astronomical solstice forward approximately three days every four centuries, arriving to December 12 during the 16th century. In 1582, Pope Gregory XIII decided to restore the exact correspondence between seasons and civil year but, doing so, he did not make reference to the age of the Roman dictator, but to the Council of Nicea of 325, as the period of definition of major Christian feasts. So, the Pope annulled the 10-day error accumulated between the 16th and the 4th century, but not the 3-day one between the 4th AD and the 1st BC century. This change adjusted the calendar bringing the northern winter solstice to around December 22. Yearly, in the Gregorian calendar, the solstice still fluctuates a day or two but, in the long term, only about one day every 3000 years." - Wikipedia

This means that at the time Christmas was first presented and celebrated, sometime 4th century, people knew the Winter Solstice as the 25th of December. The Winter solstice is the shortest day of the year. Where the tilt of the planet's axis is at the farthest away peak in the revolution around the sun. This is the case for Northern Hemisphere only, southern hemisphere would have been equivalent to June 25th or so.

For the early Church, that meant from this day on, the days grow longer and the light begins to prevail again. Its a symbol of how Jesus fulfilled the promises of old, and created a new promise between God and man. It is the start of new life. The early church knew that it was not a literal time of Jesus' birth, anyone reading the bible can surmise that his birth was most likely in spring or summer.

Yes it is true, many pagan celebrations and holidays begin, end or take place around this time of the year, such as the oft cited Saturnalia. And many of them also share this idea new life or a new cycle beginning now. But to say that Christians took the day and is not really correct. The Council of Nicea realized how many things were going on at the time and thought it would be good to also be able to celebrate a Christian holiday at the same time. It is easier, as any Christian going out into the world and sharing the gospel will know, to open conversation when you are sharing something in common. In this case, we can tell the world while the rest of the world is celebrating their religious holidays, about the grace and love of our Christ Jesus. It is very true, many of our 'traditions' are taken from pagan things, such as gift giving and Christmas trees, but adopting traditions of people again makes it easier to share with them. Besides who doesn't like decorating Christmas trees and opening presents?

When you hear people talk about how the holiday is losing its Christian roots, that's because it is. Christmas is a Christian holiday, hence the first part: Christ. It will be a Christian holiday until the end of time. If you do not agree with that, then I ask you, please do not celebrate it. You don't have to stop giving presents, stop spending time with your family, stop doing whatever tradition you do on Christmas, but for those of us who do believe, it is the day we celebrate and honor the birth of of our Lord Jesus, and the first step in God's salvation of the human race and to bring us back into the arms of our God. If you so wish to still celebrate it without the true meaning behind it, that is OK, but please do not try to ruin it, try to change it, or make things harder for the rest of us. I respect your choice to to believe it, or celebrate it, so please respect mine in my celebrations. 

Christmas is the second most important holiday in the Christian year. But people make it like it is the most important. Yes the birth of our Christ is important, but its main purpose is to fulfill prophecy and bring us hope. Hope came to the world as a baby. That hope grew to be a man which will bring us to the most important holiday. So embrace the hope that the season brings, hope of a life of grace and salvation through the baby we celebrate.

Also, for those out there that think X-mas is a bad thing, it really isn't and has been around for a very long time. The X refers to the 22nd letter of the Greek alphabet, Chi. The Greek X has a kh sound like 'ach!' or 'Achmed.' It is also the first letter of the word Χριστός meaning Christ. So to say X-Mas is still saying Christmas just with a Greek flare to it.

I wish you all a very Merry Christmas.

Night is a Cruel Mistress

Today while I was sitting in church waiting to take communion, I felt God touch me. It wasn't a more than a little pang in my heart. I have been struggling with the drama that I mentioned before. Every time I think it's over, it comes back again. It's like a pain, a thorn in my foot. Today God reminded me he is working. It is his plan, and we are to fill the parts of his story he would like us to fill. So when my drama stuff begins to get in the way of my worship of him, there is stuff that needs to be fixed.

I feel the effects of the drama at night. So many nights are spent in a discomfort and sadness at the loss of friends, hopes of that perfect girl for me, and a loneliness that goes beyond them all. But it is God who has and always will be there for me and can calm even my over active brain from its horrible thinking.

I have a friend, she is a beautiful young lady who struggles through the same things as me. We usually seem to do it at different times, which is great because the other can cheer the other up. Tonight I was talking to her about this very stuff. And while I was talking to her I found a way to sum up the problems so many people have.

Our brains are our worst enemies. Our brains begin to think, not on what we want them to, but on the things that we do not have and each time we do it the same way, first we are happy, then we see someone we think is happier than us, then we get sad because we want to be happy like them too. At least that is the way it is in my head, and the order of my thought processes. Then I remember just because they have what I want doesn't mean they are happier in anyway. They have what they have, they may be breaking on the inside like I am over something they see me with. And I try to keep in my head that in the end, whatever I am waiting for will be even better when it does happen, in God's time.

The Bible even talks about things at night.

"For you are all sons of light and sons of the day. We do not belong to the night or the darkness. For those who sleep, sleep at night, and those who get drunk are drunk at night." 1 Thessalonians 5:5, 7

"Let us walk with decency, as in the daylight: not in carousing and drunkenness; not in sexual impurity and promiscuity; not in quarreling and jealousy." Romans 13:13

 And others. It talks about the things we do in the dark, and warns against them. Many times in this world, one of those things is porn. With computers in every room, and in our hands and pockets all day long, it is easy to let the darkness creep in and succumb to the temptation of it. Even happily married people can fall prey to porn.

In my case, and the case of my friend, we talked farther, and broke it down even more. It is a jealousy that builds up at seeing what others have and wishing for it for oursleves. This jealousy is what drives the depression into a sadness and bitterness.

As I quoted above, the Bible talks about all the stuff we do in the dark, but if its not sexual impurity, drunkenness, or some other vice, people like me and like her, we have our minds that mess it all up. Even if we don't think about it, it is us doubting God at work. But as the song says,

"The only thing that comforts me, when I watch the world breaking, That in spite of the stillness, God your still moving." Quiet Science

He is always moving, working and building everything even better than even our dreams could do. I say it a lot, but it is ever so true, we need to keep our eyes on Jesus, our minds focused on God, and our hearts filled with the Holy Spirit, if we ever want to beat depression and other wrong thinkings that we do. 

The night is full of silence, and the silences in our head are louder than all the noise of the world. They are mighty and wicked storms smashing at our minds. There are many types of silences in the storms, but there is always God who can fill the silences with peace. The quiet empty will be filled with the love of a God so great, so mighty, he measures the universe in his hand. 

Some parts of this wonderful universe have it right. They are working for God, instead of trying to fight Him like us. The Bible tells us:

"The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the sky proclaims the work of His hands.
Day after day they pour out speech;
night after night they communicate knowledge.
There is no speech; there are no words;
their voice is not heard.
Their message has gone out to all the earth,
and their words to the ends of the world.
In the heavens He has pitched a tent for the sun."

Psalms 19:1-4

 Maybe we should take a cue from the stars, maybe when that night comes and we find ourselves in that darkness and lost in the thoughts of ourselves, maybe we should turn around and sing with the stars, add our voices to the amazing symphony God already has playing in the background. We worship a God who has his own score playing every second of every day in this story of him. Praise Him.

Of Poems

I love to write short stories because like me, they are not to short that I feel I am missing out on more, and not too long that I grow bored of them. They are the perfect size for enjoyable reading. But I have always had a soft spot for poems. I know poems are so nichey and so many people 'don't get it.' But poems are short and sweet ways to get how you are feeling across without using thousands of words.

True, there are some big ass poems out there, looking at you Odyssey. However, most are a bite sized chunk into the author's heart. One thing I love about poems is that you can write them about whatever you want. All you have to do is like it. Its true.

One time I wrote a poem about the Coke bottle that was on my desk, well about the Coke inside it. It was a good poem. I listed a few things that I liked and worded them to flow nicely and poof I had Ode to Coke.

Poems are a delightful piece of writing meant to fill and satisfy the reader. So I am going to share my Ode to Coke poem with you, and I am going to write a new one just for fun. I hope you enjoy my Ode to Coke.

Ode to Coke
Oh fresh coke, how cold you are,
Your bite is refreshing when I am thirsty.
The smell of the coke smoke,
Is a bitter perfume,
When opened ice cold.
When you mix a little cherry,
For that very unique taste,
A delightful smooth drink,
Is made to quench a thirst.
Oh my coke my lovely coke,
How do I love thee.
With your lovely taste,
And your red and white label,
You make my life complete.

So many people think poems need to rhyme, or be set to a particular pattern, but I never cared. The poem should be how the author needs it to be. I wrote this one for a class in school. I got an A of course. It also helped that the teacher also was a coke lover and always had a can on her desk. Since then I have also written a second one about Coke, but maybe I will share that another time.

I guess now comes the time for me to write another poem. I didnt know what I was going to write about when I sat down to write this. But after thinking for a little bit, and browsing the internet, I think I have a good one for you.


He suddenly knew what he was looking for,
When he saw her smile light the room.
From the farthest corner he could see,
That she was smiling and laughing,

Found on Pintrest. It was the last part that I liked.
And I used it for the first line.

And he just needed it more.

He slowly walked across the floor,
Trying hard to remember to breathe.
Until he came to her table,
And managed to squeak out a "Hi"
As her attention turned to him.

He then forced through his throat,
All the air in his lungs,
As he asked her to dance.
She smiled and said "Sure,"
She walked out onto the dance floor.

The night seemed to swirl,
His heart was beating so fast.
But when that dance was over,
They knew it would be alright.
They knew everything was just right.

They married early next spring,
They celebrated their marriage with everyone,
And began a new life together.
Time would continue to march on,
But they never seemed to mind.


Ok, so when I started this one, I had something else in mind. Weird how those things work. But I guess it turned out nice. A young man meeting a woman who they just naturally clicked. Guess I am still a classic romantic.

I like telling not just my feelings in poems, but sometimes use them like very short short stories. Like the Odyssey, sometimes a poem is a perfect place to tell someone something. Sometimes even short ones like mine, are just the right length for what had to be said.

I wish poems would find a bigger place in the market, after all, I have one book of them published now, and several more I am working on. Poems need to find a way to come back into the light of written text, share the stage with Novels and Short Stories. Finish of the literary trilogy.

If you would like to read my poems, which are better than the ones above, feel free to check out my book:

lulu.com

iBookstore

Barnes and Noble

The Dreaded 'D' Word.

The dangers of World of Warcraft should be apparent upon log in. Messages flash across the bottom of the loading screen, "Be nice and maybe you will get invited back." "Take all things in moderation, even World of Warcraft." What they should have on there is, "Don't get close to people, because that's how drama happens."

I have seen several times, people who play a lot getting close to each other until there is an eruption and pain, then the guild splits. Sometimes the split can kill the guild, other times it is just losing a friend. What I realized is happening is the same thing that we deal with in high school. Drama. Sadly I see it happening all the time.

But I wonder why drama finds its way into things like World of Warcraft. Partly, and this may offend some and for that I am sorry, I think it is because the people who play are rather immature to a point. I am not saying they all are, nor am I saying that it is a bad thing. I think we all have a similar bit in us, we want the escape, the fun of a different world, just to play.

I really do think people should learn to play as adults as we did children. Not to the point where we start to mess things up, but to go out, with nothing more on our minds but to play. I think it would help creativity in the work place because our imagination is working again. It would give us more productive people and give us a lot more happier people than if we never played.

I think WoW gives us the chance to do that. And any game for that matter, whether you play Battlefield, Sims, those dumb, I mean fun, Facebook games, Halo, Gears, or CoD. It is a chance for us to let off some steam, clear our minds, and shoot things. It gets us out of the daily grind and into something that enables us to be kids again.

And people like us, we have a bit of immaturity in us. We feed it and play with it, all the while we play the games. So we find ourselves in places where we act like children. Most of us that play behind screens all the time, find it easy to be more of ourselves than we can in real life. So we begin to act immaturely.

This is not always the case, sometimes it has to do with wanting to fit in. Which is something I think everyone can recognize in life. We are always wanting to fit, be accepted and belong. So when things are going good, it is fine, but when things start to go bad, we find the drama begins again.

I have been part of the drama before. I have been participant, and second party to it. I have tried to fix it, and help move on from it. I don't really mind it until I take it out of the game. Then I turn to my friends to help me leave it behind. Drama isn't something people normally want, but as long as I can help make things better for people, I am OK with it.

There is one cure I can think of for drama. That is a relationship with Christ first. As I have mentioned before, if we let ourselves be open to God, keep our communication to God open, and remember he is always with us, then the drama doesn't get in the way so much. I know it seems like a stretch to say that. I can even hear you asking "How can God keep drama away?"

It is kinda of hard to explain, but I will try my best for you. Drama is created when you put your feelings, your thoughts, your heart even, before other people. You get these feelings in your heart and they take you over for a time. Then they find the object of your feelings, and begin to slowly tear a hole in your relationship. I have seen it happen first hand. Once the tear is complete, drama has been spewed all over the ground, and all you have left is a broken husk that was once your heart.

If we want to keep this from happening, We need to make sure God stays at the center of it all. If you put God first and foremost in your feelings, thoughts and heart, the result is an overflowing amount of love. Instead of twisting the feelings into black roots, they spring forth with a brilliance only God is able to shine. God will link your relationship with chains holding it together. And what you are left with is a bright and glorious beacon that is your heart.

It is really hard to do and I hope that all made sense to you. If God is your center, then everything in life will be easy. That's not to say you wont have hard times, you wont be rich, you wont be famous, but you will always have the strength to keep going. Foot after foot after foot, He will keep you moving forward. Ours is not a hope of flesh and blood, but a hope of a future with God. It is a better hope than all the hopes of this world.

I have recently seen drama effect my guild. There is more hurt from the aftermath and more pain. But God is working constantly through it all. He is moving people to where he wants them. Putting words of comfort and happiness where they are needed the most. Drama weakens the links between everyone in the guild. But weird thing is, when God has healed the wounds, what is left is stronger and better than before. Sometimes drama can act as pruning. The fruit of the guild will be sweeter and better than years before.

Seeing God work his will with the people involved, there is a song that comes to mind. I recently found this band through another band I listen to. The band is called Quiet Science. I have to say I love them, and I plan on talking more about how great music is but for now, I will say that their music wraps me up and holds me and aligns my brain to something God can use. They have a song called Cumulus. The part that reminds me of the drama and the aftermath that is slowly beginning to glow brighter is this.

"If everything was as it should be,
I'd be standing there with you,
Beneath cumulus clouds that,
Surround the full moon.
The only thing that comforts me,
When I watch my world breaking,
That in spite of my stillness,
God you're still moving.
Oh, God you're still moving."

Since God is still moving despite the drama we have caused, despite the depressions, the angers, the hatreds, and the silence we create, we are greeted with comfort, healing, peace and love. God is good and amazing being able to take our worst moments and make them bright, wonderful and glorious. In the end, drama is just another causality of God's greatness.



Sorry for no picture in this one, I just couldn't find anything that was just right for this blog.

Trust

I believe in a thing called Trust. Trust is something that, regardless who you are, needs to be earned. Now, trust cannot be earned without a little bit being given first. When you meet a new person, you give them your name, and some vague info about you. If they take your trust and add to it, they give you some back. And the cycle goes back and forth until the new person becomes a trusted friend.

But trust can very easily be broken, and sometimes to the point of not being able to be repaired. If trust breaks down past that tiny bit that we are first given, it will never be able to be added to and built up. Trust is gone, and so is any potential friendship you might have had.

I am very big on trust, as well as things that go along with it. Oddly enough I feel me going into being vulnerable with our friends. We talked in the past about being vulnerable with God, because that is the most important thing in becoming who we are meant to be, and who we want to be the most. Now lets look at being vulnerable to our friends and how it enables us to be who God wants us to be.

I have many friends that I work hard to be trustworthy to. I keep secrets better than priests. I know things about people that make me feel so honored to know and I will keep those until I die. In the years I have also broken that trust of friends and lost people who were very dear to me.

Trust is an investment of time and love. It is to honor your friend, or whoever you are building trust with, and not only building a friendship, but you build that person as well. Trust, I believe is mostly built by allowing yourself to become vulnerable to the other person. 

As anyone who has read this before, I play World of Warcraft. In it, I find the ability to open oneself is magnified by the screen on which we view the world. Trust actually plays a larger role in the game than one would expect. Though it is on a small scale, when we run a random we are trusting the other people know what they are doing. If they ask, then we should try to help them learn the dungeon. But the skilled veterans of the game, we have played them before and we just hand out a small bit of trust to our tanks, healers and damage.

On a larger scale, we build trust and friendship with our guild members. We trust, as a Guild Leader, that when we are gone, our officers keep the guild working smoothly. As a guild member, we trust our other members to not ninja the bank. When you look at even a larger scale, you get into people who actually become your friend. We trust they are not actually pedophile old men, creepy little boys who screams "Pics or GTFO" in trade chat, but rather they are simply nice people looking to play a game they enjoy.

I met a friend on there we shall name Luna. We met through a mutual friend and since have become very good friends. Since we first began talking, I have been slowly opening my trust doors to her and every step of the way, she has done the same. We have the screen to give us protection, but soon we felt we didn't even need that. We were friends, and I trust her. The trust is strong with her.

I put myself at a vulnerable spot, where she met me. It blossomed into friendship, into a very good friendship. And this all comes to me so easy and willingly that it leaves me wondering why it is so hard for people to connect with other people. For example, why is it we cannot be open with our friends. Is it not the job of a friend to be there, to listen, to comfort and not to judge you? Sure it is. But not many people are willing to be good enough friends like that. What is it that keeps us from opening the gate to our emotions and truly connecting with people. Is it the vulnerability that it places us in, or is it worry that someone might think less of us?

Because of the hard work I put into trust, I have a few friends I trust enough to talk to about anything that is bothering me. I am lucky. But no matter how lucky I am there, I still feel this bit of hesitation when it comes to talking about my sins with them. Sin is one of those things we all deal with every minute of every day. Yet we try our hardest to push sin under a rug. Like in those cartoons when someone trashed a whole room, they push it all under the rug in the center of the room and the rug bulges up with so much sin. That is our lives and eventually that sin will spill out onto the floor and we won't be able to hide it anymore.

That is why being open, vulnerable and connecting to a small group of friends, or a single friend, is so vital as a Christian. We need to have people that will hold us accountable for our sins and build us up when we falter. I hope I don't sound too Catholic, but confession is good for the soul. Not just good, it is vital to our souls. Without confession the sin will sit and fester and rot us from the inside. But the problem is, we cannot connect to people to confess. It's so very hard to try to open that door to someone and they shut up and stare at us.

But when we can trust with all we are, our fellow Christians and friends, they can hold us accountable for our sins as the bible tells us to, and we can become more of what God has wanted us to be since he made us. I recently trusted a friend enough to confess to. Luna has only shown me some of the best a person can be and I opened up. When I was telling her, I felt so vulnerable and humiliated and scared. But she embraced me, though not literal, and told me it was OK and she would pray for me as I work through getting the sin out of my life.

It is a scary thing to allow that kind of trust with anyone. But in the end, I want to be the best I can be for a God who only deserves the best. So I urge you my friends and readers, embrace your friends and let them be open to you so that they may be better Christians and in turn, be open to you and you can become a better Christian.

Trust will always be a risk to ourselves. Though there is no real shield form the hurt if that trust is broken, we only have to remember one simple thing. We have God with us. So if people hurt us, we have the creator to fall back on and get comfort. He will always be there, waiting to pick us up when we fall, keep us steady when we are tired, and rebuild the bit of us that was broken when the trust was broken. If there ever was anyone you could trust with your everything, it's God.

Story of Konowa: Part 4: Authenticity and Hearts.

I know I have said it before, but sometimes things stick out at me and make me think on it. Tonight was a little phrase on the Tin Soldiers Facebook page.

"Authenticity is impossible without vulnerability."

I have very often been called a good friend, best friend, whatever friend, but they are all the same, I am the best friend I can be to everyone. I do care about people even though I say all the time how much I hate them. Even when I dislike them, I want them to be happy and comfortable with me. I want to show them, even if I may dislike you, I still care. That sounds really funny when I read it back. But it is true.

If I had a wish, I would wish for everyone to be happy and friendly. I recently started talking to a good very dear friend of mine. I have mentioned her before, and I still care greatly for her. It was so very nice to talk to her the other night. I am so very happy she is happy were she is and happy with her boyfriend.

I want to be known as being authentically me. In games I go by other names, most often it's Cayel. But even when I don the moniker, I am still me through and through. I hate when people put on a facade. They are friendly and nice to your face, but then when you turn around, they start spouting mean things and verbally stab you in the back. And I can see this all the time.

The saying above is true, I put myself out to my friends farther than most people ever would think to go. I open up and become vulnerable to them. I suppose that is why I develop feelings for some of them. When I open up and so do they, and we mesh and get along so well, its hard not to. I see it as a bit of a problem, but I would rather that than be so closed off I never get hurt.

But where we can do this with our friends and family, we so very often have a hard time doing it with God. Why? God already knows us better than anyone ever could. He knows your very dreams and wants nothing more than to share those with you. Yet we keep him closed off, in our hearts, yes, but not in the part that we show the world.

My little bit of anatomy that I know, our hearts have four chambers. What if our metaphorical hearts also have four chambers. We could have a chamber to show the world, a chamber to show our friends, one to show our family and one for ourselves. Where does God fit in? God really should be the nerve that runs down the center of our heart. What nerve? Well glad you asked.

From Howstuffworks.com

A few months back, one of my co-workers was studying for his EMT classes. He had a physiology book and we were looking through it one night at work, yes, instead of working.  There is a group of cells in the heart that are able to generate electricity on their own. It is called the SA Node. It sends the electrical impulses to the right and left atria, causing them to contract together. Then there is a delay to allow the atria to contract and the ventricles to fill with blood. The electrical impulse continues to travel to the AV node, though the Bundle of His, then it splits into the right and left bundle branches where it rapidly spreads using Purkinje fibers to the muscles of the right and left ventricle, causing them to contract at the same time.

Ok, sorry for the in depth health class there. But you see how this stuff is so amazing?! I don't know what all that means, but I know it is awesome. So if God was that group of cells and nerves that ran the length of your heart and kept it beating 72 times a minute, imagine how much intimacy he has with our hearts.

God would be directly giving energy to each chamber, God would be the center of your world, your friends, your family and you. Isn't that where he should be anyways? God is the power to keep you alive, without you ever having to do anything to stay that way.

Yes yes, there are probably things that can go wrong with that nerve, creating irregular heart beats, heart attacks and whatever, but with God, it works flawlessly day after day, year after year, until God sweeps you into his arms and takes you to be with him. If we let God be that nerve and cells, and let him control each part of our lives, we would open the vulnerability to him as we should. We would still hurt when someone close hurts us, but God would be right there, making sure you keep going, you have the strength to take that next step, then the next and the next.

If you want to be you, be the truest you that you can be, the authentic you, then you have to open yourself to God, you have to become vulnerable to Him and His will for you. Philippians 4:13 says it the best. Below is from the Amplified Bible. I like this version sometimes because it gives other meanings of the words that were used.

13 I have strength for all things in Christ Who empowers me [I am ready for anything and equal to anything through Him Who infuses inner strength into me; I am self-sufficient in Christ’s sufficiency].

I love the last part, I am self-sufficient in Christ's sufficiency. That is so beautiful to me. There is only way to be like that, open your heart to God, become vulnerable to him. It is very hard to do. I mean, God, the creator of everything, who can measure the universe in the palm of his hand, is so big, and we are so small, how could He ever love us. We know he loved us so much that He sent His only son Jesus, who is himself God, to save us from the evil that we brought upon ourselves. That is a lot of love there. It might be even harder for us being so small, to be able to love someone so big. But if we want to be happy, be ourselves and be authentic, then being that vulnerable is the only thing we have.

I hadn't intended to have another follow up to The Story of Konowa, but God put this out there for me to write, so I did. It is so important to be who we are. The world tells us we are not allowed to be who we are sometimes, but God tells us otherwise. I like the idea of being authentic. I like being me. I love the idea and the fact that God loves us being authentic and ourselves. So I guess I will end in a short prayer. I normally don't write any prayers but this just came, actually wrote it before I wrote this part. I think this one needed to end this way. Thanks for reading!


I want to be more vulnerable to you, God. I want to be authentic and real. I want my friends and who ever may read this blog, to know you more deeply and be truly themselves for you. Lord, I pray that you empower my heart with your will, let me beat day after day for you. Let your spirit be the blood that feeds my body. Lord you are the SA node, the AV node, the Bundle of His, and the fibers, you give the spark of life to my heart. Lord, let my heart be like your Son, giving and sustaining my life so that I can show the world You. May you be the center of my four chambered heart and the center of everything that I do. To you Lord, be all glory and honor forever and ever. Amen.

Story of Konowa: Part 3

Being able to be someone else for a short time is so amazing and free. But I found that that feeling only lasts for a short time. Eventually you have to come back to the real world, and back to your life. So many people, me included, think "If only I could go away and become someone else, I would be happier." We all have a desire to be who we want to be, and be free.

People are searching for this their whole lives. They work hard to make a name for themselves, lose themselves in books, games, or whatever they can. We work hard to be happy and some of us even push others down to make ourselves happier. It seems to be the struggle of the era. One we will all fall prey to over and over again.

But what if I told you that you really don't have to work hard for it. What if you could be exactly who you want to be without any effort at all. When I was playing WoW for hours and hours a day, I slowly began to lose myself by trying to be someone else. I kept searching hard for who I thought I was without ever looking at who I really was. Then I finally realized the truth. It was something that had actually freed me years ago. 

I was a Christian. I was already free to be who I am. In fact, God wants us to be exactly who we are. He made us to be this way and he made us to be companions. When I started writing this, lyrics to one of my favorite bands popped into my head. Showbread wrote a two ablums, released at the same time, one was called Anorexia, the other Nervosa. They tell a story that compliments each other but have an amazing message within them. At the end of the Nervosa album, Nervosa, lying broken and dying within her deep hole she has dug, wakes in a sunlit field and finds that she has been carried to safety by a small lamb who died in the process of rescuing her. The lamb however, resurrects and explains that he had given his life to save Nervosa simply to fulfill his lifelong desire to be with her.

"I have been with you all along, you have not noticed me.' 
Nervosa now felt more ashamed than ever before. 
'Why would you still care enough to save me 
even after seeing the horrible things I have done? 
Why do you remain here even now?' She asked, sobbing. 
'Because, here is where you are,' the Lamb said softly, 
'And I long to be with you.'' 

This is the story of Christ and what he has done for us. He wants to be with us, just as we are, because it has always been his desire from the beginning of time. Jesus is the truth that truly sets us free. We are free to be ourselves, to laugh more, and to be happier more. I know I have said this before, but when I started to actually want to learn more about God, and to do what he wants, I became a happier, better person.

In World of Warcraft, I had crafted a person who was not perfect, he had flaws and he died. He was a mirror of real life even though I wanted him to be something completely different. He was still me, still broken and I was still not happy.

Caly and Kon standing in a beam of light in front of a full moon.

I now look back and I see me in Konowa. He was the best of me as well as the worst of me, written out for everyone to be able to read. His actions were my thoughts. He did what I wanted to do, but could not. Now I can look at him and see that that is not me anymore. I found who I was inside. I like this me a lot more than the old me. Konowa still exists, but his evil deeds, the murder, the blood lust, the lies, the brokenness has been washed away.

Through Christ, I am new. I am a better me until I my faith becomes site, and I am made into the perfect me. I am human. I will fall again, but it has already been forgiven. I can now always be myself, because that's just who I am. Sometimes I am an ass, sometimes I am prince charming, sometimes I am a coward, and sometimes I am a superhero, but I am always me.

It is my prayer, that if you are reading this and don't already know Christ and what it is like to be who you are and who you really want to be, that you take a moment to talk to God. It is simple, but the end game is so far beyond anything you can imagine. I am not going to write things you should say, that is for you and God. But be open and honest, because He already knows the real you, after all he made you.

Recommended reading: Start here with the Gospel of John. 

Story of Konowa: Part 2

Much of this story was thought up on the spot when one day Caly and I were sitting in Winterspring. I told her out of character that this would be the place where Kon was from. Soon we got back into characters and the basis of this story was told. The pain my character felt, slowly leaking into me, it made me sad. But as you will read, hopeful too. 

Since then I have back stories to several other characters, though not all written down. I wrote bits of a story for a guild I was in, the story from my perspective. I had a lot of fun, and would love to do something like it again.

Weird thing was I was always comfortable with role playing my character, but when it got into a large group of people, I had a hard time and mostly sat there not talking unless spoken too. Several of the people from the guild helped push me out of that, and more of my characters were able to come out. It was nice to combine a game I loved to play, with my writing that I love so much to do. 

Below is the last part of the story of Konowa. Warning: This section is very violent. It has a lot of senseless violence that is pivotal to the development of the character.

The orc drew a knife with his other hand and made a slice on the boy’s cheek. Konowa’s son cried from the pain but his eyes never left his fathers. The orc made a few more cuts to his son. Then with a quick jab, he stabbed the boy in the stomach, twisting the blade to cause maximum damage. The boy spit up blood and his eyes began to roll. The boy had no strength to scream anymore. As the blood dripped to the ground, his life began to fade. Konowa kept his son’s gaze as long as he could. Finally, the orc threw the dying boy into the burning house behind him.

The boy cried for a short time before the smoke and the fires ended his pain. Konowa could not even find the strength to cry for his son. Then the troll pulled a jagged knife from his belt and held Konowa’s wife by the hair. “Joo will suffer mon, more dan any otha.” Then with a single swipe, the troll sliced his wife’s throat and dropped her in front of him. He watched as the blood ran from her neck staining the ground red. Her eyes held neither fear nor pain. He saw only the love she had for him since they met. He tried to hold onto that love, if only for a little while.

She faded quickly from the living. Konowa felt the last sting of humanity break in him. He let himself go limp, slowly choking his own life away. The orc saw this and walked over. “It is not your time yet. I will decide when it is that you die.” The orc took the bloody knife he used to stab Konowa’s son and cut the robe holding Konowa up. He could feel his binding being cut, but he didn’t have the strength to try to fight.

The orc kicked him a few more times before he issued commands to leave the area. After the soldiers where packed and filled with as much loot as they could carry, the warlord came back to Konowa. “Now you will die. But know this before you do, your wife didn’t even try to fight me.” He then turned his back on the beaten Konowa and walked away.

With what little strength Konowa had left, he got to his feet and charged the warlord. He jumped onto his back and grabbed his head tight. With a single swift twist, Konowa snapped the orcs neck and almost twisted the head off. He grabbed the swords of the warlord and got ready to fight his last fight. The swords in his hand seemed to give him power he hadn’t felt before. He looked down and saw a name etched on the blade of the swords, Bloodrazor. He was carrying twin swords, swords that had a thirst for blood.

He moved swiftly into the group of orcs and began to slice through them. He felt a swelling inside him, none like he had ever felt. The feeling was wonderful. In what felt like a few seconds, the orcs were dead and all that stood before Konowa now was the one troll.

“What joo thinken mon. Want ta try dis?” The orc twirled a sword in each hand. Konowa stepped forward swinging his sword at the troll. He was quick. The troll rolled to the side and swiped at Konowa. Konowa dodged nicely and struck at the troll. The troll parried and spun. Stepping in, he hit Konowa hard in the back with the pommel of the sword. Konowa fell forward as he fell he spun slicing the troll’s thigh leaving a large wound pouring blood down the troll’s leg. The troll fell to the ground.

Konowa got up and walked over to the troll. He looked down at the troll. As the troll moved for a weapon, Konowa swiped with his sword and took the hand from the troll. “You took all that I had, as you said you would. Now know this, I will hunt down everyone of your family. Until there is nothing of your blood left in the troll race. When I find that troll that was special to you, and I will find her, I will slowly kill her and tell her that this was a present, with love, from you.” Konowa then sliced a single wound open on the troll’s chest and a single slice at the back of the troll’s foot. Konowa then turned and walked away. The wound wouldn't kill the troll, it was only meant to hurt, but the slow loss of blood from the hand will. His death would be long and painful.

Konowa went into the fire and removed his son’s body. He turned over a cart and placed his son and his wife beside each other. He kissed them both for the last time and lit the cart on fire. He turned around and began walking away, absently rubbing the forth finger on his left hand. Fires had burned the ring into his finger. He would be left with a scar in place of his wedding band.

Konowa left Winterspring that day with two new swords and nothing left to loose. He worked his way back to Darkshore and then headed to Stormwind. He found a place to stay and began to take on jobs killing any horde he could. Konowa became a mercenary and he was good. He made himself a name among the seedy side of the Alliance. He was the go to man now.

Years passed. Konowa had become such a hard man that if he ran into one of his old friends, they did not even know it was him. The joy and love in his eyes were replaced with death. He had managed to find the troll’s family, neatly settled in a small town south of Orgrimmar. He did exactly as he said he would. The slow deaths of the troll’s wife and children did not bring Konowa any comfort or peace. He felt nothing when it was done. Just another troll family dead. A few less soldiers for the Horde.

One afternoon, Konowa heard about an offer that he couldn't pass up. Head to Northrend with Prince Arthas in search of Mal’ganis. The amount for a 6-month trip into Northrend was too good to pass up. He gathered what he might need and headed to Stormwind Harbor to sign up. In a day, he was on his way north.

When Arthas betrayed his men on the shores south of Wintergarde Keep, Konowa was among the ones that felt that bitter pain. As Konowa laid breathing heavily on the ground, Arthas stepped over him. Konowa grabbed his leg. “Why…” he said hoarsely. “Why would you betray your own men?”

Arthas looked down at the dying Konowa, “The Scourge must be stopped. At all cost.” Konowa’s sight began to get hazy. He could feel his lungs filling with his own blood. Konowa died with a soft cough, alone on the shores of Northrend.

The darkness was all around him. It was not a comforting darkness, nor was it a terrifying one. It was just there. He was just there. He felt something pulling him forcing him out of the darkness. A violent hand scratching and pulling him down. It was cold fingers digging into his soul. A pestilence creeping into the wounds. Blood dripping into the darkness.

Konowa awoke in a dark ziggurat chained to a cold stone table. He felt the cold but it did not bother him. He tried to look around but his sight was still blurry. In the distance, he could hear a cold voice calling orders.

Konowa was released from the bindings and was given some clothes to put on. His robes hung loosely on him. He then was summoned by his new master. Konowa knelt before the Lich King. As the Lich King spoke, Konowa could hear his voice in his head. His every command was a pleasure to comply with.

Time passed and the Death Knights won their freedom from the Lich King. Bringing Konowa’s own voice back into his head. Konowa wondered around the lands trying to find a way to fit in. He remembered little of his time before his death. He eventually found a hovel with a few mercenaries in it. He talked to them and found a place with them. Though they let him in, they were weary of him. They knew too, the atrocities that the Lich King and his Death Knights had done.

Soon after joining them, he began to remember his past life. The way he used to kill. He remembered the joy he felt when he would remove the head of an orc. He soon found that he was even better as a Death Knight than he was when he was alive. He found he enjoyed it more.

One day he was ridding hard toward a small Horde village he happened upon a beautiful woman walking along the road. She had her long white hair falling around her shoulders. She walked as if she feared nothing. He looked down at her as he rode by; she smiled at him. Her smile was beautiful and sincere. He was unprepared for a smile like this. As he turned to look at her behind him, a low branch caught him and he crashed to the ground.

The woman ran over to him quietly laughing. “Are you OK?” she said as she reached down to help him up. “That was quite the fall you had.”

“I’m fine.” Konowa said as he picked himself up. He was angry with himself but he was also embarrassed. He turned to look at her. Her eyes were shinning with a radiance he hadn't seen in a very long time. He tried to speak but he could not find the words. He opened his mouth to speak several times but every time he said nothing.

“I’m Calypsio, nice to meet you,” she said smiling at him.

“I’m Konowa.”

Konowa and Calypsio in Winterspring.

What follows is a different story. What follows is not the story of Konowa anymore, but of Konowa and Calypsio. And that story, my friends, is for another time.

Story of Konowa: Part 1

When I first got into World of Warcraft, it was because of my friend Adam. He played for a long time before me, and had many friends spread across many servers. He brought one friend over to play with me, I first knew her as ScarletDawn. Soon, however, I would know her as Calypsio. She and I played closely for months, waking up early, staying up late, having a great and wonderful time.

Eventually I followed her to one of her main servers to play with her there. I created a Death Knight so I wouldn't be so far behind her in levels, and we continued to play months more. The realm we were on was a role playing one. Most people on there had whole stories of their characters, I would be no different. 

ScarletDawn with her cat, DarkestHour

I liked the fact that I could make a character and actually live his life, to a point, every day I played. Though he didn't become my main, he was the first to have a whole story. His name was Konowa. A name I had used previously on a hunter, which I took from the fantastic series, The Iron Elves. I even started a guild where I wanted to role play my own version of the series. 

Konowa had a whole life, which was brought to an end against his will and then a new one was forced upon him. I wrote this thinking about how I might send it into a Blizzard writing contest, but I didn't. I kept it for myself and only let a few people read it. 

This was one of the biggest parts of my WoW experience. Being someone else for a short time, and escape to get my mind off the day and, for me, start fresh each day. Below I am going to share part of that story with you. Because of the size, I am going to split it up into two parts. I hope you enjoy the first part. Warning: It does contain a large amount of fighting.

The snow fell softly on the house as Konowa walked out and headed to the logging camp. He had a small home in the woods in the northern part of Winterspring where he lived with his wife. They had moved there just after getting married and they loved it. Konowa was a lumberjack by trade and worked for a logging company. His job was to cut the trees down so that other could cut them up and ship them out. He enjoyed the job, as he did not have to deal with the nonsense of the cities.

His wife was the most beautiful person he had known. Her hair was long and she kept it back in a loose braid when she worked around the house. She had her work cut out for her as she got the whole house ready for the birth of their baby.

The months flew by and the day came that Konowa met his son for the first time. He had run miles to get home just in time to hear his wife begin to cry as she held their newborn son. Smiling, he sat down on the bed and slid close to his wife. She was hot and sweat was dripping down her and she looked a bit like hell, but at that moment, she was gorgeous and glowing so brightly that he thought his heart might burst with happiness.

I simply love Winterspring. I find the whole zone so peaceful.

The years passed much to fast but soon his son was a boy. He began to get interested in his fathers work. Some days when mom was not looking he would sneak off and run to the logging camp to find his dad, who was always working hard to cut a tree down. The boy smiled as he watched his father work. Konowa had seen his son come into the camp but he had a deadline to meet and had to get this tree down. The boy walked closer to where Konowa was and began to talk about all the nonsense that children talk about. It warmed Konowa’s heart when the boy would say “Daddy, when I grow up I want to cut trees like you.”

Konowa would go home each day and have a dinner with his wife. When they finished, Konowa would tell stories of the ancient elves that fought great evil long ago. He would tell stories of brave warriors that would face the horde and keep the Night Elves safe.

Sometimes the boy would ask questions about the warriors. “Daddy, why don’t you fight the horde?”

“Because son,” Konowa said as he smiled down at his son. “Each of us has a roll to do in the greater war. Some men are called to fight while others are called to help. I have been called to help. Without the wood from these trees, we could not rebuild homes, build defenses around our towns, or make weapons to defend ourselves. With out the trees that we cut here, the horde would surely overrun us.”

Every night, Konowa would pick his son up, give him a tight hug, and place him into his bed. He would say prayers with his son and then tuck him into bed. As he stood up, he would kiss him on the forehead and rustle his hair. Then Konowa’s wife would come in, kiss him good night and blow out the candle near the bed. Konowa would hold his wife’s hand as they walked out of the room and closed the door. They never closed the door all the way, because at least once a night his wife would sneak by the door and peak in on her son.

One day when Konowa was hard at work on the far side of Winterspring, he heard some men talking softly while they looked west toward the town. Konowa turned to yell at them to get working when he noticed a slight darkness in the sky. He watched for a few minutes until he realized what it was. He threw his saw down and grabbed a pair of axes out of a stump. Then men looked at him and it took them a moment more to realize that haze was smoke. The village was on fire.

He jumped on the back of one of the carthorses, rode hard, and fast toward the village. As he got closer, he could hear the sounds of screaming and crying, sounds of steel against steal and the war cries of the horde. Konowa ran past the village proper and ran toward his home. Dismounting when he got close, he ran toward a group of orcs throwing burning torches onto his house.

With no form to his hacks, Konowa began to chop at the orcs as if they were trees. Konowa’s muscles were tuned for hard hits. In a single stroke, he cut arms off, severed legs and spilled the guts of his enemies. As he was fighting hard against the orcs, he heard his wife calling for help. Her screams were full of fear and she coughed hard from the smoke. Konowa dodged the best he could but the orcs were many. In a flurry of wild swings, he managed to clear a path to his house.

Konowa was covered in orc blood as he dropped the axes and ran into the fire. He first grabbed his son and pulled him out of the house. Making sure there were no orcs out here, he ran back in and pulled his wife from the flames. As he exited the house, he saw his son in the arms of a powerful looking warlord. Konowa gently set his wife down against a tipped over cart and grabbed his axes.

Konowa charged the horde general. The orc tossed his son to the side and laughed as his swings missed. The orc threw a kick that hit Konowa in the back and he stumbled but did not fall. He turned and began to hack at the orc. Each swing the orc sidestepped or dodged. The orc threw an armored fist and hit Konowa hard in the side of the head. He fell hard to the ground. His vision began to blur and he could feel the blood dripping down his neck from his ear.

Konowa tried to stand up but the orc threw a kick hard into his ribs. The orc laughed as Konowa was sent flying back. He tried to stand again as the orc shot an arrow into his arm and he fell to the ground again. The warlord walked over to Konowa and, with one hand, picked him up from the ground. He leaned in close and whispered something in Konowa’s ear.

Konowa tired to throw a punch but the orc was faster and hit Konowa hard in the face with his head. Konowa could feel his nose collapse and the blood flow freely. He could no longer focus on anything. The orc warlord laughed again and pulled Konowa close. He whispered in his ear again, this time in a very rough and accented common. As Konowa’s head began to dip, the orc smiled at Konowa and threw him hard several feet back. Konowa’s world went black.

Flying over Winterspring.

When Konowa woke up, he was on his knees tied to a pole. The ropes were tight around his wrists, which were tied behind his back. His arms were tied tight against him, and he was leaning forward with two ropes tied around his neck. One rope was tied to the pole to choke him if he leaned forward too much and the other was tied to the ground in front of him so he could not lean back.

He heard the orcs laughing and a child crying. As Konowa sight came into focus, he looked to see his son, badly beaten and crying in a small ball. He saw his wife weeping silently and lying still a few yards to his right. Her clothes were torn and she had blood covering her. Konowa’s heart broke when he saw his family.

The orc warlord walked over to Konowa accompanied by a troll dressed in war paint. The troll looked down at Konowa and said something to the orc. Konowa hated not knowing what they were saying. He looked over to his wife and a fire lit inside him. He began to struggle to break free of the bonds. The troll laughed and smacked Konowa hard. He then walked over to Konowa’s wife.

Konowa could feel his one eye swollen from the beatings, but when he looked at his wife, his sight was clear. The troll picked her up by the hair and tossed her to the ground closer to Konowa. The orc picked up Konowa’s son by the neck. The boy struggled and kicked but there was nothing he could do to make the orc let go. The orc looked at Konowa and said in his rough voice, “I will make you watch them die. I will take all that you know and burn it to the ground.”

The Great C'Thulhu Conspiracy

C'Thulhu. Everyone has seen the name, some people know it more intimately. I imagine some people may even fear the coming of the Great Old Ones. But I think it is just a name, but a might cool one. I have tried to research the name, but it seems Lovecraft made the name up.

But I was looking things up over on etymonline.com the other day, and I decided to look up the word catholic. I knew it meant universal, but I wondered where it actually came from. Here it is.

catholic (adj.) 

mid-14c., "of the doctrines of the ancient Church," literally "universally accepted," from French catholique, from Church Latin catholicus "universal, general," from Greek katholikos, from phrase kath' holou "on the whole, in general," from kata "about" + genitive of holos "whole" (see safe (adj.)). Applied to the Church in Rome c.1554, after the Reformation began. General sense of "of interest to all, universal" is from 1550s.

I was reading that and when I came to the word Kath'holou I paused.  Could it be? Did Lovecraft name his old god after the church.. What if it is really a secret from as far back as the mid 14th century or even later? C'thulhu, in general, on the whole, an elder god.

I think it is no denying it, C'thulhu and the Catholic church have very much in common. Both sleep endlessly, and when they do awaken, the whole world is in trouble. Both have their secret societies and powers that be running them.

Since I came across this discovery, I have been scouring the internet and libraries for more references and clues, but I soon discovered a dark and terrible underworld that runs like veins through our way of life. It has been a long time since I began researching this, and I want to share what I have learned so far.

People say the Illuminati run the world, or the Masons, or the Templars, or whoever you want to pick. The whole of this world is secretly run by Great Old Ones. They have secretly clawed their way into every dark part of our society and even now are controlling what we write and say. They control what we see on TV and what the news is reporting. They are everywhere.

That is what worries me about posting this. They may read this and know that I am catching on. They may send the authorities to arrest me or worse, I may disappear. But if the world is kept unaware for much longer, we may never be able to win our freedom.

I send this message out to the internets, beware the coming of C'thulhu. The threat is real,  the prophets spoke truth. It was an amazing job they did to cover up what Lovecraft had written. Label it as fiction and fantasy. Push the madness aspect beyond what it really is so it all sounds made up. Lovecraft was right. He learned first hand.

Just the past week, I had been contacted by a man who began talking about what I was piecing together already. At first I was skeptical, but the more he talked, the more I realized he was right. The resistance is bigger than I would have thought. We are growing every day. Now it is your turn to join. Speak up and we will find you.

Stand against the rising. We still have time to end what they have begun. Do it for humanity, for your children, and our future. Let us put an end to the corruption and lies. Our resistance has already begun.

Guns Don't Kill

I recently bought a gun. I have never owned, nor even shot a gun. Honestly I am not sure I have even been around a gun being shot outside of a few BB guns when I was a kid. We looked at several guns  and decided that a .22 would be a good learning gun. For some reason we never really wanted a gun as I was growing up, but we now feel it is not a bad item to own.

We looked at a few of the .22 hand guns and finally decided on getting the Ruger SR22. It had some of the best reviews in the caliber and was on sale which put it right into the range of my pocket.

My gun. Picture courtesy of Ruger.com

We bought a few rounds of ammo, and began to learn about gun safety and proper usage. I wanted to just take the gun and begin shooting. So many years of playing video games and watching movies I knew all I needed to know. Turns out they do teach you a lot of it, but not all. I learned a bit more, talked to people who have shot for a while, even talked to people from the military. I feel confident I will not shoot my toes off nor anyone's face. Well, I still might do the last, but at least it will be with confidence and in self-defense. (This is a complete joke, anyone that knows me, I am an angry pacifist (quick to anger but I hate to fight) but I realize the need for means of defense of my family, friends, myself and the liberties our ancestors fought so hard for.)

I am proud to be among the owners of guns. When I look at the gun, I smile. It is small, but it feels nice in my hands, and in a way, is a beautiful piece of equipment. When I am holding it, I feel.... different. I do not know the words I should use, but there is a difference I feel. As I get older, I believe all people should learn to use guns. Each family should own at least one and be taught respect and responsibility. But that will never happen because there are people that think guns are not safe. Those are also probably the people who think it is wrong to discipline their children, but I am not writing this to complain about things, or say who is wrong or right, frankly I don't care about their opinions on guns since that is THEIR opinion and they are entitled to it. (As long as they acknowledge that I am entitled to my own as well.)

I asked my friend to describe how he feels while holding a gun, he told me:

"Honestly I view a gun as a tool, so helpful would be my words of choice."

Greg is a Marine and a good friend. I think his helpful comment is a very good way to describe it. Guns are tools and I think any actual tool, hammer, screwdriver, saw, car, muscles, even nail clippers, when given to someone who would will harm on others, can be a weapon. I do not view owning a gun as owning a weapon, it is a tool like any other. Carpenters use their hammers for a living, the military uses guns for a living. They are tools, when used in the proper manner, can build us the amazing world we live in. When used wrong, they bring us untold amounts of pain. I will not go into what is right and wrong. That is outside of the scope of the blog. I just wanted to talk about my excitement at buying a gun.

I am looking forward to the learning of using the gun as a tool to keep everything I hold dear safe. Guns are such a hot topic right now but I just wanted to talk about the excitement involved with them as well. I look forward to buying more of them, different styles and sizes and learning them as well.

I am going to end this blog here, because my mind is beginning to wander into freedom and what that means to me and what so many are displaying as what it means to them. So thanks for reading.

Regrets and the End

Regrets are something we all have. Some may be small things that we never think of and others may alter the course of our lives. I know I have many and I keep, despite my best efforts, making more of them.

I had a customer at work tell me about his father. His father, he said, lived with no regrets. He would be playing poker with his buddies, have a cigarette in one hand, a cigar in  the other, a beer on the table next to a shot of whiskey and if someone had a joint, he would take a hit of that. I guess that is living to some people. Though I feel that is a bit of a waste.

I have a friend who goes on missions trips. She goes on them a lot and is always thinking up the next one. I don't know really what she does, but I think she has helped build  homes before and other helpful things of the sort. I guess that is a regret I can fix, I'll have to ask her exactly what she does. I think her way of living is living much fuller.

She is a Christian, and she is doing the trips and the missions work for God, but I have a feeling she would still do it even if she wasn't. She is a very nice person. I would love to look back at the things I didn't do and not think of them as regrets, but as something I passed up on for something even better.

Like I said, I have a lot of regrets, some that have changed my life, some that I don't even think on unless I am trying to think of regrets. But I have to thank God every day for where I am in life. I am happy. I haven't been happy in the state of my life for a rather long time. I used to feel depressed and miserable all the time. I felt like the world hated me, my friends were only friends to my face, and I was doomed to spend my life as one of those long haired nerds living in their parents basement. (Mind you, I do not have a problem with that, I know a few who are rather awesome.)

But recently I have been becoming more and more happy. The depression still kicks in from time to time, but it doesn't feel like I am being pushed into the ground by it. I find myself wanting to get up and go do things more. (Sadly that also means wanting to spend more money... I guess I have to work on that.) The weight of the depression has been lifted and I find the world to be full of idiots still, but its a world I wouldn't mind seeing more of. (As long as there aren't too many idiots in my way.)

I have to contribute it all to my refreshed searching of God. I want to learn everything I can about him. I want to know how he created things, what ways he uses to keep everything in a livable working fashion, and to be able to do what he wants done. This does not make me a weak-minded moron, a peon who should be looked down on. This makes me a strong-minded person who wants to know more about the universe, science and God. I want to see how the universe works, and bask in the knowledge that the Star-Breather, created such an intricate universe for us to lose ourselves to wonder in. (Star-Breather is a name I like to call God because it is what he did. Whether the universe is billions of years or younger or older, God still spoke it into creation. I also like to borrow a name from the Viking mythos, All-Father. For he is the father of all things.)

God has changed me on the inside. The only regret I have: That I didn't turn fully into His arms years ago. I can make up for that with the decades I have left to praise him here. I do believe God can and will make all things better, but the person needs to be willing to stop and listen. When I am on my deathbed, I hope my only thought will be "Well God, I have no regrets for my life lived for you. Here I come to see you face to face, This will be awesome."