Heroes versus Heroic Acts

          My mother is in the midst of organizing a half and full marathon. The race is tomorrow. Tomorrow. Yeah. My very maniacal mother just started up Northwest runners in the cold, period (Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Redimon, Ingol, Thalite, Clise, and Pluto). Yes, I am just hiding away with my computer, avoiding being put to work.

          Despite the whole race-day-is-tomorrow thing, I’ve found time today to read and draw. I can’t draw well. Okay, so I can’t even draw a proper stickman. But I found this thing where you make letters into artsy letters. Hearts are dangling, vines are wrapping, and frost has hit letters (I think there was a grammatical error in that sentence somewhere…). So, I may have copied it from a book. I’m still immensely proud.

          Okay. You caught me. I have no idea where I’m going with this whole thing. The point is… I have none.

          Ahah! That is my point!

          I’ve been reading that book about heroes again. What it says is so true. If we have no heroes, what are we striving for? I myself look up to certain (usually dead) authors, Biblical figures (who are also dead), and one particular (dead) Christian. Oh, and some historical figures (Yes, they’re dead as well. Let’s face it, I like dead people.). They stand (and stood) for what I believe in and what I want to become. To persevere like Job, to write like CS Lewis, to never be sick again, like those in heaven… Yes, I am sick, and yes, it is the norm. When I am not sick is when I wear matching socks (AKA, once a year, plus in soccer every now and then). I’ve always been the sick and injury prone child. Also, I get hurt much easier than my made-of-rubber-she-was-pushed-off-the-porch-four-times-by-me-and-didn’t-bruise sister (but I was on the other side of a thick door! So I may have been a plotting child… There was no proof it was on purpose!). She was also the tannest toddler you could ever see, but that’s something else entirely. Now where was I?

          (As a little tangent my head went off in, if I ever say, “I see the Ood,” it’s safe to say I’m about to die. Think it the equivalent of, “I see the Light.”)

          Of course, I thought instantly of those I would classify as “hero.” For so many, it’s the person. The person does one thing somewhat out of the ordinary, and suddenly they’re seen as a hero. There is almost no such thing as a hero to me (almost), but there are certainly heroic acts. I don’t just mean some guys saving a litter of kittens from a burning building. It counts, of course. I mean people like Joseph and Mary. They were scorned, but they pushed past what the world thought. Joseph stayed with Mary because even though the child wasn’t his own, he knew the truth and didn’t let what others thought change his mind. And even their story is extreme. What about the person who lives for God? The one who isn’t well known? They’re life is heroic because it is lived out with a purpose that I admire.

          The reason I had to separate “hero” and “heroic acts” is because there are people who do one good thing, and then turn their life in the opposite direction, yet people will follow their “hero’s” lead, because “that person is a good person.” It makes me disgusted, quite frankly. Morality only goes so far in a single person. Humans are sinful creatures. Little kids are going around idolizing Disney channel stars, who, in their shows, show superiority over their silly parents, lying without repercussions, and so on. And that’s only fictional life. Their real lives can often be found to be so much worse! “Look, Mommy! That girl saved a bird! I want to be just like her!” And how did she save a bird? By putting it in danger in the first place, upsetting countless people, and sneaking out of the house.

          If it’s the person’s life you’re dubbing “hero,” it will only be so long before you’re let down. If the person isn’t consistent, they had best be smiled on for their “heroic acts.” One person who I greatly admire was at one point Wiccan. And yet she is one of the few I have given the name “hero.” I’m not looking at her life; I’m looking at what she did with it.

          P.S. I really hope you understood all that. It almost appeared that I went back on what I said, but I can assure you that I did not. I just had no other ways of putting it coming to mind.

          “The characteristic of genuine heroism is its persistency. All men have wandering impulses, fits and starts of generosity. But when you have resolved to be great, abide by yourself, and do not try to reconcile yourself with the world. The heroic cannot be common, nor the common heroic.”-Ralph Waldo Emerson

“A boy doesn't have to go to war to be a hero; he can say he doesn't like pie when he sees there isn't enough to go around.” -Edgar Watson Howe

Recognition and Clarity on Christmas Eve

          It’s Christmas Eve. I’ve spent the day cleaning. (I may have also put some effort into dodging the nastier work…) It’s been a busy few days, what with preparing the house for company, Christmas, lists upon lists, and my dad’s surgery (which went well, but he is in pain. Prayers would be nice.).

          I have a couple of things I would like to bring up. The first hit me hard today. The thing is, I can’t bake (or cook) and when I clean, things tend to get worse. It’s not that I don’t try. I do! I may not enjoy it, and my body may (will) react like I have the flu when I clean, even when I’m having fun organizing (I prefer details), but I do try. However, a standard is only a standard for a single person. I think mine is lower than the rest of my family’s in certain aspects…

          My poor sister was cursed with the abilities to cook, bake, wrap gifts (No, I can’t even do that properly), and clean with ease (although she doesn’t enjoy the last, per say). It’s safe to say she’s had to do more than me, although the effort could be debated which leads me to paragraph four!

          It’s not my fault that my body overheats, gets exhausted, (and when I use actual cleaners) tears up and acts like I have a bad cold. It’s not my fault that the sound of a vacuum cleaner is almost comparable to nails down a chalkboard. It’s not my fault that I can’t make macaroni and cheese without dehydrating or making a soup of it (with the exact same recipe, thank you very much. And yes, from a box…). It’s not my fault that I can’t wrap a present without it looking like it was mobbed by a cat (and half actually are)! Why? Because I try! I really do! In fact, I may very well be putting more effort in because I am not naturally talented.

          Oh, effort. I wish my family could understand that. There is a difference between the amount of work and the amount of effort. My sister could get three things done in the time it takes me to finish one. I wish I could have talked her into wrapping her own presents…

          Because of this difference, there is also a closely related difference between a compliment and recognition. I abhor compliments. They’re only given to people who do something well according to a standard. That stupid standard… I get compliments with piano, soccer, and my writing. According to that standard, I must be something! I get compliments. But what really irks me is that while everyone will compliment me (I’m a goal keeper in soccer) on what they believe was a spectacular save, I only had to move a step to the left and catch the ball that flew straight into my hands. And some of the things that I pride myself on the most, no one notices. Yeah? You think that was normal? Here! You catch it! Basically, I’m saying that the things I get compliments most in, I am moderately good at. I’ll never be complimented on the cleanness of my room. At the most, I’ll get recognition.

          Oh, recognition. I have missed you. It’s a hard thing to attain. The fact that I can feed myself is a great achievement deserving of recognition. Yet, I’ll never get that. Ever. I only just figured out how to properly slice a piece of cheese the other month. In all honesty, that may have been a bigger thing than the 6 or so thousand words I wrote all in one day. Who am I kidding, it was! I guess I’m just annoyed that while my sister has gotten compliments of praise in the past couple days, I haven’t gotten so much as a, “Oh. Something looks different (And by different, I mean better, not worse, because I have gotten that.).” We do the same amount of work! Ugh.

          I’ve accumulated a great many more books these past few days. As such, I’ve had to go trhough the new ones, and decide which to put on my “Read Immediately” list. I have five nonfictions, as they are a bit more important right now, plus five CS Lewis books (not the children ones either) that I will be getting from the library on Saturday, hopefully. And those last five I am going to try to finish by January 3^rd when school starts back up. I think I’ll barricade myself into my walk-in closet… But these books are amazing. My favorite would have to be Foxes Book of Martyrs just because it has been horribly abused, which included getting run over by my mother’s car. Poor, martyred book. I think the books are interesting. While they are all Christian, none relate to each other in terms of topic. Yet, here I am, using them to accumulate knowledge for a single purpose.

          Oh, these books are giving me emotional breakdowns. Every now and then, I’ve had to set them aside and just stare at the wall for a while. Then I write down what I just went through, of course. I love these emotions I feel, even if they do make my head hurt. I think that these books are giving me what I’ve been praying for for years now. Although, clarity would be nice with all the insight. I guess I thought that when God gave me insight, it would include clarity. So I understand what God wants from me, but… I mean, I always knew what was expected from a Christian, but now I know what’s expected from me in particular. I know it’s hard not to think of them as the same thing. But now, what do I do? Clarity would be wonderful, God. Ephesians 2:10 “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” How do I get there, God? I feel called, but in no particular direction. Now, I am off to read another chapter in one of these five books, and I will probably have another breakdown. Merry Christmas! And a belated happy Festivus!

          Frank Costanza- “Many Christmases ago, I went to buy a doll for my son. I reached for the last one they had, but so did another man. As I rained blows upon him, I realized there had to be another way.”

Cosmo Kramer- “What happened to the doll?”

Frank Costanza- “It was destroyed. But out of that a new holiday was born … a Festivus for the rest of us!”

Cosmo Kramer- “That must've been some kind of doll.”

          (Oh, Seinfeld…)

How God Communicates (With Me)

          It’s ridiculous. It truly is. I am so dense sometimes. I have issues with seeing what is right in front of me all of the time: “I can’t find my keys!”

“Did you check in the angel (an angel bowl thing where I like to put my keys)?”

“Yes!”

The other person comes over to me and glances into the angel. “What’s this then?” they asked, dangling the keys in my face.

See? I have issues. And I run into literal walls, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. It’s a common occurrence.

I always thought it was so ridiculous how much God would have to do just to convince His own people of something! I mean, I would hope that if God spoke to me in a dream, that I would believe it. And then those lucky people weren’t quite sure, so God had to give them signs! I was told that in those days it wasn’t odd at all to ask for a sign. That’s how those people deemed something true. Our culture is different.

But really. Through a dream, or by angels (How terrifying would that be? Because, of course, they look nothing like these prissy things in white gowns and soft wings we call angels.), or by signs. Some people would just know. Humans are so thick. And I’m one of them.

God’s been speaking to me in a way that is unique to every person. Dreams. Music. Books. Feelings, or rather strong pulls and convictions. I always wondered how some people managed to not realize. I mean, God hasn’t sent me an angel telling me I’m pregnant by the Holy Spirit or anything. There haven’t been any burning bushes.

Okay, quick judging me. I don’t believe things just because they pop into my life a lot. If I did, I should have been killed a long ago. But those are just my paranoid thoughts. And apparently, I needed a lot of convincing.

It was the fourteenth of December in the year of 2010. I was reading a book. All of a sudden, I was hit with a conviction. It was overwhelming for about two hours. Then I got used to it. But it was so strong… Adrenaline rushed through me. It was the first time I’ve really cried in a while. I had Pandora (a website where you can listen to music based off of who you choose as the base) playing in the background. A song came up that spoke of the thoughts that had madly swirled through my head. A few nights before that, I had listened to a woman speak about this very thing. A few stories and songs came to mind immediately, including a man’s conviction of the very thing I had just been hit with. Suddenly, I understood his attitude from that day. I’ve been having dreams. Of course I have! Everyone dreams, even if they don’t remember them! But the ones that hit me hardest… I found a notebook today where I had written a dream from about three years ago. God was telling me even then.

I know what I need to do. I don’t know how everything is going to turn out. I’m not sure of anything specific. I just know what God is asking of me, and I’ve accepted. I have willingly said yes. I could always back out. I could always decide that I won’t. And I’m pretty sure that I would never have to. Life is made up of choices, after all. But when people read your eulogy at your funeral, wouldn’t you rather they say how you always did your best? Wouldn’t you rather they said you were a strong, determined person, instead of weakly making comments about how good of a person you were? Compare.

Here lies Joe, a dear husband and father. He will be missed.

Here lies Joe, a strong, devoted Christian who always persevered.

I just wanted to point that out. Personally, while both have nice qualities, the second obviously emits a better quality of the dead man’s life.

Do you understand? But while I may have seen straight through what God was telling me for a long period of time, that doesn’t mean it’s too late. If I give up, then what am I? No, I will persevere. Besides, I do quite enjoy a challenge.

“When you believe in a thing, believe in it all the way, implicitly and unquestionable.” -Walt Disney

The Wall

          Just as a marathoner will ‘run into a wall’ at mile twenty, so in life people will inevitably encounter challenging things to overcome. (Clarification: Every single marathon is 26.2 miles.) I have been challenged by myself to read a large amount of books. In fact, that is what I am now compelled to do. I wonder why I am still writing… The point is that in life, no matter who you are, you will come across so many obstacles! Most of my personal ones are just that, personal, and will be kept that way. However, I would like to discuss some, nonetheless.

          I’ve just begun a book about spiritual battles. There are three enemies for Christians.

1.      The World: Temptation is everywhere, and even though the world appears to be progressing, it is only managing to become more and more evil. I mean, sure, you hear about a new cause every day it seems, but the reality is that basically everything that fuels these (usually) good things is what feeds a much larger amount of sin. Look at it this way; the technology that helps police is what criminals will use to accomplish the crime. Does that make sense? Now, don’t look at me like I know you would if you could. I adore technology. I’m just saying that it and the rest of civilization’s progress lend a greater variety to how to sin.

2.     The Flesh: No matter who we are, we will always be human. Christians have the Holy Spirit to help them overcome our own human sins, but they can still choose not to listen to that guiding voice. It truly is a challenge when you have the urge to scream at someone, but you know that little pull you get to just keep your mouth shut? That’s the Holy Spirit reminding you to be like Christ.

3.     The Devil: This one scares me. I know that I am God’s forever, but to know that someone is always plotting to trip you up… I don’t look at people as role models in general. However, there are groups that I will avoid looking up to all together. If someone is a music artist who is highly publicized, I am almost always disgusted by how they act. I know it’s not always true, but in general… So for me, those famous music figures have a bad image, even if I’ve never heard of them, all because that career has been tarnished by others. While I am destined for heaven, what about those who are not? If I lose my grip on my faith even for a minute, I could ruin the Christian image and lose souls for God. I know I must keep vigilant to avoid such traps.

I feel as though I’ve been through more temptations ever, lately. I’m proud to say that I’ve avoided most. It’s just that as faith grows, so does temptation. I guess it means I’ve been growing stronger, but… “I know God won't give me anything I can't handle; I just wish he didn't trust me so much.” –Mother Teresa. My sentiments exactly.

          I’ve been developing strategies, studying, and other things to be whatever it is I’m meant to be. One of my classes next quarter even happens to be about Western religions. I’m very pleased with all this, but I wish I knew what I’m preparing for. Patience is not my virtue. I’m working on that.

          “We are locked in a battle. This is not a friendly, gentleman's discussion. It is a life and death conflict between the spiritual hosts of wickedness and those who claim the name of Christ.” -Francis A. Schaeffer

          And it’s not like I can lose hope in the battle, when the war has already been won. Chin up and grin, because losing the battle is a choice, not the sure outcome!

True Heroes

          Everyone feels convicted to do something every now and then. To be honest, lately, I’ve been ignoring a great many of them. This isn’t me! I think. This can’t be! When have I ever not done something I’ve felt convicted to do? Alas, the answer is: All the time. When it comes to my life, I can procrastinate more than should be humanly possible! I’m a PROcrastinator (Get it?). However, just because I wait until the day before Christmas to clean my junk yard of a room (Not this year! Hopefully.) does not mean that I procrastinate when it comes to my faith. If I feel the urge to read my Bible, I will do so, even if I open it just to look at one randomly-picked verse. That is why I am so disappointed in myself lately.

          I planned on reading Deuteronomy a couple months ago, one chapter a day. I could handle that. Then- POOF- I forgot. For probably a month and a half, or so, I’ve stalked myself up on all of the books in the house I felt I would like to read (Aside from a few missing ones), I had about fifty. A couple days ago, I came across the first few I had meant to read.

          How could I forget? I forget silly things, like that I’m lactose intolerant (I outgrew it a couple years ago), or where I placed my iPod. I forget important things, like that fact that I’m going away for the weekend to watch my mom run a marathon. I forget what my name is for a few seconds sometimes! But I almost never forget things that pertain to my faith. I’m almost seething at myself for doing such a thing.

          I was cleaning my room of all things when I stumbled (Quite literally) into my closet. I dumped the shirts into a pile, and as I left the walk-in closet, I noticed a book I hadn’t remembered sorting through. Now, I know you’re thinking, How is that monumental? You forgot your name, insipid person! This matters to me. I spent a good hour at the least pouring over those books, deciding which was deemed mandatory reading. I have a good memory for odd things.

           I glimpsed the title and it stopped me in my tracks: True Heroism in a World of Celebrity Counterfeits by Dick Keyes. I still have no idea why, but I felt convicted to move it to the top of my Must Read Immediately book stack on my bed.

          I’m still trying to figure out how it figures into my life. I’m not a parent, nor am I obsessed with the famous. So until I read it, I will just talk about the truth in the title.

          I went Christmas shopping yesterday. In a kid’s toy store, I saw multitudes of inappropriately dressed (and physically impossible) Barbie’s, Justin Bieber, and other teenage “heroes.” In many other stores I saw the Twilight “heroes.” One the radio on the ride home, I heard all about political “heroes.” (As a side note, my sister and I spent a good portion of our time seeking out these so called “heroes” and covered them with more… true heroes, and pajamas.) Apparently, it doesn’t take much to qualify as a hero. For the most part, I was disappointed with what I saw.

          How did my parent’s generation create such horrible heroes? When I was young, I practically idolized the characters from The Lion King and Pippy Longstocking. I loved Big Bird. Now kids adore anything pop culture feeds them and have expectations that their life should resemble that of their idol Hannah Montana.

          Why can’t pop culture teach good morals and publicize the work of unknown heroes (Of course I mean true heroes, but most of them are unknown.)? I just think that people should be more aware of who/what they deem their “hero.” If people were kept well-informed, they would probably reconsider getting their daughter a book series about a girl who doesn’t know which guy she loves, sees no reason to get upset over being stalked, and then decides (foolishly) to live forever on earth. “Someday you will read in the papers that Moody is dead. Don't you believe a word of it. At that moment I shall be more alive than I am now. I was born of the flesh in 1837; I was born of the spirit in 1855. That which is born of the flesh may die. That which is born of the Spirit shall live forever.” -Dwight L. Moody

          I have no witty words or sudden conclusion. I only want to say this; pray that my forgetfulness vanishes and is replaced with heavenly wisdom and a lack of procrastination. Pray that I get something lasting from this book I feel compelled to read. Pray that these people around you will find a hero in someone who deserves the attention.

          “True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost.” -Arthur Ashe

My Green Horizon

          I think that before an author does anything, they should state their intent. Of course, it shouldn’t be obvious in most occasions. This, however, is not one of those occasions. Without knowing my intent, why should you even read this? I know I wouldn’t.

          In this dreary thing known as life, I find hope. I call it my green horizon. I think it’s a different thing for everyone. While I know what mine is, it’s still so vague. I’ll never truly know what it is that drives me until I reach that green horizon.

          My green horizon is what I’ll find in death. Peace. Does that make sense?

          I need to say to all those “open-minded” people reading this, what does “open-minded” even mean? I don’t understand the idea. If you’re open-minded, you accept everything, yet condemn those who stand firm in their beliefs. Wouldn’t it be better to know what you believe and stick with it?

          This leads to why death is my green horizon. I’m a Christian. Apparently, this makes me “close-minded.” With that aside, the knowledge that I possess more than hope, a green horizon, is why I’m so… me. It’s hard to explain. There are a few verses that can say it a lot better than I can. Psalm 62:1-2 “My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from Him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; He is my fortress and I will never be shaken." Psalm 48:14 (My favorite verse at the moment) “For this God is our God for ever and ever; He will be our guide even to the end.” I love knowing that God is always there, making sure I get through everything. His promise of a better future gets me through every day. It relieves a lot of my worries to know that someone else is watching over me, and that everything will end well.

          That is my green horizon.