YWAM

i thought "God equips the called. He doesn't call the equipped."

when no equipment comes my way, i begin to even question if i'm supposed to be out here.

at least i might have something to offer to Amnesty International.

i'll be lobbying reps. for two congresspersons i haven't really been in agreement with. but i am doing this for Darfur, with Amnesty. maybe i can help them.

but i still don't know about YWAM. or Africa.

help.

to be mis-interpreted

sadly, everything can be mis-interpreted.

you could read this as a disconnected trail of thoughts,
as a sign of my own depression,
or as a suicide note.

it is not the latter. probably not the former. maybe the middle?

I believe people do not know how to easily read me. I long to come into face-to-face contact with my lover so that she may truly know everything happening within me, simply by looking into my eyes.

if i say my hometown is Amsterdam, i am not to be questioned. many do not know my allegiances. the hundreds of times i pledged my allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, none of them i take as truth or reality anymore. simply because i feel more that this country is parasiting me, than that it is helping me acheive my dream.

i am too easily distracted here, because of the billions of dollars that are pumped into advertising and TV. I think i shall unplug it for the weekend. I will be alone here for the weekend, so who could it hurt?

i just do not like being assaulted for simple things i say. i do not like being questioned as i try to remain true to myself and the calling i hope is still mine. i have nearly lost a true sense of identity. i feel as though i have too many homes and hearths- thus none. i feel as though i have too many faces and personalities- in fact, none.

i am unaware of Asher. Things i once was, i can no longer identify with nearly as strongly, and even things i love now i feel too distant from. like there is some invisible wall between me and me. between Me and Asher. between Mind and Heart.

And worst of all, I don't know how to fix it.

grip.

i am in Macedonia, OH--right now. i am sitting in a hotel room which i am renting alone for the day, the night, and the morning tomorrow. i spent last night here already and today i have only been in contact with the hostess and waitresses at Denny's across the parking lot.

oh, and with God.

yeah. finally. this was why i came out here. to be alone with God.

and i think all he wants to keep telling me is what he wants from me. I've actually gotten pissed at him already this morning.
pissed because i'm not in Africa yet. i wish i could blame him for my not being there yet. but perhaps i am solely at blame.

it really doesn't matter who's to blame... the point is what he's telling me. and i think he's honestly telling me to be an example of his love. an example of his love in Africa.

i am not at home, and even when i return to Cleveland tonight, i will not be at home. i don't believe i ever really have been.

in speaking with Evon last night, i told her i wanted just one revelation on this retreat. and i think i've gotten it. i think it's more affirmation that Africa is where he wants me... as soon as i can get there.

I want peace in this world. but no matter how few wars there will be in the future... there will never be peace unless my brothers and sisters in Africa can stop going to bed each night with the fear that they won't wake in the morning.

as i put in my prayer journal this morning--

"Hurt me & hold me
Disturb me and wound me.

All I want in this world
is to live & work so that
my grave may read:

'He love and
served others'"


...love God. love people. nothing else matters...

Lamentations

Bitterness is a plague,
And I have been afflicted.

I laughed; I did not weep.
My face gave an appearance of joy,
Not solemnity.

I felt Your Peace swell inside of me,
And I rejoiced;
I gratified myself in it.

I screamed and I danced,
While my heart grew haughty;
And you grew weary of my foolish pride.

Your Presence fled;
My heart singed;
My flesh burned and bled.

And I cried:
"Oh Lord, forgive me for I have sinned."

i am often asked why.

why Africa?
why not just stay here?
there are plenty of people to help here.

Yes there are. but i feel there is little i can do here. i simply do not have the drive to live here anymore.

besides, there is something crucial that i share with most of Africa, I am sure. actually with most of the developing world, probably.

i can't stand the west.

simply put, i am sick of the way i live. it is too much of what i feel i do not need, especially since i know of many of my brothers and sisters who are surviving (or not surviving) on barely scraps, barely a dollar's worth each day.

i feel the only extra things i can justify are my computer and my phone, because they are essential in furthering my work and research for the rest of my life.

i feel i don't even need my bed. maybe a pillow and a blanket, and i am desparate to sell the rest. i will be getting rid of many many of my books, some that i will never ever get to. my life has become far too busy. all the fiction i ever wanted to read i will likely not have time for. so many of these books will be sent off to tons of different people to enjoy, and to possibly hold onto in case i have any intention of ever reading them when i come back from this first trip!

if anyone visits my room anytime soon, and you decide you want something of non-neccesity or non-sentimental-value, then feel free to ask for it. i'm trying to live simpler.

seriously, ask for stuff. you might just get it!

love and peace or else, brothers and sisters!

remind me

remind me, Adonai, why i aim to do what i aim to do. what i am to do. what i do.

Remind me, Father.
Remind me, Allah.
Remind me, YHWH.
Remind me, Abba.

allow me to do what would exult your ultimate love.

remind me to love.

Love.
Love.
Love.
Love.
Love.


remind me to give of my love, as it is a well-spring from your love.

for if i have given all i have, and I HAVE LOVED... then i will die in peace. even if i am killed in the most violent way.

[it has been a blah day thus far. grey winds and dripping faucets in the sky. too much weighing me down. I have been crushed and re-inflated in this moment. there is a new peace. a sort of distant gleaming love that has taken root. a grass-roots flood in my being. brought on by music and the one for whom these lyrics were once written. that one that really truly DESERVES the lyrics. the one who i call out to every moment of each and every day. the reason i do not feel redundant, when i place one foot in front of another. a being far beyond my comprehension. a couselor, comfortor, keeper. a holy being i hardly know but long to understand. though there is no up-graded clarity of direction, i don't fear any man. i don't fear any government. i don't fear any corporation. i don't fear death. i do NOT fear death.]

As long as i have loved, i have not wasted.

Love and Peace.
it will come.
trust me.

[war] metaphore

i hate war metaphore. it is a lame method to get people excited because it invokes images of violence that stimulate the human core. it brings us images of glory. and victory. something like marching up against a huge army is a thing of glory.



but in all reality if you were to draw your sword in the face of a huge army and you began to charge, a lone warrior... it would maybe take one or two well-placed feathered arrows to cut you down. and you'd fall awkwardly, dropping your sword to your side, and be trampled over when the army comes through to rape your women and kidnap your children. they would put up a struggle, just as you did on their behalf, but they'd be the ones to likely get closer to looking into the eyes of the enemy. the ones who had the power to impact their memories of the massacre.

you're not achilles. you're not william wallace. you're not king arthur. you're not the warriors and heroes of old.

you're pulp under they're feet. but maybe you can still prick their sole/soul carefully enough to send them hurtling to the earth, beanstalk and all.

forget your images of victory. there's no need to needlessly fire off rounds into your enemy, in just the manner they did to your brother, and in just the manner they're sister's going to do to you.

there is not likely to be any victory within my lifetime. there may not even be any visible evidence that i've done anything. but i'm going to play my cards over and over again until someone up there gives something to someone down here.


"what the hell do you mean, man?! I can see the food in your hand! Just drop it to us!"
"What are you going to pay for it?"
"What?! pay for it?!"
"Of course you'll have to pay for it... it'll strengthen our economy!"
"Who's we?"
"All of us."
"Stop B.S.-ing us! drop the food and help us up!"
"Help you up? my people don't even associate with your's aside from touching the same moneys."
"what moneys? Brother, i've seen nothing of your moneys down here in a long time."
"Is that so? Well then stop being bloody lazy, you bastards!"
"Then at least drop down the ladder so maybe, just maybe, we can taste the bottom rung!"
"What are you going to pay for it?"

I don't know what i'm going to have to do to get up there, but I will not assume i am any better than my sisters and brothers in their freakin private jets way up there! i give you my word, my pact, my promise, i will play nice. if you will.

i'm not going to stop. you are killing my family. this is personal.

love and peace.
or else everyone else gets the "or else"