Danielle and I had been planning on taking a walk out to the river at my parent's place for about a month. They live about a half mile or so away from the river and there's a nice path from their place down to the river. Danielle got to the house a little before noon and we chatted with the family a bit before we headed out on our walk. We donned blaze orange vests because it's bow hunting season and neither of us were very keen on the idea of getting arrows shot in our general direction.


Hooray for blaze orange throwing off the color balance on digital photographs.

Hanyway, we carried on our merry little way with our brand spanking new blaze orange vests and walked out to the river with three of the cats from the farm keeping us company. They followed us all the way out to the river and back and made sure we were safe. We made our way back to the house for some tasty food courtesy of my awesome mom. When we got back no one was home because Jess had forgotten some of her stuff for work at the farm, so my parents had to go and chase her down. I figured we'd at least set the table and whatnot, so Danielle helped me get the food onto plates and set the table. As I was setting down some food on the table in the dining room, she walked in and noticed something was off. There were only two plates on the table. She asked me if this had been planned all along. "Maybe," said I in my completely not-smooth voice. "Hey, I have a question for you." *Will you marry me?* I asked in sign language (Danielle's a deaf ed. major). She said, "Yes." Actually, if I remember correctly, she said, "Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes," and gave me a big hug and started to cry. It was a good time.

And now it's picture time.


Ooooo.


Awwww.


I think she was surprised.


A picture of the cute engaged couple.


And a more serious picture for good measure.

So. . .

I'm kind of. . .

engaged.

I'll bore you with the details on my next post, because I am freaking worn out right now. It's only 8 o'clock right now, but it's been a very nerve-racking/exciting/long day. So. . .yeah. I'll post some pictures sometime tomorrow or something.

Here's to the start of an exciting future. With G-d at our side and love in our hearts, Danielle and I will live out our lives. Together.

I should really be doing homework or something. But I'm not. And I don't care. The professor for my 2:00 class was late. . .so we left. He eventually showed up and was a bit miffed I'm told. Such is life I suppose. Right now I'm sitting in a fairly cramped lab listening to Underoath. Good times.

The beard is coming along quite nicely. Danielle even told me that she'd even like it--not just tolerate it--if I shaved off the molestache. I shaved that off earlier this week and have gotten nothing but compliments on my rugged and manly facial hair.

Just did a search on Xanga tags. Sad that Christianity is tagged more than Jesus.

I'm continually amazed with how G-d works. This world tells us all sorts of things that don't fit in with His truth and love. The one that bugs me the most is how we must live with our mistakes and there are some things that can never be undone. He doesn't work that way. He doesn't hold anything against us. Forgiveness and redemption are ours if only we ask. Mistakes are wiped away and no longer ours. Christ takes them away.

That's huge.

And I don't think we ever really truly realize how huge that is. Even now I still don't. But, like a man unable to see the top of a mountain as it reaches the heavens, I think I'm starting to have a better appreciation for the true scope of His love and forgiveness. Because not only does He forgive, He cleanses and makes new. His forgiveness is so powerful that our mistakes are gone. Washed away. Put upon the cross and left there. All we have to do is let go. . .which is sometimes the hardest part. But that's all we have to do. Let go.

Let go.
Let go. . .

Sounds good to me.

And if ever You come near
I'll hold up high a mirror
Lord, I could never show You anything as beautiful as You

You had a trucker beard?!



I'm letting the beard go a bit. I'm not sure about it yet. . .I'll probably do a little something more with it, like shaving that ugly mustache-type-thing off. As of yet it's a work in progress. And no, I will not molest you.

G-d is amazing

It seems to me that the hard times don't get me down so much anymore. All they do is serve to remind me how absolutely amazing G-d is. He forgives. He loves. I just hope I'll somehow be able to show that through my life.

A short prayer from the heart

Jesus, thank You.

I will be strong.
I will love.
I will forgive.

. . . . .

I will be strong because You have breathed Your strength into me.
I will love because You first loved me.
I will forgive because You see something in me worth forgiving.

Edit:

What is it with this time in October? Damn it. It's been 51 weeks to the day since the last time I felt like this. It's been just under a year since I last saw my sense of reality crack and fall away like this. Nearly a year since I had to open my eyes wider than I'd ever cared to before.

But I refuse to bend. I refuse to break. I refuse to let the hurts of this life master me. Whoever He Is that lives inside me is too great to let me allow hurt to rule me.

I will not falter.
I will not fail.
I will not give up.

Instead, I will do what He calls me to. I will love.

I will love fucking hard.

Here's the article I submitted to The Spectrum for Tuesday's edition, almost seven hours before the deadline. Go me. Anyway, I hope you guys get something from it.

"The other day a friend asked me if I would support the death penalty if someone had killed my parents. Without a moment’s hesitation I told him no. I wouldn’t. My reasoning is pretty simple really. Jesus told us to love our enemies and that no one is beyond redemption. I told my friend this and he cited what I’ve come to call the 'Well, that’s just Jesus' excuse.

He told me Jesus’ teachings were all fine and good and we should try our best to follow them, but we can never hope to do so fully because we’re flawed. It’s a fine argument on its face and certainly makes sense to anyone who’s tried following Jesus. The only problem is it’s wrong. Dead wrong.

There are plenty of examples in the Gospels that illustrate the fact Jesus has faith in us to follow His every teaching. He showed His disciples a mustard seed—the tiniest of seeds known then—and told them if their faith was as large as this tiny seed they could move mountains. Nothing would be impossible for them. Remember Peter? He saw Jesus walking on the water and asked if he could come out on the water. Peter then stepped off the boat, walked on water and started sinking only because of his lack of faith. Most of us today, me included, would have a hard time jumping out of a boat and believe we could walk on the sea. But remember the mustard seed. It takes only the tiniest amount of faith to achieve the impossible. So whether you think you can or can’t follow Jesus, you’re probably right. But even if you don’t believe in yourself, Jesus does.

If you read the Gospels, you’ll come across the account of Jesus calling some brothers to come follow him so he could make them fishers of men. They immediately left behind their father and followed Jesus. That story seemed absolutely ridiculous to me until earlier this year when I dug up some information on how rabbis taught back then. You see, in Jesus’ time it would be a great honor to be the student of a rabbi. Young boys would start memorizing the Torah at age six. After almost ten years of studying the Old Testament only the best of the best remained. These remaining men sought rabbis to follow. Whenever a student asked a rabbi for the privilege to follow him, the rabbi would measure up the young man. If the rabbi thought the young man could follow his teachings he would tell the student to come follow him. Sound familiar? The brothers Jesus called were not the best and brightest. If they had made the cut, they wouldn’t be fishing with their dad. They would have already been out following a rabbi. Jesus called them all the same. In fact, none of Jesus’ disciples were the best and brightest. Jesus called the not-good-enoughs. He believed in them. He believes in us. He believes we can follow him.

So this whole 'Well, that’s just Jesus' argument doesn’t cut it. If you follow Jesus you have no excuse to disregard a teaching by labeling it as too hard. Sure, it may be hard to love others as Jesus would. I find it extremely difficult to forgive those who have immensely hurt those I love. But Jesus calls us to follow because He knows we can. He believes in me. He believes in you. All we have to do is share in His belief."

Snow!

Ah, the joys of living in the Midwest. A light dusting of snow on my "lawn" (there's a story about my "lawn," but I'm not going to talk about it now or else I'm going to get myself all cheesed off) greeted me when I woke up this morning. I like snow. . .at least during this part of the year--I'm ready to be done with it come January. The falling snow soothes my soul and reminds me of G-d. I don't know why. . .but it does.

Fall left far too early. It seems we don't have fall anymore. The past couple of years we've had a few weeks of crazy weather--hot and cold, but not cool--and then winter comes. Sad. Fall is my favorite season of the year too. Oh well. . .G-d is still good.

I'm working on an opinion article for the next issue of The Spectrum. Next up on Jake's agenda: How the "Well, that was just Jesus, I can't measure up to that," excuse doesn't cut the mustard. That's not the headline. Hopefully I'll be able to cut that down a little bit. But expect that article posted here sometime Saturday night.

I don't have much to say.

Seek Whoever He Is with all your might.

I just got an e-mail from the opinion editor complimenting me on my last piece and asking if I could write another one for Tuesday's issue. Here's what I wrote...

"As November approaches, the bombardment of political advertisements begins to hit the airwaves. The American public hears about all the hot-button partisan issues:gay marriage, the war, and, of course, abortion. The Bush administration has used the phrase 'culture of life' as a reason their stance against abortion and a myriad of other issues ranging from stem cell research to euthanasia. Yet, war kills our soldiers and innocent civilians alike, our justice system endorses the execution of prisoners, and we barely bat an eye as much of Africa and other third-world nations go up in flames. A culture of life? Hardly.

This 'culture of life' the Republican party has set up is anything but. A culture of life respects all life—every single life—no matter what they have done, no matter what stage of life they are in, or where that life lives on this Earth. If we ever truly hope to establish the elusive culture of life in America we have to take a hard look at some extremely difficult and complex issues. For one, abortion destroys a human life. There’s no way around that fact. You can try to reason that it’s only a fetus or that the organism contained inside the woman’s womb is just a part of her body and she has the right to do with it what she sees fit. That’s fine if you believe that. But I don’t. However, we as a society often condemn those who go through with abortions. We degrade their life for ceasing the life of another. This is not the culture of life. The culture of life cares for the hard decision this woman has made and wants to help out in any way it can. I have a suspicion if we as a country really cared so much for these unborn children we would be welcoming a lot more of these women into our homes.

The culture of life also cares for those whom society has cast to the side. It is against capital punishment because redemptive violence only fosters the cycle of hate. It is absolutely absurd to believe a life is worth any less because it has made some grave mistake. Everyone has the right to live, no matter who they are or what they have done. Iraqis, Afghanis, and all others in the Middle East have as much of a right to life as any in America or across the world. Those—including myself—who ascribe to the idea of a culture of life need to wake up and realize all life is precious and needs to be protected by whatever means.

A life is a life is a life. Those who truly believe in the culture of life recognize this. They also realize that life does not begin at conception and end at birth. The true culture of life is a difficult thing to realize, but is something most certainly worth fighting for. I just hope we as a society will have the determination, wisdom and dedication to make it a reality."

This article was inspired by my last post. This should go out in Tuesday's edition of The Spectrum. I hope you like it.

"I am not your typical college-aged guy. I never had a drop of alcohol until I was of age, and even since then I’ve never been drunk. I don’t watch sports. If you ever see me watching ESPN it’s either because my roommate has taken control of the remote or because I’ve gone clinically insane. I’ve never had sex and I’m proud of it. I’m not afraid to cry in front of others. It’s true. I am far from the stereotype of an American male. And that’s perfectly fine by me. I’m content not being the stereotype, because I think true manly men are an entirely different sort than what we think of as the typical guy.

Manly men have character. They have convictions they firmly believe in. But they also admit when they have done wrong. They love hard because truly loving takes the most strength of all. They strive to do good in all things, accept responsibility for the times they fail and work to become a better man. This is where the idea of masculinity has gotten severely warped and twisted. Society tells us today that men are fundamentally screw-ups. American culture endorses this “I’m just a guy” mentality that allows us men to get off scot free if we mess up. In the long run, it’s okay if we forget an anniversary here or a birthday there because, hey, we’re just guys. It’s not my fault if I don’t understand my girlfriend’s not fine when she says, “I’m fine,” because once again, I’m just a guy. If a girl gets sexually assaulted or raped part of the blame falls on her. Because she shouldn’t have dressed so provocatively or pushed him so far physically. Real men rise above those temptations and realize how sick and twisted those actions truly are. Guys, it’s high time we own up to what we do. Yeah, we screw up a fair amount of the time. We’re humans. It happens. But when we pass our failures off as “just being guys” we’re copping out. We undermine our true strength when we fail to take responsibility for our own actions. “Just guys” have no idea of what a man truly looks like.

I long for a return of the manly men. I want to see a generation of men who walk tall and justly because they do the right thing. Men who love hard. Men who aren’t afraid to cry because they know that the beauty and sorrow of this world both move a real man to tears. Men who own up to their failures and constantly seek to improve who they are for the benefit of those around them. These are the manly men. Those who have disappeared from our mind’s eye of what a man is, but still live out what a man should be. We may not see them much today, but one can only hope they return.

The world could always use more manly men."