Make Him Known

!Feliz Navidad!

2012-02-01T21:39:00.002-06:00

School was a trip today... in a really good way.

My Spanish 3 students are currently working on demonstrative adjectives and pronouns (aka "this, that, these, those") in Spanish. I placed three gift-wrapped boxes in the room and asked three volunteers to choose from this box, that box, or that box way over those.

I left the contents of the box a mystery. They could be empty, contain a million dollar, or a barbie. Who knew?

The first volunteer got an expired Spangles coupon and a sucker.

The second received a beautifully empty used picture frame.

The third - oh the third - received the best gift of all:

A two-foot tall fiberoptic Christmas tree complete with ornaments.

Oh yeah. She bragged about it the rest of the day.

In my Spanish 4 class I gave the students the chance to tell their teacher what to do for once! They were working on how to form commands in Spanish, so I decided to have some fun. Each student wrote two commands and threw them into "The Bossy Box." If the command was completely correct, I had to do what it said. If it was incorrect in any way, they had to do what it said.

Needless to say, I embarrassed myself a few times. I combed a student's hair, sang a riveting rendition of "Man in the Mirror," and ran around the room yelling, "I'm not intelligent."

I thought that was fun. But what was more fun was watching my students do the things that they thought I was going to have to do.

One girl has to bake me a fresh batch of cookies.

Another will speak in a southern accent the entire class period.

One of the fellas had to admit that he secretly loved K-State, which made him visibly sick. (ha!)

One student will perform "Part of Your World," from The Little Mermaid to begin class tomorrow.

I can't wait to eat my cookies, call on the Texan all class period for answers, and be serenaded by the sounds of The Little Mermaid.

Tomorrow is looking very, very bright.

Peace, Love, and Adventure, ya'll.

Seth

I see you.

2012-01-23T17:08:00.005-06:00

Most people categorize high school students as unmotivated creatures with little creativity. Not the students at my high school. Oh no sir. They have an uncanny ability to take an everyday object and turn it into something really, really special...something their parents and the community would be proud of.

I see you, high school students. I'll forever be trying to "get on your level."

Peace, love and creativity, ya'll.

Seth

Oh, mother.

2012-01-13T22:20:00.002-06:00

My mom is a saint. However, I haven't always believed so. As an meek and submissive middle child, mom always heaped the chores onto me instead of my rebellious older brother and mouthy and argumentative younger sister. Each time she did, my ears turned red with anger. I often imagine a cloud of steam rushing out of my ears and swirling in a cloud above my ten year old head.

I will say, though, that as I have gotten older, my mom has made viable attempts to become more hip and "with it." Her most recent endeavor was to master the art of texting so that she could reach her children when they didn't answer her 17th phone call of the day, which was probably just to ask them some trivial question like, "Did you remember to buy groceries this week?" or "Do you remember that your great-aunt's birthday is three weeks, two days, and 6 hours from right now?"

I appreciate her attempt. I really do. But, if calling her a master of texting was the truth, and the truth came in the shape of the popular 90's toy stretch armstrong, his arms would be helplessly stretched to the point where you can see the tiny beads that make up his malleable extremities.

I say all of this because I've noticed a pattern in my mom's texting. She has no idea how to turn the capitalization key on or off. She does it by accident. So, I consequently imagine her yelling these things at me. Recently, I've received messages like,

"Call me when you have a minute. NOTHING BIG. DON'T WORRY OR ANYTHING."

and, when I told her that a movie was good, she said,

"Is it? I BOUGHT THE MOVIE BUT HAVENT WATCHED IT YET," as if to tell me to get off her back for not having seen it.

Another favorite is when she inadvertently screams how she feels.

"That's nice. I MISS YOU AND I LOVE YOU AND I WANT YOU TO COME HOME SOON.

I secretly hope she never figures the caps key out. I also secretly hope that she doesn't even realize that she's doing it. In this case, her ignorance is truly my bliss.

Peace, love, and Paula Deen, ya'll

Seth

Cut and dry.

2011-12-23T11:48:00.003-06:00

So, my friends, here's what I wrote this morning on my 21st birthday. A friend has recently been asking some questions regarding faith in Christ, and I think that posting this may answer questions that others may have! So, here is the question and my response!

1. Question (paraphrased): Gandhi and Bill Gates dedicated their lives to social justice, equality, and charity, and my Christian friends believe that just because they didn't believe the right thing that they are spending eternity in hell. Is getting into Heaven so cut and dry? Or do you think God chooses in a more sophisticated manner?

This is a question that some Christians would avoid trying to answer because they don’t want to step on people’s toes. I’ll try to answer this the best that I can. This is going to be a long answer! Brace yourself!

At the beginning of creation, Adam and Eve were in the Garden of Eden and living in perfect unison with God. The Bible says that they walked in the garden with God and talked with him every day. They were literally best friends and companions. God created men in his image, which means that they were perfect and without sin. If God is a holy and perfect being (which I believe he is), he can only be in the presence of righteous, perfect people. After Eve disobeyed God by eating from the tree of knowledge of good and evil (and consequently offered it to Adam), humans lost their perfection. For that reason, God sent them from the Garden, which was his dwelling place on the earth. Since then, humanity has been imperfect. Because Eve ate from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, humanity is now able to know what God has always known: the difference between good and evil. We had no idea that evil even existed! We were in perfect communion with the perfect creator!

Now, when we think of justice, we think of people working to correct their own misdeeds. When a prisoner is locked up, often he has the chance to redeem himself by working his way back to normalcy. If his behavior is good, he moves to a different prison with less strict rules, and eventually, he may earn his freedom. In this scenario, he is attempting to rectify his standing in society because of the malicious act that he perpetrated. Try applying this scenario to the paragraph above. If Adam and Eve are now prisoners because of their knowledge of good and evil, it is impossible for them to redeem their situation. In this case, they are not rectifying themselves in society because of an act that they committed; rather they would be trying to erase the knowledge that they gained from eating the fruit. They cannot “un-know” the knowledge that they have received. They cannot erase the knowledge that was implanted in them and undoubtedly passed on to their children (and their children, and their children, etc).

It was for this reason that Jesus came. We cannot in any possible “work” our way into heaven.

“By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers. But if anyone has the world's goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God's love abide in him? Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.” 1 John 3:16-18

God’s love is unconditional. You’ve probably heard that phrase many, many times, but let me explain it a little more than you may be used to. “Unconditional” means that God loves us all equally. When we think of “unconditional,” we tend to think on the negative side. For example, “Even if I mess up and sin, God still loves me because his love is unconditional.” While that is true, the other side is also true. “Even when I do something amazing and praiseworthy, God still loves me the same amount because his love is unconditional.” There is NOTHING that we can do to make God love us less. There is NOTHING that we could do to make God love us more. No misdeed or good deed will enhance our standing in the eyes of the Lord. He already loves us at his full capacity, which is much, much more than we can imagine.

With this in mind, look at Ephesians 2:8 and 9 – “For it is by grace that you have been saved, through faith – and this is not of yourselves, it is a gift from God – not by works so that no man can boast.” What we see here is that God does not base our salvation upon our deeds. Why? Because his love is unconditional. If we were all judged upon our good deeds, we would all be in trouble. I don’t know about you, but more often than not, by sinful thoughts and bad deeds out number my good deeds by far! I’m so thankful that I am not seen based on my deeds. Verse 8 says that we are saved by grace through faith. Odds are that you have heard this verse, too, so let me explain. Grace is unmerited favor. God has mercy on us, but we (even I!) don’t deserve it! However, the verse also says that this grace comes through faith! By adding “in Jesus Christ” at the end, the verse is a little more clear. By faith in Jesus Christ, I have been saved by God’s favor that I in no way earned. Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the father except through me.”

Have you ever wondered why he said this? Seems quite exclusive, doesn’t it?

“God made him who had no sin to become sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” – 2 Corinthians 5:21.

“Him who had no sin” is Jesus Christ. In the Old Testament, the first half of the Bible that documents life before Jesus’ birth, God required sacrifices of lambs to cleanse humanity of sin. By sacrificing these sinless creatures, man’s sin was covered temporarily; until the next time that a sacrifice was required. When Jesus arrived on the scene, all of that changed. Jesus, often called “The Lamb of God,” became our permanent sacrifice. No longer would humanity have to sacrifice animals to please God. They simply need to believe that Jesus “became sin for us” and cleansed us from all impurities.

Those who don’t believe that Christ became sin and took God’s wrath have not yet received Christ’s cover. Colossians 3:3 says this: “For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.” When God looks at believers, he no longer sees them as sinful beings. He sees Christ. As a believer, I am literally hidden in Christ so that when I die and God pronounces his judgment on me, he sees Christ and not my “deeds.” It’s fascinating, isn’t it? I am so thankful for that.

So, with that said, I do believe that getting into heaven is cut and dry. BUT, I refuse to believe that God doesn’t grieve over the loss of a soul. The Bible says that God desires that EVERYONE come to know him. “The LORD is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.” God wishes that everyone come to accept Christ as savior.

So, referring back to the part where I said that God does not judge us based on our deeds, rather, he looks at whether we are hidden in Christ, let’s talk about Gates and Gandhi. I do believe that Bill Gates and Gandhi are amazing men. However, if they are not hidden in Christ, they will not be spending eternity with him. Gandhi specifically was raised in a country where Christianity was not the main religion. One could assume that he may have never had the opportunity to hear the message of Christ. That may be true, and it may not be. Either way, God says that he reveals himself to everyone and provides him or her opportunities to discover him. “For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities – his eternal power and divine nature – have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse” Romans 1:20. This means that even though Gandhi may not have been directly told of the power of Christ to save, he is without excuse because God has revealed himself through creation.

God is patient with YOU, not wanting you to perish, but to come to repentance. He wants you to accept Christ as your savior. I hope that this has answered your question and spurred something inside of you. Remember that there is NOTHING you could do to make God love you less (or more)! He LOVES you. He desires that you know him, and so do I.

Mr. Kangaroo and Mr. Emu

2011-12-19T18:58:00.004-06:00

Well folks, I did it. I managed to complete my entire undergraduate coursework with a 4.0. It feels pretty good, and I'd say its a pretty redemptive experience because of the 3.96 I graduated high school with. (Yeah... one B... and it was in Driver's Ed.)

In just a few short weeks, my entire life will change drastically. This hot-off-the-press 21 year old Spanish teacher will be stepping into the three story building that houses the largest and most diverse population of students in Wichita (name omitted purposely) to student teach. There are issues with gangs, daily fights, and large numbers of students that don't graduate. This terrifies me.

Or, at least I guess it would. But, for the most part, I won't be dealing with those students. I'll be with the "advanced" students. These students are set apart from the rest of the school. They have a different schedule and different expectations. Part of me wants the real experience that I will surely have in the near future as a full-time teacher, part of me is excited to really push the students to grow and explore the language. I've promised myself to give this experience everything that I've got, and today, I've been dreaming.

My friend Megan recently told me of her wish to get an emu tattooed on her arm. I had no idea why anyone would want that horribly ugly bird permanently implanted into their skin, but after her explanation, I got it.

You see, the emu cannot walk backwards.

Fascinating isn't it?

With a little googleizing, I discovered that the kangaroo also has difficulty moving backwards.

This has sparked an idea in my head. The mascot of my classroom will be either and emu or a kangaroo.

It sounds stupid, but I think that the students will really take to the idea. As of now, I'm leaning towards the kangaroo for a couple of reasons. First, there are several species of kangaroos, from the giant leaping ones that are featured in movies to tiny ones that fit in your palm. Second, mother kangaroos house their "joeys" in their pouches until they are ready to face the world. Third, kangaroos are so apt to adapt that they have been known to live in the desert, near the icy peaks of mountains, and even on golf courses. Fourth, a large group of kangaroos is called a "mob." Fifth, much like cows, kangaroos have several stomach chambers that allow them to digest large amounts of food. And finally,like I mentioned, kangaroos do not move backwards easily. In fact, they can leap fantastic distances at high speeds.

The amount of species represents the diversity of the classroom. Each student in the room has a history. Each student is different. Each has struggled in some way or another to get to where they are now. However different they are, they are still kangaroos. And in the long run, they'll always be accepted as so.

The fact that mothers house their young in their pouch represents the family environment that I will promote in the classroom. My students will look out for each other, and when they feel they're ready, they will be free to step out on their own.

Third, the kangaroo's ability to adapt represents the flexibility that I will require of my students. The best way to reach each student is by making each week, each day, each lesson so drastically different from the last one that they are engaged and on their toes. My students will need to be flexible and willing to adapt to my teaching style.

Fourth, the name of the large group, a "mob", symbolizes the unity that I expect between my students. I wish to instill a sense of pride in them. I want them to be proud of their work and of their efforts. I want them to encourage the efforts of the rest of the "mob" and rally around them when they most need it.

Fifth, the kangaroo's stomach, as one could anticipate, represents the amount of work that students will successfully "digest." I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the majority of students desire to learn. My goal is to make learning so enjoyable that the students don't even realize that they are learning and digesting large amounts of information.

And finally, the kangaroo's inability to move backwards personifies the continual forward motion that will be characteristic of my classroom. I believe that a student should not only grow a student in knowledge, but that they should also help a student discover their true selves and pursue their passions. Yes, I expect my students to leap like kangaroos in knowledge, but more than that, I hope that they make huge gains as an individual and global citizen.

I don't know about you, but I definitely want to be a kangaroo.

( I sketched these today. It says, "The mascot of our classroom will be either a kangaroo or emu because they do not move backwards.")

An Autobiography of Sorts...

2011-12-01T19:55:00.002-06:00

As a young child I loved school. My mother often reminds me of how I would beg to go to school, even on the weekends throughout the summer. Something about the collision of the social and academic aspects was extremely appealing to me then, and the same is true now. Many educators have inspired me to pursue a career in education.

My first exposure to an educational environment was in my home. My mother worked for several years as a childcare provider and was constantly teaching the children under her care, including my siblings and me. We constantly read together as a family and even had mini spelling bees between my brother, sister and I. Her time was well spent and her instruction translated to immediate success in the first years of my schooling. The first teacher to impact me was Mrs. Reutter, my first grade teacher. An elderly woman, Mrs. Reutter was sweet, genuine and caring. She used friendly competition to encourage us to read and treated me to a coke at the local burger shop when I read the most pages. Her personal interest in my success is etched into my mind.

Although my middle school years were mostly uneventful, one teacher inspired me to pursue my personal interests. After a school-wide photography contest, Mrs. Colborn, my sixth grade teacher, praised my work and asked that I work with her on the yearbook staff. A professional photographer herself, Mrs. Colborn taught me so much about pursuing my passions because she hired me as a part-time employee for her new business. I began by following her around on photo shoots and altering lighting, but soon graduated to taking candid photographs of weddings and senior picture sessions with her second camera. She was also the director of the sixth grade play and gave me a lead role in the show, spurring my passion for drama and theater. Mrs. Colborn would go on to be my high school theater director and forensics coach, guiding me to several lead roles and many league and state titles throughout my career. My personal interests in photography and theater spurred from her encouragement and personal interest in my life.

Unlike my time in middle school, my high school years were anything but uneventful. I enrolled in advanced placement courses and soon started an accelerated course in order to graduate a semester early. While I performed well in the sciences, fine arts, and language arts, I struggled to find a discipline that captivated me. All of that changed my sophomore year when I began taking Spanish classes with Mrs. Moore. While other students followed along with her instruction, I made leaps and bounds as was quickly at the top of the class. Mrs. Moore allocated extra work for me and encouraged any venture that I wanted to attempt. Because of the small size of my high school, only Spanish One and Spanish Two existed. After speaking with administration, Mrs. Moore fought to establish a Spanish Three, a class with one student: me. The fact that Mrs. Moore negotiated to begin a class for me meant the world. I will never forget that Mrs. Moore desired that I be successful, and for that reason, I was successful. She inspired me to study Spanish at the university level.

I would be a fool to say that I made it through my career at Friends University alone. One professor, Dr. Jerry Smartt, has been my biggest fan, greatest encourager, and most earnest advocate at Friends. Her passion for the Spanish language is infectious. As a junior in high school, I visited Friends and met with Dr. Smartt to find out about the Spanish department. She spoke with such conviction and urgency, convincing me of the need for more Spanish speakers in the country. Before I even left her office I had already decided to pursue a Spanish Education major. At one point in my education I became so frustrated with the education program that I abandoned my dream of being a teacher and settled for a bachelor of arts in Spanish. When Dr. Smartt found out, she called me into her office and begged me to reconsider. When I couldn’t see the teacher in myself, Dr. Smartt did. Upon her request, I picked the major back up. The next semester I had an independent study with Dr. Smartt for the Spanish Methods and Practicum for Grades Pre-k through 6. During this course, I thought I did not have what it took to become an educator. I called Dr. Smartt, a nervous wreck, and she met me on campus, on a Saturday, even. That morning she spoke to me with the same conviction and urgency as the first time I met her and convinced me again that I would undoubtedly succeed, and even more, be great. Dr. Smartt is one of my biggest fans, and she reminds me on a weekly basis. I would not be the person or the educator that I am without her influence.

Looking back at the life-changing educators that I mentioned, one might notice that all of them are women. There is a serious lack of men in the public school system today. Many men have assumed either the roles of a laborer or a businessman. The lack of a male presence in my educational career has also spurred me to become an educator. Children need a positive male role model in their lives on a daily basis, and I see myself filling that position for many children who may lack one.

I think I have learned something about the education field through each of the afore-mentioned teachers. From Mrs. Reutter, I learned that a genuine and caring demeanor wins the love and trust of students. From Mrs. Colborn, I learned that a teacher does more than just promote success in their own discipline; they inspire their students to pursue their passions. From Mrs. Moore, I learned that fighting for a student’s success is never a lost cause. And from Dr. Smartt, I learned to never let a student doubt himself or give up on his dreams. I know that by following the example of the most incredible educators that I know, I will, as Dr. Smartt said, do more than succeed. I will excel.

Getting to the Center of W.

2011-11-04T16:19:00.003-05:00

He came in at just the wrong moment. President George W. Bush walked onto stage just two sentences too early to start his night off in Wichita. After confidently back-stepping behind the curtain, he successfully entered the stage five seconds later, waving and thanking the energetic crowd.

This was the first of many instances in which the former president caused the enormous crowd to burst into laughter. The former president seemed to let his guard down as he entertained and informed Wichitans last night. His humanness smacked the audience in the face right from the start. His speech began with an anecdote about the day he watched Barack Obama be sworn into the office of the president. He plopped down on his couch and started conversing with his wife.

"Thank goodness that's over." he said to Laura. "I'll finally have some free time on my hands."

"Yes, George," she replied, "Now you finally have the time to do your own dishes."

"Laura. You do realize you're talking to the former President of the United States?" he responded.

"Yes, I do. Just call this your new Domestic Policy Plan."

Wichitans were wooed by the President's southern charm and casual demeanor. Bush even managed to utilize the word "dude" in his speech. Most were disappointed that no "Bush-isms" were coined, but they were impressed with how frequently he made fun of himself. While talking about his book, he acknowledged that most people in D.C. didn't think that he could even read, let alone write. He also cracked jokes about the fateful day that he choked on a pretzel, passed out, and was resuscitated by the President's doctor.

All jokes aside, the former President spoke with incredible honesty about some of the decisions and events that shaped his presidency. At about the middle of his speech, he referenced his decision to send 15 billion dollars worth of aid to Africa to battle the HIV/AIDS epidemic. At the time of this decision, many Americans were upset with his choice to send aid abroad when the U.S. had its own problems to deal with. In one heartfelt sentence, he justified his decision, saying, "As the President of the most powerful nation ever, you must have priorities."

Most audience members had to fight their way through protesters outside chanting, "ARREST GEORGE BUSH." And although they were causing a ruckus, the one word that George Bush yelled during his speech was volumes louder and better received. He spoke of the choice to use faith-based programs to implement the HIV/AIDS prevention programs in Africa and the controversy that it caused because of their conservative and traditional approach. "If you want to tick some people off," he said, "just go to the Lincoln Memorial and yell 'ABSTINENCE' at the top of your lungs."

After wrapping up his speech, the president transitioned into a one-on-one interview with a member of the Wichita Chamber of Commerce. The interviewer asked him several questions, including "What went through your mind on September 11, 2001 and what are your thoughts ten years later?" Bush answered with sincerity and expressed his surprising lack of emotion during the 10 year memorial service. "The service was impersonal," he said. "I was sitting in a bulletproof glass box and watching the service from a distance."

Whether Republican, Democrat, or other, each member of the audience left Century II with a better sense of who George W. Bush is and the rationale behind his decision making during his presidency. His Christian values permeated throughout the entire presentation, but really they really shone when he ended his speech saying, "God is Good," to which the Kansas crowd joyfully responded, "All the time!"

Letter from an Inanimate Object

2011-10-27T20:58:00.002-05:00

I was inspired by Love, Teach, which is an incredible blog written by a first year teacher. She is seriously one of the most hysterical writers that I know. I saw this post from her and decided to try to do the same thing. Here is my letter from an inanimate object.

Hey Seth -

We need to talk. I feel like you're using me. You only come and get me when you need something from me. Its getting kind of ridiculous. I mean, the only time you even think about me is at the very end of the day. And by that time of night, I've been waiting for you all day and you NEVER show up. Its seriously exhausting. You know exactly how to push all of my buttons to just make me go off. Sometimes I even scream in your ear trying to get your attention, and you just smack my face and tell me to go to sleep. I'm tired of you using me and hitting me. I think we need to take a break. Let's just not see each other for a while, ok?

Sincerely,
Your Alarm Clock

Gettin' preachy with it

2011-09-20T15:25:00.002-05:00

Most of the time, I try to avoid gettin' preachy with it (na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na na, OW!(Sang to the tune of gettin jiggy with it, of course)) with my blog posts. But today, I'm going to make an exception.

After finishing the blood and guts stories of 1 and 2 Samuel and 1 and 2 Kings, I decided to back track and study the book of Ruth. I had read the story several times before. Before I started, I tried to recall what I could remember about the book. Here's what I came up with:
* Ruth is Naomi's daughter-in-law.
* Ruth's husband dies. His brother dies also.
* Naomi encourages Ruth to go back to her home land.
* Ruth refuses, saying "Where you go, I'll go. Where you stay, I'll stay."
* Ruth inspires Chris Tomlin's most recent single with her words.
* Ruth works in Naomi's kinsman's field, picking up the leftover harvest and things that other workers have dropped.
* Boaz fancies Ruth and ends up marrying her.

With that in mind and Chris Tomlin's song stuck in my head, I began reading. Several times in chapter 3 and 4 the phrase "Kinsman-redeemer" was used. I was perplexed because I had never heard of the term. So, I did what any good, well-educated Biblical scholar would do. I googled it.

The first site I came to had a list of qualifications for a Kinsman-redeemer in Biblical Israel.
1. He must be a kinsman.
2. He must be free himself.
3. He must be able to pay the price.
4. He must be willing to pay the price.

Naomi and Ruth needed a Kinsman-redeemer in order to keep their family name alive and to maintain the property that the owned. Boaz eventual became that Kinsman-redeemer and preserved their family name.

This is all good and well, but a very wise young woman told me once that every story in the Old Testament has something that points to Jesus; that he is present in every story of the Bible in some way. I looked at the above criteria and thought,

"Yes! That describes Jesus Christ. He is free. He is able to pay the price for us. AND, he's willing to pay the price. But, where does the Kinsman criteria fit?"

Then, it hit me. This summer I spent several weeks delving into Hebrews. in chapter two, it says,

"In bringing many sons and daughters to glory, it was fitting that God, for whom and through whom everything exists, should make the pioneer of their salvation perfect though what he suffered. Both the one who makes people holy and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters. ... Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death, this is the devil..."

How remarkable is the thought of Jesus being my Kinsman-redeemer? He became man and shared in our suffering so that we could become of the same family. He purchased us willingly.

And if that isn't cool enough, I read another quote from a book today about Kinsman-redeemers. It says,

"The redeemer is the next of kin whose duty it is to vindicate a family member within the family. The responsibility of the redeemer extends to brothers, uncles, cousins, and any other blood relative. He was bound to avenge the murder of a kinsman. Blood revenge is intimately involved with kinship and genealogy."

When Satan convinced Eve to eat the apple and to share it with Adam, he, in essence, murdered humanity. Jesus avenged us. By his blood, we are intimately involved with him in Kinship.

Praise God for Jesus Christ, my Kinsman-redeemer.

My most mint mishaps

2011-09-13T14:52:00.003-05:00

I feel like life would suck if you didn't know how to make fun of yourself. I long to be one of those people who continuously reflects on the oddities and embarrassing moments of my day and turn them into a comical anecdote.

For instance, last Friday I decided to spend my afternoon reading the Bible at Meads Corner. I ordered my hot drink, sat at my table, and proceeded to read. After a minute or two, I lifted my cup to sip the sweet, sweet life-giving java that it contained. While drinking, I felt a sensation on my leg akin to my phone vibrating in my pocket. I didn't think much of it. When I looked down to check my phone, I saw that the phantom vibration actually turned out to be my drink seeping through a poorly secured lid and cascading onto my bright white shorts. Oh, and it was burning the CRAP out of my inner thighs. Try explaining that one to the doctor giving you a physical.

I opted to play it cool. After the burning sensation stopped, I said to myself, "Ok. Just let the coffee dry and the stain will be less noticeable when I get up from my chair." I nonchalantly perused my Bible for another 20 minutes, letting the brown serum seep into the cloth. This whole time I thought, "AH! I should have invested in a Tide-to-go Pen!"

When it dried, I grabbed my sweater and used it to conceal the stain with all the finesse of a elementary school child trying to conceal the Sour Punch Straws that he slipped into his mom's shopping cart. Which, for those of you who have never seen "that kid," it looks way unnatural. And so, with my stained short fronts I strode proudly out of the room anxious to destain them.

See? I could have not told you that story and deprived you the privilege of laughing at my leg burns. So, here's another short anecdote.

This morning I decided to buy my class donuts for breakfast. I pulled out of the parking lot in my 2004 Mustang Convertible with the top down, enjoying the cool morning weather. As I was driving, I passed a car that emitted an awful stench. I dismissed it as normal air pollution and kept driving. A few seconds later though, when the car was long gone, I still smelled that terrible smell. I blamed the Wichita air and kept driving, thinking that the city officials really should do something about that odor. When I got to the donut shop, I parked my car and went to put the top up. In order to do so, the parking break must be engaged. I went to pull the parking break, and found it to be already up.

Yep. You read it right. I drove all the way to the donut shop with my parking break on. The friction made godawful odor similar to that of a dead, decaying animal. And to think, I blamed it on an old beat up jalopy and the Wichita maintenance team...

Smooth move, me.

Hope you got some laughs from those. What are some of your most mint mishaps?

The Counselor's Train of Consciousness

2011-08-16T18:23:00.004-05:00

"Well, its happened. My body feels quite decrepit and my mind isn't as sharp as it once was. I reflect on memories of "the good ole days" and find myself wallowing in nostalgia. Most of the kids have all moved out of state and left poor little me here alone. At least it was fun while it lasted. Time to see what the next life holds for me now."

Now, I know what you're thinking. "Why did Seth choose a blog to publish his corny short story narrated by an abandoned and grumpy grandfather?" Well, you've done two things amiss. One, you assumed that I'm an author, which is obviously untrue. And two, you've read this as an old man's train of consciousness when in fact it should be read through a Kanakuk Counselor's train of consciousness.

In many ways, its safe to compare a Kamp Counselor who has just recently returned from Kamp to a withering old man or woman. Here's why:

My decrepit body:

For ten long weeks, you play HARD. Crazy games every day leave you steaming like a lobster in your own shirt and dying for the comfort of your bed. And for those of us who release the cracken of hype that many counselors do, our bodies, and voices, deteriorate quite quickly. Who needs a voice, though? I'd gladly sacrifice that to the cracken of hype.

My failing mind:

Much like an ailing old man, my mind easily wanders off topic, especially to things like sleep, food, and comfort. Not only is Kamp physically exhausting, its mentally and emotionally draining. Planning 30 minute devotionals and counseling teens through parental issues, addictions and doubts of God and self worth can really take a toll on one's sanity. I've prescribed myself one "Monster Cookie" a day to combat this issue. As you can see, its pretty severe.

Wallowing in nostalgia:

There are honestly times when I just want to watch the Kamp recap video on repeat. I love K-Kauai so much and there is a special place for it in my heart. Sometimes its so hard to recount stories off the cuff, but something constantly reminds me of a funny story or impactful moment at Kauai, and my mind goes back.

The kids pack up and leave:

While they aren't my own kids and I've known them less that 3 months, some of the kids at Kamp made such an impact on my heart. Saying goodbye to them at the end of just a week was heartbreaking at times. Their passion for the Word, dedication to Christ, and sense of urgency in seeking wisdom is so encouraging and inspiring.

Awaiting the "next life":

No, I don't expect to die anytime soon (God willing...), but there is a weird moment of tension between Kamp and the real life that no one can really prepare you for. Its like I'm waiting for life to really happen, and at the same time, its catching up with me (and passing me) at the speed of light. School is upon me, yet my mind is still at Kamp.

I don't want you all to think that I'm miserable because honestly, I'm not. I'm wonderful.

Kanakuk K-Kauai was one of the best experiences that I've ever had in my life. I made the most precious memories there, ministered to the most excellent families in the United States, and got to show kids love in a way that is Christ centered, energetic and fun. My wild and crazy personality helped me break through the walls that campers had put up around their hearts before they arrived. Without knowing it, they began to trust me because I could make them laugh. Not long after, they began to trust me with issues concerning their walk with the Lord. God blessed me greatly and allowed me to speak truth into many campers this summer. I had the opportunity to teach for 3 weeks to the 12-18 year olds. I also got the opportunity to spend quality one on one time with some of the guys and battle through their struggles together with them.

The Lord used my talents to bring smiles and joy to campers, and for that, I'm grateful and give him the glory. The feeling of being used by the Lord is a feeling like none other. He also let me meet some of the most incredible people in the universe. My friends like Tyler, Pat, Micheal, Sean, Maddie, Karen, Jena, Kyler, Diana and GT made the experience truly unforgettable.

I am blessed greatly. I'm greatly happy. And, my soul is greatly filled.

Peace, love and pray for me, ya'll.

Kodak Moments

2011-07-20T09:45:00.007-05:00

Here are a few of the most recent pictures I've taken at Kamp and a little caption to go with each.

This is just a cool picture. I like it. Marshall and Carli were rockstars, as well as their whole family! Miss them a lot already!

This is Karen, Tyler, Maddie and I. We became extremely close friends during our time at Kauai. This place isn't the same without them! Their hype energy and realness is truly missed!

This is my good friend Pat Luken. He and I got really close during the first 6 weeks of Kamp. For the Taney County Fair, he dressed as a cow for Cow Tipping, in which kids wrestled him for an hour straight. He's tough.

This is Gideon Strong. He's a cool kid. At our "Taney County Fair," we dress at Hillbillys and Hillbettys and play silly games. The tickets you earn get you a piece of watermelon or a chance at the Dunk Tank! Gideon was rolling in the dough.

Suga-booga

2011-07-06T14:21:00.002-05:00

What a whirlwind of a few weeks this has been! Here's a short recap of Week 4.

1. over half of the families that came were from Louisiana.

2. they were the most energetic and excited group that we have had thus far.

3. i quickly became famous with the kids when i taught them how to beatbox using the words "boots and cats."

4. i became even more famous when i taught them the rap that Billy Bloomquist wrote to go along with it. They loved it so much that they begged me to write a second verse... so I did.

5. the kids became obsessed with my Harry Caray impersonation, although none of them actually knew who he was.

6. i had the opportunity to purchase one of my guys, Alex, his first Bible. we sat and talked about the structure of the Bible, how important it is to read it, and what some of my favorite verses were.

7. one of the ten year olds in the group was called "suga-booga" by his own mother the first night at dinner, so we called him that for the rest of the week. he also became famous quickly.

8. it was the first time that i cried when families left.

9. this week, i got moved up to the breakers group, which is the 12-18 year olds. its refreshing to have this move smack dab in the middle of the summer.

10. i'm starting to miss home, but the Lord has provided me with a couple of amazing friends this summer to counteract that.

The Lord is good. The WORD is good. Seriously. If you're not already, dig into it every day. It will change your heart.

Peace, love and pray for me, ya'll.

Seth

I'm a slug.

2011-06-22T09:24:00.002-05:00

I am Roz.

I am Harry Caray.

I am Whitey Duvall.

I am Jorgen Von Strangle (Min. 1:33-1:36).

Its insane how God has given me the opportunity to use my very obscure talent of impersonations to make friends at K-Kaua'i. I've made a connection with three families simply through a Harry Caray impersonation. The Lord knows what he's doing when he forms us in our mother's wombs.

Ask me for those impersonations sometimes. Also, if you remember any other ones that I can do, let me know. I'm trying to make a list!

Seth

P.S. - Watch those videos. The Roz one especially makes me laugh today.

Where to begin?

2011-06-17T20:36:00.002-05:00

This week started with a huge surprise:

Danny.

Danny is twelve, from Minnesota, around 5'0" and wears glasses. Danny loves to swim, read, and watch movies. Danny is also autistic.

Danny and I have been working together one on one during the mornings for the past 7 days. This week has been such a roller coaster. It was so difficult for me the first two days to figure out what Danny's characteristics were and how to correctly redirect him and encourage him to participate in the group activities.

During my initial debrief with his parents, they told me that Danny has the mental capacity of a 7 year old.

I think that is bull.

Danny is SO intelligent.

He has the capacity to quote entire movies word for word with correct tone and impersonations... after only ONE viewing. What an insane brain must lie in there.

He continued to surprise me throughout the week. While watching a veggie tales video, he commented,

"The Tomato went Splooooishh."

I asked him how he would spell "Sploooish," and he rattled it off instantly, the exact way I spelled it above. Come to find out, he is a phenomenal speller and reader. So much so that he was reading the Polynesian number signs on the putt putt course with flawless pronunciation.

Did I mention that he got 3 hole-in-ones on the golf course all by himself this week?

Danny did have one very large meltdown with me this week when he attempted to climb the rock wall. It was so hard to stand eye to eye with him and have him scream and kick at me. The patience of the Lord filled me, that is for sure. After his Dad and I calmed him down, we decided that watching a movie would be good. He sat and watched while I sat a few feet behind him and cried.

The Lord is good and has a purpose for the experience that I have had this week. I cannot wait to discover what it is.

Duct Tape, Urine, and Canoes make the world go 'round.

2011-06-10T11:16:00.005-05:00

I could seriously write a myriad of blog posts over my first week with families at K-Kauai. The sheer quantity of laughable experiences I've had this week is enough to rival the amount of TLC shows that feature families with excessive amounts of children. As much fun as articulating all of these would be, here's my attempt to keep it brief.

Duct tape has become a staple here at Kamp.

And yes, I realize that the prior sentence doesn't make a lot of sense if you read it literally. Imagine folding a duct tape into staple form and punching it through paper... anyways...

I work a water activity nearly every afternoon here at Kamp. In order to take off my shirt and display my extremely cut and largely attractive chest and midriff, I must cover up my tattoo. When kids ask why I have it there, I make up funny stories. I usually tell them,

"Oh, someone poked a hole in me and if I don't keep it covered up, I'll deflate like a balloon."

That usually only works for kids under 6. I told an 8 year old girl that someone scratched me and that I didn't want to get chlorine in it. This is how our dialogue went:

Zoey: Seth, why do you have that tape on your chest?

Seth: Someone scratched me.

Zoey: That's a lie.

Seth: No its not.

Zoey: The Bible says don't lie. YOU have a tattoo.

Seth: Uhh... ok, ok. You're right I have a tattoo.

Zoey: What's it say?

Seth: Jeremiah 29:11

Zoey: "For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Seth: Wow.

Yeah, I got schooled by an 8 year old with an attitude.

Kids can't hold it long when they have to potty.

My 7 year old friend Taran proved that to me this week. During kids night, we sat Indian style on the floor of the jungle dome gym and ate mystery hot pockets (Literally. No one knew what was inside). Taran refused to eat a hot pocket, chips, or the orange that I convinced him was magic and would make him a better basketball player.

He was picking at his orange when all of a sudden, his eyes got huge and he raised his head in a "That's-so-Raven" style motion and declared,

"I HAVE TO POTTY. NOW!"

*If you don't know what I mean by "That's-so-Raven" style motion, check out this video.

He then proceeded to initiate a countdown sequence from 15. Taran and I sprinted to the office to use the restroom. His countdown ended before we got there, but thankfully there was no blastoff. He made it in time. Thank God. I don't know how I would deal with cleaning that up.

Canoes and I are mortal enemies.

Seriously. If I could create a Mortal Combat game and its characters, I would be one and a Canoe would be the other.

On day 4 I was surprised to see my name on the schedule for a canoe trip. I don't canoe. I have canoed before, but not enough to teach families how or to lead them down a river and back to Kamp. The trip was called "Rainbow Descent." There were no rainbows, the descent was aweful, and I almost puked several times in my canoe.

My director dropped me off three miles upstream with 15 canoes. Families arrived shortly after. I got everyone a life jacket and paddles and sent them off. I was supposed to follow behind them and make sure they were doing okay and that no one tipped over. That was all fine and dandy, but I didn't realize that canoeing by myself would be so hard. Heck, I didn't even know that it was possible to canoe solo.

To summarize: It was hot. I was exhausted. My water was at the front of the canoe and I couldn't just walk up and get it because that would tip the canoe. I sweat through ever article of clothing I was wearing. I almost vomited from physical exertion and dehydration. It was literally the most difficult physical activity I have ever done. I was honestly at the point of cursing God, questioning the decision to put me on the canoe. The canoe was back heavy, so every time a breeze came or a motor boat sped by, my canoe spun around entirely and refused to correct itself.

Now, at the risk of sounding like the corny preacher who relates every life experience back to his sermons, I'm going to explain what happened afterwards.

I remember at one point my arms and shoulders were throbbing from paddling. I screamed, "God, help me. I honestly can't finish." Not long after, my muscles almost went numb and I went into machine mode. I kept paddling despite exhaustion and, after another 30 minutes, I finally made it back to Kamp. I think that it was the first time that I have ever seriously depended on the physical strength of the Lord to pull me through a hardship. I was emotionally, physically, and mentally taxed from that trip, but God strengthened me and pulled me through.

So, overall, Kamp is great. The families are great. Christy Nockels and her family are here this week and she lead worship for our staff. I convinced 40 seven to eleven year olds that I am from Yugoslavia and that I speak 7 languages. Life is good.

Peace, love, and pray for me ya'll.

Seth

Kanakuk Eksperiences

2011-05-29T21:17:00.002-05:00

So, let's just say my Kanakuk Eksperience has been a whirlwind. I want to share just a few brief things with you all.

1. I have never in my life been surrounded by so many watches. Its truly inkredible to hear the masses of beeps that stream from the watches every hour on the hour. Its enough to drive you mad. Any past Kanakuk staff kan probably relate.

2. This week has been tough. And for everyone who kalls K-Kaua'i "K-Kush," you are sadly mistaken. I've done more manual labor in the past week than I think I've done in my entire life. Who knew that kamp would need so mu(l)ch mulching and demulching and planting and replanting and uprooting.

3. The Lord has spoken to me (already) in some kool ways this week. At Staff Training Week its easy to feel overwhelmed with people, overrun by Kanakuk cheers and Kanakuk lingo and Kanakuk personalities, and to feel just downright lonely. BUT, the Lord reminded me in a strong, strong way that falling in love with His word will sustain me. He reminded me that when I feel lonely, "He is my everything," like Philips, Kraig and Dean sing in Revelation Song.

4. Everything that kan possible be replaced with a 'K' most assuredly will be. Hence the ridikulous title of this blog post... and the eksessive use of the letter K in this blog.

Peace, Love, and Pray for me, ya'll.

Seth

Oh Hey Caleb...

2011-04-26T08:53:00.003-05:00

I absolutely love my job. I never have any idea what is coming for me at any given moment. It could be a fire drill at 4 AM, room mates complaining about their suite mates smoking weed in the room, or even a simple request for a ride.

I've given rides to residents on several occasions... to the hospital, the mall, wal-mart, you name it. But Thursday was a new one for me. I took a resident to the bank.

It all started while I was watching Tosh.O. I swear I have "The Tosh.O Curse" because every time I sit down to watch it, I have to leave before its over. I don't think I've ever seen a full episode. Anyway, I hear a small knock on my door.

This particular resident is quite shy.

"Oh, hey. I was just wondering if you... I mean, .... I'll help you pay for gas... I was just wondering...uh... my bike has a flat tire... and I was wondering if you could...uh... take me to the bank."

A simple request, so I obliged. As we were leaving the university, he continued to give me block by block directions to the bank, whose location I knew quite well. He gave me street by street turning directions, calling out the name of the street and the direction I would be turning at each block starting four blocks in advance. Needless to say, I was chuckling on the inside.

I was in a time crunch, and I told him that, so when we got to the bank, he FLUNG the door open before I ever stopped the car and SPRINTED inside. Literally 45 seconds later he DOVE back into the car, and we were off. Fastest bank adventure ever.

After giving me directions back to campus and offering me gas money for the 4 blocks that I drove, we walked back into the building. As he approached his door and keyed in, he hollered out,

"Thank again, Caleb. Have a good day."

Yep. He's convinced my name is Caleb.

And I don't know why.

Hm.

LARP 4 LIFE!

2011-04-10T23:26:00.003-05:00

What a phenomenal weekend it has been. As I sit here and listen to the woman of my dreams sing to me through my computer speakers (that's Beyonce for those of you who don't know), I'm reflecting on all of the blessings this weekend was filled with.

Friday I played 4 straight hours of volleyball. My shoulders are really sore, but it is well worth it. I love hanging out with my friends Tyler and Blake, but this week I especially appreciated spending time Bo, Bobbi, Nathan, Megan, Tasha, and Tanner. They're always up for going and

doing something, which I love. I hope to spend a lot more time with them before school's out for the summer.

Saturday was the real adventure. After making pancakes, I had the pleasure of going on a bike ride with my great friend Bo Pratt. Our spontaneous adventure led us down by the river and eventually into Riverside Park. Two amazing things happened on our ride.

One: While pedaling our bikes down on the river walk, we saw a man pull a string of fish out, which is really pretty disgusting when you think of how nasty that river is. Another man was looking over his shoulder, and in the 2.3 seconds it took us to pass, I heard the man in the back say, with a heavy hick accent, "What kinda bait 'chu usin'?"

I never knew Wichita was so... so... curious.

Two: As we rounded the corner and biked into Riverside Park, I shocked Bo with something that he didn't know actually existed: LARP.

For those of you who don't know, LARP stands for Live Action Role Play. In LARP, many intellectually advanced people (which is a nice way of saying nerds) don their favorite costumes, wield their Styrofoam shields, swords, and other weapons, create ancient wizard names for themselves and fight... relentlessly.

As we pulled up, the had just stopped their large battle, so we decided to wait for them to play again. While we were perched on a bench, another spectator came up and talked to us about the spectacle. We asked her about it because she seemed to be an avid fan. She said last week someone got hurt, and when that happens everyone freezes, a select few drag you off of the field, and... wait for it... whisper a magical incantation over you, then you continue to play.

This was too good to be true.

So we stayed and watched. And let's just say, it did not disappoint. There were swords slashing, shields blocking, Thor-like hammers swinging, and poles swinging non stop. I think next time we go, we're going to make signs with their names on it like,

"NEVER SURRENDER, ALEGRA!"

and

"RA-RA-ROMULUS!"

and my favorite,

"LARP 4 LIFE!"

Next Saturday at 2 pm in Riverside Park. Be there and be ready to get your nerd on.

"Momma! He's NAKED!"

2011-04-07T23:18:00.004-05:00

So many hilarious things happened to me on my run today.

I made my way to the Keeper of the Plains statue in Wichita. While I was running, I got extremely thirsty. I remembered that there was a water fountain there. For a moment I felt apprehensive about drinking water from a pu

blic fountain, but then I recalled what I had just written yesterday about public water infrastructures. Silly rabbit...

As I approached the statue, I saw a group of people standing in a circle. I couldn't tell if they were praying or chatting. I've seen a wedding there on occasion and was afraid that I was about to run shirtless through a ceremony. I was relieved to find out that it was just baseball moms and dads talking logistics. I had the fountain in my sights, and when I got literally 3 steps from it, 5 tee ball players shoved their way into a line in front of me. I can't believe I got bullied/beat in a race by 6 year olds. One boy to the side just kept staring at me... I think he was jealous that I have a tattoo that doesn't rub off.

So finally I got a drink, then I headed down the sidewalk towards exploration place. All was fine, until a stampede of Kindergarteners swarmed onto the path in front of me. I dodged, ducked, dipped, dived, and dodged my way through them successfully, but not without being noticed. Towards the end of the mob of children a girl in a yellow shirt was gawking at me (she was jealous of my tattoo, also). She looked at me, looked at her mom, looked back at me, looked back at her mom, and just as I passed, shouted, "Momma! He's NAKED!"

For the record, my running shorts aren't THAT short. There's a solid amount of coverage. They're not those shorts with the slits up the sides that are borderline public indecency. Nay, mine are not those shorts you get from Dick's Sporting Goods. Mine are from the source of all modest clothing:: Target.

I kept running and when I got to the stoplight, I waited for the green. When the light turned green, I made my way into the crosswalk. Lady driving the black buick must not have seen me, because she decided to turn right just as I crossed her section of the crosswalk. She slammed on her breaks, averted collision, and did what any normal, middle aged woman would do: she pursed her lips at me.

Woah, lady. Honking is one thing, but pursing your lips?

Dang.

That's cruel.

The Truth about Bottled Water

2011-04-06T22:14:00.002-05:00

*This is a speech I gave today. I thought that it was blog worthy.

What would you do if your father died from dehydration in the desert while serving in the Peace Corps? Well, if you’re Bobby Boucher from the famous 1998 Adam Sandler movie, “The Waterboy,” you would become the most skilled water purification expert in all of Louisiana. Turns out Bobby’s dad didn’t actually die from dehydration, but because of his mother’s cruel lie, the Louisiana State University Mud Dogs benefitted from some “high quality H20.” As a first world country, we have an unlimited supply of clean, fresh water and don’t have to rely on a Waterboy for it. We have access to it directly from the tap and use it to boil our potatoes for dinner, to wash the filth off of our cars, to filter coffee grinds, and to surprise attack our friends with Super Soakers. However, the way that humanity as a whole uses water the most is obviously for hydration. Doctors recommend drinking at least 8 to 12 glasses of water each day. If a person were to drink 12 eight ounce glasses of water every day for a year, they would consume 273 gallons of water, which is equivalent to almost seven bathtubs full of water. However, according to USA Today, 16 percent of Americans do not drink water from a glass anymore at all; all of the water they consume is packaged in a plastic bottle and labeled as purified. In the same article, we read that 59 percent of Americans drink bottled water on occasion. These surprisingly high percentages prove that Americans depend too highly on bottled water as a main source of drinking water. Over the next few minutes I will inform you of the history of bottled water, myths concerning the quality and source of bottled water, the environmental detriments caused by the production and consumption of bottled water, and some steps we can take to correct this issue.

To begin, let’s look at the history of bottled water in the United States. Although bottled water seems like a recent development due to its recent popularity in the marketplace, it has been around for a long time. The research and findings of Professor Noah Hall of Wayne State University Law School show that bottled water predates the country’s independence. Records show that bottled water was sold in Boston as early as the year 1767. In the earlier nineteenth century, when glass technologies advanced, bottled water was made and sold to a large clientele. Bottled water went out of style in the earlier twentieth century when municipal public water infrastructures made tap water consistently healthy to drink. In 1977, Perrier, a company based out of France, launched a 5 million dollar campaign to resurrect bottled water by importing it from overseas. Perrier’s success in the market led directly to the 61 billion dollar industry that exists today.

This water bottle industry has flourished in recent history due to creative marketing skills. Water bottle manufacturers use scare tactics to convince the public that tap water is of low quality and isn’t safe to drink. According to the video, “The Story of Bottled Water,” by Annie Leonard, FIJI Water, a company based on the island of Fiji, started a campaign in Cleveland, Ohio to promote their product. According to the FIJI Water website, their state-of-the-art facility was designed to protect the purity of the water and ensure that no human hands are allowed to touch it. The advertising tagline that was plastered all over billboards read, “The label says FIJI because it’s not bottled in Cleveland.” Many Cleveland natives, including some prestigious researchers, were offended by FIJI’s advertising, so they decided to test FIJI Water for themselves. These tests proved that FIJI brand bottled water was of lower quality and continually lost in taste tests when compared to Cleveland tap water, not to mention that is costs 2,000 times more than water from the tap.

Several misleading myths surround the bottled water craze. Aside from their scare tactics, bottled water producers often try to seduce us with the labels placed on the bottles. Snow capped mountains and secluded streams cover the water bottle labels, tricking us into thinking that the source of the water is pure, pristine and natural. But guess where 25 percent of bottled water actually comes from? Tap water. Pepsi and Coke have both admitted that their products, Dasani and Aquafina, are both filtered from municipal water sources. According to the online article, The Facts about Bottled Water, 22% of tested brands contained chemical contaminants at levels above strict health standards, proving that the screening process before the water is bottled is flawed. Municipal water sources, better known as your local tap water sources, must be tested for e-coli, are required to provide information regarding the source of the water, and must produce regular quality reports. Bottled water manufacturers are not held to these same standards. One of the only benefits that bottled water can claim over tap water is that it can still be distributed even when tap water standards are not met.

Now that we’ve uncovered some truths about bottled water, let’s look at the impact the bottled water industry is having economically and environmentally. Let’s start with the production of the bottles. In the United States alone manufacturing companies use 17 million barrels of oil annually to produce the plastic bottles. That is enough oil and energy to fuel 1 million cars. Although that is a shocking number, what may be even more surprising is that only one in five water bottles produced is ever recycled, which means the other four line landfills and contribute to the 3 billion pounds of waste created by water bottles. Annie Leonard, creator of the video I mentioned earlier, “The Story of Bottled Water,” was curious to see what happened to the water bottles that she recycled at her local recycling center in California. She discovered that the bottles she recycled were shipped to India, where they lay in landfill-like piles until someone makes an attempt to recycle them. However, she noted that the bottles were not being truly recycled at all. True recycling would turn a water bottle back into a water bottle. Her recycled bottles were being “downcycled,” a process which turns the plastic into a lower quality plastic which eventually becomes unrecyclable and is added to a landfill. In short, she found that her recycling bottles were ending up in another country’s backyard.

Although some of these issues seem insurmountable, there are steps that you can take individually to reduce the amount of oil used by manufacturing companies, diminish the waste caused by unrecycled water bottles, and to save some of your hard earned money. You could join a campaign to bring back public water fountains. You could also lobby local politicians and urge them to consider increasing funding for municipal water infrastructures. At Friends University a movement could be started within the student government association’s GoGreen committee to ban bottled water sales on campus

On a more practical and individual note, you can commit to not purchasing bottled water. I will admit that for my first two years at Friends University, I purchased a case of bottled water nearly every two weeks. Over those two years I consumed approximately 1,500 bottles of water, of which hardly any were recycled. Considering this from a financial standpoint, I spent close to $250 dollars on bottled water over two years. This Christmas, however, I received a gift that has eliminated my use of bottled water. This simple machine is a Filtrete Water Purifier. For an initial expense of 30 dollars, I have enjoyed three months of clean, purified water straight from the tap. The only maintenance expense is the filter, which costs around 10 dollars and should be replaced every three months. With this water purifier, I will save over 140 dollars over the span of two years. You can purchase water purifiers at Wal-Mart, and they typically cost around 30 dollars. Another gift I received is something that you probably see me carrying around campus every day: my bright green ninja turtle water bottle. For an initial expense of around ten dollars, I now enjoy the freedom to fill my bottle at any time I choose, and it’s absolutely free. Refillable personal water bottles can be purchased at stores like Wal-Mart and Target for anywhere between 3 and 15 dollars.

Americans have become too reliant on bottled water as a main source of drinking water. The water is often of lower quality and typically 2,000 times the amount of water straight from the tap. Next time you consider purchasing a bottle of water, don’t be fooled by clever advertisement schemes and remember that 25% of bottled water is just filtered tap water. There are simple steps that we can take to solve this issue. Please join me in saying “no” to bottled water and making a personal effort to counteract the wasteful habit of bottled water consumption.

The Biggest Lie I've Ever Told

2011-04-02T18:45:00.004-05:00

I owe you all an explanation. I did something recently that was so outside of my character... something that I was confronted about by many concerned people. I misled so many people by what I posted... and the sad thing was....

I liked it.

I didn't just like it. I giggled all day about it. Go ahead and guess what I am about to apologize for.

Well... in all honesty...I'm apologizing for telling the biggest lie I've ever told.

Well, to vindicate myself, it was all in the name of April Fool's Day. Let me start from the beginning.

Step 1: I changed my facebook birthday to April 1st.

Step 2: I allowed 74 gullible, but well intention people to wish me the happiest of birthdays.

Step 3: Monitor my facebook closely and delete any mentions of April Foolery on my wall.

Step 4: I lied to the faces of some of the sweetest people I've ever met. To name a few, Sarah Stoeffels, Lacey Landenberger, Bo Pratt, Bobbi Ruiz, Kassie Welch, and Kayla Loper.

Step 5: My roommates decide to capitalize.

Step 6: We devise a plan to throw me a fake surprise birthday party.

Step 7: We remember, suddenly, that it's out friend Nate Johnson's birthday.

Step 8: Turn my fake surprise birthday party into a real surprise birthday party for Nate.

Step 9: Contact all people who know that its not my real birthday and beg them to play along with the prank.

Step 10: Have Brandon, my roommate, convince Bo Pratt, my very good friend, to "distract me while people gather in our room to surprise Seth."

Step 11: Bake a fake birthday cake for me, and a real birthday cake for Nate. Hide the real cake in my room.

Step 12: Have the entirety of Friends University Campus Bingo sing Happy Birthday to me (not in the original plan. Thanks Bobbi!).

Step 13: Lie, lie, lie. Seriously. I lied to so many people's faces. Even when they shouted at me, I kept my cool. I'm a good liar.

Step 14: Nate realizes that today isn't actually my birthday. We let him on the secret, but neglect to tell him that its actually a surprise for him.

Step 15: Bingo ends. Bo and Bobbi (who are still in dark, mind you,) take me to get a "celebratory 21st birthday QT drink!" Bo and Bobbi stall while the "surprise guests," 25 in all, gather in my room.

Step 16: I continue to lie to Bo and Bobbi and act like I have no idea what's really going on.

Step 17: Bo and Bobbi take me to my room, and follow me in. People are waiting with the lights off, and as I flip them on, they start a rousing bout of "Happy birthday."

Step 18: I act embarrassed, once again lying. Then I convince them that I want to capture this moment on digital camera.

Step 19: I sneak into my room, grab Nate's cake, walk out of my door, and start yet another, even more rousing round of "Happy birthday," this time replacing my name with Nate's.

Step 20: Nate is shocked. Nate is happy. I confess my sins. We eat cake.

Step 21: Bo and Bobbi, still confused, hate me.

Step 22: We enjoy cake, company, laughs. All is well.

I hope this exhaustive step-by-step list helps you understand just how intricate this lie was. I mean seriously, what lie has 22 steps? I submit that mine is the only one.

So here's my formal apology.

First, to the 74 kind and thoughtful people that wrote on my wall wishing me a happy birthday. I apologize for misleading you to believe that my birthday was on April Fool's day.

Second, to Sarah Stoffels, Lacey Landenberger, Kassie Welch, and Kayla Loper. I feel as if you all took the brunt of this joke. It wasn't my intent to exploit you, the sweetest people in existence.

Third, to Nate Johnson. Sorry for stealing your birthday. And sorry for the 25 people who sang happy birthday to me right in front of you. That was low.

Fourth, to the attendees of the Bingo Las Vegas. I rue the fact that I stooped to the point of standing up and acknowledging your congratulations in the bingo hall.

Fifth, to my future bosses, Sarah Jewell and GT. What an awful first impression this note must give you. I understand if you want to terminate my employment, but... PLEASE DON'T.

And finally, to the people I hurt most during this whole shenanigan: Bo Pratt and Bobbi Ruiz. I apologize for lying to you literally every second that I spoke with you yesterday. You are two of the most amazing and kind people that I know, and I'm honored to have spent my "21st" with the two of you. I owe you.

All is fair in love and war... and April Fool's Day.

I am Napasaurus

2011-03-21T20:43:00.003-05:00

I take frequent naps.

If I were a dinosaur, I would be the Napasaurus.

If I were a rapper, I'd be Notorious N-A-P.

If I were a beverage, I would be sNAPple.

If I were a collective series of children's videos I would be titled Seth's Silly Nap-a-long, in which I would appear on screen sleeping and would invite the children to do the same. (Available soon on Amazon and iTunes...)

I often try to limit my naps by a time frame. One thing that I've discovered is that when I have no commitments that demand my physical presence, I never wake up when my alarm goes off. For this very reason I've often been described as somewhat of a rebel.

The downside to not leaping out of my bed the moment my alarm goes off is that I'm usually more tired when I wake up. Another downside is that I find myself hitting the snooze button every five minutes for at least an hour, which sends my mind into a frenzy of jumping between conscious and unconscious. And in this in between state, I start to twitch...

Ok, twitch may be an understatement. I thrash. Sometimes violently.

For example, the other day I wasn't feeling well, so I laid down on the couch for a nap. The light from the other room was coming through the open door, so I went against my norm and napped with my face buried in the back of the couch and my back towards the door. At one point in my dream, I remember someone trying to take me into a room that I didn't want to go into. And I literally thrashed so hard in my sleep that I threw myself off of the couch.

Example dos: I was riding home from a long trip with one of my professors and sleeping in the front seat, not because I was tired, but simply because wanted to avoid the awkward conversations that occur between professors and their students outside of the school setting. Sleeping was great, then all of a sudden, I thrashed in my sleep and apparently appeared like I was reaching for the wheel....

I should've just "manned up" and had the awkward conversations.

Moral of the story is, snails have shells.

Didn't see that coming, did you?

The Lottery

2011-02-20T19:12:00.002-06:00

I wrote this poem because I was inspired, shocked and disturbed by the documentary about American Education System called "Waiting for Superman." An incredible amount of our public schools are failing each year. The few schools that are thriving have limited openings that are coveted by many families that hope to send their child to a school that can fulfill their educational needs. By law, these schools must hold a lottery to decide which students will get into the school each year. Please watch the documentary. It truly is heart-breaking and eye-opening.

The Lottery

In this case, there is no "I tried, but I'm just held down by the man."

Don't tell me you've done everything you can

'cause that'd be a lie. Spy through that child's eyes and into her soul.

You hold her life in your hands...

or in a cage, rather.

Families gather, awaiting their child's fate.

Their destiny determined by a bingo ball that rolls and falls

in a spinning wire cage thats being rotated by the "sage" force

that we call the law.

"The Lottery," the call it.

Such a deceiving name.

With it we associate fortune and fame brought about by number games.

But there's more at stake with this lottery that the couple of bucks

someone dropped on a scratch ticket.

Its a gauntlet.

Ten desks open up at the best school in the city.

Its a pity that over 500 kids applied,

simply to be denied the chance of a proper education.

Today, four year old Jenny sits among the masses,

peering through her square-framed glasses at that menacing cage.

Torment and rage hit her mother in waves as she stares at the stage.

Tears fall as they continue to call what seems like every name

except "Jenny."

The announcer's mic goes cold just after the last child's name is told.

Defying odds, Jenny's name is the one still dangling in mid-air.

Parents glare as her mother sweeps her into a hug and celebrates their positive fate.

She is unaware of the power her own name holds today.

There are no true happy endings, however.

The system is clever enough to disguise the heartbreak and havoc it imposes.

For over five hundred less fortunate families, their ferocious attempts at firmly fixing their child's future was found insufficient.

So don't tell me you've done everything you can.

'Cause it would be a lie.

The King of Rock

2011-01-25T22:58:00.004-06:00

My grandma is crazy obsessed with a couple of things. Beanie babies, Barbies, and Elvis Presley. She's dedicated an entire armoire to storing Beanie Babies, and entire room to holding her hundreds of Barbies, but Elvis is different. His memorabilia is strung throughout the house. My favorite piece is the clock above the entryway into the kitchen. Elvis' legs swing side to side to keep count of the seconds. Needless to say, I heard his music when I was growing up, too.

______________________________________________________________________

This month has been an insane spiritual journey. I woke up on January 5th and God whispered in my ear, "Seth. You are a new creation." This event has sparked a change in my heart. I'm being more intentional with the Lord's attempts to sanctify me and feeling the Holy Spirit's guidance more than ever. I have had the opportunity to have several really fruitful conversations with non-believers, I have revamped the Mancave Bible study and begun to take that calling more seriously, and I have even had the chance to give a Bible away this week and walk a friend through it. God is nudging. I'm responding. I'm joyful.

_____________________________________________________________________

One of Elvis' popular songs is "A little less conversation." In this song, the King of Rock is making some pretty racy statements about getting a girl to go home with him. Its actually on the verge of being creepy. But because he's Elvis, he gets away with it. He says

"A little less conversation, a little more action please..."

_____________________________________________________________________________

Recently I've heard God asking the same thing of me. Granted, God is not a creepy man trying to get me to go home with him, but I find his calling similar. For too long I've been talking about reaching out to the people around me and not actually showing them how much God loves them and introducing them into the incredible community of believers in Wichita.

______________________________________________________________________

Don't let The King of Rock's clock legs swing one more time before you leap on the opportunities that the Spirit is presenting you with. If you're like me, you'll find joy. True, true joy.

Hoarding

2010-12-19T22:27:00.003-06:00

*I've created a new blog. setholdham.tumblr.com. I will be posting on there from now on! Thanks, faithful few followers!*

My Dad came home from work the other day and told us all an interesting story. While he was tearing down some property of a deceased woman that lived in the country near town, he and a few other men decided that they would explore the house. He was definitely not expecting what he found.

Glass jars entirely full of golf course pencils

Giant cupboards filled with unopened bottles of spices

Drawers lined with little bottles of taco sauce

A gallon jar filled with unused bars of bath soap

It became very obvious very quickly. This woman was a hoarder. We’ve all seen the TV shows where borderline insane mothers systematically collect useless items, like their children’s old tennis shoes or the previous week’s newspapers, and store them in their house. I’ve even seen an episode of CSI featuring a hoarder. Its become a more and more well known issue. Even the word “hoarders” seems strange, like too many letters are pressed into too small of a space.

Sometimes I think I’m guilty of hoarding. I sometimes refuse to donate old t-shirts because they have sentimental value and rarely get rid of a pair of shoes because I never know when I’ll need to wear them. Yes, I realize that this sounds minuscule compared to drawers full of taco sauce, but still…

Then tonight, when my Dad was retelling this story, I wondered to myself whether it was possible to hoard thoughts…memories…experiences.

Do I cling to past encounters with God? Do I pack them awkwardly into a gallon glass jar and push it into the corner, never to use again? Do I line the hallways of my heart with old stories, so that just in case I may want to retell one, I can walk down and pull it out? Instead of replacing it with this weeks issue, do I stack my memories into teetering towers like those antiquated newspapers?

What’s to stop me from from formulating new thoughts? forging new experiences? finding new memories?

Towering and toppling stacks of old experiences. That’s what.

P-A-R-T-WHY? 'Cause I gotta.

2010-10-14T22:30:00.005-05:00

When I was a kid, one of my favorite movies was The Mask, starring Jim Carrey. Through a series of mysterious events, Jim finds a green mask that possesses this palpable and audible presence. The first time Jim puts the mask on, he is shocked and hates how it feels. It completely takes him over and morphs him into something that he doesn't want to be: a crazy maniac with no self-control. He immediately chucks it out the window, but his dog fetches it and brings it back. The farther the story progresses, the mask literally takes over. He can't wait for the next opportunity to slap the mask on his face. I assume that it makes him feel powerful... safe... desired.

One line is very revealing about the power of the mask and how much it controls every aspect of his life. Once its on, Carrey dons a bright yellow pinstriped suit and declares to himself:

"Its time to P-A-R-T-Why? 'Cause I gotta."

Why do we wear masks? Why do I wear masks? What do we have to hide?

We hide the fact that we're "different," by putting on the mask. We try to dull ourselves down and make ourselves more powerful, safe, and desirable.

All throughout my school career, I've been the subject of some sort of bullying. In primary school I did gymnastics instead of flag football. In middle school I did quiz bowl and cross country instead of football. In high school I did choir and forensics instead of football, basketball, or baseball. Because I wasn't like the crowd, I was picked on. I put masks on to fit in.

And starting college, I tried JUST as hard to fit in, but in a different way. I listened to music I didn't really like, participated in events I really didn't want to go to, and ran around with guys I really didn't get along with. I settled for a lesser version of the real me. I settled for shallow friendships and stereotypes.

In Mancave last week, we talked about what it takes to break the male stereotyped "shallow friendship," AKA, the guys who talk solely about girls, cars, and sports and play poker once a week.

It requires taking off the mask. That's the expectation.

Its so hard to take the mask off when it is so comfortable and "natural" on our faces, but we can do it... You can do it... even I can do it.

Let's break the stereotypes of shallow friendships, take the masks off, and walk in real community together.

I dare you....

2010-09-27T17:04:00.001-05:00

This past Sunday, my friends and I visited Westlink Christian Church on Maize road... and LOVED it. There was a guest speaker, Mark Gungor, who is an author and pastor from Michigan, I believe. He spoke on very interesting and abnormally dreaded topic: singleness and dating. I personally loved what he had to say. His sermon did many things:

It destroyed the unrealistic expectations that we have of dating and marriage.

It reminded us that it TRULY is okay to date, although most churches have indoctrinated the idea that we should put it off, and put it off, and put it off and pray for God to "deliver our spouse into our laps."

It realistically and practically looked at marriage and dating, while analyzing the social ideology that we must anxiously wait to date, which affects us and our future grand children.

It emphasized the importance of sexual purity before marriage.

and

It shocked me with information about happiness and how marriage wasn't made to make a person happy:: a person must be happy before they wed. If two unhappy, empty souls marry, its still the union of two unhappy, empty souls.

Listen to the message... I dare you. It has changed my thinking on dating.

http://media.westlink.org/message_series/iMarriage/IStillDo092610Gungor.mp3

Micromanage

2010-09-20T10:59:00.003-05:00

Monday - Wake up early, do homework, read, study, meeting, go to class, read, study, Intramurals, rehearsal, study, socialize.

Tuesday - Wake up early, do homework, meeting, homework, class, read, night class, rehearsal, homework, socialize.

Wednesday - Wake up early, study, read, last minute homework, class, Meads to prepare for Bible Study, Bible Study, Rehearsal, Homework

Thursday - wake up earlier, prepare for another Bible Study, class, homework, class, homework, night class, rehearsal, homework, socialize.

Friday - wake up early, homework, class, socialize, homework, rehearsal

Saturday - wake up early, prepare for Sale Vale Panqueques, Sale Vale Panqueques, homework, socialize

Sunday - church, socialize, one on one, work, homework, cornerstone, homework.

Repeat.

A friend told me the other day that I micromanage. Not entirely sure of the meaning of that word, I searched and found this definition:

To manage, direct, or control a person, group, or system to an unnecessary level of detail or precision

Certainly I don't do this, right? WRONG.

I've realized that I am indeed a micromanager, as seen through the schedule above. Some may even say that I'm an overachiever, which when I'm honest with myself, is a pretty accurate statement.

So what am I doing to correct it? This week, I'm making a conscious effort to underachieve and do less micromanaging.

Won't you join me?

Eclipsed

2010-08-27T23:17:00.003-05:00

He is jealous for me.

Love like a hurricane,

I am a tree bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.

When all of a sudden

I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory.

And I realize just how beautiful you are

and how great your affections are for me.

How easy it is to get caught up in the "just a sinner" mentality? We constantly analyze our behavior, single out the awful, and say to ourselves:

There's no way God could love me unconditionally.

Well, surprise.

He does.

I believe that recognizing a sinful nature and imperfect past creates an awareness of a dire need for a savior. But I also believe that when you remember and ponder on this, you can't dishonor the cross by solely focusing on the negative and disregarding the redemption found in Christ.

In 1 Timothy 1:15 and 16, Paul writes this: "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of who I am the worst. But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on him and receive eternal life."

Paul

* a man who slandered the name of Christ

** a man who hunted and killed Christians

*** a man who gained fame for his brutality and unabashed devotion against Christ

This man, who in his own words, was the worst of sinners, received eternal life from the Man whom he hated with all of his heart. In 1:15 and 16, he recognizes his sin, but look at what he says in verse 17.

"Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever. Amen."

He spins immediately away from his label as a "sinner," accepts his salvation, and lets the glory of God eclipse everything.

"When all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory. And I realize just how beautiful you are and how great your affections are for me."

I feel like if this song would have been written in Paul's day, he would have been screaming it at the top of his lungs. I know I would.

Remember who you are, where you've come from, and where you're going. But most importantly, please remember to let the glory of God eclipse you.

Unwanted Deliveries

2010-08-06T16:47:00.003-05:00

When Satan comes after you, he sends what seems like all of his minions to torture and test you. This week, his minions delivered me several unwanted packages.

My first package came on Sunday, when my boss unjustly criticized me at work. He dropped a box full of bitterness and resentment at my feet and left me to carry it all week.

My second package came Wednesday morning, when I got news of my grandfather's death. Satan sent a letter stuffed with death straight into my mailbox and waited for me to open it.

My third package came when it was announced that the funeral would be on Monday, hindering me from traveling to Houston to serve God's people alongside my dearest friends from Friends University. Satan delivered disappointment and confusion into my lap, and laughed as I drowned in it.

My fourth package came when, after leaving the donut whole last night, I forgot to turn my lights on. Satan's messenger (the policeman, haha) slid a 91 dollar ticket into my hands, and stiffly walked away.

But then, a fifth package came. And as unexpected as the previous drop offs had been, this one took me by complete surprise.

This unique package came when I stepped into the campus ministries lounge to withdrawal from the trip. I expected to just drop off my package of bad news, turn around, and walk out. But my friends had other plans.

They sent me the greatest package; one that outshone the desperate and resentful packages I received previously. Inside this package was a loving group of friends aching for my loss and sharing in my sorrow and disappointment. Yet when I pulled out the first two parts of the package (care and concern), hope stared me in the face and dared me to pull it out. And I'm so glad I did.

Words of encouragement flooded my ears, tears forced their way out of my eyes, and prayer and worship began to heal the wounds inflicted by Satan's messengers. A piece of paper that was laid neatly at the bottom of the box caught my eye. Three short sentences reminded me of my Hope that never fails.

"In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."

New Years Resolution

2010-07-13T22:27:00.004-05:00

Here are my new year's resolutions... ok. new SCHOOL year's resolutions. If you are a friend and do or want to do any of the following things, please feel free to ask me to do them with you.

I want to paint at least twice every month.
I will run another half marathon in the fall. October 10th, baby!
I want to serve my roommates a meal each week.
I want to plant something and grow it in my room. And no, I'm not alluding to weed.
I want to have a sit down conversation with every guy in my section in the first 9 weeks of school. *This is tough, but MAKE me do it*
I want to attend an event that I've never been to before.
I want to disciple someone this year.

I'm sure there are more.

What are your New School Year's Resolutions? What is one activity that you want to pursue? Please, share!

Hello.

2010-07-04T00:11:00.004-05:00

Hello. My name is Seth.
I'm a type-A personality.
I'm extremely organized. Probably too organized.
I rarely miss a homework assignment.
I'm in charge of lots of campus events.
My closet is separated by colors.
My food cupboards are separated by cans, boxes, and snacks.
I love a good agenda and often make daily to do lists.
I've had my life planned since my junior year of high school.

School. Choir tour summer. School. Choir tour summer. Graduate early. Move to school. Choir tour summer. School. Christmas break. School. Cancun.

Wait. Cancun's over. What's next, you ask?
Um...
ehr...
eh...
You know. I haven't thought that far ahead.

Last week I rushed into a decision and accepted a job in Wichita so that I could stay in town, work, and be with my friends. Now, I'm second guessing that decision. I do want to stay in Wichita. I do want to spend time with my friends. I do want to work and earn money. BUT, I do not want to work off campus during the school year.

I want free time on the weekends.
I want to go camping.
I want to host Sale Vale Verde (copyright Sale Vale Panqueques)
I want to do shows.

"I want" all of these things. But what does the Spirit want of me? Did I even stop to consider that before I took all of the necessary steps to pursue this job? Am I being selfish?

Hello. My name is Seth. And I have no idea what I'm doing.

Todopoderoso

2010-05-31T00:02:00.003-05:00

For my first Sunday in Mexico, my family and I went to church together... and it was amazing. If you've never experienced church in mexico, its a must. But, I'm gonna blog about what I learned.

Todopoderoso was a word that I heard over and over and over again during the message. And in English, it translates to "All powerful." The message was over the power of God and Christ, and how it is at work in us.

In the front of my Bible, just above where it says in large print "Holy Bible" I wrote this: "God is much bigger than the rules and regulations of this book. If we trap Him only in these pages, we limit his power."

And after hearing all of the preacher's message, I couldn't believe how true that really was.

In Mark 5:30, we get a sense of just how CRAZY Jesus' power is. When a sick woman came close enough to touch His cloak, she was healed. Christ's power passed through his cloak to the woman, and the first thing the Word says is that "Jesus realized that power had gone out from Him." Here, we see Jesus as a vessel of power... a physical power that by through touch, is shared with believers. He was so incredibly attuned with this power, that he knew the instant that it left his body. What an unimaginable thought. So, we see that God has power over the physical.

Next, we looked at Mark 4:35, when Jesus calms the sea with a single utterance. The disciples say, "Who is this man? Even the wind and waves obey him." Here, we see that Jesus shares His power through his words. All Jesus said was "Quiet, Be still." and the storm passed. So, God has a power that exudes from His words.

2 Corinthians 10:4 is my favorite example of the todopoderoso power that is in Jesus. It shows us that this power, though not used through weapons of force or destruction, has the strength to "demolish strongholds". Pause here, but keep this in mind.

Ephesians 3:20 says "Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be the glory..."

Ephesians 3:20 and 2 Corinthians 10:4 go HAND in HAND. 2 Corinthians 10:4 continues like this: "We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we TAKE CAPTIVE ever thought to make is OBEDIENT to Christ." What an incredibly powerful string of words. This power... this todopoderoso power that Christ exudes through his words and even through his robes is at work in ME... its at work in YOU.

Its time to start acting like it.

Lets live our lives IN this todopoderoso power... not only in the knowledge that Christ owns this power, but that it really, truly exists and works in us. Let's take every thought captive and make it obedient to the power of Christ.

Its incredible what I learned through a sermon delivered completely in Spanish, huh? Well, that's the work of the Holy Spirit.

- Not missing home one bit,
Seth

Drowning

2010-05-16T21:55:00.000-05:00

I find it disheartening when I go to church, and the only people that talk to me are the ones that I already know.

I find it disheartening that our preacher feeds us the word so incredibly well, but I can't seem to fit into the community in my church yet.

I find it disheartening when I'm asked to invest my time in the church, but no one from the church except the pastor is investing in me.

I find that I'm drowning in my own heart. I'm fully immersed in the messages, but can't seem to penetrate the surface with the community. I'm flailing my arms, trying to find balance and safety.

Tough, but rewarding

2010-05-08T21:23:00.001-05:00

I honestly feel like the words that I'm beginning to type will not do justice to the subject: My sophomore year at Friends University.

Last thing I knew, it was CORE week for campus ministries. I was spending sweet fellowship time with people I felt like I had just began to get to know. Some great and challenging things happened that week, but they lead right into RA training. Seth Oldham, 18 years old, weighing in at 155 lbs and standing 5'9" would be paired with guys all over 6' and most well over the 220 lb mark, some even in the 300 lb range. Why in the world would they respect me? I'm younger, smaller and less assertive. Needless to say, I was FREAKING out about how I would control my neighborhood. Despite my fears and hesitations, I was blessed with phenomenal room mates, awesome co-workers, and the greatest boss I could've been given.

August was jam packed with Residence life events, and the fall semester proved to be the toughest semester academically of my life. It was incredibly difficult and hectic. I remember looking at my planner for the two weeks before finals and literally being unable to write anything else on the pages. But, with the help and comfort of the Father, I trucked through.

I made leaps and bounds spiritually as well. My faith was stretched and tried by one resident in particular, one whom I prayed for frequently and prayed that the spirit would work in his life. The first time that I ever shared my faith with anyone was with Alex, my very dear friend. I cannot begin to express what I felt afterwards. I felt like a true servant and proponent of the Kingdom of God. The Holy Spirit definitely spoke through me that night, brining to my mind several scripture references that I hadn't studied in years. Christ humbled me that night, and show me the joy can come through sharing my faith.

Fall semester also included my very first half marathon and a New Testament Survey class, where I met one of the most amazing men and preachers I have ever met: Philip Wood. Philip challenged the class daily with short and inspirational devotions. He is such a man after God's heart and is SO led by the Spirit. Its inspiring. Philip mentioned in passing once that I should start a Bible study, which I belive was God's way of instilling that desire in my heart. One that he would carry into completion in the Spring semester.

Spring rolled in, and incredible things kept happening. Mancave, a men's bible study held in my room, started meeting every wednesday evening. The first week, I over prepared and planned to go through an entire chapter. After a glance at the clock an hour and a half later, we had only managed to wrestle over 11 verses. God taught the group a lot through The Sermon on the Mount, and taught me a lot about genuine friendship through the guys in that study. My room mate's and I got closer, I made new friends, and deepened the frienships that I already had. God spoke through me on several occaisions, bringing scripture and words to the front of my mind that I hadn't studied in years. He always fills me with the words to say exactly when I need them. Through this study, I saw at least 3 men turn and run to Jesus. I cannot think of a better investment of time!

Now, summer is here. I'm leaving for Cancun in less than 48 hours. Its incredible. I feel like I just signed up for the trip and got approval from my parents. This year flew by, and I know that this summer will too. I covet your prayers for my trip this summer: for safe travels, wise decisions, open eyes, ears and heart, and a Christ-like attitude in every situation. Thank you so much to everyone who has supported me and gotten me through this tough, but rewarding year. God has truly taught me what friendship is, and for that, I praise Him wholeheartedly.

*I'll try to update a couple times while im in Cancun!*

I'm a Boring Christian

2010-05-07T22:34:00.000-05:00

Typically, I'm a "boring Christian." My friends and I hang out, and conversation typically turns to our spiritual journeys and what we're experiencing. These aren't bad conversations by any means, but I believe that God can be glorified through conversations that don't even mention his name. Just because we're called to change our hearts and minds, doesn't necessarily mean that we change who we are.

God created me with passions, a sense of humor, and my very unique personality for a reason. I find joy by making my friends laugh, impersonating famous characters, and being a generally goofy guy. I love to go running. I enjoy cooking things that I've never tried before. I sincerely like buring myself in a fictional book and not leaving my seat for hours straight. I love having friends over to play board games. I think its a riot to sit around a table with friends and recounted our childhood stories. I think its refreshing to cruise with the windows down and blare my music just because.

Are these activities Christ centered? Not necessarily. Is my attitude while doing these activities Christ centered? Most definitely.

See, I don't believe that being a Christian always means going to only Christian concerts and discussing scripture or theology every time you sit down with a friend. I think it means living in the world, but not being of the world.

Have you ever caught yourself thinking that you have more fun hanging out with your friends that are non-believers that those that believe in Christ? I have. And its not because my non-believer friends do wrong things that I find exciting, or live counter-Christian lives, because most of them don't. I think its because their personalities are uninhibited. They embrace their bluntness, humor, and quirks. I think that as Christians, we tame ourselves. We don't embrace our personalities and uniqueness that God has blessed us with.

Its okay to be ourselves. Its okay to let Christ change our hearts and minds, but stay true to the way that he created us. We need to quit excessively worrying about guarding ourselves against conforming to the world, because I think the Spirit will help us win that battle. I think we need to quit conforming to who "The Christians" want us to be, and be who Christ made us to be. He has blessed us each with unique personality traits, gifts, and passions which all edify the body in different ways. Let's embrace them and quit being boring.

Bear Hug Me

2010-04-26T09:49:00.000-05:00

I don't have anything inspiring to say. No words that will flow effortlessly from the tips of these fingers and be aesthetically pleasing to your eyes. I can't formulate the perfect post to leave you pondering a great injustice or challenging you to make a stand. I lack the ability to move the masses. I am a broken and humbled man this week. God is twisting, turning, and for some reason, changing entirely my notions of school, relationships, future and friendships. I am worn out... In need of the power of the Holy Spirit like never before.

I hear people say "You'll push through... you'll be alright." And I know that this things are true, but every once in a while, words don't mean a whole lot. I'm not a person who longs for physical touch from friends, but this week I just need a genuine bear hug. Or maybe I need Jesus to wrap me in his arms, let me cry in his shoulder, and hear HIM speak those words of comfort.

"Seth. I love you. I am SO proud of you. Push through the rest of the semester, but keep me by your side. You'll be alright if you lean into me. Looking into eternity, your grades don't matter, you don't need to worry about your future wife; I'm protecting her for you. You don't need to worry about how you will make friends after college; I'm already preparing hearts to meet you, love you, and care for you. Never forget who you are in me. I love you so much."

Where your heart is your treasure will be also... or is it the other way around?

2010-04-06T20:08:00.000-05:00

Where your heart is your treasure will be also... or is it the other way around?

God, if where my treasure is,
my heart is also,
does that work in reverse, too?

I feel like it just might.

Because right now,
my heart belongs to you,
but I feel like you're giving my heart away.

And its not like your doing a bad thing, God,
don't misunderstand me.
But I truly believe that each member of
this incredible community that I live with has a very distinct piece of
my heart.

And if I believe that to be true,
and I belive the whole treasure/heart reversal concept to be true,
then you made a wise decision tellings me
"not to build up your treasures up here on earth,
where moths and dust destroy and where
thieves break in and steal,"

but to build up the treasure that I can take with me to heaven.

Which, in light of the last few lines,
is achieved by giving my heart away.

So God, I guess what I'm asking for is that
you help me continue to give my heart away,
to build up those heavenly treasures,
and to appreciate and value the treasures where my heart
already lies.

Perfect.

2010-03-13T15:44:00.000-06:00

Wow. What a crazy week. I think I've experienced every emotion under the sun in the past seven days. Sadness, joy, humility, peace, anger, frustration, happiness, confusion, pride... the list goes on and on and on. This week has been up and right... left and down... or however that phrase goes. Its been one of the hardest weeks I've had in a long time, but as I recall, the week before Spring Break last year also stunk the big one. That's when I was told that I wasn't going to Mexico for missions; no questions asked. If you want to refresh your memory on the matter, check out my post call "Heartbroken," from last March.

This week, God taught me something about himself. Something that I already knew, but apparently he wanted to break me again, which always rocks the soul. He made it a point to make me remember JUST how incredibly much he loves me, despite all of the craziness that the week involved. Let's just say, I cried like a baby... with three other guys present... and wasn't ashamed or embarrassed a single ounce. My God is good...truly and wonderfully perfect.

I'm coming with a pair of scissors.

2010-01-19T00:42:00.000-06:00

TodayI had one of the most memorable and meaningful experiences of my college life. Five of us friends loaded up and ran to party city, where we filled up five white balloons with helium and tied them each to a different colored ribbon. We all gathered around Paul's Pond, inadvertently one of the most spiritual and tranquil places on campus. As we stood in the freezing cold, we each took a balloon and passed a sharpie around.

We wrote down all of the things that are holding us back.

All of the things that weigh us down every day.

All of the things that get in the way of realizing God's love for us.

All of the sins that plague our lives.

All of our insecurities and shortcomings.

Everything that we want to let go.

And as the black ink began to take over the white area of the balloons, many thoughts came to mind. What if we had to walk around with these shortcomings, insecurities and sins prominently displayed and tied to our wrists for the world to see? What if we had to lug them around with us everywhere we went?

Well, thanks to Jesus Christ, we don't have to. We believe in a God that is big enough to cope with all of our hangups and insecurities. He tells us that his yoke is easy and his burden is light.

"My dear, dear children. Why do you wallow in your shortcomings? Can't you see that my wrists are bigger than yours and can hold infinitely times more balloons than yours can? And can't you see that my strength is your strength? Haven't I told you numerous times not to worry? The birds of the air don't reap or sow, but I still provide for them. And you, you children, mean so much more to me than the birds. You are my most marvelous creation. I am here for you, and I never let go. Let me take all of your burdens. Let me replace them with my words and my characteristics. Let me into your heart and let me change you. I love you so much. I'm coming with a pair of scissors to cut those marked-up balloons off of your wrists." - Jesus.

As we watched those 5 balloons float away into the foggy Wichita sky, we didn't know when they would pop or where they would land, but we knew that the prayer that we sent with them already met our Father's ears and he is working for our good.

I Complain... a lot.

2009-11-12T23:44:00.000-06:00

Ugh. I hate that I complain so much. <---- See that? Honestly the first thing that I wrote, and its a complaint. So many questions can be turned into complaints. A lot that I have said today are, "Why do I have to do this?" "Why is this taking so long" and "Who really is gonna want to do this." I hate the sinner that I am, but the more that I try to focus on reversing the sin that's creeping into my life, the more I become aware of it. And the more aware that I am, I feel like I do it more. Why is that? And people think being a Christian is easy...

Complaining serves no purpose. It doesn't build myself or my brothers and sisters up and it definitely just brings negativity into life. But sometimes I feel like we're wired to complain. Its in our bones. We can't help but to voice our opinions about the worst part of the situation we're in. Oh how I wish I could reverse that. I wish I was the person that could find the "silver lining" in every situation.

When we're happy, we complain about the world being sad.
When we're in love, we complain about not being free.
When we're free, we complain about being bored.
When we're alive, we complain about just how much our life sucks.

It isn't right, but its so hard to change.

Cord of 3 Strands

2009-10-20T21:11:00.000-05:00

So, a mere couple months ago I decided to make it a personal goal to complete a half marathon before Christmas. I missed my first opportunity in late September and thought I wouldn't get another one. However, my good friend Ellen told me that there was another 1/2 marathon in October, and I immediately started training.

4 weeks later my knees and ankles ached, my toes had started to crack away from the soles of my feet, and since I had been running in the cold lately, I had a runny nose and a cough. Cool.

The next week I spent resting and mentally preparing myself to run a whopping 13.1 miles... the most I've ever done. I was super nervous, but definitely excited at the same time. The morning came, I "miraculously" (and by miraculously, I believe by the prayers sent to my Amazing God from all of my incredible friends) I woke up feeling the best I'd felt in a week with a clear mind and clear nose!!

The next thing I knew, race was off. Miles 1-5 breezed by, and then 6 and 7 came. Let's just say that I didn't train on hills, and those were some KILLER hills. By the time that the 9-10 mile came around, all of my support group had to drop off because we were running through the Air Force Base and it was limited to strictly runners. The last three miles were the hardest of my life. I had never wanted to quit so badly in my entire life. My legs were pounding, there was a sharp pain in my heels, and, well, there was some undesireable runners chaffing (so is the life of a runner.) I nearly quit running at 12 miles, but thankfully my friends Tatyana and Lindsey were there beside me, almost literally pulling me along with them. When I saw the finish line, my heart jumped. Lindsey and Tatyana linked arms with me and we finished... together... without stopping... the entire race.

That's when I remembered... my life is rough. My feet hurt and I wanna give up all the time, but God has blessed me with an incredible support group to help me battle my way through this world. They pray for me, run the race with me, cheer on the side of the road, and link their arms with me to pull me along when I don't have any strength left. Friends: I am so incredibly thankful for you. Thank you for making the past few months at my new home an incredible experience. I love you all dearly and can't imagine running my race without you.

As one of my race buddies, Lindsey Alexander, commented on this photo:

Ecclesiastes 4:12 (New International Version)
12 Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

Memory Lane

2009-09-05T23:17:00.000-05:00

I love pictures. I love taking them, I love editing them, and I actually like having my picture taken, too. That may be who I have over 40 albums on facebook, almost 2,000 pictures of me on there too, and took over 700 pictures while I was in Europe this summer.

I think I like pictures so much because it captures the very emotion that the person being photographed is feeling. I have this knack for tagging fake smiles, so I can always tell when someone really isn't in a good mood during a picture, haha. And I also love it that every time someone wants to take my picture, I normally make this crazy face that somehow (in my mind) portrays whats going on with me.

Pictures capture memories too, so for this blog, I'm compiling some of my favorite pictures that I've taken, or taken of me, in the past few years! Get jazzed.

I did this for a project for my Roman's class.

It reflected a few verses in Romans 12:9-13. This one represents "Love from the center of who you are, don't fake it."

This is my friend Kenny and I somewhere in Switzerland. I love this hat and everyone always tells me how goofy it is when I wear it, but that doesn't change the fact that I love it. On my Europe trip, one of the things that I enjoyed the most wasn't just the scenerey and all of the amazing things I got to see, but that in the group that I went with, I wasn't afraid to be myself... hence the strange face, haha.

Ahh! This picture makes me so happy. I remember going out on the dance floor for the Homecoming King and Queen dance and hearing "what hurts the most," come on... with a catch. It was the techno version! So, the unlikely couple, Seth and Sadie, with the crazy pink hair, danced one of the best royalty dances known to man!

This picture captures one of the best nights of my life. I spent a weekend with Justin at his graduation. This picture is one of the few from that night that the world is able to see, haha. I love this guy.

Misty and I. Enough said. We're loco.

I love Natalie May with every fiber of my body. She is literally the most hilarious person that I know. Any day that I'm down, she's there with some random, outrageous, and sometimes inapproprate comment to immediately turn my day around. I love you, friend.

I want my children to be EXACTLY like this kid.

This is one of the most ULTIMATE suprise-face pictures you will ever see. We sprung the creepy/amazing head massager on Leeanne when she wasn't expecting it. Score.

Open Heart Surgery

2009-08-20T22:34:00.000-05:00

I swore never to be the guy that lets his guard down. I told myself that I wouldn't search for a girl, that I would let God bring her to me. I promised myself that I wouldn't fall head over heels for a girl at such a young age, because its outrageous to be "so in love" when I'm this young with so much life ahead of me. I haven't been upholding these promises to myself at all lately, when I sit back and think about it.

And yes, I know I just wrote a blog not too long ago about hating the fact that everyone is obsessing over who they're meant to be with for the rest of their life. But I think the reason that I wrote that blog, is because I've been acting like one of those people lately.

You see, I've had a crush on this girl for a couple months now. And I've tried not to like her, I really have. But for some reason, I can't seem to not like her. I know that may make absolutely no sense, and no, I'm not in love by any means nor am I creepily obsessing over her.

It like theres this occasional monologue inside my head that goes something like : "I should talk to her soon, but what if I tell her that I like her, and she doesn't respond. I don't want there to be an uncomfort between us. But if I never step out on a limb and say something, how will I know how she feels? Sometimes she acts like she likes me, sometimes she doesn't. Ugh. This is dumb. Just stop liking her. If she doesn't like me, then I feel like I'm wasting my time by pursuing her. I'm so confused."

Sometimes I wish I could take out a part of my heart. More specifically, the part of my heart that longs to be with someone and put it on a shelf, then throw it back in when I need it. If only, if only...

Realizing

2009-08-18T08:31:00.000-05:00

I'm realizing several things about life.

1. People change, sometimes for the better, and sadly sometimes for the worst. I recently got the chance to hang out with Dan Flynt, a friend that I met last semester. I'm amazed at how much Dan has changed over the summer, and just how much I can learn from him. Listening to his story over Hookah last night reminded me of the power of God's love and his grace. I'm excited for him.

2. Colleges like to make you run around. Yesterday, all I needed was a simple sheet of paper stating that I attend college at Friends U. So, I went to the registrars office, and stated this simple need. Lady #1 sent me back to Lady #2, who in turn sent me back to Lady #1, only to make her mad and walk me back to Lady #2. For real, Friends U, get a system worked out?

3. You can't judge a book by its cover. One of the guys in my section of Green Hall is a 6' 3", 250 lb football player from Atlanta. I was intimidated by him at first, but after talking to him at the community service project yesterday, I realized that he is an intelligent, funny, and passionate guy and I hope that I get to talk to him some more. I hope that I get to know all of my residents better.

4. Confessing my sin helps me overcome it. A couple weeks ago, a friend and I had an "accountability session," where we told eachother what we were struggling with and wanted change in our lives. God definitely showed me that I was not the only one going through this problem, because this friend had the exact same issue. I knew we were friends for a reason, and God reaffirms that all of the time.

I hope that God keeps stretching me and teaching me things. I kinda like it, haha.

Love-sick

2009-08-12T23:53:00.000-05:00

Sickness isn't anything new, and neither is love-sickness. Love sometimes appears to plague someone's life. The search for love can completely consume someone's life. People are absolutely longing to find that one person who can complete their lives and make this life meaningful. Well, honestly, I'm sick of love-sickness.

I think that a pretty common dream of college students goes like this: I'm gonna go off to college, leave all of my past behind and start over. I'm gonna find that perfect girl/guy, and its gonna be love at first sight. We're gonna get married and live a long, happy life together.

Well, I'm sorry to tell you, thats not always how it works.

I can't begin to tell you how frustrated I am that guys are combing through girls trying to find someone that will make them feel special. I recently heard about a guy that I know making a list of about 6 girls, and each time he lost interest with them, he would cross them off and add another girl the "the list."

I'm sick of everyone forgetting about all their other friends to hang out with their fling of the week. Its honestly disgusting. Sorry if I sound like I'm ranting, but I just don't see how you can ponder marrying someone that you've known for less that 4 months. Seems a little outrageous to me. And when you talk about her all of the time, and I mean all of the time, what are you going to fall back on when she isn't in the picture. Ugh...

Oh, and I'm sick of always being "philospohical" and "deep." What happened to hanging out PURELY to have a good time, take some stress off, and get in a couple laughs. More often than not, friends call me to hang out because they're pissed off and need someone to talk to. And, being the nice guy that I am, I always soak in all of their problems, and most of them (not all) even care enough to ask about whats going on in my life. Maybe I'm sick of always hearing drama because I feel like thats all that ever happens. So, next time you're having drama, instead of solely talking to me about it, for a change, lets do something fun to get your mind off of it. I like fun.

Steamy blog. I apologize.

Action Verbs

2009-08-07T12:44:00.000-05:00

When I was in Middle School, we learned ALL about verbs. We learned that there are active verbs, passive verbs, helping verbs, ect. Well last night, I was writing a list of all of the verbs that I wanted to keep in mind as I went through this year of school. They include:

Pray - daily, build it into my schedule and don't make excuses.
Rest - take some time for myself. learn how to say no.
Discern - decide what is "of God" and what isn't in my life.
Ask - the hard questions. figure out what I believe in.
Solidify - make myself a firm, and solid leader. judge fairly and unconditionally.
Revamp - do something new and make life more interesting.
Wonder - be curious and try something new with new people.
Create - something helpful for me. Posters, reminders, charts, trackers, whatever. Go big.

So, if any of you avid readers see me not doing any of these things, knock me around a little bit and tell me to get my act together. I might be mad for a minute, but I'll appreciate it in the long run.

You could've had a V8.

2009-07-06T21:08:00.001-05:00

So, recently Casey wrote one entitled "The moments I want punch you." This one will be quite similar. Thanks for the inspiration.

I need to express my desire to kick people in the shins sometimes. Its not that I really want to put a steel-toe boot to the front of the leg, I just wanna kinda knock them in the head like they do on the v8 commercials. So, lets imagine that these continuous "You could've had a v8's" are me bonking them on the forehead, trying to wake them up and bring them to their senses.

Dear you-know-who-you-are: I'm sick of this one-sided relationship. I put so much effort into trying to be your friend, and I get nothing back. I realize that living in different places makes communicating and hanging out difficult, but at least try. Im tired of talking to you and getting one-word responses. Its like talking to a brick wall. We used to be best friends. I wonder what happened there. And the funny thing is, we have more in common now than we have ever had. Please, tell me how that works. I want to know about your life and your struggles, but I can't very well see them when you won't let anyone, not even yourself, try to help you through them. I care about you, man. We've been through this before, but this time it feels different... and not in a good way. Dude, You could've had a V8.

Dear friendthatIlovedearly: AHHH! Can I just throw out there how incredible you are? You have so many things about you that make you unique, fun and a great friend, but for some reason your self esteem is so low that you don't even respect yourself or your abilities. I remember you coming back from that conference a couple summers ago. You were so on fire and ready to change things. You had friends that wanted to help you see that change through, but then he came along. And listen, I really do like him. He's a great and funny guy, but look what you did to get him to be with you. I wanna be your friend, and I can tell that you wanna be mine. But when you're not happy, its not that easy. You could've had a V8.

Dear myfavoritepersonever: I love the crap outta you, and I tell you that frequently. You have so much going for you: beauty, athleticisms, brains, a great personality... I just think that you need to go for what you want and not listen to what other people are telling you. You don't HAVE to be with someone. You can find contentment being single, trust me. Wait for the good guys, they'll come. You could've had a V8.

Dear person-whom-I-admire: Just go. Don't hold back. You could've had a V8.

Dear me: quit being so insecure. you're an average guy. quit comparing yourself to other people and their relationship with their friends, parents, families and God. quit trying to make yourself more like them. instead, make yourself more like the real you. i saw the real you come out not too long ago, but i know you like to hide it. you're afraid that they will judge you. go ahead, be silly, make some noise, break the rules if you must. oh, and quit trying to please everyone in the whole entire world. its not possible. you better get your head screwed on right before you head off to lead people later this summer. quit settling for mediocracy, you're better than that and you know it. don't let people push you around or let them press their ideals on you. figure out what you believe and why, but don't be scared to ask the hard questions and dig deep because you know thats when you're the most satisfied. don't put up another mask this year, because the longer it stays up, the harder it is to take it off. You definitely could've had a V8.

England

2009-06-30T19:58:00.000-05:00

I am so thankful to have a job that lets me express myself in writing. While working at the newspaper this summer, I decided that I would write a 6-part series over my trip to Europe. Here is installment number one, and you, the blogging community, get the sneek peek. Enjoy, and expect many more, very soon. PS - This picture is the London Eye

Eurotrip – England
On everyone’s bucket-list lies the box marked “Travel through Europe.” With countless thanks to my friends, family, church congregation, the Medicine Lodge community and especially my grandparents, Leslie and Carolyn Oldham, I now can cross through that very same task on my own list. Between June 12th and June 27th, I had the once in a lifetime opportunity to sing and sightsee in seven different European countries. My journey began almost a year ago when my choir teacher, Gloria Morford, nominated me to be a part of the Kansas/Kansas City Ambassadors of Music Choir through the Voyageurs International, Ltd. Company. This group, comprised of over 300 students and staff members, created music by means of a choir, band and orchestra. Over the course of several weeks, I will describe my life-changing journey throughout the many countries that I recently visited. My first story will encompass my experience traveling to England, and my time in spent in London. I hope that you enjoy these stories and consider making it a priority to visit Europe and cross through “Travel through Europe,” on your very own bucket-list.
After three exhausting days of rehearsal on the WSU campus in Wichita, I traveled to Kansas City in order to begin my European adventure. I was told to check in three hours early for our flight to New Jersey where we would take a connecting flight to the London-Heathrow Airport in England. After flight delays in Kansas City and a two hour taxi in New Jersey, we finally began our flight overseas. The eight hour flight seemed to last an eternity. Maybe it seemed so long because the food was mediocre, the seats were uncomfortable, and I only slept 20 minutes, but I’ll bet it was because I was so excited to land and begin making memories. Almost immediately after landing, we boarded our respective buses and immediately headed for Windsor Castle. En route to the castle, I realized that we were driving on the left side of the road. As if jet-lag wasn’t enough, they decided to confuse us even more.
When we arrived in the town of Windsor, we split ourselves into small groups and decided to go exploring. The small town was full of clothing shops, restaurants, bars, and other stores. We stopped just short of the actual castle to have lunch and watch some street performers. The castle itself was gorgeously built out of stone on a large hill and towered over the rest of the town. Small cars and the red double-decker buses filled the narrow roads while pedestrians and cyclists took over the sidewalks. I snapped several pictures of the town and the castle, ate a strawberry tart at a pastry shop, and thoroughly enjoyed my first experience in England.
After a short bus ride, we arrived at our hotels, checked in, unpacked and had dinner. When we had finished dinner and orientation, we set off for a walking tour of London. We walked through the streets and down to the Millennium Bridge, or as the locals call it, the Wibbly Wobbly Bridge. After the walk, we went back to the hotel and slept for the first time since leaving Wichita.
Sunday morning, we sang in Wesley’s Chapel, where the Methodist Church was founded. We sang all traditional songs for the service. One thing I found interesting was the fact that after sharing some exciting news or hearing a vocal performance, the congregation was asked not to clap, rather to say “Amen,” in agreement with the words spoken. Our first concert came about that afternoon at the Embankment Gardens. The British fans were all so excited to hear us perform. Some even brought flags to wave during some of the more upbeat songs. After mingling with the locals who attended the show, we set off in groups of 20 to explore the city more. My group ventured toward the London Eye, the giant ferris wheel that holds 30 people per cab. Its massive spokes and cabs (also called orbs) were visible from many miles away. The wait for a ride was nearly two hours, so we decided just to admire it from the ground. Next, we set off for Covent Gardens, a neat square that housed restaurants, shops and vendors. I chose to eat a delicious chicken and vegetable pasty there, a hand-held version of a chicken pot pie, and watch the street performer juggle. Then, we pushed our way through the walking traffic and quickly made our way through Piccadilly Circus and to the original Hard Rock Café, where many souvenirs were purchased. We then walked down to Trafalgar Square, home of gorgeous fountains, enormous bronze lions, and a statue dedicated to Admiral Horatio Nelson, who led the British to victory over Spain and France in The Battle of Trafalgar in 1805. The day ended with a cab ride home, some snacks at the hotel, and great laughs with new friends.
My last day in London began by meeting what I believe to be a real life version of Mary Poppins. This splendid woman named Diana was our tour guide for the morning. She led our group all around London, showing us the magnificent buildings of British Parliament, Stockton Yard, Westminster Church, and the enormous clock tower, Big Ben. We then rushed to catch the Changing of the Guards ceremony in front of Buckingham Palace. Diana pushed our group to the edge of the street for a better view. When the band passed by us, we followed them at a brisk pace, cut through a small park and garden area, and came out in front of the palace to view the other guards coming in. Their precision, poise and confidence were something to be admired as the guards patrolled 24 hours every day. And, as tempted as I was to reach out and touch one of the furry black hats that the soldiers wear, I couldn’t bring myself to do it in fear of being thrown into a British jail and forced to eat cold cheese sandwiches, a regular lunch in England.
Later in the afternoon, our smaller group ate at a terrific pizza place, and then walked to Her Majesty’s Theatre to watch Phantom of the Opera. The theater was decked out with comfortable seats, red carpet and several gorgeous chandeliers. Now, I had seen the Hollywood version of the show and knew the story and could even sing a few of the songs, but seeing the show live was particularly awe inspiring. The intricacies that the cast, crew and orchestra threw into their scenes made the production. The magnificent sets portrayed scenes and made them appear real and basically dragged me into the story. That show was one I will never forget.
After the show, we snagged a London taxi which turned out to be a thrilling ride. You see, in London, taxi drivers believe that they have the right of way, not the pedestrians. Consequently, when someone tries to cross the street while they are driving through, they honk their horns profusely and holler profanities out of the window at them. Our driver was no exception. He wound his way through the town and back to the hotel in less than 15 minutes, a sure sign of his skill.
Our time in London had come to an end and it felt like my incredible voyage had just begun. The buildings were magnificent, the people, despite the taxi drivers, were quite friendly and welcoming, and the memories are unforgettable. London was truly a treat, and our next stop, Paris, held potential to be the same.

Its a Colorful Life: White Fang, Lime Green Track Suit and Brown Chunky Bird Poop.

2009-06-03T09:55:00.000-05:00

Hello there old friend. I've missed printing small black letters on your face. We should do this more often, don't you think Blog? Today, I think we'll try for some comic releif to brighten this dreary and cloudy day. Sound good? How do we do that, you ask? Hmmm... Excellent, excellent question. Lets observe the past weeks' comical events, shall we?

So, my great friend Natalie May came to visit me for my graduation. Majorly good time was had by all. I don't realize just how much she makes me laugh until she tells me stories about manuvering around long horn cattle on the trip to my house. Well, whilst wandering through Wichita and showing her Douglass street, we pass this man in a bright lime green track suit, fully clad with gold chains, a neon orange bucket hat, and a walkman cd player. Green man then continues to basically pop lock and drop it in the face of everyone driving down the road. Huh-freaking-larious.

I went to watch my sister play in the state softball tournament in Manhattan, and had a great time even though they lost miserably. Both teams. haha. Well, after a nice trip up with Sobba and Casey, I decided to stay the night with Misty in the Long's room, where she informed me that there was a couch to sleep on. We have some fun eating at Applebees. Cliff calls me a smartass, i retort some smart comment just to drive it home, and then we head to the hotel. And, Lo and Behold, there is no couch. So Robin, Misty and I all shared a bed. Yep, its true. Robin, then Misty in the middle, then Seth on the outside. However, I might add that Misty and I placed a pillow between us to avoid awkward cuddling and to leave room for Jesus. We're brother and sister basically, so it was a non issue. Well, after waking and showering, we come back to see the TV on a priceless, classic, heartwarming, get-the-fuzzy-feeling-inside movie: White Fang. Haven't heard of it? Neither had I, nor seen it. But let me tell you, it was worth the watch. Check it out, soon please. I hope that this picture featuring Robin and Kelly Long will maybe give you an idea of my time with them.

Probably the best story of all, I decided to walk to work this morning since I hardly ever get to work in the GHP office. It was cool and breezy, the perfect day for walking. So, I packed my bag, walked and picked up a donut on the way, then went to the office. I talked to Doris, did an interview, then walked home. I sidestepped the sidewalk to avoid a sprinkler, and took the tree-covered road. My phone was in my pocket, and I desired to check the time. So I whip out my phone, see the time, and a wad of bird poop proceeds to fal directly on the screen of my brand new blackberry. I think the bird was sickly or something, cause this was no regular bird poop. It was brown/white mixed with chunks. Gross. This blackberry sadly must rest on my face for a long time to come, and every time that it does, I'll think of that bird.

Graduating

2009-05-11T15:01:00.000-05:00

Hmmm... This has the potential to be a strange post. I guess we'll find out.

So, I went to senior breakfast yesterday at church. A lot of the seniors that go to the First Christian Church were there eating together with their families and listening to Tom Walters speak and hearing the typical "graduation, moving on with your life, make the right choices..." jargon. It would have been all good, except I've already had to face all of those things with graduating early and what not.

I guess I should have expected it to be this way, but I feel really disconnected from my class. At the breakfast, someone asked me about how my classes went, how my grades were, and just about college in general. Then someone chimed in something like this : Yeah, except he ditched us.

Now, I didn't think that was a fair statement, but you decide for yourself.
1. I didn't ditch anyone.
2. I decided to move on with my life because I couldn't really relate with anything in Med. Lodge.
3. I'm pretty sure they survived without me.
4. How many times did they come and visit me at school like they said they would? Oh, right. ZERO.
5. How many times did I come back to visit them? Over 20 times.
6. How often did they call me just to see what was up? Oh, right. ZERO.

I think that if they want to complain some more, they should probably have some legit reasons to do so.

Anywho, after that semi-steamy vent session. I'm ready for graduation. Everyone is ticked because Joyce isn't speaking and that Mrs. Dohrmann is. Personally, I think D does a great job. It might be long, but its personal and she mentions everyone in her speeches. I know you won't read this, but go out there and rock it Mrs. D.

I would also like to add that I'm pretty excited for free stuff.

That is all.

Teetering

2009-05-03T23:23:00.000-05:00

I feel like I can't do anything right lately. I feel like I'm letting people down. Disappointed people left and right. It seems like I can't win. And I can't figure out what it is I'm supposed to be doing.

When I came to college, I almost expected that I would be the same person when I left for the summer, but its definitely the contrary. I've made so many changes, ones that I feel like are good for me, yet some people tell me that I've changed too much.

What did they expect?
What was I supposed to do, be a sitting duck?
Who was I supposed to liken myself to?
Who was I supposed to stray from?
Where was I supposed to end up?
Where did I start?

Where should I have gone?
Should I have gone at all?

Why did I have to leave early?
Couldn't I just be content with the normal?

Why do they assume that I think that I'm better than them?

Didn't they realize I wasn't happy until now?

Why can't they see things the way I view them?
What can I do now?
Don't they know that its way too late to change things now?
Don't they see that they should have spoken up before my mind was made up?
Why didn't they try to make me stay before I told them I was leaving?

Which way do they wish I would have went?

Why didn't they do the same thing that I did if they really wished that they could do it themselves?

Why did they talk about me behind me back?
Who was I supposed to turn to?

They expected me to stay. They expected me to be content. I was supposed to liken myself to them. I was supposed to stray from people like me. I was supposed to end up in the same place that I began, and thats in Medicine Lodge, the boredom capitol of the world. I shouldn't have gone anywhere at all. I should have stay.

I had to leave early. They just didn't understand what was going on in my heart. I couldn't be content because there were very few people keeping me holding on.

They assume that I think I'm better than them because I chose to move quicker than they did. They assume that I think I'm better than them because I tried. Really, really hard.
They didn't realize that ML couldn't make me happy.

They can't see the things that I see because they aren't me. They didn't say anything to me before I decided to leave, but decided to be angry with me when I did decide.

I don't even know why they talked about me behind my back. I can't remember causing they any harm. I didn't have many people to turn to.

I feel like I'm teetering on top of a mountain getting ready for a giant fall... I guess its only a matter of time.

Blurry

2009-04-30T21:41:00.000-05:00

Once again, just gonna let my thoughts rip. Here it goes.

My rear hurts from sitting on the floor of the Library. I'm really nervous for this Romans final. I hate that my laptop is so shiny that I can see the oil from my fingers on the keys. My legs are really tired. 3 mile run, tennis and raquetball all within 2 hours will do that to you. There was some tar on my vehicle because I drove through some construction.. it was really hard to get off of my car. And another car story, I get back from Kantorei tour, and theres an inch of water on the passenger's side floorboard... how inconvenient I thought to myself as I tried to figure out what to do. I like the sound note cards make when you flip them through your fingers. I'm ready to move out of 215. Too much drama for me.. and my momma. Genghis Grill was pure awesomeness today. Sooooo good. I love asian food in general. I hate precarious situations. I feel like I can't ever do anything right sometimes in some folk's eyes. I didn't shower yet today. Is that gross? haha. If it is, get over it. La Gallete tomorrow. Get excited. I'm also jacked to soon be working at the Liesure Time Center of ML with my Nana. Cookin food with and for old people. Nothing better. ooooh, and writing for the Premiere. I hate when my lips are dry, therefore, I think I'm addicted to Burt's Beeswax. Its like cocaine for my dry, cracking lips. That should be their logo. Some joker told me once that Chapstick puts tiny bits of fiberglass in their products so it cuts your lips open again and makes you use more. I like thats Baloney. Once in a while, I wish I could go barefoot. Its liberating. There are TONS of books in this particular room of the library that all say "Law" on them and look exactly the same, which kind of intimidates me. Also, this room makes wierd noises. Star came to the conclusion that its a ghoul or some sort. I wonder if places put signs that say "Emergency Exit: Alarm will sound." signs on doors just to keep people from going through them. I would do it even if it didn't have an alarm I would do it to keep people out of a certain room or area. Genius. I like sighing really big. Its nice. Ooooh, and I'm excited to bury our time capsule in a couple weeks, and for Natalie May and Justin to visit, and for graduation, and for Europe, and for STUCO camp, and anything else the summer throws my way. The particular way I'm sitting has made both of my feet go numb, which is a strange, strange feeling. I think its creepy when your friend's parents try to add you on facebook. (and your own parents for that matter.) I do, however, love friend requests. Oh my. I should study....

Calamity to Calm

2009-04-21T23:44:00.000-05:00

So, heres the deal.

Theres total calamity all around me. All the time it feels like. Maybe its my current predicament. I just feel like there's always noise. Always.

Sources of noise include: The Television. Someone's music being play WAY too loud. Hard core gamers yelling profanities at a screen, which they apparently don't realize CANT HEAR THEM.

I just want some calm time. If my surroundings are so stinkin' loud that I can't hear my own thoughts, how am I supposed to listen to what God is trying to tell me.

I think thats why I run alone a lot. Thats why every chance I get, I sit alone on the lawn. Thats why every chance I get, I go places alone.

I need to make a transition from Calamity ------------> to ----------->Calm. And soon.

Time Management and Patience

2009-04-19T02:31:00.000-05:00

Yes. I do realize that its 2:31 in the morning. No, I'm not crazy. Yes, I seem to be up for no apparent reason. So yes, I should manage my time better.

I always feel rushed,...overwhelmed with school work. And when I take time to hang out with friends, I feel like I'm using precious awake time (we all know Seth LOVES sleeping) on things that aren't productive. But, I know that really isn't true.

I know that by spending time with these people, I'm creating a community that will directly affect me for the next few years of my life. The people I hang out with are downright awesome. I love them. haha.

But, my very first semester of college is winding down. Only 3 weeks left and it flew by. Seriously, I remember being crazy-nervous my first day for move-in. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to place myself into a group that had already been established, but God proved otherwise, especially with the Houston trip.

I can't imagine myself at any other place in the WORLD right now. Friends is the perfect fit for me. I freakin' love the school, the atmosphere, the people and especially the Jesus I see here every day.

The only thing I don't like is when people come into the room basically yelling at 2:40 in the morning, which coincidentally, just occured. Great.

God, grant me patience.

Our Father...

2009-04-13T00:17:00.000-05:00

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the Kingdom, and the power and the glory forever, Amen.

Prayer.

The concept is pretty cool. Wherever I am, whatever I'm doing, whoever I'm with, whatever I want to say, God can hear me and my desires. Now, I never have been a faithful prayer warrior, and thats something that I feel God calling me to work on. I feel like sometimes, the times when I'm most desperate, simple prayers calm me.

But my delimma is, I don't know exactly how to pray.

I mean, don't get me wrong. I don't think there is a "wrong" and "right" way to pray by any means, I just haven't figured out for myself how to best prayerfully communicate with my God.
When I'm talking with Him inaudibly, my mind wanders to things that don't matter. When I speak my prayers out loud, I mumble and bumble my words around because I'm nervous. I don't normally volunteer to pray out loud when asked. When I try to write my prayers down, I over analyze things and sound phony.

I just. Can't. Seem. To get. It. Right.

But regardless of how I pray, I know that My God hears, My God cares, My God understands, My God moves, but most of all...

My. Father. Loves. Me.

And thats enough.

Here Comes the Boom

2009-04-07T17:01:00.000-05:00

So, in honor of the Houston trip reunion, I thought I would remind you all of just how awesome you are in your own individual ways. SUPER GROUP - plus some others. haha. Here comes the boom.

Paul - You're such an awesome role model for the men at Friends U. You know how to balance social life, your crazy-tough schedule, athletics, being an RA, and an encouraging and serious relationship with Ellen. You have been the coolest RA this year, and a great friend. I see Christ in you in so many ways. Your leadership on the crew and the way you treat Ellen exudes Christ.

Danny - I stinkin love you. Although I've only been blessed to play Ultimate with you once since we've been back, it was also a curse because I wasn't on your team. I heard all of the stories, but didn't realize how big of a monster you were until I witnessed first hand. I see Christ in the way that you love all of his creation, especially his animals. Once again, you're like the most rare animal at the Zoo, the one everyone hears of and how great and awesome it is, but never sees. You're a behind the scenes kinda guy, and I love it.

Gina - I feel like you're my sister, Gina. You passion for the homeless is evident, even though I've only been to church on the street with you once! You sat and talked, had some very awkward conversations about a man trying to blow up a school, but you took it like a champ and loved every minute of it. Its so great to see Christ in a relationship, which is what you have. I can't wait to get to know you better!

Matt - MattBusch(said in the special way that I say it with the awesome wave that we do). You've been the biggest blessing, friend. I love seeing you everyday in choir and out-and-about. You treat everyone like Jesus did, with respect and the thought that everyone matters. Keep being awesome!

Lindsey - BIG SIS! I love the snot out of you. Thanks for my meal a while back. It was DELICIOUS! You're the Queen of homemade bread. Anywho, I know that you will follow God and his plan for you concerning your trip to Spain. I love that you are so relient on him and don't need someone else to define you. I'm so glad God put you into my life, and can't wait for what he has in store for our friendship.

Tina- Hey girl, hey. You have the kindest soul. I know you're tough too, but you've embraced hugging like its going out of style. Listen - struggles happen, but God brings wonderful things and knowledge from them. I see Christ in you in your self-confidence. You love to be you, and I love that.

D-base- You're like my brother, man. I know that you're always there for me, and that you would do anything I asked you to, and pray for me whenever I need it, even if I don't ask you for it. I was so blessed by you and your prayer over me at the coffee house in Houston, but I never got the chance to tell you. I definitely think that you have the gift of prayer, and thats an awesome one to have.

Sarah - I love your attitude. You're always up for a challenge. Your kind, yet firm nature is hard to come by. I love the fact that you love your friends so much. Keep branching out and stepping out of your comfort zone, it will pay off. I see Christ in you everyday, just by the way that you talk to people. I've never heard a malicious thing come from your mouth, and thats way inspiring.

Lauren - I'm pretty sure you have the simplest and most loving heart that I have ever encountered. You brighten everyone's day by just being in the room. You're caring and thoughtful attitude exudes Christs' love.

Jessica - You have the most amazing grasp of what true beauty is. You see it in things that aren't physically attractive. You find beauty in experiences and emotions and relationships, and that is incredible. You have a kind heart and a soul full of joy, just like Christ wants for each of us.

Allison - I have never seen you without a smile on your face. You have the most genuine personality of anyone I know. Plus, we connect because we both come from extremely small schools. Who knew someone could bond over that, right? Thanks for always listening.

Rachel - You have the best listening-ears on the planet! Really, thanks so much for being there, being one of my closest friends, and enjoying my company just as much as I enjoy yours. I know that God has incredible plans for you, and I see Christ in you in this way: I think you exemplify God using the average person to do above average things. You. Straight. Up. Rock.

Amber - I love that you love life. We always have an awesome time together. And, you have the most ridiculous calling ever: Jr. High Math, of all things. You are so pacient and loving and nuturing. I can not wait to work with you and get to know you better this year! Love ya!

Parker - No puedo esperar para mis lecciones de guitarra el septimo ano. Voy a SHRED la guitarra. jaja. Y vas a ser un hispanohablante antes de lo conoces. Really though, I love your passion for Christ, and our spontaneous prayer for Lindsey the other night made me admire you and your trust in the Lord. PTL. Your dad had it down when he named you.

Wow. So much typing, haha.

Proverbs 27:17
Iron sharpens iron, So one man sharpens another.

Neverending Struggle

2009-04-06T01:10:00.000-05:00

Who am I?

Its a question that everyone asks themselves during their lifetimes. Its a question that humanity can't ever seem to figure out. More questions ensue, like:

What is my calling?

Why am I a part of this world?

A friend and I were talking a while back, and suddenly he asks me
"Who are you?"

Mind you, I'm talking to my best friend of 4 years, someone who possibly knows me as well, or better, than I know myself, so this question was a shocker.

I proceeded to list off things that describe who I am: A runner, a singer, a leader, a Spanish-lover.

Now, several months later, the same question keeps coming back up in my life.

I'm struggling so much lately with trying to decipher who I am, and what defines who I am.

Carrie Mills said in her Cornerstone once that, "What you do does not define you, rather, your worth is found in Christ."

Okay, so the first part kind of makes sense. Just because I run, sing, lead and speak Spanish, doesn't mean that is who I am. But the second part, what the heck?

How am I supposed to find my worth in Christ? What does that really even mean? How do I list things that I think Christ sees in me? Is that even what she meant by that?

This really has been getting heavier on my heart lately. I have a feeling that this will be a neverending struggle for me.

Its time I search a little bit deeper, farther, longer, harder,... more fervently for Who I am and all of the questions that follow.

10 Minutes in my Mind

2009-03-25T21:14:00.000-05:00

So, in HS, my teacher had us do this thing where we just type what we're thinking. It doesn't have to be complete sentences, just however you're thinking it. So, here's my attempt to let you into my mind.

I love coffee. This caramel mocha is actually pretty good. Some dude beside me is talking about Chris Brown beating up Rihanna,... random. Sometimes, I wonder what the world would be like without cell phones. Every once in a while, I like not having to immediately answer my phone. The world thinks that what it has to say is more important that whatever I'm doing at the moment, which isn't necessarily true. My stomach is growling because I'm thinkin about the delicious trail mix that I got in the Campus Ministries Lounge today. The Craisins are my favorite part. Its pretty ridiculous how little blinking things bug me. Like when it pops up on one of my tabs that someone has sent me a facebook message, and it blinks non-stop, its super annoying. I went to smoke Hookah last night, which was suprisingly pleasant and meade some people laugh, because I went with my boss for next year. Being an RA is gonna be pretty fun. Today at the Genesis, I saw four really nice trucks all parked backwards in the last spaces in the lot, and the first thing that ran through my head was "high school never ends." You know, we all have those kids who think their truck is the stuff and park it backwards in the back parking lot, well, the same is true for Adults at the Genesis apparently. My eyelids are so stinkin heavy right now. Guess who doesn't get enough sleep. Correct. Me. I can't wait for Cornerstone on Sunday evening. Its basically the Spiritual hilight of my week. I've been telling myself that I'm going to read my Bible more, but I find that easier said than done. Maybe I need someone to read passages with. Any takers? I miss my sister... a lot. And Katie and Zach too. I wish I was a better runner. I love to do it, but sadly I'm just not that great. haha. I wish there was a men's volleyball team, that would be pretty stinking cool, though. I'm angry with my Writing Teacher. I wrote a banging research paper, and she gave it a B. I thought, and still think, that it deserves and A. My black bracelet reminds me of Stuco Camp. Its gonna rock being a JC there this summer for a week or so. I want summer weather to be here already. School is stinkin flying by. I think there is only like 5 weeks left. Nuts. I miss HP Friends. Reunion? I miss Justin too. Long distance friendships suck. And long distance relationships. Why can't Kenz just live in Kansas? the question I've been asking for a long time. haha. Spanish is freaking cool. I wanna be fluent. I wish we had sign language classes at Friends. I would do that, too. Sad day. I should enter a belching contest. I bet I could do pretty well. I feel like dancing the night away some time soon. Holla. Concert next Friday, April 3rd. Be there, or be lame. I'm in an Ensemble, which I didn't even try out for, but its still pretty cool. I'm tired of typing. PEACE.

Raw

2009-03-22T20:57:00.000-05:00

These next 4 posts will be journal entries from my Houston trip.

Let's start from Friday, Shall we? Ok, lets.

As I was walking into David on Friday monrning, bummed because I knew the Mexicoco groups would soon be crossing the border, Preston Carrie and Angie were walking out. Preston quickly told me that one spot for the Houston mission trip had opened up and invited me to go. After cancelling plans with Shelby, (love you) I decided to go--------> Fast forward.

Sunday night- I got back to Friends, had quesadillas with Amber and Parker, made some banging dirt pudding, and went to Mike Cliffords for Worship and fellowship for the Houston group. We sang, shared feelings and verses freely, and prayed and prepared out hearts and minds for the trip. The most moving part of that experience came at the end. Mike prayed aloud for us all, but his prayer was passionate and sincere. It wasn't just spoken, rather it was almost shouted. He was praying from his Soul. He prayed that was for at least ten minutes, yet it seemed like the shortest prayer I have ever heard. I believe I experienced prayer how God designed it to be...Raw. Heartfelt. A cry. A shout. An exultation. A praise. A longing. A fear. A call for help. It was awesome in every sense of the word. -----> fast forward.

Monday morning - We get on the bust, and I shot straight for the floor to sleep. After uncomfortable attempts to rest, I suddenly heard Patrick screaming "woah, woah, woah!!" Apparently the driver fell asleep at the wheel.

(in high speed) turn around. back at Friends. Played signs. back on new, upgraded bus with new driver. Houston in 10 hours. Good stuff. Sleep.
-----Until Tomorrow
Seth

Heartbroken

2009-03-09T23:39:00.001-05:00

Sorry readers, the faithful few, haha. I haven't blogged for a couple-few days. Life has been crazy. WARNING: This could be a long read. I'll try to make it worth your while.

So last Thursday evening my parents called me and dropped a bomb. The Mexico Mission trip that I had been anticipating for so long, the trip that I am passionately collecting shoes for the people there, the trip I had my heart set on for months, the trip I was ready to enjoy myself on, the trip I was ready to spend some time with my favorite sister whom I miss terribly, the trip I was going to get tight with God and see all of his glory even through poverty, the trip that I was going to act as the hands, feet, and mouth of God, the trip I was going to get to practice my Spanish with the young kids during their VBS, the trip I was looking forward to catch up with friends from home, the trip I was going to be a part of something bigger than me... yeah, that trip... they didn't want me to go.

Since the drug and gang violence has been escalating in Mexico for quite some time now, my parents decided that it wasn't safe. Although I did some of my own research and found out that the problem wasn't really an issue in the area that I was headed to, I couldn't make myself go against my parents' wishes, even though many, many things were telling me to go.

Lets just say, Seth doesn't cry. Really, at all. And this night, he bawled like a baby.

I cried out to God in frustration, confusion, feelings of being overwhelmed,... so many emotions came billowing out through those tears. I was mad at my parents because they raised this issue a mere 2 weeks before the trip leaving me little to no time to make other plans. I was mad at those dang drug lords down in Mexico causing all of this stupid drama to take place. I was angry with the reporters that splattered the stories all over the news for my parents to hear. I was mad at everyone for telling me the obvious truth: that it really was dangerous. I was mad at myself for thinking that my plans could ever be set in stone when Jeremiah 29:11 obviously tells me otherwise (you would think that my tattoo would have reminded me of that, but it wasn't until after I saw it in the mirror that I thought of it.)

I was confused as to why God would let this happen when the trip was set aside to do his work. I was filled with rage against Satan, whom I felt was instilling fear and second-thoughts in the parents of Medicine Lodge about the trip. I was longing for my parents to think differently about the situation, like a couple of my other friends' parents who realized the impact that a trip like this could have. I envied my friends who were still going. I had so. many. emotions. at the same time. It was overwhelming.

There were so many things telling me to go. The funds for my trip came entirely from outside sources and from my home congregation. entirely. and they came in so quickly that I didn't even have to think about paying for any of the trip on my own. My friend Megan and I were set to collect shoes to give to the shoeless people in Mexico because something so little really would make their life better. My passion for this trip was unparalleled to the last two times I had been, and it was apparent.

After wrestling with God over the pros and cons of going...after arguing with my famliy about God's will for man and my role in the group going... and after kicking myself at the thought of missing the BEST fish tacos known to man, I decided not to go. I think now I know the true feeling of a broken heart... and lets just say... it sucks.

My role in this mission trip NOW is to pray constantly for those who are so blessed to go. To pray that they use their time wisely and make a positive impact for God and his followers. Oh, and I'm still taking shoes if you want to bring them by my room before Wednesday, that would be a giant blessing to me and the Mexican people. Thanks for letting me plug my own humanitarian effort. I sound like Bono. bahaha.

On a somewhat lighter and less bitter note, I wanna blog about what I got out of the Cornerstone last night.

Carrie was talking about what heaven would be like for each one of us, and that she believed there was a room made entirely of marble awaiting everyone in heaven. And in those marble rooms were picture frames. The frames were no ordinary frames, they were scattered about the room and hung everywhere. There was a picture of everyone you had ever made an impact on in your entire life, good or bad, hanging somewhere in the room.

And when you went and touched each individual picture, the picture would jump out of the frame and describe to you how you impacted their life.

And after she said that, I got to thinking...What will people say about me when I'm gone? Will they have more good than bad to say? Will they have any good to say? WHO all would be in my room? Who all have I impacted or made an impression on that lasts.. that sticks around.

So I guess the point of this last part is kind of just to reflect on my life. What I have done, who I have impacted, who has impacted me, and whether it was a good or bad influence I made. If you haven't ever considered that, I urge you to do just that. Its pretty crazy what God reveals to you when you do.

Well, thanks for listening to my never-ending rambling monolaug (spelling?). I'm sure it was the thrill of your life. haha. Until next time...

Cerebral Slushies

2009-03-04T14:11:00.000-06:00

I. Hate. Playing. Videogames.

With a passion.

I think that my hatred spurred from not being able to play Donkey Kong on the N64 without getting sick to my stomach. In fact, I know thats what it is.

Another thing I despise is when all that my friends do is game. It. Makes. Me. Wanna. Strangle. Something. haha. I wake up, go to class, and when I come back, everyone is the room is playing some video game, mostly Call of Duty 4. I leave to work out, grab some coffee, do some homework, and many times when I return, they are STILL playing the same game. Every night when I got to sleep, my roomie is playing X-box live until the wee hours of the morning.

And, when someone plays X-Box LIVE, or COD for that matter, it seems to always be coupled with talking loudly through your headpeace to your partner or yelling profanities if someone kills you.

Don't get me wrong, I love the roomies. They're all cool guys, but someday, I think that their brains just might turn into Cerebral Slushies on account of all the time spent droning in front of the TV screen. Sounds delicious, right?

Heath Bars and Falafal

2009-03-01T14:57:00.000-06:00

So, as many of you know, my favorite sister and I are fasting from meat this year for Lent. My thinking about this is that since Jesus gave up food entirely for 40 days, I think that giving up meat could possibly give me a small insight into what Jesus went through.

So while Shelby came and visited me today, we went to Bella Luna Cafe over on Maize road. We decided to try the Falafal aka a Veggie Burger. Both of us were nervous, because lets face it. Veggie burgers don't exactly have a good reputation. Its kind of like knock-off Oakleys, or some cheapie Spongebob Mp3 player (thats right sister, I just went there), it sounds like a good deal, but the glasses don't fit right, the Mp3 player only holds 15 songs, or the Veggie burger is bland in your mouth leaving you begging for water.

But, in all actuality, the veggie burger...... was...... SO GOOD! I will definitely be getting another one, except it was giant, so I think it will work for two meals, and it was less than $7. SCORE.

And yes, I realize that my title is arbitrary and misleading, however, Heath bar somewhat pertains to this blog. While at Winterjam '09, possibly THE best concert I have EVER attended, my friend Casey Long and I stuck around to actually meet Brandon Heath, my favorite artist of the evening by far.

After purchasing his blue shirt, which is amazingly comfortable, we stood in line for a good 30 minutes to get his autograph and a picture with him. Mission accomplished.

So, enjoy the pic of Brandon Heath and I, be envoius of my autographed T-shirt, and go out and try a veggie burger.

Mocha-frocha-locha-chocha-latties.

2009-02-27T14:03:00.000-06:00

I have recently fallen in love with Meads Corner Coffee Shop.

We kind of have a love affair. Its a no-win relationship for me, though.

You see, I walk in the door, I grab a seat, unfold my laptop, then make a beeline for the coffee counter. I then proceed to order either a Frozen White Chocolate Mocha, a piping hot White Chocolate Mocha, and or a raspberry scone.

I don't even like coffee that much. I think its just the atmosphere.

When I order my coffee, the baristas are always so nice. They asked whats up and how its going, and they're just all around friendly. Then I get my coffee, go to my seat and do my homework or read my book.

I. Love. It.

But, It. Takes. All. Of. My. Spare. Money.

I can't win. haha.

You're a mean one, Mr. Bart.

2009-02-26T13:38:00.000-06:00

Being made fun of isn't a new concept to me.

You see, when I was little, I was just a little bit different than all of the other guys. I did gymnastics. Now, I know what you're thinking. Gymnastics? Thats freakin sweet! Thats like a hidden talent! In all actuality, it was fun. I did it for 8 years, so I must have liked it.

Well while I tumbled across the floor and did crazy-cool ninja flips, all of my other guy "friends" were playing football. And, needless to say, as 3rd graders, the kid who did gymnastics was the focus of the teasing. Apparently, in a grade school mind, any boy that did gymnastics was "gay." I remember two boys especially who loved that word. Being called that was an everyday experience. And nearly every day, I cried because of it.

Fast forward. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Junior high. I think that we can all agree that this is the single most socially awkward time for anyone. During my junior high years, I really didn't have many friends. The friends I did have didn't really like me, and they made jokes about me behind my back. I wasn't a very good athlete, yet I was one of the smartest kids in the class, therefore, I was given the "nerd" title. Yet, another instance of me being made fun of.

Fast Forward. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

High School. QUOTE--The best times of our lives--UNQUOTE. haha. not so much.

My freshman year was the only year I actually enjoyed in high school. The summer before, I really started hanging out with Misty, a senior, who soon became my best friend. We had a great year together, and then she graduated and left me. sad day. My freshman year, however, I had a run-in with a teacher named Mr. Edwards. This balding, beer-bellied fellow from Washington was my creative writing teacher as well as my track coach. This man did more than tease me or poke fun. This man actually hated me. He told me so to my face. He based his hate on the fact I had friends that were Seniors in high school. He told me that freshman should be looked upon as scum and that we shouldn't have friends who were the top-dog seniors. This man even went as far as telling me to my face that he hated me. He used those exact words, even.

Sophomore and Junior year weren't much better. The only sport I did was cross country, which I wasn't any good at. I did, however, excel at Forensics. Now, in the minds of most high school students, if you were a guy who did forensics, you weren't cool. That made me, once again, the object of embarrasment among my peers. Needless to say, Sophomore and Junior year weren't happy times.

Fast Forward. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

College. Woot Woot. I love Friends U. No lie. Some people think that even if I wasn't happy here, I would still tell everyone that I was just to avoid the drama. But thats not the case. I really do love it. Today, however, was a different story.

This morning, I got up, showered, and put my clothes on. I put on my black and white Hurley shorts, a black T-shirt, and my black and white Toms. Pretty typical clothing for me. After my faith and learning class, I trotted down the two flights of stairs and headed towards my next classroom. I held my books in my arms, well, kinda like the statue of liberty holds the books, right? Like a normal student would hold their books... or so I thought.

Standing right outside of the room was one of my classmates, and for the sake of this blog, I'll use the surname Bart. Bart watched me walk down the hallway, and just as I reached him, he made a scoffing noise and said to me: Seth, why don't you carry your books down by your side. You look kinda like a girl. I was kind of taken off guard by Bart's statement, and as some sort of defensive statement, I said : I really don't care what you think, Bart.

For the next few minutes, I sat there thinking about what Bart had said. I couldn't help but feel some resentment towards him. I honestly wanted to leap out of my seat and smoke him in the face. I don't know what it was. Maybe it was just the way he said it. Like he was better than me. Like the way he carries his books is better, more appropriate than the way I carry mine. Pretty ridiculous, right?

Not twenty mintues later, Bart opens up his mouth again and says: Seth, you dress kinda funny.

Not again. The blood rushed to my head and my ears got hot. I retorted with: hey, thanks Bart. I think you dress kinda funny too. I mean, you do have a Bob Marley shirt on.

I immediately regretted saying that. Just because he was being a jerk to me, didn't mean I had to be mean to Bart. ugh. I'm just as low as he is.

Then, during some of the classroom discussion, My friend (another surname) Vickie was talking about how adults, when making decisions about schools, didn't really keep the students' needs in mind. I immediately agreed by saying : So true. A common phrase in my everyday vocabulary.

Bart looks directly at me, flips his wrist to suggest homosexuality, and and mocks me by saying : So true.

UGH.

When some people hear the word cruel, their throughts go directly to animal abuse, war crimes, genocide... But rarely when people hear the word 'cruel' do they think of teasing, bullying, being publicly humiliated... They consider the word 'cruel' to be too extreme to describe those situations. Maybe the word 'mean' would be more appropriate.

But what if we replaced those words with 'cruel'?

"Mom! Tommy won't quit being cruel to me. He's saying that his toy is better than mine!"

"I saw two of the high school guys being cruel to another one of the kids. Its such a shame."

"One of the people in the group was cruelly humiliated by one of his friends in the group."

I know for me, bullying, teasing and being publicly humiliated has ruined a lot of my trust in humanity.

Maybe, just maybe, someday I'll be brave enough to take a stand against Cruelty. I hope that day comes soon, because I definitely know how it feels.

dirty feet

2009-02-25T22:01:00.000-06:00

This evening I went to an Ash Wednesday service at a really small church here in Wichita. Our chairs were seated in a square and about 20 people were there. The youth ran the service and did an awesome job. My friends and I all walked in an sat on the same row. Just as the service was starting, an older man and his family walked in.

He was wearing old and worn clothes, a stocking hat and had a grey beard. I'm ashamed to say that the first thing that ran through my head went something like this: life must be hard for him. is he homeless?

Then, his daughter I think went to pray and kneeled on the alter. Her feet were hanging off the edge and I caught a glimpse of them. Her feet were covered in dirt and the first thing that ran through my head went something like this: how sad.

Then I caught a glimpse of her children running around behind us and their faces were dirty and sadly, I thought : I wonder what their home life is like? Surely nothing like mine.

Does that make me a terrible person? To assume that he was homeless just because his clothes were the same as mine, just because his beard was scraggly, just because I've been taught my whole life that "people like him" are homeless? Am I any better this his daughter and her children who had smudged faces because my clothes, feet and face were clean?

When we first came in to the church, a small sheet of paper was sitting in our seat. It had a list of 5 suggestions for something to fast on for Lent. It had these.

Fast from complaining; Feast on appreciation.

Fast from unrelenting pressures; Feast on unceasing prayers.

Fast from self-concern; Feast on compassion for others.

Fast from discouragement; Feast on hope.

Fast from thoughts that weaken; Feast on promises that inspire.

My favorite word on that list is compassion.

Instead of judging them, why can't I put myself in their shoes?

Why can't I can't picture myself in a scraggly beard, torn up clothes and stocking hat? Why can't I picture myself with dirty feet? Why can't I picture myself with dirty clothes and smudges on my face?

I'm too comfortable with who I am to "put myself in their shoes." Not anymore. Becoming aware of the needs of others, which in turn makes you want to somehow help alleviate that suffering? Whats that all about? How do I help to end the suffering? If helping out people with dirty feet and scraggly clothes would make them more like me, would that even be a good thing? What if they're closer to God than I could ever imagine? What if, in all actuality, they are a better person than me? What if I'm the one that they look on with pity and compassion?

Compassion is a hard thing to grasp. A hard thing to discover for the first time. A difficult feeling to feel.

I think I have, though.

I wish more people could.