A new look at things

The reason I brought you here today is to see a few pictures that I've taken recently now that I'm back home, and not on campus. Let me know what you think!

More to come soon! Thanks for following me and my journey. I appreciate it. 

Just Perfect

I'm just going to go out and say it: 

I'm thankful for my life, those who are in it with me, and everything else about my life at the current moment.

I'm sorry––now that the cliché and obligatory Thanksgiving comment is out of the way, let me tell you why it is amazing the way my life is working out and how lucky I am to be the one living it. 

My parents have worked so hard for me and my brother. They have worked their careers with the sole goal of sending me and my brother to college so that we can be successful adults with steady careers. I do not always appreciate what an impact their efforts have on my life as it is now. 

This week I have seen how despite distance, relationships, college, and stress, I have remained close with my greatest high school friends––friends that have been here through everything, putting up with my drama, annoyances, and humor. I am a lucky guy to have as many funny, similarly interested, and genuine friends as I do. They have had many opportunities to jump ship and upgrade friend models, yet they still keep me around; I think I will keep them around too. 

My University is the best "God-thing" that has happened in my life in a long while. I have had my eye on Taylor since about early Junior year, seeing it as a solid, realistic option for me to get a great, edifying education in preparation for medical school. I was able to get some helpful scholarship money, and I was admitted to the Honors Guild. Taking that for granted would be a foolish mistake.  

I also saw God's hand shut the door of a college that I was considering at the same as Taylor, not only showing me that I couldn't be admitted to this school due to an application process error, but that I shouldn't be admitted there. I wasn't meant for that school. 

I love everything about my school. I have really grown to appreciate the positive, genuine environment there. It is easy to grow spiritually, to be involved, and to build my basis of knowledge. I am learning more about God on a practical level, and more than I knew I wanted to know on an academic level. I am understanding the principles of science and biology through many different lenses, allowing me to be diverse, cultured, and adaptable in this modern world. I am also growing in other non-vocational ways, broadening my interests and talents, becoming more of a Renaissance Man. 

Now wait, cut the crap. 

This sounds like a college admissions website pitch. 

But that's the point.

I really do feel all of this. I am learning so much about the world and philosophy and everything good that God made. I feel so at home there with all of the interesting and great people. God has put me in this perfect, admissions-website-pitch life. 

How can I repay him? 

Redeeming and application.

Using the life I am building through God's provision, I can build a base of knowledge, connections, and experience to do more for God in the future. I can flourish, redeeming the culture around me in my sphere of influence. "Do the next right thing," to quote one of my philosophy professors. I can take my experience and apply it to bigger purposes. 

I look forward to working. I am thankful for the provisions before me. I hope you see the value behind God's hand. I am realizing it more each day, trying never to take it for granted.  

Now, I ask you: What are you doing with your provisions? Your life circumstances are as they are for good reason. There is much to be thankful for. I hope you have lived your Thanksgiving day with that in mind, not the volume of turkey you can afford to eat so that you can eat two slices of pie. 

Come Far With Me

I bring you, tonight, one of my favorite poems. See and taste that Frost is good. 

"A Line-Storm Song" – Robert Frost

The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift, 

The road is forlorn all day, 

Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift, 

And the hoof-prints vanish away. 

The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee,

Expend their bloom in vain. 

Come over the hills and far with me, 

And be my love in the rain. 

The birds have less to say for themselves 

In the wood-world’s torn despair

Than now these numberless years the elves, 

Although they are no less there: 

All song of the woods is crushed like some 

Wild, easily shattered rose. 

Come, be my love in the wet woods; come,

Where the boughs rain when it blows. 

There is the gale to urge behind 

And bruit our singing down, 

And the shallow waters aflutter with wind 

From which to gather your gown.

What matter if we go clear to the west, 

And come not through dry-shod? 

For wilding brooch shall wet your breast 

The rain-fresh goldenrod. 

Oh, never this whelming east wind swells

But it seems like the sea’s return 

To the ancient lands where it left the shells 

Before the age of the fern; 

And it seems like the time when after doubt 

Our love came back amain.

Oh, come forth into the storm and rout 

And be my love in the rain.

Melancholic Appreciation –– Something Good For You

There's something about a melancholy mood. 

Half of the time when in the midst of a forlorn emotional state, I want to escape. 

Half the time I seek out tasks and environments to dunk me further into my melancholy. 

Seeking out melancholy is just fine. 

In this life, there are positive times, and there are negative times. A time of melancholy might be called a negative time, but it doesn't have to be. 

I find that I do my best introspective thinking when I am submerged in my own "negative" emotions. Practically, I am doing just fine; I'm just a little down. 

My appreciation of art, of music, of creativity are all heightened in these times. 

God and I commune regularly as I rest in my melancholy. I find that reading the Bible, seeing the art and philosophy within the book of Psalms or Proverbs hits just the right note within me. 

My response? Encouragement? Excitement?

Surely not. 

I am content to explore the depths of my emotions and thoughts of the higher things. 

Explore with me the beauty of art through the lens of melancholy; take hold of your own melancholy. 

Earlier this year, I put together a small poetry collection of poems best enjoyed while in a lugubrious emotional state. It features a few notable poems by Longfellow, Whitman, and Hawthorne (as well as others that are not mentioned). 

I wish to share them with you. Take the time to relax, clear your mind, and seek to interact with your deepest self. Imagine a place of pure peace and solitude. Imagine a soft rain fall and channel the feeling you have after having had a long, gratifying day of work.

In fact, place yourself in Longfellow's shoes as he is in his poem "The Day is Done."

The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night,As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist,And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain,And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay,That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters, Not from the bards sublime,Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time.

For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty thoughts suggestLife's endless toil and endeavor; And to-night I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart,As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease,Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care,And come like the benediction That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice,And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day,Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.

Now, I hope you took the time to read that. Longfellow is good for the soul. 

I will also share two more poems and leave you to think. I am going to do my own meditation and appreciation of these works. 

This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best, Night, sleep, death and the stars. – "A Clear Midnight," Walt Whitman. 

Lastly, 

The ocean has its silent caves,
Deep, quiet and alone;
Though there be fury on the waves,
Beneath them there is none.
The awful spirits of the deep
Hold their communion there;
And there are those for whom we weep,
The young, the bright, the fair.

Calmly the wearied seamen rest
Beneath their own blue sea.
The ocean solitudes are blest,
For there is purity.
The earth has guilt, the earth has care,
Unquiet are its graves;
But peaceful sleep is ever there,
Beneath the dark blue waves.
"The Ocean," Nathaniel Hawthorne