choice (background)

Man in his state apart from God is a depraved creature, subject to the whims of his base nature, and is quickly dying. It is simply by the grace of God that man is able to lift his head, acknowledge his state and plead for more of that very grace that lifted his very head.

Adam chose for all mankind or if perceived outside of time, all mankind chose for Adam. To be as God is, to know right and wrong and decide as if we were a god- was our first choice and nothing has been the same since. With this decision we walked separate, apart from God. No longer was he able to draw near, to commune with us, nor us with him. Instead a holy distance developed in the space between God and man. And both were pained.

Man wondered about doing as he pleased, filling the earth, filling his belly, fulfilling his pleasures. He did as he pleased, for he was not his brothers keeper, was he? If it was pleasing, he took it, if it was painful, he fled from it. Man was left to himself and with that came death. And God full of pain decided to rid the earth of his creation.

There was a man however who walked upright. Who did not give himself over to himself, but instead, walked with God as he was a righteous and blameless man. (It is amazing what God will do for one righteous person.) So God didn't wipe out the entire Earth for the sake of Noah, and instead began building a people he could call his own. They would be his people, and he would be their God.

Thus begins a journey towards Jesus, the journey of a people, selected by God for another righteous man. This man would be the father of God's people, and his children would be numbered like the stars and the sand, and so the covenant is formed. The relationship is full of 'despites' from the very beginning. Despite man's best attempts to get in the way, ruin, and walk away from God, he is always dragged back. Despite constant idolatry, thickheadedness, adultery, murder, and countless other crimes and sins, God makes for himself a people. God is holy but is not afraid of using unholy people. And from this very people that he formed, there will come the one who crossed that holy distance between God and his people, and drew them together.

He came small and unsuspecting. Lived as a man, and was tempted in every way, yet his eyes did not linger, his heart did not covet. His words pierced hearts and minds as he spoke of a kingdom, not so far away. A kingdom where the lame walked and the blind received sight, the orphans found family and the hungry found food, the broken found comfort and the sad found joy. This kingdom is open to all, but the road is narrow, the gate small, and only those who seek find. He who is first, well he will be last, and he who is servant of all will be the greatest. And unless you become like a little child you will never get in. But faith as small as a mustard seed is all it takes.
So blessed is he who is poor in spirit, for he will recognize the kingdom, and it will be his. And lest it is thought that by works one may get in, it is only for grace, that none will be able to boast.

And so he lived a different life. One fit for a different sort of world, a different sort of kingdom. He lived and then he died. Hanging there with blood and energy seeping from his body they heaped insults on him, “you saved others, why don't you save yourself?” not seeing that every shallow breath was bringing them closer to the very forgiveness that he had just prayed over them, “Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” Meanwhile, the thief on his one side turned to him and with a simple request was with him later that day in paradise. Faith so small that it is barely noticed yet it got him to a kingdom where many are invited but few are chosen. The other thief staring into the dying face of God, sneered along with the rest. Choice.

Three days later Jesus overcame death and the world has never been the same. But he did not stay long for he was to go and in his stead, send the helper, the Holy Spirit. And with the very winds of Pentecost, the person of Jesus and the Kingdom of his Father has not stopped spreading to this day.

Grey eyes and a dirty beard
hang down to holy sneakers
and cracked hands holding the cardboard
that asks God's blessing on those who give to the poor.
Weathered flannels and yellow teeth
don't find much to chew-
so an empty stomach nags
his worn soul.
Scabs and bruises cover two arms
filled with used veins
that can't often run in a straight line
because it makes the night warmer,
the bench softer,
and the memories a little foggier.

updates

bad bad bad. it's been a full week since i've written. well on my blog anyways. sorry to my faithful readers. to my unfaithful readers, well, you've got no room to complain about my unfaithful writing.

so a few quick updates:
it's cold here now.

it's even colder in my room than outside. it's simply the law of my room, it is always either hotter than the hotness outside, or colder than the coldness.

i am in a state of flux over whether to cut my hair short again or continue to grow it to warm my ears during the long cold nights i spend in my bed.

i'm taking a protein/carbohydrate drink in order to gain a bit of weight because im tired of outspoken latins telling me i need to eat, when i already eat.

i'm going to England the 27th of December till the 3rd of January. i'm taking a Spanish friend along who speaks good english, should be a great time.

az and abby have been gifted this amazing videocamera. as im the resident tech i get to play with it... and i thought my camera was fun... there might be some run-on benefits for my blog in the future.

this year's loss to ohio state only ruined one weekend instead of the usual weeklong aftershock. small benefit to being removed from the scene of the crime by an ocean. (it case you don't understand, my team Michigan just lost the game of the century. there is brief talk that there might be a rematch in a few months, though who knows.)

well that's all the updates i've got time for, it's time to eat. and of course i can't afford to miss that.

bicycles and dominicans

about a month ago my good dominican friend, willy de jesús de la cruz lent me his bike. now for those of you who understand spanish, the fact that i now have a bicycle won't have registered because you will have been too fixated on that fact that it was lent to me by willy of jesus of the cross. yep, that's his name and he lent me his unused bike for the time being. if you want to see what willy de jesús de la cruz looks like, check out the previous post entitled 'coffee' located in the month of september. willy is the black coffee.

so he's a great guy, not just because he lent me his bike, but for a long of other reasons which i am not going to expound on here simply because i am too enamored with having a bike and can think of little else. it's really been something good for me. i must say, when i first borrowed it, i was like, 'hey, cool, i like this.' a whole month and something later, i am like, 'wow, having a bike is awesome!' it's only been getting better with time. man i hope that's what it's like being married. i sense an analogy beginning to brew about marriage and bikes, but i think i'll let it go for now.

so tonight i put a good hour in on it, with some football in between. after my english lessons followed by spanish lessons it was time for some evening football. so i pedaled off to where we were going to play. a good twenty minutes later i arrived. played some quality sport and pedaled home another good 25 minutes, and i feel great! greatly tired! but just think how long that would have taken me to walk. and besides, buses aren't allowed to go the wrong way up one way streets like i am on my bike. in case you are into math and want to call me on the fact that i only actually did 45 minutes of riding instead of the hour i confessed to earlier, well i had 15 minutes here and there prior...

so thanks for the bike willy. it really is great. and here's to it never getting stolen. (maybe tomorrow i'll even take a picture and post it! how exciting would that be??!?)

a century of writing

somehow, someway, café in españa has managed to pile up 99 previous posts. this will make it 100. in less than a year i might add. what i ask myself though, is what kind of gift i am giving... on the day we leave behind double digits to enter the daunting but yet secure world of triple i am gifting a lousy post. a post considering only itself and its own shallow glory. i should be treating some tender subject like compassion or powerful concept like forgiveness and yet i sit and hit keys which simply speak of length. longevity. yet even my longevity is subjective. and who am i to be an expert at 23?

if the average lifespan of a healthy male in the western world hovers around 75, then ive nearly covered what could possibly be a third of my life. that makes me stop for a moment. death isn't something i think about everyday. (if you want a strange and random circumstance, Hootie and the Blowfish's song - "when i get to heaven" just came on my random player by circumstance) so chew on that.
i think death is something i want to be prepared for. by prepared i could mean several things. prepared to face the God who made me from dust, several generations back. prepared to give account for how the heck i spent my life, whether i loved, clothed, fed, and sheltered- physically or emotionally or even spiritually. prepared to experience finally being completely human. prepared to let go of what i hold dear here until my hands are finally empty and only holding out for completion. prepared at last to see the fullness of grace and forgiveness it took for me.

there is a book called till we have faces. the title in and of itself leads to me ponder a day when we will finally have faces and be seen and known for who we really are, perhaps simply looking into faces.

well this posting took on a life of its own, perhaps fitting for the beginning of a new era. tomorrow i will come back and see what i've actually written and hopefully not have to change too much.

something about a rabbit

Here I am at the end of a busy last week! Had a fabulous visit from Dave R and Henry F for those who know them. I laughed a lot, learned a lot, and even loitered about, talking into the night a lot. Perhaps this blog shall bear the fruits of some of those chats. It is a shame not all of it can be repeated, but what I come away with is a bit more vision, a bit more excitement, and a lot more faith. And the bearded sailor in the background? Well, we are not sure where he came from but he says his name is Cave.