Three weddings and my funeral.

I have been to 3 weddings this summer. I have seen my younger brother married off, a friend from college and later today, a cousin. And at each of them I have slowly been growing more unhappy with my un-marriedness.

I have had friends and family both have noted the fact that marriage is a lot of work; it's not all kisses and smiles.

I get that.

I have had relationships in my past where the last thing I want to do is love the person standing in front of me. I have been so in love with a person to where I thought I could have stood in front of a bullet for them.

I get it. It's work. It's pain. It's sacrifice. It's compromise. But most importantly, it's love. In all its hideous beauty.

Perhaps I just want someone to be with. Yet, I don't. I want someone to wake up to every morning. Someone who loves me for me, but desires me to become something more. A person with whom I can share my highest highs and my lowest lows.

All that crap.

The Cry of the Proletariate

Today, we sit on the helm of a fantastic time in life. It's when the worries of the weeks simply melt and dissipate into a sea of ambiguity. Where how many reports I scanned are evicerated into nothing. Where gossip only matter to those who care.

It's a time that blends so smoothly that you almost forget that you actually have responsibility. It makes one feel proud of the job they have done. People have been known to go crazy, lose their minds, even take their own lives waiting for it. Managers battle against it, the common worker pangs for it and productivity bows in subservience to it.

What am I talking about?

I'm talking about Friday, ya'll.

I mean, it's something to look forward to, isn't it?

A Short Dissertation on Returning Home

This is an act so seemingly innocuous as to often be taken with a certain amount of anxiety. Call it experience or smart planning, I have been known to arrive back home from some time overseas and get the old stone-faced, disinterested look. Those who have spent time for extended periods of time and weren't parching the hell out of their skin will attest to this: People simply do not care what 'God does in your life".

A generalization you might say. Whether or not this statement is universally true, I have discovered that people's interest in vicarious missions is somewhere around a marginal 1%.

So with that said, I am reluctant to return home and face all my friends, family and co-workers.

I spent a few hours walking around the YWAM Bangkok base, reflecting on my time over the last two months. What I came out with was a looming feeling of depression. It seemed to arise from thoughts of leaving. Leaving something behind that you have invested in; actually invested in. This is something completely new to me.

Yeah, I went to college, graduated. Haven't seen a payoff from that yet. This DTS has exposed me in the error of my ways and shown me how incredibly self-centered and materially driven the majority of America is. This caused everyone on our team to turn towards the people and give the only thing we knew how to give --- love.

So back to the walk.

I realized as I was walking through the night market, with impressive force, that I was going to have a BIG decision to make. The decision that I've heard countless people who have spent time on a DTS or even in short term missions voice. The slow, calculated choice to stagnate, rot and die (spiritually) or respond to the knowledge to which you have been exposed. One of our speakers during the 5th week of my lecture phase said "Man is responsible to the amount of light that he knows".

If an unsaved person suddenly realizes his need for God and does not do something about it; he is, in a sense, sinning against himself and God. His lack of a relationship with Christ is evidence of this anyways; but this is a completely different subject matter for a different blog.

So much like the unsaved man, my responsibility lies in what I know.

The proof of the pudding will be in the tasting, as they say.