Tree of Life

Every Saturday morning, when I was in elementary school, I used to go to Temple Beth Shalom in Miami Beach.  I would partake in various activities centered around the Jewish faith.  One of our common activities was music time.  During that period of what felt like forever to me, we would sing random Jewish songs.  Aside from the traditional holiday melodies, there is only one song that resonates in my mind.  It was called, It's a Tree of Life.  It went like this:

It is a tree of life to them that hold fast to it

And all of its supporters are happy

This past Sunday was Father's Day, so I hopped in the car and made my way down to Miami Beach to spend the day with my father and the family.  They were dying to see a movie, called The Tree of Life.  I vaguely remember hearing about it, but it sounded familiar to me.  

Last week was a rough one for me!!  I battled temptation, and gave in several times, letting Erika and myself down.  I had also began a little internally kept, self-cursing method, in an attempt to keep my head level while battling with my own thoughts.

I sat in the theatre, about fifty percent full, as the previews rolled away.  On the black screen appears two bible verses:

Job 38:4, 7 Where were you when I laid the foundations of the Earth?  When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for Joy?

Why is it that when we get caught in the rain, we run to shelter, but if we are in an enclosed area when it rains, the sight and smell of rain entices us to run in it?  

As I watch the movie, I can't help but think about how incredibly made it is.  I have never seen a movie that has kept me thinking as much as this one.  Also, I am absolutely taken aback by how it is written and made.  The creativity is displayed in full form, keeping me alert and focused.  

I was in the garage with my father, attempting to reorganize some things.  I felt a cool breeze, and before I could think about it, the rush of rain echoed through the garage.  I stood at the edge of the open door and peered out.  It smelled sweet to my nostrils.  I took a step head outside.  The cool water ran over my head and neck, until I was nearly engulfed in the droplets.  

The movie concludes to the chatter of confusion.  Not one person, who was talking about the movie they had just seen, knew what the movie was about.  I would say that this movie is not for everyone, yet I would definitely encourage everyone to see it with an open mind.  It is the kind of movie that has the possibility of broadening ones perspective, but requires a large amount of thought and attention.

Hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me

Hallelujah, all my stains are washed away, washed away

I was one of the few people who got the movie, and it changed me.  It gave me a fresh perspective on my life.  When I see how faith in God and Christ helps guide others' lives, even in fictional movies, I am moved.  I have a newfound passion and desire to serve the Lord even more than before.  I have made a promise to myself, that even in the worst of times, there is no reason to fret the possible outcomes.  Instead, I have come to terms with the fact that God is in control, and in those times, HE will be the one that pulls me out of the mess I am in.  I have the understanding that God is my tree of life, and as long as I hold fast to it, I will forever be well and happy!

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I have also come to terms with the fact that God is not always going to be doing his work solo.  I have learned that he tends to use other people or things as vessels to put his works on display.  If the question is, where is my vessel!?  Just pray and be patient, because the day she comes into your life, you'll know! ✝

Beauty

is in the eye of the beholder...

It's truly amazing what you can find!  A place, hidden, 25 (or so) miles away.

We get off I-95, make a few turns and we are here.  Upon stepping out into this new environment, I am perplexed.  I look around, expecting to find some sort of direction, anything, a yellow brick road?  I look behind me.  I was attracted to this familiar sound.  The sound of sneakers on a gym floor drew my eyes upon the county jailhouse.  Looking up at this monstrous building, I swallowed hard.  Immediate thought, "This is going to be interesting."

The city of Miami is usually hugely overshadowed by the night life, the rich neighborhoods, and the vast amount of tourists. This is true for good reason.  As humans, life is lived in the fast lane, only slowing down in order to take glance at the luxurious things.  These material things are commonly perceived as beautiful.

So the routine begins: lights out at 11, up at 7.  A full list of projects and locations are posted on the wall waiting for us to move at full steam.  Breakfast is eaten, the lunch is packed and we are on our way by 830.  Monday:  Touching Miami with Love.  We begin our journey down the street towards Overtown.  It is about a 10-15 block walk, but it all looks the same to me.  With every run down house we pass, I think of how privileged we are to have the things we do.  We are greeted at TML with two great hearts, Jason and Angel.  They run the entire operation, helping children to be occupied and entertained through camps and after school day care.  Our job is to help with various odds and ends throughout the building.  We complete everything by 4 and head back to where we came.  Day 1=good, successful, but seemingly slower for me than the rest of the group with us.

The upper middle class families bask in their ability to eat, shower, and sleep in a comfortable bed whenever they please, without skipping a beat.  Why would anyone choose to not have these luxuries?  Why doesn't everyone have everything?  Why is it, that most people don't even turn their eye to those in need, as if they are more human than the underprivileged?

Tuesday:  Miami Rescue Mission.  We take the van a few streets over from our location.  Graffiti covers the walls of this part of the city.  People lay on the sidewalk.  They hug the doorsteps of the buildings.  We enter the warehouse, and get to work sifting through all of the materials in storage.  Apparently a party is going to be thrown by this organization in the near future and we turn out to be a BIG help in rearranging their things in an orderly fashion.  Before we depart, we are given a tour of the entire organization.  They cover a few street blocks, and the vast amount of buildings and employees make the Miami Rescue Mission possible.  Day 2=better than day 1; still a bit lackadaisical and a bit slow.

Homelessness surrounds us.  It is all over, yet we tend to ignore it.  We sit in our air conditioned cars with music blasting, as there are people walking by your window wondering...wanting a measly penny from you.  We walk swiftly on the street when we pass a person laying on the ground, and immediately place a tight grip on our belongings, as if the resting person is some sort of thief.

Wednesday:  Yvonne Learning Center.  We hop in the van and get on the road for a little longer of a journey.  As we pull off the highway, it becomes evident that I am the minority in these parts of town.  Little Haiti.  We arrive at the center and make our way inside.  Patrick, the said leader of the organization, greets us with great enthusiasm and starts the day off with his story of why he is where he is today.  As we walk through the school, the children in the classrooms stand and greet us with a kind good morning.  Then we are split up into groups, and  Patrick lays out a list of tasks to be completed for the day.  We conclude the day with me in a mango tree.  Patrick has an apparent affinity for mangos, and he went to great lengths to get them.  Odd to figure that, even though he was not the one in the tree.  He blamed his back.  I just hope, now looking back, that he didn't have a mango tree accident of his own.  Day 3=The best day so far!  Went by very fast, felt as though a lot was completed, and related very well with our leader, Patrick.

Why do the majority of people clench up and pick up speed as they pass by someone foreign to them?  Why is it that when people are met face to face with someone of the opposite race, they can't help but awkwardly say [with all of the nervousness possible in their voice] "hey. how are you?"  Why are 95% or more of the jokes told, racial?  Why are people so stuck on labeling by race?

Thursday:  second day at the Yvonne Learning Center.  Again, back to the lobby where we await Patrick's arrival.  I wonder what sort of adventure he may have in store for us.  I also ponder his thoughts regarding our work from the day before.  Sure enough, as he addresses us, the first thing he talks about is Wednesday's work!  He tells us that we all did a good job and he has a lot of things for us to do.  We get to it, and before we know it our half day there is over.  Goodbyes are said, and we drive from little Haiti for the final time on the trip.  It was a half day because we had a dinner planned for us back at our place of origin.  We have a little bit of down time, then we start to set up for the dinner.  Everything is in place just in time for the flood of people through the doors.  The less fortunate, the needy, the homeless, come in to receive a hot meal, a shower, and have the option of swapping out their clothes for some new, clean ones.  Day 4=Incredible!!  The day flew by, and it felt like it was the most productive day of the trip, even though there was a lot of down time between our morning work, and the evening dinner.

We expect so much from this world.  That is the problem.  Why do we live for this world; the things in it, the people in it?  What is so important that we need to have, all for us?  What we all need is God!  Jeremiah 29:13 says, You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.  

We were told on Sunday, when we arrived, that the mission of the D.O.O.R. Network is to see the face of God in the city.  By the final day, I was able to comprehend that statement and I saw God's face in everything we did throughout the entire time we were on the trip.  The face of God shouldn't only be seen on a mission trip.  The face of God is something that should be seen every single day, in everything that we do.

Once I put my heart into it, God showed me true beauty.  The kind of beauty that you can't find in a magazine--the kind of beauty that you just might have to go to the slums of a neighboring city to find.

Perhaps Love

This is attempt number three at writing this blog post.  It has become increasingly difficult for me to piece together my thoughts into words, apparently...

This last week or so has been a moment of clarity and realization for me.

Why was I so afraid to say how I felt?  How come I had the facial expression down pat, the heart pounding away in my chest, searching for a way out, but the words would only get so far.  Reaching the tip of my tongue, only for my teeth to cut them off, out of sight and mind from the outside world.

Why don't we go to God for everything?  What the heck are we holding back for!?  God will not be mad, God will not ignore it, God will not look down on us in a negative light.  Justifications are useless at this point because God is waiting for us to tell Him.  He obviously knows our exact thoughts and wants, as well as our needs.  He is just allowing us to come around to telling Him.  I suppose this is His way to test our trust for Him, His will, and His strength.  Rest assured, and I promise, God will not be overwhelmed with our requests.
Luke 11:9-10 reads:
9 "So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. 10 For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened."

Translation:  Come to God with everything, and He will give to you what you have requested.  This doesn't mean if you ask to win the lottery, He will give it to you, but you must seek it.  In doing so, trusting that God is there taking care of the situation and showing you the way.

I could escape the words for the moment, assuring myself that maybe next time would be best.  I sought advice about it.  When was the right time?  How would I know?  I sought advice from everyone BUT God.  

The other day, I was told about a song called Perhaps Love, by John Denver.  I listened to it while doing about 317 million other things.  I replied to my friend that is was a 'good song.'  Hindsight being 20/20, there is definitely a reason for her showing me this song.  Not to seduce me, or confess her love for me (which she doesn't), but for me to see what John Denver was talking about at a later date.  That day is today.  Immediately upon starting this post, this song came to mind.  I looked it up, and read the lyrics.  

Side note confession: I would love to become a writer.  I feel like I have enough in my heart to become one, but I am unsure if I am creative enough to put my words and thoughts into an intriguing format. :/

I found an interesting correlation between the words from Luke's Gospel and this song:

Perhaps love is like a window

Perhaps an open door

It invites you to come closer

It wants to show you more

I prayed.  I asked for advice.  I asked to be shown the way.  I asked for a way out of my own head.  I asked for my head to be numbed and silenced, to allow my heart to be heard.  I understood that 'actions speak louder than words', but I asked that the words would serve as a form of clarity.

Outside of the door, curiosity is at its peak.  I glance at the door in wonder.  It seems as though there is something hidden by the door.  Something much more than what I can see from the outside.  So I knock, ring the doorbell, hoping that someone will answer.  I long for the creaking noise of the hinges, the appearance of the guard at the door, the ability to peer inside of the doorway for a moment.  A moment long enough to take a peak.  Relieving the tension, worry, and wonder; but not long enough to subside the desire to push aside the door for a longer, closer look.  

I made a promise to myself.  I promised that I would restrain myself from telling someone I love them until I knew for sure that it was what I felt.  I further promised myself that even if I wholeheartedly felt that way about someone, that I would have to hear it first in order for me to express my feelings.

When I am asked to come inside, my eyes become glazed over.  I don't know what to look at first.  I am unaware of how to think about what I'm seeing.  I regress to my infancy stage, taking everything in, overloading my senses.  I am unsure of how long I may be welcomed here.  I have an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for the ability to step foot in this foreign place.  I turn to the keeper of the place, and he has disappeared from the doorway.  I am alone.

I broke my promise.  I couldn't help it.  A feeling came over me, and as my heart pounded and the goosebumps rose on my skin, the words flowed from my mouth uncontrollably.

Looking around the place, in search of who was once there, I see a light.  Walking towards the light, I begin to hear a noise.  A noise like no other.  A noise that cannot be expressed by words, or relatable to any sound.  It is as though time has completely stopped, and I am so transfixed on the light that my stare cannot be broken.  Approaching the light, a figure is seen.  It looks like a person, but I am unable to differentiate who it may be.

Days later, in the middle of a deep conversation, the favor was returned.  Another promise had been broken.  Another heart handed over to its new keeper.  One who had given his heart, left with an open cavity that lay waiting, had been filled.

I am now close enough to see that there is a face in the light.  It has become very recognizable to me.  The look I see on the face is beautiful.  A face that poets write about.  A face authors write books about. A face producers make movies about.  A face flush red with a newfound feeling.  All things aside, four eyes now transfixed on each other.  No words are spoken.  All that is felt is each other's heartbeat.

Curiosity

killed the cat!

Isn't that what they say!?  Is that my fair warning before I do something that may not deliver the result I was looking for?  Or is it some sort of child's play; a nursery rhyme to wipe away all the worry of the world?  Or is the world we live in so curious, that we are led to curiosity?  Because curiosity is defined as the desire to learn or know about anything; inquisitiveness, if you will.  Then, only for making a point, inquisitive is defined as given to inquiry, research, or asking questions; eager for knowledge; intellectually curious.

...intellectually curious.  Yeah that's it!

See, I was walking my dog tonight and I realized something.  I look up at the night sky when I'm overcome with a feeling of curiosity.  Or is it that I get curious about things upon looking up at the night sky?  Maybe it's the wonder of all that lies above me that leads to my curiosity; the curiosity that comes from a trusting in God, who knows all that has/will be my life.  Although I trust, why do I still become curious about things? I learned recently that having faith and trust in God leads to the questioning, due to our curiosity about things in our life.  I could just rack off about a million things in my life that I am curious about, but that would be pointless nonsensical material for this blog.

So...

When I looked up tonight, I thought of three different things, and became curious about how they are in relation to my life.
1. Family
2. Erika
3. God

Somehow, now thinking about it, they all correlate with each other!

1. Family.  It is my biggest repressed memory, and my greatest outlook into the future.  I never repressed the memory of my family as a whole, because that would be extremely foolish of me.  It is the memories of how I have negatively affected my family.  My family, as most families are, is very dysfunctional!  The person-to-person issues range from the youngest to the oldest in my family.  Thinking about this tonight, I came to the conclusion that I want to end this trend.  I want everyone in my family to know I respect and love them, as I should.  And I also want them to understand that.  Which led to my curiosity. What will become of my family?  Better yet, the relationships that I have with my family members.  I want there to be close ties with my immediate family, and it to branch off from there, as expected.  I want to be there for my family, as they are trying to be there for me.  As we are all changing as individuals, that becomes harder for everyone, but I am striving to achieve that goal.  Even so, I'm curious as to how it is going to be in the future.

2. Erika.  Now writing this, I wish I could have saved this until the end in order to correctly collect my thoughts on the subject.  But, as I sit here, I do have all night to write this.  And I have definitely put a lot of thought into this one.  There's something I believe in called happening for a reason.  I suppose I will touch on this when I discuss my next area of thought from this evening, but I have had the feeling from the very beginning of our relationship that there was a reason that we started dating.  Her values, morals, personality, and, last but not least, her looks have blown me away from the first time we spoke, continuing to now.  This isn't going to be a sappy story about how I feel about her; more like my thought of curiosity with respect to her.  I thought about this for a long time on my walk this evening.  I am curious.  I am curious about her.  I am curious about me.  I am curious about us.  This is by no means meant to be a negative moment of curiosity.  Rather, this was a time in which I became excited!  I became curious of how she would do in school at UF.  I became curious about that popular question, 'where will you be in ten years?'  And thought about her in relation to that question.  I also thought about me in relation to that question, becoming even more curious about us, in relation to that question.  Again, this is the farthest thing from a negative thought!!  I am so fascinated with Erika that I'm surprised my mind hasn't exploded from a sensory overload yet.  Fascinated in a way that she leads me to be the most curious about her.  I am fascinated with her every move; [and] action.  Not in a weird creeper way, just the way that one thinks, when extremely attracted to someone else.  But it's weird for me.  (again, not a bad thing!!)  It's just an odd occurrence for me.  I have never been this interested in someone before.  Yeah I've dated other people, but I kind of went through the motions, hoping to catch a spark from rubbing together the flint and steel.  (Not a sexual connotation.  Flint and steel are two materials used before lighters, or at camp sites to light a fire from the friction caused from rubbing the two together.)  I see this as a great situation, happening for a reason, one filled with vast amounts of hope, care, and most of all; curiosity.

3. God.  In all honesty, where do I start!?  Here, these are my exact thoughts from tonight.  I know that I have a curiosity about my future, whether it be with my family or with Erika.  I also know that I am not worried about either one of them.  I am curious became I am excited!  I am excited for what God has in store for me!  God has provided everything for me for all 21 years of my life, without me being aware of it for the majority of those years.  Now I am able to come to terms with God and myself, and recognize the impact He has had on my life.  I am thankful beyond words, and have a sense of comfort in Him.  I know that God will always provide for me, and in my curiosity, He will help me to grow.  Grow in my family, grow in/with Erika, and of course grow within myself.  I have a feeling that God wants us all to be curious.  Curious about different things in our lives.  Curious about things in other people's lives around us.  And most of all, curious about how God is related to all of this.

I know this because I have learned that simply being curious is not the answer.  In learning to trust God with my every move, I have been able to become intellectually curious.

The Somber Light

As I am walking down the hall yesterday afternoon, I get a call from my bedroom...

Lia (my little sister) has been on my computer for about the last hour and as she changed her position she unplugged it from the A/C Adapter.  Upon doing that, the computer shut off.  After rebooting it, she is unable to type in my password.

"Matt, your computer unplugged and shut down!!!!  Can you type in your password for me?!"  I, meanwhile babying eggs cooking in my kitchen, yell back in response to her, "not right now."  She did her usual teenager rant to my mother about the situation, inducing my mother to march down the hall to let me know how she feels about the situation.  When she entered through the kitchen doorway, she had asked me why I wouldn't type in my password and told me that it was not right for me to ignore my sister's request.  I told my mother that she had been on my computer for an hour already, and that I would have gladly retyped in my password after I was done putting the cooked eggs on a plate.  Then she let me know what she really had to say,

"You know, you call yourself a Christian, yet you are so selfish!"

Whatever she said after that, I didn't let sink in.  That hit me like a ton of bricks!  I value my beliefs more than anything in life, and in doing so, I try to live by them 24/7 (which I would say I do, for the 99.9% of the time).  After she left the kitchen, my step dad lit into me about being selfish and how it could have taken literally two minutes to type in my password for my sister.  I objected and explained it from my perspective, adding the bit of being offended by my mother's choice word usage, to no avail.

Conversation ended, I ate my eggs, showered, and left the house to go out to a friend's get together.

I concluded that it was time to move out of my house.  I have been battling the feeling of leaving home, since I transferred schools and moved back home to better myself.  I found it difficult from the beginning to readjust to home life, but I figured/assumed that they would adjust to 21 year old me (instead of the 18 yr old one, when I left for school), as I have been trying to adjust back to them.  Now it became concrete in my thought and understanding; home was no longer a place for me to be able to comfortably live in.  

I had peripherally discussed the situation with my girlfriend (Erika), that night, and was comforted by it.  So I went into today with a positive mindset.

I did my usual Sunday routine, which includes going to the 8:30 church service, stay to teach Sunday School, then go home to change, then off to see my grandparents, only to return to church in the evening for Youth Group (If you haven't noticed, I have become an avid church goer and church volunteer.  I must note that I am very thankful for the opportunity that I have been given). 

After the Youth Group and evening events, I had the honor of taking Erika home (which I know she always feels bad for, but I enjoy it more than most would think...including her!).  When we arrived in her driveway, we did our routine 300 conversations before we say goodbye hours later.  After discussing about 298 of those conversations (ignore the foolish numbers, for this is a stale joke that I am implying), she grabbed my bible from my dashboard and started to flip through the pages.  I assumed that she was just flirtatiously playing around with me, when she told me to close my eyes, not really thinking that she was looking for a specific bible verse.  I heard the bible close, and then opened my eyes.  She gave me the cutest little smile and placed the bible back onto my dashboard, and told me that I would have to wait until later because it's a surprise (again, I was thinking that this is a flirty tactic that she was trying to get me to fall into).  Much to my surprise, it was not just a game she was playing, but she actually found a bible verse that she was looking for.

The minute I head into my house, before a breath of fresh home air, I was questioned as to why I had been acting 'differently' (allow me to define differently: Acting not myself, in a reaction to something else that occurred.  Ex. Not intentionally making conversation after last night's incident).  I responded by shrugging it off and said that it's nothing.  Then my mother starting to tell me how wrong I am for acting different just because I was called out on being wrong last night.  Following that, my step dad decided to let me know how he felt.  After some banter, yelling, screaming, avoidance, and my polite request to do this another time because I felt that it was not the right time, I forcibly sat down and listened to my step dad basically talk himself into circles with the issue of me 'being selfish and unable to recognize accomplishing simple tasks in the house,' and how it's wrong because 'they provide for me and I should be able to return a favor at their request.'  After that, I fled the house in fear that I would be unable to bite my tongue any further.  When I drove off, I called Erika and explained to her what had happened moments earlier.  She understood, and heard me out on what I had to say about it.  

Side note: as great as it seems from the surface, I really don't like to be ranting to someone, especially someone I truly care about.  But Erika is really the greatest person to go to, because she is so great at listening, and quietly comforting me.

I spoke to my father about moving out of the house, following the conversation I had with Erika, and he was on board to help me no matter what.  I then called Erika back to re-fill her in.  She was even more responsive this time around, after she had let the situation soak in.  She comforted me, told me not to worry, be angry, or frustrated.  I have no idea why, but just hearing her say that comforted me beyond explanation. 

I cooled off, went inside, ate some food, and decided it was time to take a shower. I get out of the shower and see that my phone had a text message on it from Erika.  It read: John 11:35.

It must be noted that John 11:35 was the strong point of the sermon in this morning's worship service.  And it was the verse that stuck with me as I listened, as well as throughout the entire day.

I open my bible to John 11:35, with the thought that it was some inspirational verse to keep my cool, or something along those lines (I had forgotten which the exact number the verse was from this morning, but it looked oddly familiar via text).  I look at the verse in my bible and it was squared off; the works of Erika.  John 11:35 reads: Jesus wept.  (You see, this was after the death of Lazarus, and Jesus was distraught at the thought and sight of his death because it seemed to be common knowledge that Jesus could have helped him to survive, but had not been around to do so.  And by noting that he wept, it is a sign that he was able to feel emotion and grieve about the same things that we do).  

During the sermon, I had thought back to the last time I cried, and began to think that I couldn't allow myself to cry, and that I resorted to frustration, worry, or anger instead.  I wondered when, if so, I would ever cry again.

Tonight, I wept.