A Sinner Beholding the Incarnate Word of God

This is supposed to be my Christmas post, but with family in town and work (I work for a UPS Store, so business explodes around Christmas. And no, it is not our fault you didn't get your packages before Christmas or got stolen off of your front porch, like what happened to my new hockey pants...like that thieving jerk will ever use them!).  I usually got up around 9 AM, left for my grandparents house 45 minutes later, went to work (except on Christmas Eve and Christmas day), went back to my grandparents' house for dinner, and got home around midnight and hung out with whatever roommates were randomly home until 1 AM.  Thus, I did not have time to put my thoughts into Times New Roman until now.

I just hit play, and when the record comes to an end, I'll listen all over again.

Please excuse me as I step off my theological soapbox and step onto a musical one.

Some Brief Thoughts about Death

I am a 23 year old young man who will eventually die.  I may be in relative good health and may have only lived one-third or even one-quarter of my life (or, on the other hand, 99 percent of it), but I will inevitably die.  It is a thought that one may call pessimistic, morbid, or even say is on the brink of suicidal, yet  it is a thought that is infinitely realistic.  The Western mindset (as far as I can tell) seems to be avoidant of death—it says that death is unwanted, and therefore it is something that we put out of our minds and spend millions of dollars to delay.  Nevertheless, all our efforts are for naught, and we die.

...in the twinkling of an eye, at the Last Trumpet.

One night last week, I was sitting alone in my apartment at around 9:00, I felt the sudden urge to get up and get out of my lonesome confines.  After weighing my options, a bike ride to Atrim Park--which consists of a lake with a circumference of about 1.5 miles and probably the clearest water one could find in Columbus--won out.  I arrived there after a six or seven mile ride with the sun's light all but gone, sat on a bench a stone's throw away from the water's edge, and humbly conversed with my Lord.  After soaking in the placidity of the lake and hearing what my Lord wanted me expel from and receive into my soul, I rode that same six or seven miles in the darkness of the mostly-wooded Olentangy Trail.  The little light on my handlebars only allowed me to see the turns a few feet beforehand, but I made it out alive.  What let me know I was still alive was knowing that I was finally near Union Cemetery of all places.  With my spiritual- and adrenaline-high, I decided that my night's adventure was not quite over.

What I think about the DOMA and Prop. 8 rulings.

A "conservative Christian" talking about the "progressive, liberal" political shift taken today--sounds like fun, right?