moved.

this blog is officially dead and this post is the final plunging of the knife into the heart.

thankfully this blog was married and had a child where my thoughts continued to be jotted down.

www.noonewantstobeanaccountant.tumblr.com

love.

the death of dialogue.

When you spend two hours on a bus everyday with a dead ipod, you overhear some things (and I mean overhear...loud people).

From relationships to who drank the most beer, I have felt much like an anthropologist observing some sort of foreign people - fascinating. And out of all the trends that have been carefully noted, one sticks out amongst the pack.

The art of dialogue is dead.

Let me give you an example...

Bus dweller #1 "I recently bought a new car, it is super charged"
Bus dweller #2 "I own a super charged car, it is brand new."

What is so ridiculous about this conversation might appear very evident and laughable in print. But if you didn't notice, these two people are not conversing. Rather, they are simply stating things back and forth at eachother.

My initial reaction is that this is simply one scenario, not painting a good picture of society as a whole. But over the next few weeks my ears would perk up, only to hear once more this sort of "stating game" be played.

Now this would be easy to write off to selfishness, insecurities, and hope in perishing things. Not saying it is not those things, but maybe this is a result of technology squishing our dialogue "lol" by "lol".

who knows - i will report back soon.

peace.

anyways.

i know noone reads this anymore - but thats kind of liberating.

one of my most profound thoughts post kaleo:

kraft diner sucks.

ottawa.

"And how the wise man and the fool alike die."
-Eccles. 2:16

I had every intention of this post never happening. For the benediction on my last post to act as my benediction to the blogosphere permenantly. And to be honest I'm not sure why this post is here, maybe I will cite therapeutic reasons, or an attempt to pretend I'm still in Kaleo. I don't know.

What I know is that I find myself worlds away from where I was come last April. In an environment where "God" is used interchangeably with "Santa Clause", and friendships seldom seem as genuine as I know they can be. Please don't confuse these remarks as whining, simply an attempt to explain the world I find myself in.

And despite my best efforts there is a mourning.

When Paul writes in Romans 8 about how creation, "groans as in childbirth...to be liberated from its bondage" - I connect with that. It is quite a sight to see, not only young impressionable people, but these professors, these self-professed "prophets of truth" fill their lives with gods made from their own hands.

How can I not be overcome with a deep, deep sadness?

I feel that this is a post that might seem incomplete. But I think it is allowing myself time to stop, pause, and think.

How big do I think my God really is?

So this is Ottawa, thanks for reading again; I hope to be unpacking this as this year continues to unfold.

jake.

a way to end.

Most things are best begun with a story, so I will choose to begin to describe to you what has taken place here in that medium.

Late one Friday night a varied group of teenagers slowly made their way along a sea wall located just off downtown Victoria. Previously in that night these students had witnessed, and assisted with, the engagement of two of their closet friends. You see, for these students, tonight was a farewell of sorts. A bidding adieu to people who have come to know them better than most ever will. And as they walked along the sea wall every step seemed to cue a memory that only made this night much harder.

Finally the students found their way to the end of the sea wall, where they saw a memorial of sorts. As the students navigated there way through it they could not help but once again come to a place of reflection. Soon songs began, old and new songs, songs that meant something to someone, songs that meant something to the whole group.

And during all of this I was overcome. If I look back honestly at my life I can say I haven't been the greatest person. My lifestyle has not been one that has been in accordance with what God calls me to. And yet, despite of my undeservingness, God gave me this year.

He has given me so much, and so I was forced to me knees with no other words than, "thank you, thank you, thank you." The Christian community tends to throw around the term "Grace of God" a lot (I am probably guilty of it). But tonight as I looked out on the ocean and saw the lights in the horizon I knew, so intimately, that there is a Father in heaven who cares for me so much. And as the group continued to sing I began to look around, and I saw things.

I saw people who desired God with their whole hearts, people sold out for the Gospel of Christ. People, who eight months earlier, had been paralyzed and trapped by the sin in their life, now freely proclaiming the workings of Christ in their lives. I saw new brothers and sister embrace, and old wounds healed. What I saw in our group tonight was nothing short of miraculous when compared to the bunch we were only eight months prior.

And so my challenge is this, how do I go from here? How do I explain Kaleo to people? I know in the weeks to come I will be asked the question, "So, how was it?" And I will look blankly at that person and they will assume my year sucked. But my blank look will not be out of a lack of words, but rather because I am looking for a story amidst the thousands running through my head that would best describe my year.

And I thank God for you. For people like Mr. Wagner who are sources of encouragement during the most despairing times. For my parents, who I have come to appreciate and love beyond measure. For my friends, too countless to name, for lending me your ears this year. To Jim Badke and Kristie Voth, people who are an example in my life of how to be led by the Spirit. But above all of these people the glory is to God.

To Him who has enabled me this year, to Him who has empowered me this year, to Him who is my only sustanance. To Him be the glory and praise forever and ever. Amen.

At Kaleo we often end chapel times with a singing of the doxology. This has proven to be a most fitting way of concluding our times together, and so I will incorporate it here. May these words be your prayer at all times. May you know Christ more than you did the day before. And may we enjoy the fellowship in knowing that we belong to a family that is beyond the flesh. Thank you for reading this year.

"Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heav’nly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."

April 8th, 2009

It seldom occurs that I find myself staring at my computer screen with nothing to write about. And so, in my persistence to achieve some sort of regularity with my blog posts, I write about having nothing to write about.

These past few days I was surfing. I would hesitate to call surfing a sport, not because of my lack of respect for it, but exactly the opposite. I would not want to tarnish the name of surfing with the over-endorsed, over-payed, over-hyped, thing we now call "sport". Where joy and healthy competitiveness are replaced with corporate pressures and borderline idolatry. So rather, I will refer to surfing as an experience.

When you have a lot on your mind, as I currently do, surfing is the prescription. Not the surfing in itself, but rather its ability to force you to spend time with God. When you are alone on your board waiting for the next killer wave, seldom do worldly thoughts cloud your mind. Instead, thoughts of worshipping the God whose hand is over all of this. The God who commands the wind and the water, the One who can throw mountains into the ocean.

And so as I sit here back at Kaleo with a sick feeling in my stomach, I wish I was surfing. It's a lot easier to see God when I surf.

Things are coming to a close here at Kaleo, a lot of "the last time we will..." have come up, and it saddens me. Somehow the remark that, "we will all be together in heaven..." does little to comfort. But as I have said in past posts, my soul yearns to be taken from the greenhouse and planted in the world - and so I prepare.

Dear brother and sisters pray that the truth of God is spoken amidst these situations in my life. That he would be glorified, honoured, and exalted on His eternal throne.

For He was, and is, and evermore shall be. Amen.

slumdog millionaire.

if you haven't seen this movie, you need too.