My Cup of Morning

I pour the coffee beans into the grinder, individual beans clinking against the sides. Just like every morning. The scent hits my nostrils: pungent, thrumming, bold. It’s the smell of morning, at least to me. My brain slightly twitches, the tingle from my nose reaching my sluggish head.

Chugga chugga. The grinder crunches, whines, smashes. The smell becomes a little bit stronger, shooting into my nose in waves. I pour the grinds into the machine, and turn it on.
The coffee machine grumbles and gurgles, shooting hot water through the dark brown grinds. The whole room is now filled with an earthy, bright aroma, one that makes me want to sit down with a good book.
So, once the coffee is ready, I pour it in a mug and add some cream and sugar. I pick up a book and curl up on the couch, holding my steaming cup of morning.
All hell will break loose in about a half hour, but this is peace.
I plunge myself into the story. A hero, of course, fighting frighteningly colossal powers levied against him. A girl, of course, beautiful, blue eyed, madly in love with the hero and strongly committed to his cause. A wizened old man, guiding the hero and teaching him. An antagonist. Huge, demonic, powerful. Evil; blatantly disregarding any moral boundaries; preying on those unable to protect themselves. A world hanging on the edge of a knife.
My phone rings.

I fold the corner of the page and close the book.

The coffee is cold, and the smell is now mixed with roommates’ burnt toast, eggs, and various shower products as bodies dry from just having used them.

My ears are filled with shuffling chairs, grunting and chattering men, the girl above us who thinks she’s Demi Lovato, and one voice fretting over his charred piece of bread.

I hold the phone in my hand, frantically beeping and buzzing to get my attention. I sigh, and answer it. Let the day begin.

Why Be a Christian?

There's a few folks out there that talk about being "christians."

What's with these guys?

Why on earth do they do it? Are they just following a norm set by their parents and close friends?

Unfortunately, yeah, a lot of them are.

What about the ones who tell homosexuals they're going to hell?

What about the ones who try to hold Koran burnings?

What about the ones who talk about Jesus, but live in sin without caring one whit about it?

With all of these preconceptions in the minds of lots of Americans, it isn't surprising that to some people the whole prospect of being a christian is pretty unappealing.

If it doesn't do anything to you to change you, why be one anyway?

If it just gets you a label and maybe getting to heaven (who knows what happens after we die anyway? No one. That's right.) but life here stays the same, is it even worth it?

Dunno about you, but my answer is no.

So. Is there anything else? Or is it really just something to assuage our consciences until we get put in a box to decompose a few feet underground and fertilize a tree? An aspen would be nice. Bury me by an aspen. I don't want my body feeding a russian olive tree. They smell funny.

Let's rewind. Past aspen trees (and russian olives, thank goodness) and the earth itself. Boom. God makes the universe (just humor me, even if you disagree). He didn't need to, but He did. And on just one planet, he placed a whole bunch of stuff. Water, air, dirt, hyenas, manatees, more dirt, fish, birds, trees (even russian olives), and everything we see on it today.

Then he did something interesting. He said "let us make man in our own image." He made a dude. In HIS image. Whhaaaat??? Why? I don't claim to know His mind, but it pleased Him to make this dude.

Then He made a woman (from this dude) to be the dude's companion, because He said it wasn't good for the dude to be alone. But that's another subject.

He gave the dude and the woman ONE command. They couldn't eat fruit from a specific tree.

You guessed it, they did. Just like a 5 year old kid will eat a lump of cookie dough thirty seconds after mom tells him to stay away from it. They rebelled. From that moment, we were all toast. Sin became a part of every human being from then on.

Kind of a depressing story, yeah? According to God's Word, his manual for us clueless sacks of meat, the punishment for sin is death. Since God is perfect, sin cannot be near Him, so basically, with only this part of the story, we'd all be frying (christians too, along with the people they condemn).

BUT THAT'S NOT ALL! He sent himself as a dude to this planet to mingle with us, teach us a lot of cool stuff, (read the book of John. It's pretty interesting.) and ultimately die a horrific death on a cross for us. For us. To pay that penalty, to take our place.

That's crazy. Why on earth would a perfect God die for a rebellious, filthy lot like us?

The only answer that makes sense is that He loves us. Like crazy.

So basically, with that piece of the story, all ya gotta do is take it. Let Him know that you're fully aware that you're a dirtbag, and need Him and Him alone to take away your dirtbagginess. That's all there is to it.

So why be a christian?

Because the promise is that it doesn't stop there.

Ohhhh no.

You become a totally different person. Over and over and over and over again the new testament talks about "new life", "being transformed", and referring to sin being dead. Dead. Not even twitching. Does it mean that christians are perfect? Nah, of course not. It does mean, however, that sin does not rule them any more. Ever feel like you can't get out of all the garbage you're in? Like you're being engulfed by the world and your own dirtbagginess?

Give Jesus a try. I'll vouch for Him.

You Won't Catch Me

I wrote an essay for my nonfiction writing class, and I'm rather proud of it. Enjoy.



I laced on my shoes, the dim light filtering through the partially drawn window blinds and casting a dim gray glow on my body. I stepped outside and inhaled deeply. The air tasted of water and storm, quickly subduing the storm in my mind. All was still. The sky was filled with a thick gray woolly beast, barging its way across the heavens. The trees stood still, soldiers with their bayonets pointed straight up toward the ominous creature threatening their domain. My feet thudded against the asphalt.
The climb began. Pound. Pound. Pound. My feet meeting the hard ground was a raucous laughter in my ears, no other sound attacked me save for a lawnmower chugging in the distance. Yelling, harsh words, anger. I shook my head, trying to make sense of what had occurred, and why my mind had latched onto something with a death-grip. A breeze tickled the tips of the trees.
Pound. Pound. Pound.
“You are such a JERK!” he screamed, face filled with fury.
Pound. Pound.
“I’m getting out of here.” I headed to my room and grabbed my running shoes.
Pound. Pound. Pound.
The road ran into a canyon, my path squeezed between two rocky looming giants. The beast in the sky began to descend, its massive gray coat darkening, becoming looming raven’s wings and dimming the light even more. The giants folded their gray, boulder covered arms and stood to bar my way, laughing along with the noise of my feet hitting the ground and the beast in the sky.
I turned along a dirt trail that ran across one of the giants’ arms. Allied with the invader lurking the heavens, he called for help. A prick on my neck, and the raven-winged beast began assailing me.
The water came down in torrents, hurled at me with no mercy.
I reveled in the assault.
Water streamed down my face, soaked my shirt, my shorts, and my shoes. My whole body began to numb. The trail swerved, shifted, rose, and fell. Loose rocks threatened to trip me, small frowning warriors called to action by the indignant mountain. My eyes were wide, quivering with undivided attention to the attack on my world. My legs pulsed, energy coursed through them.
Furious, the beast hurled a solid bar of light at the ground, his angry animal yell shaking my body with overwhelming ferocity. Undeterred, I pressed on. Flash. Boom.
Hoarse screams pursued me from my house, sending chills up my spine bigger than the ones the beast managed to conjure in me. I crested a hill and stopped, my mind becoming silent as my legs ceased to move. Turning, I faced the valley below the giant I had encroached upon. I gasped.
Thin gray fingers, a shredded curtain, reached down from the beast as it unleashed its fury on the earth. Large flashes illuminated the dim scene, quickly followed by tremendous blasts, a thousand cannons firing in unison. Water poured down as if the Lord Almighty had lent a heavenly fire-hose to this demonic gray beast. The air beneath the turmoil was clear, giving me a razor sharp view for miles. The mountain ridges on the other side of the valley were shimmering knife-edges, each tree clearly outlined and still pointed resolutely at the massive invader overhead, if shaking a bit more than usual. The houses seemed bright and new, as if they had all been called into existence just this morning. The grass was a deep, shimmering viridescence that swayed and flowed in the wind, a stark contrast to the gloom overhead.
The storm rocked the hinges of the world as I knew it.
But I stood.
Wet, shaking, cold. But I stood.
And I was enjoying it.

Laughing, I sprinted down the hill, thumbing my nose at the furious beast hurling
white-hot spears at me. You won’t catch me. Not yet.