Two observations

The job I hold at Harrisburg Hospital (Patient transporter) allows me to meet a myriad of interesting people of all kinds of backgrounds and such, however, my observations do not concern their backgrounds, but their willpower as humans in a bleak and dreary atmosphere.

One person I had to move today was in the ICU for reasons I was unaware of (as a transporter, there is no need for me to know reason for admission to the hospital). For those of you who don't know, ICU stands for Intensive Care Unit, and patients admitted there are on extremely careful and meticulous care in order to be kept alive, and this gentleman in particular was under extreme medical attention. The look in his eyes when I entered his room only registered a dead emotion, nearly a lack thereof. I couldn't even tell if the man was aware of our presence there or that we were even moving him. He was on a respirator, oxygen, and a host of other medical devices meant to keep alive. This man was helpless, and he was barely 40. The thought of being 40 and on intensive care disturbed me. What would happen to this man? What chance did he even have at living again? The helpless look in his eyes gave me a certain amount of animosity, in a way. Why wasn't he trying to live? Didn't he care? Did he even deserve to be in this hospital on all the life support he needed if he was only going to waste away? What was the point, anyway?

However, one other patient changed my outlook on the first one. He was an amputee whom I had to take down for X-ray. When I saw he was missing a leg, I offered to get a nurse so I would have assistance getting him onto the stretcher. He dismissed my offer and told me to move the stretcher adjacent to the bed. I did so and placed the brake on. All he needed from me was the help to sit up. From there, he moved to the edge of the bed, stood on his good leg and pivoted around, sitting down on the litter. This nearly shocked me, as any other patient in the hospital would have probably groaned about having to be moved at all. This man, however, actually moved into the stretcher on his own and got himself situated without any assistance at all. My amazement with this man still stays with me. Even in a situation where there would seem to be no point, a man can make do with what he has and do his best.

My opinion on the first man was altered. Perhaps the look in his eyes was not dead, just distant. The fact that his heart was still beating should have been sign enough to me that he still had the will to live, and our assistance was desperately needed to make that hope be true. Maybe he couldn't move. Maybe he was incoherent in the eyes of the doctors and nurses who tended to him. One thing I know for certain, however, is that while a man still has blood in his veins and his heart remains to beat, he has will. I witnessed what I thought was true helplessness today, but now I see that there is no such thing. No one is helpless as long as the desire to live exists. To deprive a human being of such a desire is abominable and atrocious. Life is so precious, and to come to the aid of the desire and will to live is honorable in the greatest respect.

These two men have taught me this truth. Now, I teach it to you. Honor life.



Uphold it.

I absolve you

Mediocrity. The end result of our society's strive for perfection. Look about you. It is everywhere. In your job. In your music, movies, and literature. In the architecture used to build your home. In the car you drive to work.

It's in your faith.

That's right, Christian. Your faith is mediocre. Complacent. Stagnant.

It's comfortable.

This is why Christianity has come to the standstill that it's at. This is why there is no change. This is why we are still using the same methods that have not worked for years and years and have not moved an inch (in fact, we're on the downhill slope). We are comfortable where we are at. And this does not apply to one denomination, but to Christendom as a whole. Every church has found it's comfort zone and kept itself there, from Catholics to Pentecostals. Catholics with their liturgy and motions which give them a security that their "good works" will get them to heaven, and Pentecostals with their shouting at each other in tongues, competing for the spot of holiest and most seeking Christian. An image is what we have come to seek as Christians. How many Hail Mary's can we say, or how long can we rattle along in tongues without taking a breath? How holy can we look? And what has this image gotten us? Results? No!

We have our mediocrity and comfort that we look "holy" to others, when, in fact, your rolling in the aisles church makes you look ridiculous.

You may say to me "but this is how we seek the Lord!" Is it? Does your comfort make you feel close to God? Well, what if one day that comfort were ripped away from you, the rug yanked away from under your feet so you fell flat on your rear end? Are you able to defend your faith well enough that the fall isn't hard at all? What do you know about what you believe? You've bene told over and over again that theology and head knowledge about God will get you nowhere, so you've avoided it. You fear to know because you fear you will be proven wrong.

Fear inspires your complacency.

I do not blame you for your fear, Christian. Reaching into the unknown is a frightening thing to do, but let me say to you: it must be done. Know thyself. Know why you believe what you believe. 'Be prepared to give an answer." We've said over and over again that when the world asks questions, we'll just tell them we're worshiping our king. What does that mean to them? Absolutely nothing. The world longs for an answer, and that answer is pathetic. Know your faith, give them an answer.

Animal dreams and Constellations

Aside from one or two attempts at relationships, I have spent the past year and a half single. For the past year and a half, I've also begged God not to make me celibate and to show me a woman after Him whom He wants me to spend the rest of my life with. However, for the most part in these past several months, I've used the time to press more into God and come closer to Him. Still, I find myself feeling pretty lonely here and there (I know I'm not alone here, I'm just expressing emotion). My psychology book explains it as a part of the social time line. Generally, 19 is an age to begin looking for a girlfriend and most likely find one, at least in our culture. Sadly, psychology does nothing to really explain the lack of ease in meeting the demands of a social time line. Yet God has always provided for me in those lonely times, particularly last evening.

After I got home from work, I was extremely exhausted, so I took a nap. I had a dream about hummingbirds (of all things) and I recall someone explaining to me within the dream that hummingbirds mate for life and that if one of the pair dies, the other will soon follow because of the bond the pair had. Now, this isn't true of hummingbirds, but it does occur in other areas of the animal kingdom (stick with me here, it's the moral that counts). I woke up hearing Jack Johnson's song "Constellations" in which he talks about drawing constellations in the sky while his father tells stories about the stars. The combination of the dream and the song left me with an understanding that if I were to leave God, or vice versa, I would die spiritually. Life would cease to have any meaning. Albeit this is something most Christians know, but I'm beginning to see how much more important my relationship with God is than it is to have a girlfriend. Social time lines thrown to the wind, I can say (at least for the moment) that I could be happy if it were only God and I for the rest of my life, and though my fickle human emotions will fluctuate and undulate, God sees me through the deepest valleys and the highest mountains. I am His.

What Church Is Not (Or Shouldn't Be) vol 1

- Small grouping your way to salvation

- A play on your emotions to gain a spiritual high

- Free Dunkin Donuts

- Three Point Sermons

- A competition to see who can pray louder in tongues

- Rejection of the sinner

- Badgering of the newcomer

What's one more?

By all means, I should not have another blog. I have Myspace. I have Facebook. How in the name of God do I have time for something like this? It's not a matter of time anymore, my dear readers, but a matter of necessity for a spilling of my thoughts onto a webpage that isn't Facebook (too many readers to offend) or Myspace (not enough people to understand me).

So here it exists. One more membership, but this time it's to a decent looking blog. Welcome to blogspot, Mr. Frownfelter!