A Piece of My Mind: Alcohol.

Good 'ol alcohol.  Booze, hooch, brews, brewskis, hard stuff, juice, grog, sauce.*  As many of you already know, I'm not too much of a fan of alcohol.  I have never been drunk and I have tasted alcohol only on a select few occasions and haven't been too partial to the flavor either.

Yet I think my attitude towards alcohol has a tendency to become slightly misconstrued.  Allow me to give you a piece of my mind...

1.)  I do not like the idea of being drunk, and I'm not too fond of drunk people, either.  Why, you may ask?  Put shortly, it's because being drunk changes who you are... Drunk Daniel and Daniel are not the same person.  And I don't like the idea of not being me.**  I've heard the argument made that being drunk removes your inhibitions, so it makes you who you really are.  I think that's a load of dookie.  My inhibitions make me who I am, and therefore removing them makes me who I am not.

As far as other people drinking goes, the same principle applies.  I am friends with my friends because I like who they are, their sense of humor, their actions, and many other things about them.  Yet when someone gets drunk, they're really no longer that person I became friends with.  They have different attitudes toward things - they think different things are funny and different things are serious.  They do things they don't usually do.  They go about decision making in a different way.  Realize here that I am in no way saying that when a friend gets drunk, we are no longer friends.  I still like them, I still want to hang out with them, and I still care for them.  I'm simply explaining my reasoning behind my dislike for drunkenness.

2.)  I do not consider drinking a "sin."  Jesus drank and Jesus lead a perfect, sinless life.  End of argument there.  I do not, however, like the idea of breaking the law and drinking underage.  I will drink when I'm 21, and that's fine with me.  Sometimes I honestly think that lowering the drinking age would be good simply because it would get people over the thrill of drinking early, so we don't have 19 and 20 year-olds bragging about "how totally crud-faced I got last night" so much.  If you're old enough to own a gun and vote on the fate of the country, you should be able to have a beer.

3.)  I think people put alcohol on way too high of a pedestal.  By this, I mean that people have a tendency to become dependent on alcohol to have a good time or even an interesting time.  I once heard a friend of mine explain to me, "but Daniel, I'm funny when I get drunk."  This was a friend whom I consider to be one of the funniest people alive.  She's made me laugh more times than I can count.  And all of those times, she was completely sober.  That comment conveyed a mindset of reliance on alcohol... as if she's starting to think that she can only be funny while drunk.  I think a similar mindset permeates many of my peers.  Drinking goes from a way to have fun to the way to have fun.

Notice I did not say that drinking isn't fun.  From what I hear from a number of people, it's a hoot.  I don't doubt that, it's just that a reliance on alcohol seems to develop a lot of times.  I'm also not saying that everyone who gets drunk becomes dependent on it and consequently becomes an alcoholic. .. that's just silly.

4.) I'm a little bit afraid of drunk people.  I'm pretty sure this originates from the first time I ever saw my dad drunk.  He came home one night and was unusually rowdy and loud.  I didn't understand why he was acting so different, but it kinda frightened me.  He wasn't acting like Dad, he was acting like a stranger who's company I didn't enjoy.  I was pretty young, so I went into my room and got in a box.***  My brother or sister (I forget which, but it was probably Jake,) came to see what I was up to and then ran to my dad yelling, "He's hiding in a box!"  Everyone had a good laugh at my expense.  That was my first encounter with drunkenness, and I was not too impressed.****

I hope this post has successfully conveyed my opinion towards alcohol and my reasoning behind those opinions.  Let me know if you have any questions or concerns.

Thanks for reading,

-Daniel K

*I Google-searched "nicknames for alcohol" for those.  Hope you liked 'em.

**This is more or less the same reason I don't like the idea of being high, taking sleeping medicine, or even pain relievers...  I'm just not too keen on not being who I am.  I know I'm being a bit extreme with the latter two, but I'm okay with that.

***It was a thing I used to do a lot.  It didn't have to be boxes, either.  Laundry baskets and closets worked just as well.

****The point here is not my dad, the point is being drunk.  I'm not mad at my dad and I'm not accusing him of ruining my life or scarring me or any of that nonsense.  But I honestly think that's where my fear of drunkenness came from.

A Piece of My Mind: Christian Soldiers.

I consider myself a pacifist.  I honestly do, and I thought I'd start out by re-iterating that for you all.  Much to the chagrin of many other Christians,* I don't like the idea of Christians taking up a sword (or a gun, as things are nowadays,) and attacking the enemy.  I realize this is a pretty big statement, so please allow me the privilege of unpacking it a little for you.

I have several problems with the "onward, Christian soldiers, onward" mentality as it is perceived today.  They are as follows;

1.)  The "enemy."  To be both brief and blunt, I think a lot of Christians confuse who exactly the enemy is.  Believe it or not, the "enemy" is not the Christian persecutor.  The "enemy" is not the rapist.  The "enemy" is not the murderer or the drunk driver or the belligerent atheist.  They are not our enemies.  I think Donald Miller put it pretty well when he said;

"The problem is not a certain type of legislation or even a certain politician; the problem is always the same that it always has been.  I am the problem.  I think every conscious person, every person who is awake to the functioning principles within his reality, has a moment where he stops blaming the problems in the world on group think, on humanity and authority, and starts to face himself.  I hate this more than anything.  This is the hardest principle within Christian spirituality for me to deal with.  The problem is not out there: the problem is the needy beast of a thing that lives in my chest."**

I am the problem.  Doesn't that just send shivers down your spine?  It's not country music or the American Dream or rich people or ignorance.  It's me.  Say that out loud; "I am the problem."  To the Christians out there: I think that as followers of Christ, we delude ourselves into thinking that surely we are not the problem.  I mean, we are sooooo righteous and pious.  We are so knowledgeable about the Bible, about good and evil, about sin and salvation.  It can't be us.  Its them.  They are the problem.  They are the enemy.

I disagree with who Christians perceive as the enemy.  I have lied, I have stolen, I have used God's name in vein, and I have looked lustfully.  Therefore I am a liar, I am a thief, I am a blasphemer, and I am an adulterer.  I am, we are.

2.)  The "sword."  Let me preface this with a little Scripture.  It's out of 2 Corinthians chapter 10, and it's verses 3-5; "For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does.  The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world.  On the contrary, they have divine powers to demolish strongholds.  We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ."

Now then, about this sword.  I think the weapons we use to do justice are, quite frankly, a slap in the face to God.  A major issue I have with killing is this: who am I (or even who are you,) to play Judge, Jury, and Executioner?  Because last I checked, that was God's department.  Did God command the Israelites to wage war and massacre people in the Old Testament?  Of course He did.  But that's just it - He did.  Not the Israelites.  Not Moses or Joshua or David.  I have some big misgivings when we step into God's place and say, "you die, you die, you die, you can live, and you die."***  Call me crazy, but that just doesn't seem like our specialty.

So what is the sword, you might ask?  After all, Jesus Himself said, "Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth.  I did not come to bring peace, but a sword (Matthew 10:34)."  As Christians we seek to imitate Christ.  And Christ had a freakin' sword, so why don't we?  I say that we do, we just suck at using it.

Our "sword" is not an M-16, a Glock, a grenade, or an M1-Abram tank.  I see these as an arrogant declaration of independence from God.  Shooting someone is like saying, "God, I know you can't really help me here, so I've got it covered.  Bang.  All taken care of.  Busy Yourself with something You're good at, like cooking up some thunderstorms."

Here's what got me thinking that: In Romans chapter 8, verses 9-11, the apostle Paul writes this, "You, however, are controlled not by the sinful nature but by the Spirit, if the Spirit of God lives in you.  And if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he does not belong to Christ.  But if Christ is in you, your body is dead because of sin, yet your spirit is alive because of righteousness.  And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit, who lives in you."  My initial thought was this: wait, what?  "the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you."  So I have that Spirit in me?

Again in 2 Timothy, we read "For God did not grant us a spirit of timidity, but a Spirit of love, power, and self-control (1:7)."  This leads me to ask a question of Christians: If we have within us the Spirit of God Almighty, Who keeps the universe spinning, Who built not only every star but also every molecule in our cells, why are using guns?

One day, Jesus was walking with His disciples and He told them this: "I tell you the truth, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only can you do what was done to the fig tree, [Jesus had withered it by command] but you can also say to the mountain, 'Go, throw yourself into the sea,' and it will be done (Matthew 21:19)."  I have that Spirit, that power inside of me.  And I want to use a gun to defend myself?  I want to use a knife to protect others?

Our sword is not a sword at all.  Neither is it a gun.  It is the Spirit of the great I Am, the King of kings and Lord of lords.  That is the Christian's sword.  Is it even out of it's sheath?

A few concluding thoughts.  Realize that in no way am I saying that as Christians we should sit back and let things happen.  I believe that was Adam's first sin - inaction.**** If anything, we are the ones who should be blazing the trails for justice and peace in this world.  We should be on the front lines, we should be the first in and the last out.  But we need to be in this world and not of it.  We need to embrace the turmoil and injustice of the world without responding in a equally disastrous way.  We should boldly step forward to end poverty, to fight homelessness, to free slaves, to rescue trafficked women, and to defend the weak.  And we should do this by the Spirit and Power of God, recognizing that the enemy is not the terrorist or the communist, but the filthy nature within all of us, the slave master holding so many captive.  Maybe instead of aiming to kill the terrorist, we should be aiming to set him free as we have been set free.^

Thanks for reading,

-Daniel K

*Maybe not many Christians, but at least a good few.

**Donald Miller, Blue Like Jazz.  Seriously... read it.

***I guess this brings up the issue of God's sovereignty.  God is completely sovereign, meaning nothing happens that trumps His will, right?  So technically, aren't we accomplishing God's will by killing them?  Because if it was against His will, He would stop it... divine intervention.  I think that here we apply the principle, "good is the enemy of the best."  God will have His will done, that we can be sure of.  But are we going to make it more and more convoluted or are we going to do everything we can to resonate with it?

****Honestly, if there are only two people on Earth, they're in perfect communion with God, they're the opposite gender and they're naked, do you think they'd be apart?  What the heck were you doing when the serpent was seducing your wife, Adam?!

^How do we do this?  How exactly do we harness this awesome power and use it to change the world?  To be honest, I have no idea.  I'm still working out how that works, and accordingly what my life should look like.  I'll keep you up-to-date on how that goes.

A Piece of My Mind: Maturity.

I've decided to do something completely new with my blog - I'm going to do a series!*  It's called "A Piece of My Mind," and each blog I will explain why I think what I think in regards to a certain topic.  Today's topic: Maturity.

*          *           *           *

For a long time, I have had some bad experiences with the word "maturity."  A lot of people in my life have attached a negative connotation to it, really.  I remember my frequent run-ins with Mrs. Gardener, who would year after year ask me when I was going to "grow up."  I remember teachers chiding us in middle to school to act more mature.  I remember my peers ceasing to do harmless, fun activities and pick up more mature activities like drinking and partying.

I've heard a lot of definitions for the word.  Webster defines "mature" primarily as "based on slow, careful thought."  I once heard someone suggest that maturity is "denying your passions," and someone else explain it to me as "acting like a normal person."

I have a problem with all of these definitions.  First, I put absolutely no slow, careful thought into going to bed early when I have to work in the morning, yet that is a mature decision.**  Secondly, denying your passions doesn't hold up in a Christian context... our passion is supposed to be to serve and glorify God, and denying ourselves of that would be pitiful.  Third, what exactly is a normal person?  I will give my Macbook and my Triumph to whoever can answer that accurately.

I think Senora Lozada defined maturity correctly when she said, "maturity is knowing when something is appropriate and when something is inappropriate."  Ecclesiastes says that "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven (3:1)."  There is a time to play silly games, a time for goofing off, and a time for laughing at stupid jokes.  Consequently, there is a time for dressing up, for being somber, and for discussing serious matters.

I think too many people operate under a false definition of maturity and as such act out maturity in an incorrect manner.  Worse of all, these people attempt to project this faux-maturity onto others.  Don't act silly, that's not mature.  Don't play games, those aren't mature.  Act like this... like me.  This is mature.  I am mature.  I think there is the potential for great danger in that thought.

When we realize that there is a time for everything, we gain a sense of freedom.  So that means I can do this, something that I used to love to do in middle school, but now seems immature?  I can feel this way, even though it is a very high-school-like feeling?  I would argue yes.  As a famous president once said, "yes we can."***  Now I recognize that there are things we used to do in middle school or high school or whatever that are, in fact, unhealthy or unnecessary.  I'm not saying do everything, but I'm saying it's okay to do some things.  I hope that makes sense...

In the end, I want to extol you to reflect on this definition of maturity.  See how it plays into your everyday life.  I also would like some feedback... what do you have to say?  Can you think of a better definition of maturity?  Do tell.

Thanks for reading,

-Daniel K

*Cue rejoicing.

**I realize that one could argue this point.  Maybe I don't always put slow, careful thought into going to bed, but rather that slow, careful thought took place some time ago and I am operating under it still.  I would argue that that is common sense based on experience.  That being said, I think Webster has the closest thing to a good definition I've seen.

***Well, I thought it was clever...

Girls.

Before I begin, I would like to mention that this is actually only my 85th post. A friend of mine pointed out my mistake, and I realized the discrepancy at once. You see, on my "Blogger Dashboard," it says this very post is number 102. However, I have only published 85 of them.* So basically, I was once again fooled by the Machine Mastermind and made the fool of.**

* * * *

I just finished watching the movie "Gran Torino." I thought it would be a ridiculous, over-the-top action movie of sorts, blown way out of proportion and lacking a good story. Yet I was pleasantly surprised. I hope everyone out there has seen it, but in case you haven't I'm not going to ruin it for you... Go immediately and indulge.***

There are a lot of things I could focus on when reflecting on the movie, but one stuck out to me more than the rest as I watched. About three quarters of the way through the film, the major conflict is introduced. Gang members do a drive-by shooting of Walt's (Clint Eastwood's character's) neighbors. The neighbor's daughter, Sue, is nowhere to be found until she finally turns up beaten and raped a few hours later. Walt goes into his house and breaks some crud in his anger, then sits down for a while to think.

Shifting gears a little bit, I want to bring to light two different experiences that made this scene so powerful. The first is Dr. Watson's "Exploring World Cultures: Emphasis on the Middle East" class I took last semester. Each class, Dr. Watson would begin by opening with a discussion or debate on an assigned essay or news article from the Middle East of today, then delve into the history of the area for the remaining time. During a few of these discussions, he would remind us that every day in the world, thousands upon thousands of girls and women are trafficked and sold into sexual slavery.**** Yet we as humans (or, dare I say, Americans) have this tendency to ignore the horrible things happening in the world around us and focus on what makes us feel comfortable, secure, important. (Did you hear what Barack Obama said about the Bush administration?! How dare he!)

The second tributary to this emotional scene was a speech I heard from Donald Miller once. He was talking about our lives as stories and what that means as far as how we should live them. He talked about the protagonist in a story, and how he or she should be portrayed in order to get the audience to like him or her. Miller referenced the newest Rocky movie and highlighted how the directors had Balboa fathering a fatherless child, helping a single mom carry groceries, and changing light bulbs. Those seem like meaningless details, but in reality the authors of the story were setting up the audience to like Rocky. That way, when the final fight scene came, everyone wanted Rocky to win. If the authors had failed here, no one would care if Rocky got K.O.ed or not.

Jumping back to Gran Torino and Sue's savage beating/rape, I found myself feeling legitimately angry at the guys who did that to her. I sympathized with Walt for punching holes in his cabinets and kicking things over. I wanted to do the same. You see, the directors had set me up for this. As Donald Miller pointed out, they had portrayed Sue as an intelligent, upbeat, confident girl. A very attractive girl. A protagonist who I wanted to see win. Yet she didn't. When she showed up at the door, face horribly bruised, blood running down her leg, I felt like retching.^

Yet like I always do when I get a strong emotional pull from a movie (whether that be fear, joy, or anger), I took a step back and thought about the events out of the film context. This usually works because, for example, I realize that there are no such things as radioactive mutants out to get me, and that I am not in fact on the football team that just lost the championship title. Yet when I did that with Gran Torino, I came face to face with an appalling truth. Girls are beaten and raped on a daily basis. There was no stepping out of that conflict.

In fact, taking that conflict out of the context of the film made it even more appalling. It made me even more angry. How many intelligent, upbeat, confident girls get raped every year? Dr. Watson would say thousands and thousands.

I'm at a crossroads here because I consider myself to be a pacifist. I don't think it's right for a person to kill another person, period.^^ Yet I legitimately wanted to kill those guys in the movie Gran Torino for doing that. I legitimately would enjoy sinking my fist into a man's face over and over and over if I knew he had raped a girl.^^^

I really don't have a concluding thought on this just yet. It's definitely something I'm going to have to work out between the Man Upstairs and myself.


Thanks for reading,

-Daniel K




*Hmmm, what are those other 17 posts that were not published, you might wonder? I should start a "Commander Awesome Premium Membership." For only $10/month, you can get FULL access to all blogs, published or otherwise. Genius!
**Touche, artificial intelligence... touche.
***Though I will warn you that Clint Eastwood has what we in the adult world call a "potty mouth."
****This was always followed by an exhortation to stop this injustice.... one of the reasons I like Dr. Watson so much.
^Then I felt like killing.
^^I would go into more detail here, but that's a subject for another blog.
^^^Maybe the key here is realizing the difference between my immediate emotional reaction - the will of the flesh - and my prayerful, lasting reaction - the will of the Spirit. I dunno...

Genius.

Before I begin, I would like to say that this is officially my 101st blog post. So yeah, feel free to mail your gifts* to my CCU address, and I'll pick them up next time I sweep through campus.**

Also, many of you are probably wondering what my last post was all about. Basically, the head of my work has a Google web crawler which scans the internet constantly and trawls up any pages with the phrase "[Insert title of my last post here.]" So from now on, I won't call it [Insert title of my last post here,] I'll instead call it "E.C." It's no big deal that my boss found out about it, I guess, but it was just weird to walk into work one morning and have everyone comment on my blog...

Anyway, on to business.

* * * *

I went down to Texas a few weeks ago on my motorcycle to visit a very good friend of mine. It was probably the best thing for me at the time, because I was getting way too caught up in papers, studying, planning, and the like. My time in Texas was marvelous and it was so good to meet with my old friends. Robbie once said to me, "it's not like we're [Stacy and himself] going to be dead or anything. We'll just be in a different place hundreds of miles away." Yet when I hugged him that weekend for the first time in years, it felt like he had really come back from the dead. I had forgotten how tall he is.

My friendship with Robbie is the kind of friendship I hope to achieve with a lot of people. We picked up right where we left off, disregarding the two and a half years we had been apart. We exchanged stories, laughed, and delved into God's Word just as we had back in Nevada. It was great.

My second night in Texas, Johnny, Robbie, and myself went to a Phil Wickam/Charlie Hall concert at a church. Charlie Hall was alright, but Phil*** really made my night. He did so through a single song which has been in and out of my mind excessively as of late. It's called "Beautiful," and it is a praise song to God. The forth verse goes like this:

"When we arrive at eternity’s shore
Where death is just a memory and tears are no more
We’ll enter in as the wedding bells ring
Your bride will come together and we’ll sing
You’re beautiful"

When he sang that, I had such a vivid image in my mind of Heaven that my eyes began to tear up. It'd been a long, long time since a song had done that to me.****

* * * *

A friend of mine from back home recently blogged about being smart (among other things). It really caused me to think about intelligence, and about genius more specifically. I man, what is genius? I don't want the scientific answer involving IQ, rather I wonder about what true genius really means. I'll see people who are "blow-me-out-of-the-water smart," but then they go and do something really dumb, which leads me to believe that genius is not all about intellect. I'll see people reading books and books and books, without ever caring to write a captivating story with their own lives, which leads me to believe that genius is active. I'll see people who are super-smart acting callously towards others, which leads me to believe that geniuses interact with the world regularly. I'll see people who possess brilliance and use it for the sole purpose of furthering their own agenda, which leads me to believe that genius is to a certain degree about others.

I don't think I'll ever come to a conclusion about the true definition of genius, but I find myself recognizing genius most often when I see someone do something I can't do. When I saw Caleb on the Academic Team my freshman year answering obscure questions about European history, or when I saw Stephanie find the third derivative of sin(x) - cos(x) in about an eighth of a second or when I saw John Scott sawing on the fiddle or when I saw Hans swoop in from the rafters to block a basketball, I exclaimed to myself, "Wow! That is genius!"

I think about what beauty there is in genius. How it sort of inspires this reverence and awe and leaves a buzzing in the mind of those who witness it. Standing in that darkened church in Texas, next to Robbie, with the words of "Beautiful" being sung all around me, I couldn't help but hold back tears at the thought of God's genius.

However, as it is written: "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him"
-1 Corinthians 2:9


Thanks for Reading,

-Daniel K



*Acceptable gifts include: A pack of wolves, a new bike, $29,000 in unmarked bills, a gyrocopter, and Pez.
**Which is something I try hard to avoid. It's way too depressing to see CCU sans-students.
***That's right. Phil. We're on a first-name basis and I let him borrow my motorcycle on Thursdays and weekends.
****In case you're wondering, the last time was Ray Bolts' "Thank You For Giving To The Lord," when Luke Everett signed it to us at Hume Lake. Talk about beautiful.

Environment Colorado.

(Just checking to see if Big Brother is still watching me...)


Thanks for being paranoid,

-Daniel K

P.S. In the mean time, take a gander at this adorable kitten:

Door-to-Door Observations.

As I'm pretty sure a lot of you already know, I am currently employed for the summer by Environment Colorado, a group currently working to triple the amount of electricity Colorado gets from solar panels. It's interesting work. I mean, the "meat and potatoes" of my work is canvassing, meaning I'm that guy who knocks on your door in the middle of dinner and asks you to be interested in something you're not.*

That being said, it's actually been really enlightening for me over these past couple of days. Such a different environment and focus has shifted my thoughts to things I haven't ever really paid attention to before. For example;

1.) I spend a HUGE amount of my time trying to get other people to like me. I didn't notice this until people started immediately DISliking me upon seeing me. I was getting really stressed out today when so many people made a snide remark and shut the door while I was talking, and I finally realized it's because it's so opposite to what I usually aim for. When meeting new people, I always want to do whatever it takes to impress them or interest them. So having a lot** of people see me and immediately put on that "shut up and leave" face kinda gets to me. I wonder why I spend so much time getting others to like me...?

2.) When I own a house here in America,*** I'm going to be really nice to whoever comes to my door. No, seriously... really nice. I don't care if they're selling something, campaigning, or trying to convert me to Neo-Buddhist Islam. I'm going to treat them like they are a person who deserves respect. I didn't think about this until I had a guy take one look at me, flip me off, and slam the door. Groovy.

3.) Apparently no one spends the night in their own house anymore. I'll talk to someone and they'll say, "I can't really talk right now, it's a bad time." I'll ask if I can come back later and they'll respond, "probably not. We're going out tonight."**** I understand if you don't care about solar power, just let me know.

4.) You can really see the isolation of Americans by walking around neighborhoods. Everyone has fences, multiple locks, warning signs, peepholes, intercoms, and all avoid eye contact with one another. It's sad, really.

5.) Diction is EVERYTHING. It's not a monthly paymentt plan, it's a monthly giving plan. You don't say, "Why don't you take a look at this, it's our statement of support," you say, "Here, look at this. It's our statement of support."

6.) 'Christians' who decorate their entryway with "God Bless America" and "As for me and my house, we will follow the LORD" paraphernalia should act as if they actually believe this. Despite my Environment Colorado shirt and clipboard, I'm actually a person on the inside.


Thanks for reading and I'll be coming soon to a door near you,*****

-Daniel K






*Despite my tone here, It's pretty good work in reality. I'm just being real with everyone.
**And I mean A LOT
***Which may be unlikely if I plan to live somewhere oversees, like in a third world country. Or on Mars.
****Seriously. Out of the 56 people I talked to today, about 8 of them said that exact phrase.
*****That is, if you live in the Denver area.

R.I.P

R.I.P
The Commissioner
Came into my ownership: May 2008
Was callously stolen from me: May 2009


Sometimes I can really relate to Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof when he says, "Dear God. Was that necessary? Did you have to make him [Tevye's horse] lame just before the Sabbath? That wasn't nice. [...] Really, sometimes I think, when things are too quiet up there, you say to yourself, 'Let's see. What kind of mischief can I play on my friend, Tevye?' "

I know we won't always (or even most of the time) understand why God does what He does. I mean, after a while of God's plans mystifying, confusing, and frustrating me, you'd think I'd be used to their nature. Yet when we drove up from a day in the field* and I saw my lock sitting on the ground, sans bike, I couldn't help but think, "Really, God? That wasn't very nice."

Now I realize that the Commissioner wasn't exactly the most expensive or classy bike out there, but what made this theft even more of a supreme bummer was the fact that I had just ("Just" as in "8 ours before") paid $107 to get new wheels and tubes installed on it.

Yet as I waited for my ride to show up, I couldn't help but be thankful that God is a God to Whom we can take our emotions to - all our emotions. He isn't a God who only accepts happiness and smiles. He's a God I can be real with and say, "Seriously? what the heck!"


Thanks for reading,

-Daniel K




*Oh yeah, work is really great in case anyone's wondering. I'm excited for it.

I'm Wondering...

I was just on craigslist looking for cheap places to stay in Denver,* and I saw something that makes me wonder. I entered a minimum rent of $0 and a maximum rent of $300. Scanning through the results, I saw several ads labeled, "$127/Mo., Sober Housing." I thought to myself, 'Well, I'm a pretty sober guy, that sounds perfect!'

When I checked it out, however, I saw that it's actually housing for people recovering from alcohol or other drugs. For $127/Month they can stay at these places, whereas all the other places were well over $300. I made the comment, "This is so dumb! They shouldn't be rewarded for messing up!" My room mate called me on it, saying I was being really judgmental.

So I'm wondering... what do you think? Is it being judgmental to be upset at that?

I heard a story a while ago about a man who defaulted on his home loan. He saw an ad, however, for a better loan - one with a LOT lower interest and better payment plans. He told a friend about it, but when his friend applied, they denied him because he hadn't defaulted on any loans. "So basically," the man's friend said, "I couldn't get the loan because I had been responsible and had faithfully paid off my own loan. Whereas this guy was able to get it because he had gotten in over his head, messed up, and had to bail."

I'm really torn here. I mean, it seems SO unjust to reward people for making dumb mistakes, you know? For example, I don't support the bailout because it sends the message that "if you mess up, we'll just bail you out! So do whatever!" Now don't get me wrong - I'm not saying there should be no grace. God knows I would be messed over if He didn't show me grace. But we can redeem mistakes without condoning them. And I kinda think that the $127/Mo rent sends the message, "because you messed up, we'll reward you!"

Shouldn't they offer cheaper places to stay for college students who are working their butts off to learn? Yet now I think I'm being prideful. Uhg.


Thanks for reading,

-Daniel K



*Don't freak out... merely a precaution.

Bored Over Finals Week.

Enjoy!







Thanks for... watching

-Daniel K


P.S. Thanks to Sarah for mailing me a Club Car key.

Twists and Turns.

Okay all you avid readers out there. Here's the latest:

I was talking one day with my good friend Mingy, who's going to college in Salem, Oregon. I mentioned to her that I may be out of the fire crew job this summer* and she mentioned that I should get a job with Fund for the Public Interest, which is an environmental group with branches in a lot of states. I went to their website (www.jobsthatmatter.org, if anyone is curious,) and applied for a position in Portland (where Mingy is working,) in addition to one here in Denver. The next day, I received a call from the Denver office asking for an interview. I went in earlier today, talked with RJ the supervisor, and he was really excited to offer me the position.** In fact he said that I'll be hired on as a regular 'ol canvasser, but immediately be placed in training to become a field manager. Sweet!

So for everyone freaking out to know, the job pays anywhere from $400 to $600 per 40-hour workweek for a canvasser, and $450 to $650 per week for field managers. The pay is based on a $7.28/hour guaranteed rate, and then 45% of anything over $100 you raise per day.

Sounds pretty sweet, right? But I know what you're thinking - "Daniel, wherever will you stay in Denver? You'll have to pay rent, which means you won't get nearly as much to save for school as you need!"

Yet I say unto you; "Do not fret! For God is awesome and provides for us in sweet ways!" Example: My RA, Nick, roomed with this guy named Ken Love*** last year. Now it just so happens that K-Love works at a hotel not too far from campus, and they're letting him stay in a 3-bedroom, 6-bed suite FOR FREE over the summer. He only has three other roommates, so I asked him today if I could tag along, and he said yes!

But wait! There's more! You may remember some earlier posts I did regarding the strange phenomenon that happens downtown when I play rhythms on a bucket. My plan: direct deposit all my money from Environment Colorado, then use money raised from playing downtown (average of $60 per night,) to cover other expenses such as food, gas, and bicycle maintenance.

So basically, within the past 48 hours, God's gotten me hired onto a sweet job, a free apartment for the summer, and even a plan to cover the other crud that doesn't really matter.

What the heck?! Two days ago I was planning on road tripping back to Nevada and begging the fire guys to let me onto their crew. Talk about twists and turns!


Thanks for reading,

-Daniel K

P.S. In case you're wondering, I am extremely bummed that I won't get to chill with Hans, the Johns, Mom, Dad, Jake, and Sarah this summer. That's the one thing that sucks REALLY BAD about all of this. But I will still be there for graduation, Sarah. And I may even wear clothes to it.



*I hope everyone reading this blog is caught up on all that. If not, the basics are as follows: Since I am in Colorado, I could not make it back to Nevada to take the drug test or pack test to get back on the crew, so they stuck me on the wait list until further notice... along with the other 100+ applicants they had this year. Never mind seniority. So I would have to wait until someone quit/got fired to get a spot. Did I mention there's over 100 applicants?
**Based on my involvement on campus and my philosophy on apathetic Americans.
***Yeah... that's really his name. Awesome!

A (School) Year in Review.

Well folks, here it is! I've finished up my last week of classes and all that remains are the final tests. Cake.

It's been an amazing experience living here in Colorado.* I started out the year decorating my walls and absolutely petrified of how my classes would be, and now I'm ending it by taking down all my posters and wondering what essay questions Dr. Watson will give us on our Middle Eastern History final.

I remember asking Nick, Scott, Teddy, and Austin** at the beginning of the year about classes; were they hard your freshman year? Were the professors nice? Was the homework crazy? Did I have to read ALL these books? I remember getting here second out of my four roommates, meeting Dan, and then speculating about the other two. "Yeah, I think this Mike guy is pretty hardcore," Dan told me, "I saw his Facebook pictures and he looked pretty legit. Plays guitar and likes metal."***

I remember our first day of classes, when we were awakened at 4 AM by our RA and RARs to go up to Red Rocks amphitheater and have our FYI**** looking out over Denver as the sun rose. The time the whole Ghetto Stairwell went to Casa Bonita, ate horrible Mexican food, and pretended it was someone's birthday so the Mariachi band would serenade us. The time I tried out for the Chapel Team and got schooled by Dan the Man, who I've decided can bend space/time to play the drums at unheard-of speeds.

I remember the relief felt at midterms when I realized that college, although harder, is still just school... and I can handle school. The time I finished my first-ever 10-page college essay and handed it in to Professor DeVore with an enormous feeling of accomplishment. The time I slept in through class due to an extremely late night and was amazed that no one haggled me about it.^ The time Austin, Dan the Man and I decided at 11 PM on Halloween night to ride our bikes downtown, and stayed out until 4 AM biking around the streets.

I remember visiting home and how fun it was to see all my old friends again, yet realizing how quickly I came to miss my Ghetto family. How I reflected for a while about how strange it is that we have so many relationships in our lives that we take for granted. How I learned the techniques for dumpster diving, table swooping, and ticket clipping, then reaped the benefits of other's trash.^^ How I spent my mornings alone in the tiny Prayer Chapel and felt so much more collectd throughout the day.

I remember feeling grateful towards the hard times in my life; for when I took a full class load my senior year of high school, because it prepared me excellently in the "time management" department. For the times my mom and dad punished me for doing stupid things, because they caused me to realize the faults in dumb decisions. For the times my plans fell to suck, because it taught me to be flexible. For growing up in a small town, because I learned how to make my own fun and appreciate what I have.

I remember the time Trevor asked me to be an RAR with him in the Ghetto next year, and how excited I was.^^^ The time I was admitted into the Discipleship program to be a D-Group leader for next year. The time Jarrod let me know that I'll be moving up with my 8th grade boys' small group into their freshman year.

I remember the harsh times, where I wretched and yelled. The sweet times, when I stared in wonder at the beauty around me and smiled to God for the gift. The boring times when I sat through a pointless lecture. The exhilarating times when I flew down a snow-covered slope up at Copper Mountain.

I remember coming to this simple realization: My life matters. Despite the fact that I am one in billions, I have just as much power to change this world as anyone else. And it would be an absolute shame to waste that.


Thanks for reading,

-Daniel K




*Or "Colo-rad-bro" as a friend would say
**If you recall, Nick is my RA (Residant Assistant) and Teddy, Austin and Scott are the RARs (Resident Assistant Roommates)
***Turns out Mike, or Scooter as we call him, is the farthest thing from "hardcore." But he does have some sick Facebook pics.
****FYI = Freshman Year Integration. It's like FTP except without the suck
^ Except for my conscience... I hate missing classes.
^^ I use this term loosely here, as you'd be surprised what super-wealthy people consider "trash."
^^^ And still am. It's gunna rock!