A Letter to the Warriors

To players and coaches alike:

     Losing has never been something that I'm okay with. Some people can give it everything they have, lose, and be okay. I guess it makes sense in theory. You did everything you could, and things didn't turn out like you anticipated. 

     I don't...get...those people.

     Losing isn't something that I easily tolerate. I'm not saying that people who deal with losses better than me are wrong. I actually envy the idea of coping with loss better than I do. Problem is, it just doesn't work. Try as I might to push the sickening feeling out of my stomach after a loss, it never goes away. When we lose a game, no matter how good the opponent was, how much we got be a by- really whether I even played in the game or not, I can't stand it. I can't sleep that night. I've actually thrown up after games just because I hated, so much, that we lost. It doesn't register with me. I'm a winner. I win. I like winning. That's the end of it, and the point I'm trying to make, I suppose. I like winning with class, and I like winning by a lot, period.

     Now that we're on the same page...

     Throughout my time as a Warrior football player, there was one thing that eased the pain of losing. A chance at winning after that. The cool thing about football is that there's always next "fill in the blank". Next practice, next week, next year. No matter what happens, you always have a chance at redemption. A chance to improve your stride. A chance to win. Last Saturday, as the clock began to bring me closer and closer to the end of my final game, the realization occurred to me that there was no next time. It was over.

     They tell you your entire senior year to give everything you have, because the worst feeling in the world is knowing that you could have done more while you had the chance. I get that, I guess. But in reality, I submit that having regrets only increases the worst feeling in the world.  Reality is that no one could ever say anything to prepare you for the feeling that whispers "its over". I was limited in my time playing football this season. When I had the chance, I did, honestly, give it all I had. Watching that clock wind down, I had no regrets. Yet, I am confident that the feeling which met me in that moment could not have been anything but the worst feeling I've felt in my life. As captain, I was blessed and honored to have lead this team. It was difficult, yes. There was pressure, yes. But I will tell you this, and players, I mean this with everything in me.

     With seconds left on that scoreboard, I felt the weight of 33 men's football season being lifted from my shoulders. No more pressure. No more anticipation. It was done. I was free from failing these fine young men, which I guess was my biggest fear. Even so, feeling the weight of captainship being removed from my shoulders was one of the heaviest, suppressing, suffocating experiences I have ever dealt with. 

     Football is weird. Really. You paint a giant rectangle on a big open field, then push and shove and sweat and bleed in order to get an oblong "ball" of some sort past a designated line. It's a guy thing. Theres no prize except the satisfaction of knowing you beat some other guys you've never met in your life. Obviously a man kinda thing. But there's something about doing just that, winning, for no other reason than the desire to win, that brings men together. We were created to fight. Created to want to win. Created to be Warriors. The Lord made us that way on purpose. The moment of truth, when both teams are lined up, one single hesitant moment before hell breaks lose for 6 seconds- that's where men bond. It's how we grow. How we learn to love. Fighting for someone else, knowing that that person is fighting just as hard, for you...lifelong friendships are built like that. 6 seconds at a time. Maybe as men, we just like sweating and running into people and competition and winning. But maybe what we actually crave is the brotherhood that is created through fighting for one another. As terrible as we are about sharing our feelings and talking about real stuff, one thing remains true, and that is that we crave, more than anything, love. I suppose The Lord made us that way on purpose as well.

     Many people like to call their close friends "family", but I'm not sure that too many of them know exactly what that means. Playing for the Warriors, playing for you, taught me this. Family is not just being there for each other and caring. Its...figuring out how to overcome things. And choosing to love each other when you don't want to. And forgiving. And crying. And shouting at the top of your lungs because you don't care who hears. It's depending on people not only o make that block or that catch but to pick you up after you fail to do so. Its being down and getting back up, coming back from behind, because there's more than your own motives riding on something. 

     This wasn't the longest of letters. There isn't too much to say except this.

     Warriors, thank you. Thank you for fighting. Thank you for loving me. For teaching me. For letting me lead you. The privilege that you provided me was more than I ever deserved, or dreamed of being blessed with. Each and every one of you mean the world to me. You've taught me more about myself then I ever could have learned anywhere else, and I do not take that lightly. You impacted me.

      I don't lose very well. You know that, but know this. The effort that the Warrior team gave this season is something that will last. It will stick with me, with you, and it will reach others for a long, long time. I've never been one to resort to the "no matter what the scoreboard says, you win if you do your best" thing. But right now, with it all over, I leave you with this.

     You won. You won by more than I ever thought possible. Warrior Strong.

     I have no reserves.

     I did not retreat.

     Regret is nowhere to be found.

     Thank you, Warriors, for 2015. 

Crayton Fowler

     

     

When He Is Silent

     I've never been much for speaking. I know its the main channel of communication with other people and such but even so, more often than not when I try to speak, really speak, I can't seem to quite conquer the task of illuminating my thoughts in full to those I wish to make them known.

     So I write.

     I write because it seems to be the only means by which I am capable of allowing others to see what I see. Even then, there are many times when my mind is so uncomfortably confused that not even writing could open that door without either leaving room for questions or unleashing a beast I have so affectionately named "Didn't Want to Go There". But now? Right now is a rare moment in personal history when God has decided to clear my mind, that I may write. So, not to let this moment escape without an attempt at making the most of it, I write. Yes, I have borrowed a computer which so conveniently holds at this moment a 90% full battery and yes, I have brewed a fresh cup of coffee at precisely 10:42pm. Just for you. So you may hear whatever it is God is about to lavish upon the internet through...myself.

     Believe me, I'm more scared than you are.

     There is a somewhat atrocious list of things concerning Christianity that I know are hard. I'm sure you could conjure up one yourself. Life experiences make people realize that during their walk with Christ, certain aspects are just plain difficult. Overcoming temptation, trying to muster the right words of encouragement to a brother or sister, trying to muster the right words of accountability to a brother or sister, learning how to come to Jesus after messing up...I could go on. There are, however, things concerning Christianity which I never particularly thought to be on this list. For example, letting God use me, I thought, was one of the few parts of Christianity which I assumed to be easy. I'm learning that is far from true.
     Funny the different tactics God and humans exercise as far as teaching goes. Mankind tends to adopt the "Tell 'em how it's done so they don't screw up" approach. This technique is exhibited through parenting, government, and education. The latter is usually solidified by the use of finals (I give mankind credit for many inventions of this day, finals are not one of those inventions.) I don't know about the rest of the world, but throughout my life God has seemed to enjoy the slightly more painful, much more effective "Here's what to do, but you're going to screw up, so when you're done trying on your own, I'm here" technique. As much as this way hurts, I'll take it over finals any given day.
     Back to assuming my significance, I guess I can blame the Bible. It's only a giant book of historical accounts about God using people that are hopelessly useless. Weak, broken, insignificant people through whom God expresses His power. Many times these people start off closely resembling myself and by the end looking more like nothing I've ever experienced. This, I suppose, is the reason I have always assumed that my usefulness to Christ is simply- there. What I fail to remember is the fact that while all of those people spoken of in the Bible were weak, insignificant, useless people, they all had to make a choice at one point or another, sometimes many points, to choose God. To choose faith. They were all faithful, some more than others and others much more than some. Even so, over and over, the Bible shows God to work through weak, broken, insignificant, faithful people. To dig even deeper, not only did God work through these people's faith, but He specifically chose the people of whom He knew would be faithful. So I propose the question, to you, to myself, when God decides to use me, will I have the faith to allow Him to?
       I try to fix so many things on my own. You can take a guess at how many of those things I've succeeded in fixing. In round numbers, the answer is zero. In fact, approximately every percent of the time I recall making things worse, and I don't mean to jump to conclusions, but I'll bet that I'm not alone, either. I'm weak, I'm broken, and most of the time I feel sufficiently insignificant, probably because I spend so much time trying, and trying, and trying again to be significant, instead of allowing Him to be the significance in me.
     Life is hard, and following Christ only makes it 100x harder. It's priceless in worth, I know, but sometimes it's just so hard to see! As I said before, I am weak. Struggling through life every day wondering what my purpose is and how I'm supposed to be used by Christ both today and for the long-haul, and not seeing any glimpse of assurance that I'll ever make any kind of impact on the world is exhausting. It's exhausting to sit quietly in faith, especially when my faith is so horribly weak, and the only thing that makes it strong in the slightest feels a thousand miles away. It's hard not knowing where to go and when while the only One who knows has decided to be quiet at the moment. It's tiresome, getting so close to tasting the true holiness of the King and then failing, again, in sin. Utter sin. Sin is a tiresome thing, and I am trapped. It's in my very nature. Why would I be surprised if Christ seems distant when I've deliberately tried to run the opposite direction? It's exhausting to be searching for Him, flat on the ground, balling every tear miserably, pleading for an answer, a word, a whisper. It doesn't even have to make any sense so long as I know that it was there. Silence. Following Christ is hard.
      I fear that one day, after waiting for so, so long, the opportunity will come. The opportunity to show faithfulness to my King. I fear failing. It's a strange thing, being saved by Grace and still living in the world. Clean, and corrupted.
     It's often asked of God to give us strength. God I ask only for You to be my strength. If strength is merely given to me I will surely misuse it, or forget to use it. Lord, be my everlasting strength in my time of need, in my time of waiting. Be my encouragement to those around me. Be my wisdom in my speech and in my conduct. Lord, be my discernment. Do big things in my life, God. Be my faith. Be my faith in the time of calling. When at last I am asked to show my faithfulness, show Yourself.
     
    

The Will of God

     As the football season comes to an end, I will finally have a little spare time to write again. The key word in description of this semester would have to be none other than busy. Other candidates might be strange, incredible, teaching, and at times a bit painful. School escalated to a new-found level of horrible. God created a team. It feels as though for the first time in five years I have the privilege of practicing with thirty-something brothers that truly love each other. New relationships have grown, some older ones have slipped away, and those hurt, yes.

     God is good.

     The most prominent concern I've been struggling with for the entire semester, it seems, is this. God's will. What to do. I'm well on the latter-side of high school, which means college is closer than seems possible. What bothers me moreso than college, though, is what happens after. Life.
     I don't want to simply get through safely and find a good job. I want to further the Kingdom, whatever that looks like. I can't do that, of course. Not by myself. I need Him. I want to walk in His will, and I struggle daily with not knowing exactly what that means when it comes to decisions that I do have to make.
     I want to pour my life into the gospel, and (contrary to popular belief) that doesn't necessarily mean working at a church. Whatever I do, whoever I marry, whatever my life looks like, I want the gospel to be at the forefront of my priorities. It's so easy to forget that real life starts after all the things we stress about in this life. Taking "risks" is much more an active part of ones life when they already know the end result, not of the risk, but of the purpose behind the risk.
     I suppose the real issue, then, is not that I don't know God's will. Besides, His ultimate will is for me to love Him with everything and make disciples. Okay. Maybe the deeper problem has to do with me, trusting Him.
     There's a strange kind of brokenness which occurs while choosing Him over something else. Not so much when you choose Him over something that isn't good, but much more so when you choose Him over something or someone that is good. Something that you want more than anything.  Something you love. It hurts. Sometimes it hurts bad enough to put you flat on face in tears.

     He is better.

     There aren't many things in life that I've taught myself. Now, I don't mean teaching myself how to throw a football, or play guitar, or time-manage a life full of school. I haven't taught myself much, if anything, about who Christ is. Christ has taken that responsibility on Himself, and for good reason. Things I think are right are more often than not miserably...not right.
     This post is shorter. Mostly due to the fact that I don't exactly have much to offer when it comes to trusting God. I'm still learning, and it's hard. But to whoever does happen to read this, I guess I write this in encouragement. Trust Christ. He is good. He is better.
     

The Beauty of the Art of Serventhood

     Many things in this world are capable of breaking a heart. Destroying ones inner being by causing a pure shock of reality to impact the deepest areas of the soul. A collapsing of all the pride that had been built up in ones mind through days and weeks and still years of assuming that because they are comfortable they are pure. There are things in life that shake these ideas, these pure figments of a tiresome imagination that only lead to a desolate and unsatisfying destination, most often one that was never meant to be reached. A kind of blessing, you could call them. None however, like I have ever seen have torn my heart in complete half like what I have recently experienced.

     Nicky is fourteen years old. He has teenage hormones and feelings. Doctors would say that his brain is about as developed as that of a six or seven year old child.  He's a little over four feet tall and weighs proportionally about the same as an elephant. Born with Down's Syndrome, he's never been the most popular kid in school. He's smart. In a few weeks he will be attending Tomball High School as a freshman. His heart is one of the most beautiful and sentimental things I have ever had the privilege of knowing. His behavior- is absolutely exhausting. 

     Camp Blessing Texas is a summer camp run for both children and adults with some form of physical or mental special need. CBTX counselors take a week of their life to care for and mentor these campers on a one-to-one basis. This year I was blessed to be able to attend camp for the first time as a counselor. My story was unlike most others.

     The original camper assigned to me was named Ricky. At 22 years old, he was non-verbal, very independent, a two-year attendee of camp, generally very easy to get along with. I was excited, with it being my first year at camp I figured Ricky would be the perfect "first camper". 

     Tuesday after most campers had arrived, I remained. Waiting. No Ricky. I assumed he was simply running late and while I stood around, busying myself with camp games and songs with the staff and meeting other campers, I am pulled aside by my cabin leader who goes on to tell me that Ricky is here, and he is very sick. I eventually met Ricky, who was very quickly pulled back in the car by his care taker. Next thing I know he was gone, and I was still without a camper.

     The rest of the day was difficult to say the least. Watching everyone else run around with their child, playing games, seeing all of the hugs and knowing what a blessing those around me we're both giving and receiving. I wanted that. 

     Later that night we are told that a camper named Nicky, who had just been to camp the previous week, has been invited back and would arrive the following morning. Immediately those who knew the name started smiling a thoughtful, somewhat scared smile. "That's a plot change..." was all that was said. The rest of the night I would hear a number of stories about Nicky's shenanigans of previous years. The same smile worn by those earlier began to show itself on my own face.

     Mid-morning the next day our cabin is swimming at the camp pool when we receive word that Nicky has arrived. Everyone in the pool slowly stops as those around ask who will be his counselor for the week. I raise my hand and a staff member suggests that all lay hands on me and pray. Everyone at the pool, including the campers, proceed to do so.

     

     The smile of old turns to more of a battle-ready game face.

     Five minutes later Nicky shows up at the pool. He waves hello to all, pulls his shirt off, strips down to nothing but Tighty-Whities that are frankly much too undersized, and cannonballs smack dab in the middle of everyone. A series of laughter followed by "And there's your camper." are all that is said.

     The very first thing he does is find me, and give me the sweetest hug I've ever experienced, kisses my cheek, and smiles. He was the absolute sweetest, easiest, most loving and adorable camper there. For almost a full ten minutes.

     Nicky's behavior was torture to all around him. Constant cursing, loud and obnoxious noises for no reason at all, running off, trying to kiss every girl he saw, only participating in camp activities in the opposite ways he is asked, a constant mess seems to follow him and he honestly doesn't care who cleans it up as long as it's not him. "Make me." Was his favorite line when asked to do something. Little things throughout the day done simply to show me he didn't care, such as peeing on the floor- next to the toilet, and so, so much more that I will restrain from listing because I do have a point to make.

     Nicky was by far the worst behaved child at camp all summer, not to mention a spot in the top five most exhausting. Days went by slow. Toward the end of day two I had already begun to show signs of a short temper. I loved him, and was disappointed with the way he treated everyone around him. With the way he treated me. I had to learn the art of serventhood. 

     Often I think it is easy to view ourselves as being in the position I was in when it comes to serving. That Christ, without the behavior issues, is Nicky. A camper. That no matter how we feel we are called to love and to serve Him faithfully. That He comes first. All of this is true, but what God showed me while spending time with Nicky is that it is quite nearly the opposite. I am the child. The rebellious one. The one who does anything and everything to show Christ everything but gratitude and love. When I am ridiculed I apologize and do it all some more. While Jesus, who has done nothing but love me my entire life. Still chooses to put me first. When Nicky pees on the floor, looks me in the eye and says MAKE ME, and I have to choose to step back and continue to place him before me. To look him right back in the eye and say "I love you." It's so, so hard. It's absolutely tiresome. A constant grind of slowly putting up with action after action. But! How much more has Christ done for me? How much more am I indebted to Him? 

     As soon as Nicky left, a strange feeling came over me. One like I had honestly never experienced before so great. I had been so overly exhausted all week that when Nicky was in someone else's hands I was finally able to think. I realized that I loved it. As horribly miserable as it was there was joy. The sheer joy of serventhood. To be able to come home knowing as I always have that my mission every day is to serve Christ and those around me but now! Now to know how wonderful that is. Serventhood to be no longer a necessary task but instead an utterly satisfying action. 

     Tears are all that remained. Speaking at the microphone to tell everyone there of my horribly incredible week, I cried. Hard. I broke. I can honestly say that no other thing in life has broken me more to the bone than this child did, and as difficult as he was he loved me too. "I love you buddy." was spoken by him consistently throughout each day. Oh, how I cried. I couldn't even try to manage to speak through the tears. Nicky is a beautiful child. Christ used Him to show me a beautiful thing. To absolutely tear my heart in half. I cried later at camp and when I came home I cried even harder than before and when I woke up the next morning I started all over. I loved it. When I meet Nicky with our God, when he can finally understand it all, he may try to thank me but I truly plan on stopping him cold right there and thanking him even more, because he was used to teach me something more beautiful than words can describe. Until that day, I look forward to being Nicky's counselor and friend for a long, long time. How Great, Oh How Great is our God!

     

The Joy of Being Blessed

     I few weeks ago I wrote about being blessed. Specifically about keeping in mind that blessings shouldn't be taken for granted, or used. About how you have not been blessed to simply be blessed, but to be a blessing. Finally, that being blessed does not make you less desperate than anyone else. That Jesus is not only all you need but all you really have. Ringing a bell?

     While all of this is true, I would like to touch on another side of the matter. Joy. The Joy of Being Blessed. 

     Now, before saying to yourself "Ah, yes. I should never forget that being blessed does bring with it a sense of happiness...", I'm afraid I must stop you from further damaging the concept. I am not expressing my love for the things I have nor am I encouraging you to do so either. By all means be thankful for material profit, but seriously there is SO much more to the story. Hang tight. 

     Honestly, this topic is a bit beyond me. Perhaps the reason stands that it's it's late and I should be sleeping, but however the means I can hardly comprehend this. I'll try my best to reiterate. Ready?

     God has given me so much. Parents who love me unconditionally. Siblings who besides the occasional scurmish love and support me as well. Friends, no- brothers and sisters who literally strive everyday just to grow, encourage each other, and learn to depend soley on Christ. So much. I take it for granted often times. I suppose I just don't know how to appreciate things for what they really are, but nonetheless I've come to a conclusion. Just as God has blessed you to be a blessing, He has also blessed you for one reason. To grow you closer to Him. Think about it. Everything God gives you, takes from you, puts you through, convicts you of, it's all for one purpose. To grow your love for Him. To gain a richer relationship with Him. Everything that God puts in your life has a common initiative, and the ultimate ending involves you falling into His arms in a desperate love. Being blessed to be a blessing? It's for the same reason as well! God can and will use anything in your life for a greater good, blessing others included. 

     Side note. It's not easy. Most if the time I've found that it really, really sucks. It's hard. I don't like it, but the ultimate goal is so awesome compared to the hardship required in the mean time. Speaking from experience, the hardest ones tend to grow you the most.

     This week keep in prayer. Pray that God will continue to mold you into the son or daughter that He inteds you to be, no matter what it requires. Continue praying for me as well. Personally I'm going through a tough time of molding, and even though I know it's taken care of, it's simply not the most pleasant experience meanwhile. Think about what you are going through right now, or have gone through in the past. How did it grow you? Change you? 

     Thank you so much to those of you who have consistently kept up with this blog. It means a lot, really. It's a true blessing to have a place if literary refuge, and I'm glad I have people interested in growing along with me.

     

To Win My Soul

4/19/14 - 10:35pm

     I feel so unqualified.

     I am beyond pathetic at following Christ. How many times I've strayed, neglected Him for something else - someone else. Something stupid. As a matter of fact, that's the very reason there was no post last week. I didn't get too busy, or forget, or just decide to put it off because I didn't feel like it. The real reason that nothing was written as of last week was because of my lack of qualification. Or at least the disturbance I'm left with when I feel unqualified. I don't usually prefer to use this word but to be blatantly honest on how I feel, I suck at this. Really suck. And trying to write about God's grace and impact on my life while neglecting grace and not allowing for any impact is so hypocritic I can't even stand myself. I mean just trying to encourage others, all while deliberately turning away from what I'm attempting to turn others towards through writing - it's sick. When I'm not right with Jesus, my words mean nothing. 

4/20/14 - 7:02am

     It's Easter morning. Just letting that sink in. The anniversary of - everything important. My everything. My hope. Just think. To be desperately hopeless. Miserably corrupted. Suddenly free. Everything wrong in life was perfected and made new in one morning. By the resurrection of Christ it was instantly different. Death our punishment, conquered. The previous inevitable, turned to hope. I can't even comprehend.

     How I continue to neglect His ever present grace I don't know but trust me when I say that in this moment I don't care. I don't care that I'm not enough or that I continue to fail over and over again or that nothing I do can ever suffice because in this moment, I am reminded of how free I am. Yes, there are times when I feel closer to God than others, and I should always strive to be serving God with everything in me, praising Him. But even in the moments of complete failure, desperation, stupidity, how much can I really do? How much can I do to overtake what Jesus has done on this morning? 

Nothing.

This post is a bit on the short side. It's not me being lazy, it's just Jesus leaving me speechless. This morning, today, this week - thank your Jesus. Remember what He has won. What He endured in order to win. Dwell in His presence and simply relish in how much He completely adores you. As the mighty lyrics proclaim:

Praise the One who climbed the hill,

And stormed the very gates of hell,

Went to war with death itself,

To win my soul.

Happy Easter.

     

     

Love and Abandon

     I'm not entirely sure how to begin writing on this topic. It's not awkward, necessarily. It's not something that I am unfamiliar with, either. I'm very familiar, actually. I just don't know how else to start than by stating the typical, stupid little line:

     There's this girl.

     You've heard it before from other hormonally challenged, emotionally driven teenagers. Yes, I think about her all the time and she is absolutely beautiful with her big eyes and adorable smile that makes her dimples shine and her nose scrunch up and everything and how she laughs and even talks. Trust me, I'm not writing this as a way of venting to the internet my girl problems, although if that's the route you thought this was taking I certainly don't blame you. It's common.

     Recently I've been struggling (and by recently I mean more like two years or so). As stated, I think she's absolutely beautiful. I'm drawn to her, obviously. She stands out, she's different, and I feel pretty pathetic writing this (que the struggle). 

     I feel so out of place feeling like this. Like, there are so many people in my life that I thoroughly love. All of which I rightly should, too. At this point in my life I know that my love should aspire toward Christ, family, friends, enemies, and everyone in between. I feel as though it's not time to love someone, a certain girl in particular, in this way. It's confusing, and I think that the majority of teenagers react to this kind of confusion via relationships, AKA: "The Dumbest Thing One Can Accomplish in High School". 

     Fine, that may have been a bit strong. There are high school "couples" that have it figured out, and that's great. I know some. I love them and look up to how they strive to serve Jesus together. However, truth be told, I know literally three couples like this. I take that back after realizing that two of these couples are now in college. One. I know one couple out of everybody. If I'm being judgmental Lord help me but no one else, at least from what I can see from my point if view is dating in high school with the right intentions. Even if their intentions aren't even morally bad, they are not focused on Christ. 

     Excuse my rant, because that entire thing doesn't have much to do with my point....

     My point, I suppose, is that (personally) the last thing I want to do is pursue her - now. I love her. Not out of feeling or emotion, because if everything was based off of those two horrible things then this entire post is not worth your time reading or mine writing. I love her with purpose and affection, and I will show this love to her by abandoning myself, and waiting until God's perfect timing has arrived. I want her to grow in Christ. To become a tremendous woman of God. Someone who is absolutely on fire for Jesus, and I can already see all of this in her. I want her to be moved by Christ, loved by Christ, empowered every day by Christ. This is also why I pray for her. Everyday I pray for her. Because between me and Him, He is so much better in every way. I pray for myself. That Christ will continue to move and mold me as well, so that I can be the husband that I am intended to be by God. I pray that if this woman is not set aside for me, that I will still continue to grow in Him! I still pray for her, for her own life and future husband. For my future wife, whoever she is, that she will grow in Him more and more each and everyday. To live for His glory is so much sweeter than chasing stupid desires. 

     This week, pray for me! I need it so much. I need Him. As much as I think I need more than that, I don't. Christ and Christ alone is where I need to be, where I want to be. I will continue to live in Him, everyday.

     

     

     

     

     

To Be Blessed...

     My life is so busy. Granted, it's not nearly as chaotic as some people's lives, but still enough to keep me from consistently maintaining this blog. Although it seems fairly unimportant, I believe that this blog should be kept up with more frequently. Writing is a way for me to connect, seeing as how speaking has not proven to be my "forte". I understand writing. Better than I understand my hormonal teenage emotions. So between the two I prefer expressing my real thoughts through written words, so as not to become so distorted by confused feelings and what not.

     My recent life has happened extremely fast. This past January a few friends of mine decided to throw a surprise party for my sixteenth birthday. I was surprised, yes, but at the end of the day I was left with a main focus on how extremely blessed I am to have such a core group of like-minded, Christ-loving brothers and sisters at such a young age. Some time later after turning sixteen, I was given a job. Not long after I acquired my own car. Visiting a college campus sparked me into realizing that a degree is not too far down the road either. All these things, not to mention living in a good house with a strong family, a church family that truly loves and cares about growing ever more confident in Christ instead of simply "walking the walk", a consistent amount of food in the pantry, a secure amount of money, proper hospitals down the road in case of emergencies, and so much more. I along with a majority of people around me have been blessed beyond measure when it comes to earthly needs, and even not-so-necessaries, and still we continue to take every aspect for granted.

     Sad, yes, that this is the case but believe it or not the act of taking things for granted is only part of the problem. Looking at children living in Africa it is easy to see a huge marginal difference in how they live life as opposed to how Americans, or any other first-world country does. One of the first things that one notices is the fact that they have so little. As a society, we tend to see this and immediately believe that we are in a better situation. Would it be strange if I told you otherwise? 

     "For who makes you different than anyone else? What do you have that you did not receive? And if you did receive it, why do you boast as though you did not? - 1 Corinthians 4:7, NIV

If you are blessed with "stuff"(essentially), why do you believe that you are in a better position than those who have little? Because when it comes down to it, Christ died for you just as much as for those who do not have much. Why? Because both people in different situations were just as lost and broken and distracted and ignorant as the next guy. We are all on an equal level of failure, and we are all on an equal level of grace. For what will become of those possessions anyway? Gone. Worthless. Yet, we still try to convince ourselves (and do a pretty darn good job at it most of the time) that we have more.

     I suppose what I'm trying to get at is that I have Jesus and Jesus alone. I don't have "Jesus and this other stuff". He is my everything, whether I want Him to be or not. Because there will be a day when everything I "own" will perish, and it will become all too clear that He was all I had all along.

     Problem being, I still have stuff. Is having a house, a car, a job, church, family, hospitals etc. a blessing. Yes! The question is how will we use them? The least if these have been given little physical needs for a complete purpose. Likewise, typical first-world Americans have been given much - for a purpose. How will we use our blessing? Will we leave it at "oh we're just blessed..." and move on with our iPhones and starbucks and youth group like nothing changes? How could we be so ignorant? How could I be so ignorant? 

     Point being, you have not been blessed, to be blessed. You have been blessed in order that you may be a blessing. This week, challenge yourself to step out of your normal routine and be a blessing to someone else. Make Jesus known. Also, to pray for those in hard situations. Because yes, physical necessities are not everything, but they do make life harder. Pray for strength, confidence, and hope. Pray that they, along with yourself, will continually keep your eyes focused on Jesus.

     "Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning it's shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." 

- Hebrews 12:2, NIV

   

     

Be Still and Trust

As soon as one completes their very first day of camp at Worldview Academy, it becomes clear that the lectures taking place are in order to maximize your preparation for one thing.

Evangelism Practicum.

During this excursion to a new environment- may it be a college campus full of rushed college students, downtown, Wal-mart, etc., students interact with the inhabitants of the United States. Not necessarily in an effort to convert, but in an attempt to discuss. As students converse with these often "outsiders" of their own faith, numerous circumstances offer the chance to perform the act of one thing. In many different versions, of course. Questions. This has been the focus of over half the lectures given so far at camp. How to ask these specific questions in order to cause the "questionee" to do in turn one thing as well. Answer? Not quite. Think.
I do hope that any high school students reading this will one day be given the chance to attend Worldview Academy, so in honor if these students, and to Mr. Bill Jack's relief, this post is not focused on how to evangelize. Perhaps that day will come, but as the great King Aragorn once proclaimed, "today is not that day." This post is instead focused on the personal experience found on MY last evangelism practicum at Downtown, Indianapolis.
When Moses is given commands by God in Exodus to go the Pharaoh and demand to free the people of Israel, Moses replies something like this, "I don't know what to say." (Something along those lines...) If you have read Genesis- really read Genesis- this seems as though to be the stupidest response possible. God, the Creator of the universe, has entrusted Moses with a command, and Moses is concerned about how he is going to talk. For those of you that have never performed such a revolution, freeing a nation from slavery is no small feat. God, however, is no small God. As we read in hein sight, it seems a bit ridicules to do anything but trust God. Moses, on the other hand, did not witness the creation of the world, nor had read of it, or had even heard the true story. Moses in fact, up until this point, had never believed in the God of the Israelites. In essence, it was his first day on the job, so we'll cut him some slack this once.
As for us, in this day and age, and our knowledge of who God is, what excuse do we hide in our back pocket? No, none of us witnessed the actual creation of the universe, but I for one can only imagine how incredible it would have been to see it. Many of us have even read the account of creation written down on paper by Moses himself! (Or rock or papyrus, turtle shell etc.) All throughout the Bible we can read of the great and powerful God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Why do we doubt? Why do we so often focus on how we will ever get this accomplished on our own?
I struggled with this crazy phenomenon on the van headed downtown last month. How on earth do I keep up with these conversations? I don't know the answers - I need more time - I'm not prepared! As our group of three abandoned the van and prayed a final prayer on the sidewalk, God was gracious enough to send me my answer in that moment. God told me in that moment the same thing he told Moses in his moment, "Who then has made your mouth?"
It was then that I felt both ashamed and astonished and confident and humbled and yes, I even felt prepared. As we took our time talking with an older man about his semi-agnostic worldview, I discovered something. It's amazing how many random facts you know about platypuses, the process of making pillow cases, and the origins of chocolate cake while having a discussion with a stranger. While they are talking it seems as though you know all there is to know about everything except what you need to. So naturally, between every question I took the time to simultaneously listen to this fellow's answers and pray patiently. As soon as our friend finished speaking and another unknown question beckoned, I would ask the beckoned question and there he was yet again answering, wearing one of those old-man hats, talking in the second kind of old man voice, slow and choppy. Half the time I had no idea what I had just said. After thinking a bit it would come to me the question I just asked. I had responded with the perfect question to keep the conversation rolling as well as mind-probing. By no means do I say that with pride. I say it with all humility because the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob was more than obviously speaking through me. This happened continually throughout every conversation we held that day. I am beyond thankful to my God.
Who then made my mouth? In case you haven't caught on yet, the same God who made the heavens and the earth an all that inhabit it. My message is clear and simple today. Trust God my friends, because without Him you will not have the answers. Not for others, and most definitely not for yourself. He will always provide.

A Week of Camp

Seeing as how I have referenced this before, but never fully detailed to my readers the complete intenseness of my reference, one would suppose that the time has just about arrived to satisfy the whole of this title. Then again, because of my lack of description, I would guess that none of my readers would have a compelling desire to obtain the full knowledge of this reference after all. That being said, it is my privilege and honor to devote this post to an organization that has more than dramatically impacted my life.
This organization has done more than teach, it has empowered. Instead of the everyday student, the camps provided by this organization have created rare forms of Disciples. Christ's Disciples. Even more scarce- young Christian Disciples.
Before you turn the computer off entirely, frustrated that yet another innocent being has decided among himself to take the time, neigh, the audacity- to compile yet another praise for yet another "summer camp" he has recently attended (it isthat facebook-thwarting time of year again), something must first be made clear.
This camp has not impacted me through an ever so common emotional confrontation. A side-project that the utter majority of summer camps provide without cost. I might have another post entirely on this subject of interest (or perhaps of non-interest). It must be stated that I have attended this camp three years in a row now, and still every year grow more confidant in its mindset. Although I do not brag about being a sort of "veteran of attendance", I most certainly take pride in it. I take pride in being annually involved with this association because it has encouraged me in something I am to always take pride in: my distinct relationship with Jesus Christ. This is the reason I commit this post entry to Worldview Academy. Because of the challenge invested in me every year by a select group of people who want to know God's heart, and serve Him by serving me through love. Not because I had an "awesome week at camp" and not because of a self-invested-camp-long emotional experience. However, because of everything I have gained from participation in this camp, I most definitely have developed an emotional devotion to those acquainted with it.
During Worldview Academy, students will endure approximately twenty-six hours in total classroom lecture.

Don't you just want to sign up this very instant?

Do not fear. These lectures are not similar to the implication of the common word "lecture" you are probably associated with. These lectures often feel, look, smell and taste like the "lecture" that initially comes to mind, but by no means do they sound the same (yes, be relieved.) Instead, the topics discussed in these lectures are concentrated on bringing in and teaching out a more vast understanding of other worldviews, strategies in apologetics applied while defending your faith, and identifying the characteristics of a God-fearing leader. Why? Only so that the graduates of WVA re-enter everyday life knowing how to question other religions and worldviews, defend their own, and are challenged to lead others at their own home.
Aside from this, students face an opportunity to practice the techniques they have gained on - wait for it - real, live, talking people that inhabit the real, live, walking world. Campers also build relationships in a personal small group, and usually walk out the Worldview doors with professionally-equalized capabilities when it comes to throwing a frisbee.
Descriptive enough? Please know I can easily write a book about my experience at this camp. This week, I will be writing specifically about my personal revelations gained at my most recent attendance last month, but in order for you to fully grasp the meaning of this week's posts, some background was unavoidable. Thank you for the vast amount of viewers, a little over 500 recently. Perhaps I wasn't sure exactly what I was getting into by starting this blog. Please, pray for me.

All These Things

     It so happens that I have not the slightest clue concerning what to write about. Therefore, what you are about to read was constructed entirely on the spot and without meaningful aim. Hopefully, this does not cause you to close the page, but instead realize my amazing ability of constructing a post without first having anything to write about. You see, the trick is to use words with purpose, even when there is no purpose to be found among the words. As long as this sounds interesting, you should still be reading.
     Then again, it could be said that the purpose of these words is to communicate to you the fact that purpose is not necessary in order to obtain success. In this case, I am purposefully writing purposeful words without purpose all while non-purposefully communicating those words in a purposeful way after all.

     Oh how I love writing.

     This morning, you probably got out of bed however you usually do every other morning. That is, not until after having a long inward conversation with yourself. Possibly without even realizing your thoughts were functioning at all. In short, you wished to sleep. Unfortunately there is more to life then sleep, such as eating, moving, productivity and what not. So, against your initial will the bed was eventually deserted. (P. s.- those of you who have no trouble leaving bed in the morning are barely human and probably have cats to feed anyway so there is no need for further reading.)
     I am not aware of what the politically correct response to this question happens to be, mostly because the question is not typically of general interest among everyday conversations, but if someone were to ask me how on earth I get out of bed every morning, I would respond like so:

     Jesus. Jesus is how I do everything.

     Everyone knows the verse. Some have it memorized. In fact, when people ask for my favorite verse in the Bible this verse is the second-half of my answer.

     "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." -Philippians 4:13

     I love this verse. I hate how people use this verse. This verse is plastered on sports locker rooms. Quoted by celebrities. This verse is used out of context by pastors around the globe. This is the conclusion - the end product of what Paul is communicating. Allow me the honor of posting my all-time favorite verse for you:

     "Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." -Philippians 4:11-13

     Many use this verse when they are in need. In sports, financial crisis - whenever they are in need of success. It's words are changed, unknowingly, to "I can do this thing through Christ who strengthens me." Paul specifically makes it clear amidst the first few words that this is not his reasoning. Instead, we can do ALL things through Christ. We can win in Christ, loose in Christ, face plenty in Christ, face hunger in Christ, face abundance, need, money, poverty, success, failure, and anything else! After the battle, when we have nothing to show, no chance of success, not a friend in the world- when we have LOST. We have lost in Christ!
     There is so much more to this verse alone, but I beg you to search for yourself. I'm no expert. I just love Jesus. So this week, I propose two challenges. First, to look past what is assumed by majority and find the truth being revealed in the Bible. Also, to know that you can do all things through Christ who strengthens you. When you are strengthened by Christ, you will find joy in Him. When you find joy in Christ, you can't help but be used by Him.
   

Evil Super Villain Emails

Obviously I'm not a pro at this whole "staying updated" thing. I need more time! I promise you guys I'm gonna get this together. A post a week is my goal, and I suppose I should take into account as well that I already have over 300 views on this thing. That's a fair amount of people who have read this and probably wished my last post wasn't three months ago. I apologize to anyone who has been unnecessarily faithful. I'll name you Joe.
So Joe, expect a post every Sunday morning! The Sunday Usual. Email me Joe! I heart questions and/or suggestions. You see with questions I can, well....here:

"Dave was a malicious super villain. As usually goes, Dave, being an evil super villain, spent his days doing nothing less than concocting different impractical means of destroying the earth. Dave, along with every other super villain to enter the comics, never realized the uselessness of this goal. I mean seriously, what is he left with and anyway, Dave was missing something that 98 percent of other super villains had already obtained: a cool nickname. Besides the absence of this necessity, Dave was also faced with yet another dilemma. Although he spent his days meditating on diabolical plans of destruction, none of these plans ever succeeded. Everyone knew this however, because....the world was still in existence. However the main reason for Dave's failure occurred as a result of him not actually having any plans. All of his meditation and thoughtfulness had been in vain, for the fruit of his thought had ceased to sprout. Dave died a complete failure."

Well, let's be thankful Dave never succeeded, but really, all he would have needed in order to destroy the world was a good idea that worked. Even if his ideas never profited it could still be said that he tried. Seeing as how Dave apparently did not have the inward capability to produce ideas, we can submit two conclusions:
a. He should have pursued a different career.
b. Now that he's stuck in this career, he needs to hire a minion.
Minion, secretary, assistant. Somebody to GIVE him ideas. After all, Dave had full potential to follow through with an idea (hopefully), so as long as he got an idea from somebody he's good to go.
Turns out Dave and I are in the same situation. With two differences:
a. I am not seeking the earth's destruction.
b. I do have the capability to produce original ideas.

So it's not totally one in the same here.

Long made up evil villain story short, I love emails! So Joe, if you feel the need to contact me about anything, don't think I won't answer! I will answer and I will probably follow through. I'll at least consider. Unless its just dumb. Then again I like reading the dumb ones too, so just send away!

I Haven't Posted Since Last Year...

     This seems to happen quite a bit.

     I start a blog. I love the blog. I obsess over this new blog. I post on my blog. I forget about my blog. I come back a year later writing a post about how I haven't posted in a year. That's just how the fish swims.

     Is that a saying?

     Anyway, here I am yet again, and instead of giving you a non-detailed regurgitation of 2012, I'm kicking it old school and just - writing like normal.

     I'm almost fifteen years old. Weird. It's kind of sad, I like being fourteen. It hit me the other night that in FIVE YEARS I'm going to TWENTY YEARS OLD. That's ridicules. Twenty was forever away, and suddenly all that separates me from the two decade mark is five years. Five long years, but still. Fifteen also means driving permit. To be honest, I'm a little nervous about this whole thing. Driving was always something that parents did, and I'm no parent (proudly...) so how can I possibly be sitting behind the wheel right now? Well, sitting behind the wheel - actually driving. I assure you I have spent countless times behind the wheel as a professional race car driver. Or as professional of a race car driver you can be in a 2001 Excursion.
     Speaking of excursions, Worldview Academy came once again this fall for round two. A great experience as always. And speaking of excursions in a much less literal form I have dug deeply into my first year of high school.
     Another football season. A third football season to be exact, and it seems as though both the Warriors and the Aggies are at quite a peak. My Warriors won their first ever State Championship, while my Aggies defeated the number one team in the college football nation to finish the season ranked #5 overall. Not bad.
     I spent the first seconds of 2013 spilling a nasty-smelling-carbonated-apple-somethingorother all over myself, so we shall see how I fare this upcoming year. Nothing horrible yet, but 2013 is still young.
     I cannot express to you how amazing my God is. What He has shown me since my last post on Mother's Day have been astounding. In reading His Word I must stop and simply breathe. Thank You Jesus for a great year!
     Now, speaking of great years, I also attended a mile marker I thought was also long away, of which I now find that it happend nearly five months ago. Yes, I went to homecoming. I didn't take anyone, but a night with some life-long friends was well worth the missed sleep.
     Absolutely none of this is in order, but I now share my Christmas! Actually, it was pretty much like every other Christmas I've experienced, so, as always it was well spent.
     
     Hmm...

     That sounded very much like a regurgitation...

     Oh well, I hope to back much sooner than 2014, but until my return I wish anyone reading this a very happy/merry Father's Day, Forth of July, Flag Day, Labor Day, Reformation, Thanksgiving, Christmas, birthday, renaissance festival, hot dog eating contest or whatever else you may have done since May 13 of 2012!

God Bless.
   

Dear Mom,

Mom,

     I know you love me. I know you care for me. Though you have no idea how much I love and care for you back. Probably because I don't show you as often as I should. I don't show you nearly as often as I should. Just know that even when I'm angry, I wouldn't trade you for the world. You've always been there for me, even when I'm not there for you, and that is something I appreciate everyday.
     I admit, you spoil me. You have no idea how amazing it is to come home from a two hour football practice to a plate of home-made deliciousness instead of delivery pizza, take out chinese, or McDonalds's. Not to mention you're the one who takes me to football four times a week. You give up  time you could be using keeping up with the house, time to yourself, and just plain Mom stuff all so that us kids can participate in sports, tournaments, plays, and more. And through all this, you still have time to spend with us alone. Some of my best memories are just me and you sitting in bed talking about everything from school, to football, to girls, to Jesus for hours on end.
     Sometimes it may feels as if I don't love you. That I don't tell you I love you. Maybe that's just because I'm not good with words, but know at all times that to me you are the most important woman on planet earth. No other girl comes close. Your decisions are always for our better good. You teach four kids every day when you could drop us off at school to get us out of the house. Thank you.
     My favorite aspect of you is your heart. Nothing is ever just someone else's problem, it's your problem. Instead of thinking that orphans on the other side of the world need help, your mindset is that orphans across the globe, even just 30 miles away, need families. You took in a scrawny nine-day old baby from Ethiopia, who had only days before been abandoned by his own penniless mother in a field to die. You took him, cared for him, you called him you own son. You painted a picture of Christ in doing so. You opened my eyes to realize what true unconditional love is. The best part: you didn't stop there. You took in a old Mexican guy that you didn't know, who had been on drugs most of his life, and let him stay in your own house for 3 months. Now that man has hope. Our family impacted his heart. He's back with his wife, back with his kids, and is at this hour getting his life back on track. Currently you are in the process of training to be a foster parent. Taking in babies and toddlers that have been through more pain and suffering than most American adults, knowing that there is always a potential for having to adopt them, calling them your child just as you did that Ethiopian babe.
     You have always been ever-faithful to your family, to your husband, to your children, to everyone. Never backing down and always offering hope to those who surround you. So this Mother's Day, please know, that Mother's Day is not when people appreciate you, it is not when people love you, it is not when people care for you. Every day I appreciate, love, care for, and thank you. I thank God that he placed you in a special part of my life, and every day I love you more and more. Thank you for always being there for me. I love you.
                                                                                                   Crayton