Don’t teach me about moderation and liberty. I prefer a shot of grape juice.

If I had to make one recommendation to alter your life at this very moment, I would tell you to go listen to "New Law" by Derek Webb. Make it happen, kids.

As for Simi Valley and the many works of a poor, college student who is out to learn what love means I once again heard a professor say something that made me want to tuck my tail and hide at the back of the class, because I knew that what he was saying was directed at something I had been guilty of so many times in the past. Not only was I guilty of it, but the movement that I am convinced is going to bring peace to the hurting is guilty of it as well.

"You're an idiot if you just throw a bible verse at someone dealing with the carnage of life. It isn't a take two of these verses and call me in the morning type of thing."-Spencer MacCuish

The topic was relationship counseling, what it is and what it is not. More specifically, discipleship counseling. He goes on to explain how this isn't a hybrid of Biblical truth and psychology, nor is it something reserved for trained professionals. It is what love looks like in action. It is what it means to truly be patient. It was what the church, the body, is called to do.

I am reading Sires "The Universe Next Door" right now and this guy knows how to kick my butt in the best way possible.

"A person who writes about worldviews and is not biased, is also not a credible source"-

James Sire

Sire talks a lot about how God was the source of all truth. The problem with naturalism is that it keeps us from finding the truth in anything while attempting to do the complete opposite. Sire knew that as long as we seek wisdom then we would be able to find the pure truth in things outside of our culture.

On that note, as I sit here with no phone, no bike, and no Atlanta I realize something. It is time to let the dead bury the dead. I am going to run like a little girl every time I am pushed to live these words, but they are so painfully true. We only need what we are given.

Naked at Bible college

I have a confession. I hope you won't hold it against me. It's nothing huge, but it is a confession. Are you ready? Here it goes. I told a lie. If I were going to justify it, which I am, I would say that it wasn't really a lie pursea. It was more the truth but leaving out some details. But heres where it gets fun. I got called out on it.

The story goes like this. I'm an open book, but out here I have tried to be a little less that way and a little more open to listen. The other night a new friend of mine asked about a part of my life. After I got finished with a ten minute story she staired at me for a minute and then said," You're only telling me half of the story." as she walked out of the room.

The story continues. Last night in a philosophy class my professor puts me up against an older wiser student with an opposing oppinion to write our oppinions out as diagrams right next to eachother and then explain. He went first and absolutely blew me out of the water. Nothing in me wanted to explain mine. I wanted to tuck my tail between my legs and keep walking. For the sake of staying on my professors good side, and because of my competitiveness, I explained mine and then sat down. I later found out that the professor leaned towards my side of the argument when the two of us went to get coffee, which has nothing to do with the story but making me feel a little bit better.

So how do these two stories possibly connect to one? They connect somewhere in the middle of one final story. A time in life existed when everything was good. Pain did not exist. Humans got side tracked though, we fell, and years later we are still feeling naked and ashamed. Ashamed of rejection, pain, imperfections, etc. And when these things are exposed they make us feel naked and ashamed and we may not want to die but we no longer want to live in that situation. We look for a way out and that way out leads to more nudity.

It is in these moments that I realize I am not chasing after God because I want to be some spiritual power house. I'm chasing because I am desperate and needy. I don't feel alone on this.

I was asked to start this blog to track what I was learning, correct? This is one of those things. Anyone who writes about a paradim, a habitual way ot thinking, or a worldview and makes it %100 unbiased is not credible.

Cowboy Christianity. A Bible and a gun.

I never realized I was southern until I left the south. It is true though. I miss sweat tea, and the instant availability of it. I miss Truett Cathy and his holy baptist chicken sandwiches. I even miss the one fingered solute we so freely give each other on the highway. I cannot lie. A part of me misses home. A part of me hurts that I am not with my family, nor am I with my friends. Although this part of me exists, my soul knows that this is where I am supposed to be.

Two years I walked into Algebra 1101 and sat down in my chair nervously, looking like the awkward freshman I was. Today I did the exact same thing. This time was different though. This time I was walking into this classroom because I desperately desire what the instructor has to offer us. I want to learn what he has to say. I need to learn what he has to say.

I am not going to lie. It was overwhelming to hear my second instructor tell me that if I missed one assignment then I would fail the entire class. The same instructor later gave the entire class the previously mentioned salute in order to prove a point and that killed some of the tension. I am like any other human. I have quit many commitments that I have made, but I am unwilling to do that on this one. I have been given an amazing opportunity and I want to live it to the full. They weren't kidding when the said this was pre ivy league.


Southern is a man made thing. A culture that we have created and learned. Like other cultures, we can unlearn it. It only exists if we let it. I feel like I have had a hologram in front of me that I have been fighting to catch, and when I pass through it I turn around and start the chase again. I would like to say that when I found out it was just a hologram I stopped, but like a little kid in a 3D movie, I kept reaching out for it. In this way, I was also finding my identity in man made things. Something that I learned but can unlearn. Something that only exists if I let it. Today I felt God turn off what was projecting the hologram and allow me to chase what truly matters. Him. And like a dad playing tag with his son, he makes it pretty easy to catch him.

To live is Christ and to die is gain. A simple concept, but not an easy concept.

47 Party? Is that a band?

Monday morning if I were to walk into an art history class and site wikipedia as one of my sources on a paper about "Hamlet" I would not only lose all of my credibility as a student, but would also join the millions of people who mindlessly allow the rest of the world to do the research for them without checking the original sources.
Monday morning if I were to walk into an art history class and claim that I had found a way to travel back in time, had interviewed William Shakespeare about "Hamlet", and brought back the original skull my professor would probably think I was clinically insane. On the off-chance that he actually believed me I am sure he would wonder what I was doing in Humanities 1101 with the technology needed for traveling time and the most profound Shakespearean research of the 21st century.
I am not ignorant enough to believe that my appearance is all a person sees when they look at me. If we were to pay close enough attention to anyone then we could spot emotions, opinions, and thoughts just from what there faces carry. I don't want to be the "wikipedia first year", mindlessly allowing anyone and everyone to fill me up with information as I fruitlessly take it. I also don't want to be the "Back-to-the-future first year", going so far out of my way to prove to the rest of the community that I behold the knowledge of all things that I am willing to lie or run after the impossible. I don't want to miss what I was meant to receive because of me not allowing myself to be properly guided.
While sitting on the beach in Malibu discussing future adventures with two of my new friends, I realised something. I'm comfortable. I've been comfortable since I walked into this new life. Not in the sense that it has been easy, but in the sense that it has been so obvious that I am going through what I was meant to go through that anxiety does not exist.

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive and go do it, because what the world needs is men that have come alive"-Gil Bailie

I don't know what to call what I am experiencing out here, but whatever it is I can say this. It is making me come alive.

Akward, bike riding, freshman Jesus

After spending one day in Simi Valley California, surrounded by the new and beautiful house, sunny weather, and great/challenging roommates one thing is clear. God is putting in the work to make sure that I stay here.

Anyone who knows anything about me knows that I love fighting sports(boxing, kick-boxing, Jiu Jitsu, MMA, etc.). Although the reality side of it can get a little ridiculous one of my favorite shows on TV is "The Ultimate Fighter". Not just because of the fights, but also because of the situation in and of itself. Twenty guys who all think that they are among the top Mixed Martial Artists in the world, living under one roof trying to show the world why they are better then the other nineteen. One of the fears I had for EBC was that it would be the same situation. A handful of young, hip, unshaven, evangelicals who all think they are the next christian super-star all living in one town. I don't want that. That isn't me.

I learned something last night while sitting in a room with my new roommates, and a few of the students who have been around EBC for a while. This mentality that I mentioned above did not exist among them. I also realized that if I was going to get everything I could out of this experience then not only would I need to look to my teachers for guidance, but also to the older students. The students who have been doing this longer.

As I was cleaning dishes alongside my new roommate and brother Mark last night he told me "This is what they were talking about in Philippians. Watching out for each other."


This is what they were talking about Philippians. Watching out for each other.

Turn right onto Pacific Ave. in 2221.07 miles

According to Map Quest Simi Valley, California is 2221.o7 miles from the house that I am sitting in typing this. Driving there would take 33 hours and 2o minutes. Assuming my Honda Accord would make it, it would cost me $215.11 in gas to make it to Simi Valley. I say all of this to show you where my mind has been for the last two weeks. Somewhere between Simi Valley, California and Atlanta, Georgia...but not in one of them.

It takes 28 turns to make it to Simi Valley, California. The last turn is onto Pacific Ave. from 1st street. In my mind that is where I am. One week from leaving Atlanta and moving to Simi for the next four years, and trying to remain on 1st street and off of Pacific Ave for as long as possible.

"Run with perseverance, the race that was set out for you.
I woke up and needed to tell you this. I couldn't shake it
out of my head. You needed to know this."

Tonight my little sister stumbled into my room, possibly sleep walking. She said the above words to me in her barely audible, sleepy voice. She couldn't have been more right. I needed to know this. A race has been set out for me. I am running it, and figuratively I have made 27 of my turns. A lot has gone on, in and out of my hands, to put me in Simi Valley, California. It is time for me to make that last turn.

Fears of Simi Valley

-I don't have what it takes
-It isn't what I'm looking for
-I am not done in Atlanta
-I will be all alone

Logical or not these are my fears, not necessarily in this order. With or without these fears I will be leaving for Simi in nine days. Pacific Ave. get ready!