Monday, December 26, 2011

Satanist Within.

I would like to hurt you and hurt you bad but I am too man for that. I would like to be mean, really mean but I am too man for that either…I suppose.

I would like to do so many nasty things to you but my momma taught me better or was it an aunt…well it’s something I learnt.

I would like to spread rumours about and see the horror on your face when someone tells you but nah…I am way too good for that.

There is so much I would like to do to you gal but there is much more on the inside that stops me. Besides it goes against my grain to invest that much in something that has caused me so much pain.

Yes, I admit it, you have caused me pain. But I guess that means I am alive, or so I am told.

A friend told me today that true Satanism is not worshipping the devil or listening to hard core rock music, its simply giving in and fulfilling the desires of the flesh and I don’t want to be no Satanist so I shan’t do all the things I think of doing.

Instead I shall go to the one place I can truly be naked and unashamed and that is to God. Being so old, ancient of days and all, sometimes I wonder if he hears me but I  know He makes me feel better and less afraid and angry and bitter and hopeless than most.

I guess he is truly a friend that sticks closer than a brother. To His bosom I entrust my tears and fears. He shall rescue me.

Other Random Thoughts

Redefine friendships.

i am afraid of the dark side of my soul.

haaa! women. who said we cant live without them.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Home Alone on Christmas.

This is much harder than i expected but not totally unwelcome. Spending Christmas alone and indoors. Well technically i wont be doing either of that but i wont be spending it with family either and after calling my mom to wish her a Merry Christmas, well it sorta made me miss the whole big family fuss this day used to be.

But, i guess i shall be spending it with friends and hey there is never a good excuse to pass up some nice food especially if you are a bachelor like me.

Just one more random point, i do not know about most people but Christmas is just not as big a deal for me, this year at least, as new years is. I find myself a little obsessed with the coming of the new year and all my Christmas messages have more effort and good wished fixed into the new year portion of the greeting. i dont know, maybe it because this year was particularism tough and emotional or maybe it is the great excitement and joy or sense of expectation i feel when i think of 2012.

Well at least according to the movie that is when the world goes belly up but i know that it signals for me a new beginning. A chance to reorient oneself, re-plug into God and start afresh. Like new plant shoots after the devastation of a fire.

I look forward to this year and the things it brings. So even as you celebrate Christmas don't forget that soon after that comes a totally new year. The old has gone and the new has come and behold God does a new thing, do you see it, do you perceive it. It is the Lords doing and its marvellous in our sight.

Hosanna Hosanna in the Highest.

Merry Christmas and here is to a true totally NEW year.

The Assassination of Prophet.

Today I found myself pondering with a friend what my life would have been if I was not saved and I realised that God had stood in the way three times too many.

We or rather I looked deep into my life and realised that I had great potential for evil. I am fully aware of what my sick twisted mind can come up with and how I would be a libertine and seducer with no regrets or apologies. A smooth talker and a silver tongued devil. A Casanova with a little black book and a filled phonebook. A lyrical genius with the ability to bed, not all, but a good number of the women that set themselves within my line of sight.

I would be a puppet master, pulling the strings, more adept that the Three Fates with a scissor to sever those strings when the puppet begun to think it was more than just that, a limp item, I tool in my hand, a quencher of my desire.

I would be quicker than the quick brown fox and I would jump over the fence, overwhelming and circumventing all their defences. In one breathe they would scream my name and in another curse me to hell but all in all I shall leave them in the throes of desire, reaching for a glass of water in the dead of the night.

But then I stopped. I realised. It was the admiration of an evil man that saw the death of the prophet. It was the sweet lies of the devil that got the prophet shot. And so I realised that this was the backdrop to a nightmare scene, the spilling of blood on a level never before seen. It was the prelude to the conclude, the rise to the crescendo. It was the crushing of a man from the inside out.

For as you gaze into the air, wondering, pondering and dreaming what you would do if you had the chance, don’t forget that the crosshairs are trained on you and before you know it you are tomorrows headline, the body of the story with the headline reading death in the street.

For while you paid no attention, a seed was son, a bullet was loaded the rifle bolt pushed in place and in the background the choir sang a dirge for this was the beginning of the assassination of a prophet.

Proverbs 24:1

New International Version (NIV)

Do not envy the wicked, do not desire their company;for their hearts plot violence,  and their lips talk about making trouble.

Proverbs 23:17(NIV)
Do not let your heart envy sinners,
 but always be zealous for the fear of the LORD.

Friday, December 23, 2011

A Bullet...

A bullet is beautiful when removed from its context, smooth and shiny and cool to the touch. It is simple yet elegant—its edges running upward to a point or a glinting, symmetrical hill. A child who didn't know better might mistake it for a pocket-size spaceship, or a tiny tower when set on end. 

They would not recognize it as a thief.

Yet thieves are exactly what bullets are. In the context of war, they rob countries of their men, men of their ideals, ideals of their virtue. They take breath and blood and thought, and let them lay in the mud of battle, scattered like shrapnel. They take sight and sound, life and limb, hope and courage.

And even if you safeguard all of that, there's still one thing the wartime bullet will always take: innocence.

An apology to a friend

A friend asked me today if I was okay. She took me aside and with concern in her eyes asked what the “depression” had been about and what caused it.

I could not answer, well not in a way that could make sense, but here earnestness and concern won the day and I, taking a couple of chairs and choosing a spot, sat down with her and attempted an explanation.

And after my feeble attempts were complete she hugged me and as we held each other she prayed and asked God that He would give me joy and peace. I don’t doubt He answers prayer but that day, a friend won the day.

I am just sorry I could not pour my heart out as much as I know I needed to. The emotion glands are cauterised and the flow has stopped. My emotions are spent and my energy sapped, I am sorry my friend but I cannot do that which is expected of me, even to the basic level.

But I promise you this, that when this time is past I shall be back on my feet and I shall be my normal laughing and cheerful self again and when that time is come we shall run frolicking and bounding in the meadows (hahahaha) so to speak.

I love you misha, you realness and genuineness always amazes and blesses me and is as refreshing as a pure mountain spring.

Apparently there is still hope for this friendship thing.

Proverbs 18:24
One who has unreliable friends soon comes to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.

Other random thoughts.

Those little wicked thoughts that run through your mind and need to be shot down.

Still mad…I hate being ignored.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Iron Man...

Cold-unsympathetic, Insensitive and inconsiderate, Hostile-angry, Cruel-sarcastic,  Unforgiving, Self-sufficient,  Domineering,  Opinionated and prejudiced, Proud,  Crafty, Undisciplined, Weak-willed Restless,  Disorganised,  Unproductive,  Undependable,  Obnoxious-loud,  Egocentric,  Exaggerates,  Fearful and insecure.

These are all words that have been used to describe me. I shall deny them or defend them. I am a little tired. Instead I shall embrace them. I shall embrace them because I believe that that is the only way that one can really make strides forward.

I shall not apologise for them either. That is who I am and until I am someone else I shall remain so. Don’t get me wrong this is not an acceptance of poorly character but a stand, a plea if you wish, a statement that those that seek for me to be better, because let’s face it, this affects you more than it affects me, show more of that which  you want me to see and perhaps I shall be convinced by YOUR good works.

A little unrepentant? Maybe.

This onslaught has had one good side effect. It has set me on a path of self-discovery. Even though I do not admit it, I too yearn for the approval of men and women and I am bothered by anything that shakes and so I have sought and still seek to amend my ‘wicked’ ways so that we could all just get along.

This journey has sent me deep within, both my heart and my head and both places are terrifying even for me.:) But into the darkness and deep I ventured for I wanted to become a ‘better man’ , a ‘nicer’ man and all those other clichés.

My first port of call was denial. I did not believe that all this was true. I was amazed at how childish and myopic people could be. “Couldn’t they see that all my intentions were pure”. I wondered, “Couldn’t they see that semantics and words were unimportant?” Apparently not because I was berated again and again and tactless was my middle name.

My second port of call was doubt. Maybe all this was true. Maybe they had a point. All these people could not possibly be wrong. I had to do something.

My third port was resignation. It must be true. I embraced my image and call. I thrived in it and run with it. But that did not go well with many people and I guess I earned the reputation for being brutally honest as many of my friends called it.

They said it with their mouths but I guess this was ok as long as the guns were not directed in their direction. When it was their turn, well the love was not there.

This led me to the next port which was full of so many things, Confusion, hurt, betrayal and more.  But I skip a head. This was much later after I had taken the detour to acceptance.

This phase saw me go to all lengths to get rid of my bad boy persona. I read all I could about each and every one of the above traits and how I could get rid of them, replacing them with all the good and nice replacements. I removed all my armour and looked into the abyss. It was not pretty.

Not only did I dredge up so much stuff that I had to deal with but all the guys I thought would be cheering me on where nowhere to be seen. In fact it seemed that I had removed all my armour to wade into this river yet I needed that armour to deal with the monsters of the soul and the arrows that now  pierce my flesh.

I was too occupied to protect myself now. Too exposed. Too  open. Too naked. That is all I was now. Less of what I was with more of stuff I did not need to deal with it. Think of it as having a task and not having the tools because you had to leave them behind because you were told that you could only progress if you left them behind. So there I was down the river without a paddle.

This brings me to where I am now and what I am only now realising and hope to put down in the next couple of pages.

other random thoughts

Cool read. Check out the website.

humility...much harder than pride.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Hard on the inside and hippies.

I am clumsy when it comes to writing about my life. I would like to blast away and craftfully share the deep insights of my soul but I end up going on a tangent and I obfuscate the facts.

I am unsure about sharing of myself or rather about myself. Originally I never saw the need to share ‘stuff’ about myself because I was never weak nor was I in need of help from many people. If I had a problem I knew where to take it and me always sorted things out. I was iron clad.

Then come the ‘Hippies’ all touchy feely and ‘in tune’ with their emotions and feminine sides. I was berated and lambasted, cajoled and convinced until gradually, more out of obedience to scripture about being open to rebuke and teaching, than from any confidence I had in the whole concept of being sensitive.

Allow me run amok thought-wise; I doubt there is any scripture where you can find God described as nice. I doubt you can point to many points in the Bible where God was ‘kind’ or sensitive to the feelings of the people. I am sure you will not find any verse or phrase which somehow revealed that God did some self-editing just because the fragility of the brethren was in jeopardy.

So anyways, back to the story. I heard and re heard this and chose to be the vulnerable and sensitive person that everyone told me was a better person and would make my life and relationships easier.

The moment I opened up was the moment the first arrow of hurt and betrayal zinged home. I learned that many time people will tell you that you need to be a certain way just because they are uncomfortable with the fact that you have chosen the high road or such other thing.

All my advocators were suddenly unavailable to give the same response they had encouraged me to give sometime maybe perhaps begged me to apply and suddenly it dawned on me, I had been hood winked, twice, and now here I am naked and without armour and the cloud is darkened by arrows.

But, all that said I cannot say the experience is not without its benefits. I miss and prefer the former Andrew but I doubt he would make God this happy and I doubt he would be able to do certain things. So I put all in the hands of God, where it a ought to be.

Philippians 3:13-14
New International Version (NIV)
13 Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, 14 I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

Friday, December 16, 2011

The search for the God particle goes beyond mere physics

 By Michael Gerson, Friday, December 16, 5:09 AM

The God particle — really the Higgs boson — still resists confirmation, though scientists at the Large Hadron Collider recently reported “tantalizing hints” of its existence. They also reject the notion that their search has anything to do with God, which is only technically true.

Modern physics can explain just about everything, except why anything has mass. The Standard Model of physics, which emerged four decades ago, employs an elegant mathematical formula to account for most of the elemental forces in the universe. It correctly predicted the discovery of various leptons and quarks in the laboratory.

But the equation doesn’t explain gravity. So the Standard Model requires the existence of some other force that seized the massless particles produced by the Big Bang and sucked them into physicality. The detection of Higgs bosons would confirm this theory — which is why scientists are smashing protons into one another in a 17-mile round particle accelerator and picking through the subatomic wreckage.

It will take a few more years for definitive results. But most scientists don’t seem to appreciate the glorious improbability — and philosophic implications — of the entire enterprise.

In 1928, theoretical physicist Paul Dirac combined the mathematical formulas for relativity and quantum mechanics into a single equation and predicted the existence of antimatter. Antimatter was duly discovered in 1932. But why should a mathematical equation — the product of brain chemistry — describe physical reality? It is not self-evident that there should be any correspondence between mathematical formulas and the laws of the universe. Modern physics does not consist of measured phenomena summarized in elegant equations; it consists of elegant equations that predict measured phenomena. This has been called “the unreasonable effectiveness of mathematics.” However unreasonable, it led to the construction of the Large Hadron Collider along the border of France and Switzerland, the largest machine ever built by human beings.

Dr. Ard Louis, a young physicist teaching at the University of Oxford, recalls his first encounter with Dirac’s equation. “How can mathematics demand something so fantastical from nature? I was sure it couldn’t be true and spent many hours trying to find a way out. When I finally gave up and saw that there was no way around Dirac’s result, it gave me goose bumps. I remember thinking that even if I never used my years of physics training again, it would have been worth it just to see something so spectacularly beautiful.”

Louis describes a cumulative case for wonder. Not only does the universe unexpectedly correspond to mathematical theories, it is self-organizing — from biology to astrophysics — in unlikely ways. The physical constants of the universe seem finely tuned for the emergence of complexity and life. Slightly modify the strength of gravity, or the chemistry of carbon, or the ratio of the mass of protons and electrons, and biological systems become impossible. The universe-ending Big Crunch comes too soon, or carbon isn’t produced, or suns explode.

The wild improbability of a universe that allows us to be aware of it seems to demand some explanation. This does not require theism. Some physicists favor the theory of the multiverse, in which every possible universe exists simultaneously. If everything happens, it is not surprising that anything happens. But this is not a theory that can be scientifically tested. Other universes, by definition, are not accessible. The multiverse is metaphysics — just as subject to the scientific method as the existence of heaven.

One reasonable alternative — the one advocated by Louis — is theism. It explains a universe finely tuned for life and accessible to human reason. It accounts for the cosmic coincidences. And a theistic universe, unlike the alternatives, also makes sense of free will and moral responsibility.

This is not proof for the existence of God. But the conflict here is not between faith and science; it is between the competing faiths of theism and materialism, neither of which can claim to be proved by science. Modern physics has accelerated smack into the limits of the scientific method. It raises questions it cannot answer but that human beings cannot avoid — matters of meaning and purpose. This is not a failure of science, just a recognition that measurement is not the only source of meaning.

Our response to nature’s astounding symmetries is not only rational but aesthetic. Some, like Louis, feel goose bumps and thankfulness. Others are angered by such sentimentalism. Yet this would be a sad epitaph for modern science: It revealed wonders but was numb to wonder.

(Gerson writes about politics, religion, foreign policy and global health and development in a twice-a-week column and on the Post  Partisan blog)

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Little Man

looking for the Hero within...every man is one.

Running from it all

Now Ahab told Jezebel everything Elijah had done and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword. So Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah to say, “May the gods deal with me, be it ever so severely, if by this time tomorrow I do not make your life like that of one of them.”

Elijah was afraid and ran for his life.

Imagine everybody’s shock as Elijah, the man who had slain thousands of prophets and had called down fire, fled across the desert to scared to rest and too ashamed to look the people in the face. Imagine his sense of failure and the challenge and beating his manhood had taken.

What had come over him? What caused him to suddenly bolt and the sound of Jezebels voice? Why would a man, who faced off against thousands of devil inspired prophets suddenly blanch at the high pitched threats of a power mad woman? That we shall never know for the Bible does not tell us so.

But one thing is for sure, he felt dejected, alone, tired and worn out and probably angry and bitter. He could have been angry and bitter at all the ‘other’ prophets who had deserted and left him standing alone. Maybe he was angry at a former class mate or village friend who has shied away when he needed them most. I do not know.

But one thing I am sure he felt was shame and a sense of failure. He dealt with one of number one fears every man deals with almost daily. He had failed. He had blown it. People were counting on him and he had no solution.

So he did the only thing he knew how to. He fled. To the only place he knew so well, the desert. Remember that before the confrontation at Horeb he and Ahab had played cat and mouse in these very desert waddies and he had managed to keep one step ahead all this time.

And so he figured that he could do it one more time. Run to familiar territories and probably the solace of solitude. He did not have to answer to anyone out there, explain to them or meet their gaze. He did not have to face their accusing stares no measure his achievements against those that had come before.

Elijah the mighty prophet was running away not just from Jezebel but from his own heavy conscience.

He came to a broom bush, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. “I have had enough, LORD,” he said. “Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.” 5 Then he lay down under the bush and fell asleep.

One thing is for sure heavy burdens are exhausting and Elijah could run no more. The weight of his heart brought him to his knees and he cried out to God and promptly fell into a deep sleep.

Thank God for sleep.

He considered leaving his call, “I have had enough, LORD,”

Elijah despaired of life. “Take my life”

He disregarded his past achievement and compared himself to those that came before him, “I am no better than my ancestors”

He embraced failure.


God had other plans

All at once an angel touched him and said, “Get up and eat.” He looked around, and there by his head was some bread baked over hot coals, and a jar of water. He ate and drank and then lay down again.
The angel of the LORD came back a second time and touched him and said, “Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you.” So he got up and ate and drank. Strengthened by that food, he traveled forty days and forty nights until he reached Horeb, the mountain of God.

I am always fascinated by the last bit of verse 8, ‘he traveled forty days and forty nights until he reached Horeb, THE MOUNTAIN OF GOD.

God did not curse him nor did he cast him out. God did not sternly rebuke nor did he reprimand him for his poor showing instead God arranged for room service, a meal and an encounter that would remind Elijah not just of who he(Elijah) was but also of who God was and still is.

Elijah lamented, twice how bad things were but God did not even flinch. Instead he tells Elijah to go anoint kings and anoint his own successor. God plans were in no way limited by the actions of Elijah or those of Jezebel.

God showed him one again just how power full he was and hose determined he was to bring all that Elijah had been told to pass. He was committed 100 percent even when Elijah was down and almost out.
And he stired again the heart of the prophet and gave him encouraging word, “you are not alone my friend for I have 700 others like you who have neither bowed their knee nor worshiped Baal.

Gods way and plan cannot be halted and His commitment and love towards us and out wellbeing is an ever fixed and immovable fact….

Other Random Facts

I haven’t slept properly in a week.

Some coffee really gives you bad heart burns.

Creativity is not synonymous with spontaneity.

God, He understands.

Can You Feel That?

Imagine a world where all questions went answered. All burst of expression went un noticed and all achievements where not cheered on. Imagine  for a second that all hellos were greeted with a blank stare. All attempts at starting fights were not even shrugged off and and when you hugged someone their hands remained limp besides their bodies and your smile was met with a glam look.

Imagine a world, not just without emotion but one where all your attempts at human interaction went unanswered?

What would go through your head?

Now imagine for a moment that all your prayers and please never got answered. Not that God said no but he just did not say anything. Imagine that he did not even acknowledge that you had even prayed?

What would that make you feel and do to you?

If you have truly imagined and let your mind paint a picture of that in you head…next time some one says hello or tries to interact with you…don’t ignore them.

Other random thoughts

A world without forgiveness.

A world with no acknowledgement that you even asked for forgiveness.

A world where apologies were made but there was no belief that, harm, was done in the first place.

Heavens that were as bronze shields.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Why bother with Human beings?

Why bother with people at all. They are fickle, unreliable and God knows what else is amiss in their heads.
They are evil. Brainless or brain dead, at least that is what it seems to me. I have searched my heart and can find no reason to be bothered.

The last few months have been like some sort of weird emotional rollercoaster and for a proud unfeeling choleric that has so totally been….well hectic to say the least.

For the last few years I have heard the mantra, “be more sensitive, be nice, be gentle and be vulnerable.’’ And like a dinosaur peeling of their scales I listened and started the painful process. It was not funny. It was not nice and there were no pink fluffy bunnies to tell me how well I was doing.

In the name of being more open and human I peeled back layer after layer of myself even delving into the deep dark places of my heart to find out the true root of this or that habit, view point or opinion and this most times was like walking down memory lane in a bad dream.

It was mining for gold and unearthing a deep, dark ancient terror that just engulf you totally.

I fought this off and still continue to fight it off, all the while to be good at this sensitive nice guy stuff but it seems I was hoodwinked. I had the wool pulled over my eyes. I was out played, out manoeuvred and sucker punched for the moment the last piece of armour fell, the first arrow hit home.

Remember that roller coaster I mentioned, well that turned out to be the introduction. Now comes the hurt, betrayal and utter, total confusion. I don’t even know if I can type it all out but let’s just say I wonder why I bother with human beings. They have the scruples of pirates and worse manners that a jacked up hound (whatever that means.)

They ask for honesty with their mouths but in their hearts they say, ‘’tell me the truth…as long as it does not hurt, embarrass, offend me etc.’’ which is just jacked up if you ask me.  Church people are the worst because they all put on a façade. It's like going to a masquerade ball knowing that an assassin is out to get you, the masks just adding to the macabre set up for the final showdown.

So my closest friend(s) threw me out, or froze up or just could not keep up. My job, which is with xtians just sacks with back biting and God, knows what else. They lift up hands and breed evil hearts. They say the most wicked things and then turn around and make you feel unholy for being holy. Yeah I know that’s just screwed up.

I just don’t see any reason to bother with humans beings.

Well probably except one, the only thing that makes me fight through clouds of depression, waves of anger, tremors of shock and disbelief and mind numbing throat chocking hopelessness…GOD SAYS SO.
I don’t know why I bother with people. But daddy does it and so I guess I shall too.

Other random thoughts.

And Elijah was afraid and ran for his life.

Remove and Simplify.

I need to learn how to cook great chicken…I hear it shall come in handy.

What do you think God was thinking when he made Hippopotamuses.

Monday, December 12, 2011

Living Free in a World of Dreams

I have always loved to believe that we can live an extra ordinary life in a dreary and mundane world. Squeezing a colourful existence from the greyness of our worlds and the little gilded cages we now call success.

But every day feels like a battle. Every day feels like some new foe has arisen and like the master at the top of the fight chain your life becomes one insane battle after another insane battle and just when you think you have subdued yet another challenge another one pops up and before the wounds can heal or the stitches set you are back in the centre of the ring. Sometimes I feel my stiches have stiches and my scars have scars.

I am uniquely built for this purpose. Like a fighting man I am raised to do this. I am not sure how this was but in way I developed into a fighter. Not just one who loves fighting but a fighter. Before I was timid and shy but full of energy that expressed itself in an innate curiosity. I spend my days by myself imaging worlds upon world that even the architects in the movie ‘inception’ would be proud.

Maze upon maze, labyrinth upon labyrinth, worlds where I thrived and excelled and well won. I never really gave up on something except when I found it boring. I was always the one finding a solution to that tech problem at home. I knew how to tune and work all electronic and electric gadgets in the house and where the perfect spot was to place to aerial to gain the best reception.

Time to sleep. Wake up and here is to another day of being miserable and not knowing how to get out of it.

Other random thoughts….

Death is not always pleasurable.

I have cried for help and no one has answered

And just when I am feeling down God brings another person for me to help…or at least be there for. It’s kind of a weird story actually.

Honesty is a mad hornet with a steel tipped sting.

Its (honesty) is the best policy but has high premiums.