Another Step Forward

This semester seems to be the semester in which I am launched into the 21st century.

Not only have I begun to regularly use a dishwasher (which admittedly is more convienent than washing by hand), I bought a cell phone (which is admittedly more convienent than a land line).
To top it all off, I bought a laptop! My mooching days are just about over. No longer will I have to ask Sam or Josh if I can use their computer to type six page essays or to do french homework.
Ironically, the very thing that is supposed to be furthering my studies is actually detracting from them. The newness of the computer has yet to wear off, and I'm still fiddiling around with all these new options and back grounds. Oh well.

Is a car in my future? I hope I leave the country for an extended period of time before that happens. Till then, I owe many friends much gas money.

The Problem with Explosives

In the spirit of the confessional blog, I'm making...well a confession.
Minesweeper is the most mindlessly addicting game currently in existence. Few know the way of Minesweeper and quickly lose interest. Not I! I tirelessly press forward as I try to clear through precarious mines that may turn my happy smiley face into a dead clown face. If you ever visit the ASB computer lab, check the minesweeper high scores, there is a good chance you'll see my name. I've probably saved about a dozen smiley faces in this dangerous practice, but countless more have gone into computer oblivian never to return. When will I cease my attempts at saving Smiley? Probably not until I'm in the jungles of a third world country. (You think I'm kidding.)

A Silent Journey

I experienced a lonely bus ride this afternoon as I returned to Sagewood after a full day of school. The only audible sounds where the giant diesel engine of the bus, and the cracking and crashing that accompanies every bump and pot hole because the University refuses to install shocks so that its students can have an enjoyable commute.

Anyone who knows me is fully aware that I despise the over-stimulated aspect of our culture. Quiet: good. Rest: good. No cable TV: extremely good. What bothered me about this recent twenty-minute journey was that the bus was full of people. One young woman was standing at the front because no man (or should I say boy?) was bold enough or kind enough to offer his seat.

A full bus, yet we sat in silence. I attempted to read Plato’s dialogue, the Meno, to drown out my guilty conscience. “Say hello to the guy next to you. Ask the girl about her day.” My selfish self replies, why should I be the one to break the norm?

Why don’t we engage each other? Why are we content in our prison of isolation? I try to imagine this hollow tube of metal, this temporary dungeon, full of conversation, brimming with life and laughter. To meet five or six new people every day – that would be over stimulating. But we would be connected. There would a community, despite its brevity. It seems that we want the overwhelming noise, music, movies, anything to drown out the rest of the world. We don’t want the responsibility that comes with establishing relationships and bearing the burdens of others. Our hearts go out to victims of Katrina, but we become embittered when the disabled person makes our bus trip fifteen minutes longer. We want to be detached. Why else do I only know 4 of my 12 immediate neighbors?

So why should I be the one that breaks the norm? Because I call myself a Christ-follower. I do not rest content with what our culture believes to be good enough. There are people surrounding me who need the Gospel. How will they know of redemption if I am too detached/selfish/scared to open my mouth? So often I am more concerned with my self-image than I am about the glory of the Lord. It’s time to get my priorities straight.