I Am Full of Dirt

I entitled this blog "Beautiful Collision" because of how powerful and lovely the image of infinite, holy, perfect God, literally colliding into finite, dirty, imperfect human. To me that's breathtaking. I continue to struggle with the reality of this, all of the implications, the full truth of it. I'm fully conscious of my dirtiness, and God's holiness, but the whole Him diving from Heaven to collide into me is still hard for me to grasp.

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

And he answered, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself." And he said to him, "You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live." But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?"-Luke 10:27-29

My Best Friend

My best friend is Conner Clemens. I haven't spoken to him in several years, and that was but a brief and awkward moment. It was years before that, and years before that. I would say in the last 15 years I've spoken with him three times. Maybe. All of them brief.

I moved to Oregon in August, a few months before I turned 7, and one month before school started. I just moved here, not even settled down, and then I had to take another leap into the wide world of Public School. First Grade. Mrs. Hubadavacheck. Yep, that's a real name and a real person. I remember being scared to death, and wondering how I was going to make it without my mom being there. But I did somehow, and out of it I met my best friend. We had a fantastic Elementary School boyhood. He had a "field" for a back yard (it was just a big yard, not at all a field. It's sad how things get smaller the older you get) and we liked to play war, football, knights, whatever back there. We would stay up late at his house playing his Sega and watching TV. The house he lived in had four bedrooms, and two living rooms, so his sister, mom, and himself would move around from room to room. It seemed like it was always a different room each time I stayed the night. Sometimes his mom would take us into town, and we would play with all the toys in the store. Every year we went to the fair on bracelet day. The only word to describe those days is scrumtrulescent.