Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Pandora thinks Mars Ill is like LA Symphony...I guess I agree

I've been lying awake at night thinking and it’s eerily unsettling. Things are running through my head that haven’t ever run through my head before. They aren't bad...but I can't yet tell you all that they are. I haven’t ever been able to not go to sleep due to my thoughts. I consider myself a deep thinker but I’m always able to think a little bit before I go to bed and than carry on my thinking when I awake. But recently I’ll just lie there staring into the light not focusing my eyes on anything in particular. 

My hearts been heavy recently but that’s not the reason of my inability to sleep. I’ve been able to go to sleep when my hearts been heavy before. 

My brother, while watching a Syracuse basketball game last week at Beef, told me that we should start writing a screenplay and so one night that I lie awake I did just that. It’s hard to write a screenplay kind of like writing a symphony, which my mom told me I couldn’t do after I told her that I could. I’ll write one before I die. Believe that. So I got a piece of paper and while in my hole began to write a screenplay. I’d give you the premise of the screenplay but I’m afraid you’d steal it and write a better one before I finished. I can tell you that it’s mildly based around my life. (Obviously the easiest screenplay to write. It’s my first one I thought I’d take on something more easy.) But that’s not the thing that I think you’re going to steal. I wrote the first scene. It’s hard to write dialogue perfect but not too perfect.

Dialogue that’s too perfect is like…The Gilmore Girls…so perfect that it’s awful and very unrealistic. Dialogue too fast to been even reasonably true. That’s not even mentioning that Lorelai acts younger than her daughter which makes the show even more awful. I bought a season of The Gilmore Girls for my sister last year for Christmas…that just shows you how much I love my sister. 

I’d just like to say that Seinfeld is the best sitcom ever created hands down. It’s not even close. The next best sitcom is probably Frasier. I know every girl in America would say that Friends is the best. I have no idea why girls like Friends so bloody much. Maybe because they wish they would be like the girls on friends? Let me give you an analogy of how much better Seinfeld is than Friends. Seinfeld is to Friends as Jennifer Aniston is to Sarah Jessica Parker. And I think we all know how ugly guys think Sarah Jessica Parker is. One girl tried to tell me once that Sarah wasn’t ugly because she wore cute clothes. I said nope, homegirls ugly is she’s wearing Prada or Kmart. If Brad Pitt but on a uni I'd still have a mancrush on him. My best friend doesn’t like Seinfeld. I don’t know how we get along. 

If you’re good at writing screenplays I’d love to have some help sometime. I don’t know that much about it other than I know how to make good dialogue between individuals. If you have good ideas or can write very well and want to sit down with me and help me than let me know. 

My friend just called me and she was drunk. I enjoy it when people call me when they are drunk. It’s like having my own personal audio honesty box. That people trust me enough that they feel that they can call me when they are drunk to talk to me is a hardcore compliment to me. Thanks. 

Things for you to comment about:
Why am I not sleeping? 
The best sitcom ever and why?
And if you were to write a screenplay what would the premise be? 
Any other thoughts. 

Love. War.  

% Page Trimble

...and scorpion pose...hold it...don't forget to breath.

I went to a yoga class today. I’ve wanted to go to a yoga class for a long time. It’s one of those things that people think it’s gay for guys to do so I want to do it…because I’m into shattering molds. I also can knit, sew, and talk for hours on the phone about nothing. ;) So while I was in this yoga class the instructor said something that I was a little annoyed with. She said, during our breathing, in the beginning of the class: “breath all the way out and get that stalel air out of your lungs.” I imagine that she was trained to say this or has just heard some other yoga instructor say something of this nature and I just thought in my head, “that might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Stale air. As if there is this air somewhere in my lungs that if I don’t breath out all the way that it’s getting stagnate. Like some sort of mosquitoes that live in my lungs are laying eggs in the stagnate air there. No offense to my yoga instructor, who for all intents and purposes, could be reading this, but that statement made me somewhat frustrated the rest of my yoga class. 

Walking around today I was pretty nostalgic. This is the end to my favorite time of year and the beginning of my second favorite time. Something about cold weather that makes you think more about life and the things around you. These are some things I’m thinking about: Does sin in my life keep me from getting the things that God wants me to have, when girls are beautiful do they know that they are beautiful or do they think they need to keep trying to be better looking than the girl closet to them, if most of life is vain than what should I be spending time doing that really matters, and the last thing that I’ve been thinking today is why don’t I do the things I want to do. For instance; I want to be better at guitar but I don’t pick it up and practice. I also would love to be able to make beats on my computer and rap to them. I could do it but I just haven’t. I’d like to pleasure read more but I can’t find the time. But then I think that all those things are selfish and in vain. 

So much more to say, so little worth saying. love. war. 

With a Mild Blow to your Ego we can Begin to Traverse

My mind is somewhat plagued by the different nuances of people I’ve never met but run into every day. I spend a lot of my fickle, vain life trying to figure out the reason behind these avaricious people. Without reckoning my views of them with them themselves I’m left with an unfilled longing to grasp the real breath that is breathed be believers and non-believers alike. More than six billion inhabitants of this God-made Earth all thinking special things, different things, diverse things. The simple but complex question then comes; who’s right?

Without the right words to really express the facts due to my somewhat jaded emotions I look to other brilliant men for the answer; men that you might have gleaned from before. Men like Denish D’Souza. Brilliance is hard to come by. I think everyone wishes they were brilliant and if you say you don’t then I can’t believe you. The problem with brilliance though is that some people are brilliant but they are wrong in the things they believe. Men get trapped behind their brilliance and it causes them to think sometimes that they are greater or smarter than the one that made them. This is true for people, e.g. Chris Hitchens. You can watch for yourself and let me know who you think is right and who is wrong. Obviously both men are brilliant we’re not discussing that. But what person out of these two uses his brilliance right. 

Monday, October 27, 2008

It's not the love complete but it's close

So here I am; in the middle of my third to last semester of college contemplating life like never before. It’s obvious to me some things about life that I’ve recently been thinking about. And the amount that I’ve grown in the past 2 years is rather scary to me and sometimes makes me want to cry…but not now. Saying that I’d like to address one of my more negative personality traits and would love to hear your thoughts on the matter.

Some of my friends have told me in the past that I do whatever I want and have no regard for anyone else. Valentina would say that “[I] think I own the world” but I would say that while that statement is hyperbole there is a part of her, and my friends, that think a part of it to be true; one of my friends in particular whom I think very highly of.

There have been two verses in the Bible that I have been mulling over in my head for the past year with profuse regularity: Proverbs 17:28 and Phillipians 2:3
The first reads “Even a fool, when he holds his peace, is counted wise: and he that shuts his lips is esteemed a man of understanding” and the ladder “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.”

The reason that these two verses are at the forefront of my mind is that they are the toughest for me to live out. My mouth and my pride. While I’m consistently and constantly working on these things there is one other thing that I struggle with that I’m writing about to you today, indifference. Now I know when you hear the word indifference you think of a lot of things and I would estimate to say that the indifference that I have is much different than the indifference that shrouds my peers. I am not indifferent to politics, thoughts, opinions, views, love, hate, or even people. What I am indifferent to is the thought that people have towards me. And even more stated the things that hold people inside their individual roles as good citizens doing what they think that they should do and not doing what they think they shouldn’t do. The question then is what is allowed and what isn’t allowed. Or even better what is good and what is bad.
So I’ve come up with an idea on what I think is good and bad in terms of what you should and shouldn’t do when interacting with others; in public and private. First I want to say that I do not think that something is bad because others don’t do it. I think that a reason a lot of people don’t do things is fear…pure unadulterated fear. Second, saying that I’d also like to say that this “problem” of indifference is tied into my pride, which I would say is ever lingering like the smell of a sock full of diarrhea in a place that you can’t find in your room. (But I’m searching for it like a madman armed with a spray bottle of bleach, some gasoline and a lighter..I’m a smoker (not habitual one)…and I’d burn down the house if necessary, and am) Third, I’m not going to tell you what I’ve come up with but would rather hear your thoughts on the matter. I’m very interested on what you think and I’m going to leave a few things Paul said that I want you to think about before you reply. If you don’t believe in the Bible or God please don’t comment on that because that’s not the issue here but rather what you think should be the governing factor on people’s actions.

Romans 13:1, "Everyone must submit himself to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God."
Romans 13:2 "Consequently, he who rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves."

Romans 13:5-7 “Therefore, it is necessary to submit to the authorities, not only because of possible punishment but also because of conscience. This is also why you pay taxes, for the authorities are God's servants, who give their full time to governing. Give everyone what you owe him: If you owe taxes, pay taxes; if revenue, then revenue; if respect, then respect; if honor, then honor.”

If respect, then respect! How legit is Paul right here acknowledging that sometimes things are owed to people that aren’t tangible. Respect and Honor. So legit.

I'm listening to "Love Complete" by the Epochs. If you know what this song is talking about please tell me.

Respect on boobs. It doesn't get more respectful than that...I don't think.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Insert a title here that makes you want to read this

I haven’t smoked a cigarette in a month and a half. That’s interesting because I thought most of my inspiration came from the steady inhale and exhale of smoke. Not the addicted inhale and exhale that comes from lifelong smokers and that nice little cough they cough that makes your eyes wince as your head cocks back just a little as if you’re somehow getting out of the way of it, but rather the steady, cool, calm, collected, thoughtful smoking that artists do after playing that show that make a thousand kids have to wash their clothes when they go home. Yeah I’ve figured out that my inspiration doesn’t come from cigarettes.

I’ve also figured out that a lot of things annoy me. Some things I really can’t put into words and other things I can. I used to not want to admit that things annoyed me because it seems childish but that’s like trying to ignore your allergies…denial doesn’t make them go away…and then came Zyrtec…and then another hour having to be worked to afford the Zyrtec. (No I don’t get paid 27.58 an hour…but close) Life.

Everyday for the past month I have been getting up an hour early to go running (Valentina). And it’s a different experience every time. I don’t think a time of running goes down without me thinking, “wow…I’m running if Africa.” (insert: another honest statement about running that I’m not yet allowed to say…because I’m a leader) A lot of this trip has been me thinking about things that have happened in Africa and being like, “…now I can say that I’ve driven on the left side of the road in Africa” only to realize how childish and vain it is. One, because I won’t ever remember all the things that I’ve done in my life when I’m 40 and two because it’s stupid because this just isn’t an experience that I’m having in Africa but rather part of my life. A part of a bigger picture…my life…go figure. I guess I am glad that I can say that Africa is a part now of that bigger picture of my life. And I’ve made about ten new friends and about five close friends. Life’s great…I think.

The main reason I’m writing is to ask you a question. The question is this: Are there things in your life that you do to please other people? I’ll give you an example of what that means. I want people to think that I’m interesting so sometimes when people are coming over to my house that haven’t ever been there I’ll make myself…or rather time myself to be doing something/anything outside so it looks like I don’t spend a lot of time just inside watching Fox News. I’ll get my bike out and be messing with it or start cleaning the garage or doing something with my chickens. Do you know what I’m saying? Stupid stuff that doesn’t make any sense because it’s fake. Fake. Fake. Fake…and so I thought to myself…am I a fake person. A lot of people would say that I’m the realist person that they’ve ever meet. So how do the two go together? Me being real and me being fake. Well the answer is that you can’t sum me up with one word like real or fake. I’m a little more complex than that. Sometimes I’m fake and sometimes I’m real…very, very real. Even the people that you think are fake aren’t always fake; when they are lying in their bed at night they have real thoughts and real emotions and they are very real with themselves. When they are kissing their boyfriends and it leads to other things they are being very real with themselves and with the people they are with. Real. Real. Real.

So what is it that you do to please people or cause them to think something about you that’s not true? It could be something that’s the opposite like you do something that you know you’re not…like cocaine. I know people that have done cocaine or even do cocaine but those people aren’t cocaine. The question is then when are you going to stop being something you’re not. When you are going to start being who you are…and when are you going to start being real with people? It looks like for me, to be real with people, to show them my true self, to start being quiet. I am a quiet person. I know you don’t believe me but it’s true. Being quiet is something that scares me but it’s just who I am. You haven’t seen it before because it’s something that I do to “please people” (even though it doesn’t please a lot of people when I’m loud) I am loud and crazy and that’s comfortable to me because I think it’s what people want me to be.

So what am I? Who is Page Trimble? Am I what other people tell me I am or am I what I think I am or am I what my parents think of me or am I what the person who created me thinks I am or am I what I want to be? Am I loud or quiet or crazy or calm? If you think about it I’m sure you can say what you think I am. And if you do I’d love to hear it.

If you take some time and sit and think about who you are you’ll be able to realize it…and then you can start acting like it...or rather being it. (that’s the first thing that I’ve underlined in any one of my writings) It might take some good hard honest analyzing. It might take you asking your best friend who they think you are. I’ve found that the best way to realize what people think of you is to ask someone that doesn’t really know you how they see you and they will tell you how the world sees you…honestly. After you’ve done this you can stop pissing me off with your fakeness and I can stop pissing you off with my fakeness and we can start being real and honest and vulnerable and caring and loving with one another. I imagine this will piss God off a lot less too…he loves honesty and piss Satan off a little bit more. I promise you that I’ll take the time and try to love you if you’ll take the time and try to love someone else that you’ve been recently hurting…with your words or actions. Love. Not Beatles Love…but real love; 1st Corinthians 13 love. Holla.


Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Life took a shit on my child and then I flushed the toilet

A broken leg is like a broken heart save when we break a leg we go to the doctor immediately and get it fixed. But with our heart we think it’s less important than our physical bodies. Why don’t we go to the Great Healer when our hearts been crushes or broken and get healing? I want to take some time with you and share my heart but I can’t because I don’t even know my heart. I’d like to take sometime and tell you how much I’ve grown from the start of this trip to now and how much Gods restoring my heart but I can’t right now because I’m in the middle of the restoration process. You wouldn’t ask someone how it feels to be healthy when they are still in the hospital bed. That's should work on that.

I thought about my life today as I walked into town to use the internet and all the things that I have battled with my entire life. Can I take some time and tell you so you would know me better than you do now? Ever since I can remember I’ve been obsessed with girls; obsessed with the desire to be loved by them. It started with Abbey Saxby when I was younger and has since played itself out in very different ways from then till now. Since I can remember I’ve also battled pornography; almost my whole life, from age 10 when you first realize how great woman are till now at age 23. These two battles (obviously not the only battles I’ve faced) go hand in hand with one another. One shows my heart and the obsession I have for girls and the other shows the physical reaction to this desire to love and be loved. Why? I’ve asked myself the same question. Why do people use heroine or cocaine? It makes them feel good and it also covers up a pain that they have lodged deep inside their soul, if only for a short moment. Obviously since I say this was/is a battle I have battled it, meaning there were times when I didn’t struggle with it at all for months on end and times when I’ve battled with it quit literally every day. But it’s been there. I’ve been caught by my parents, siblings, friends, but it still didn’t stop. Several times I thought I have overcome this but the truth is that I don’t think I want to be over it yet. The selfish, disgusting desires of my flesh cause me to not want to walk in the spirit. Romans 8. And walking in the spirit is a choice and I’m wondering when I’m going to make that choice to completely do it. I’ve done it in my head I just haven’t done it in my heart quite yet. It’s coming though.

I’m wondering when I’m going to completely abandon the lusts of this world for something that I know is far greater; something that is chasing me and desiring to have a more intimate relationship with me. Friends we are kidding ourselves if we tell ourselves that we aren’t struggling with something. What is the lust of your heart that you are struggling with? What is that lust that is keeping you from experiencing the great relationship that God is calling you to with him through Jesus Christ? Pride. Yeah. It’s probably pride. I’m in the same boat.
The reason I’ve struggled with these things is a mixture of a lot of things; my parents, my friends, Satan. But the biggest thing is my rebellious nature. The desire I have to do what I want when I want to do it. I’m a rebel. Not the hot, cigarette smoking, motorcycle driving rebel that James Dean made famous but the disgusting, sinful do what I want apart from God type rebel. Although I still find time to smoke cigarettes.

I wish I could tell you friends that I have conquered these lusts in my life but I haven’t. I wish I could tell you that I didn’t get drunk the night before I came on this trip and hook up with a girl the night before my five hour drive to training camp. But what I can tell you is that God’s grace is sufficient (Eph 1:7), one, and two that he’s forgiven me for everything I’ve ever done. I’ve spent enough time feeling guilty for the things I’ve done in the past.

Something God’s teaching me on this trip is that I am growing even though I don’t see it. Like I told you earlier God’s restoring me and while I’m not in the place where I want to be God says that it’s all right because growth takes time (even though I want full growth now). He’s also answering prayer. I’ve been steadfast in prayer for wisdom searching it out like Soloman says, like hidden treasure. (Proverbs 2:4) the best way I know how. And I think it’s wisdom telling me now to tell you guys these things and release all these things to you to allow myself to heal and not hide. I’ve also been steadfast in prayer that God would prune me and cut back the branches in my life that are fruitless (John 15:1), and he has and will continue to.

Friends, being a leader on this trip is hard. There have been on several occasions an immature display of my mouth and what it looks like to not think out fully what I say in regards to how people will take it. On three different occasions I’ve had to apologize to the whole team for saying things I shouldn’t have said and on many other occasions having to apologize to individuals for the same thing. God again this summer is teaching my that my mouth is another struggle for me and compassion, and sensitivity, and patience, and pride, and and and and.

Obviously I have a lot of stuff in my life that I need to work on but I’m not alone. It’s also a process. I have written in pen on the palm of my hand: Growth is Slow!!! Eat your vegetables. This is something I have to be reminded of daily because I’m so hard on myself to be so spiritual and grown now.

Lovers this wasn’t easy writing; I’ll tell you the truth. I mean my grandparents receive these e-mails. Who wants to tell their grandma they struggle with lust and pornography. (I love you grandma) But I’ll tell you the truth it’s a very good thing. As soon as you realize that keeping your sin in the dark is the worst possible thing you could do to yourself and your heart you’ll be free from it. you’ll then also realize that the acceptance Jesus has for all of us sinners and the forgiveness through grace that he has for us is amazing. All you have to do is say Lord I’m giving my life over to you. So easy. So amazing. So ridiculously amazing. Sorry this has been a little bit more boring then perhaps other things I have written. I love you.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

I've never before seen skin rotting but I've never been in Africa either.

Daniel sat in the corner somewhat lonely which was interesting because he was surrounded by his team who was listening to him. He was speaking about the burning passion God had laid on his life to help the homeless in Swazi. With tears running down his face and a spirit to love he told us about his vision; a vision to help the homeless people on the streets of Manzini. I’m not going to tell you any more about the vision because it’s not my story to tell but rather I’m going to tell you what it’s like to be in my shoes for a month.

The problem is with listening to God, for me, is it’s very hard to know whether it’s God talking, the enemy (Satan) talking, or just the thoughts and dreams in my head talking which sometimes I think outnumber the grains of sand on the Earth, sorry Abraham.

Step back for a second and think in your head the last time you think that God spoke to you. If you don’t believe in God don’t assume that the answer is never. Like a still small voice in the back on your head saying. “Hey, I love you.” If you do believe in God and he hasn’t spoke to you in a while why do you think that is?

Life in this country is different from what you think, save the cows walking in the middle of the road, (the government has tried to put up fence but people just steal it and use it at their individual homesteads) and the kids having only rice and beans to eat. Africa as you think it is: wars, chaos, turmoil, strife, exists here but not to the extent which you think.

I’m struggling to find out what God has with my future and when I think about my future I think about you. I think about all the people on this Earth that are going through the things they are going through and I get sad. So much hurt and loneliness, so much lack of love that it hurts my heart. There have been some sad things that have come to pass since I last talked to you; when I visited the government “hospital” (I use this term hospital loosely) I met this kid named Micosi, pronounced with a click in the beginning of his name, his legs were shattered by a car that hit him. His friend laid next to him in the bed with a broken leg and the device used to heal his leg was primitive. Wood taped to it with a weight at the end of the bed hanging down pulling his toes to keep his foot stretched out while he waited for it to heal. Some of the kids spend 2 months in the hospital and sometimes die because they don’t have a simple medicine/antibiotic to heal their infections or their bronchitis, pneumonia, cold or flu. A another child whose penis was rotting away because no one was changing his diaper but rather letting his sit in his own filth. A team member took the child, changed the child, held the child, prayed over the child, loved the child, and now, to be quit frank, the child is dead. I don’t know what the child was suffering from or even the child’s name but things like this are so hard to understand and bear.

It brings great joy to my heart to see my team and the way they love. To see my team picking up kids at the care points that are orphans and sometimes wearing no pants and getting peed on and the team mates loving them just the same; seven children hanging on Ryan as he plays the flying game, others playing countless hours of soccer with some of the youths. This is what life is here for us in Swaziland. It’s a life sold out for Jesus Christ because at the end of the day you are either serving yourself or serving Jesus and the difference between the both are life, life to the fullest or death.

The only other thing I have to say is this:

If you continue running from what God wants in your life you’ll end up and old, poor, sick individual. To live without Christ isn’t life at all. Jesus said “I have come to bring you life, life to the fullest” and with that life comes hardship, growth, maturity, and a unquenchable thirst in your spirit that desires to see God and the way he works and acts. If God made the world and all the things in it and then made us and then sent his son Jesus to die on the cross for us, just so we can be in unity with God, then you know that you’re not worthless. If you’re worth dying for then you’re precious; precious enough to be called a child of God.

Swaziland is like a sea without fish, and the people are fishing

His name was Sipho and he was across the road yelling "Hello, Hello" He was about 51 years old, in a wheelchair, and suffering from a bad case of polio that he had had since he was 16 years old. A loud, obnoxious fellow; his voice made up for how insignificant he felt in that wheelchair. He said, as he came curbside to me and my team, "I called you from across the street and you didn't answer me. You ignored me because I am disabled." I said "brother I'm the leader of this team and I have to make sure that they are all right before I can turn around and acknowledge someone yelling to me from across the street." He understood, I think, after I told him a couple times. His eyes were full of yellow. His skin was rough and longing for a soft bed, a shower, and maybe some amazing American lotion. I sat down on the curb and said what's your name brother. As he told me I asked him what we could do for him. He said with great passion: since I am disabled no one will care for me, no one cares for a disabled man. He beat his chest as to show us how resilient he was. "I am very hungry and no one cares for me." He had a friend by him that was pushing him and I asked what about him, "doesn't he care for you" and he replied in English in a thick African accent "No he doesn't care for me all he does is push me." I said "brother I care for you as I looked at him." I said "what can we do to help you, what do you want." He said "I am very hungry and I want food." I said "I will buy you some food but under one condition." I said "I'll go buy you food if you let my team come over you and pray for you." He said "yes, pray for Sihpo." I said "what can we pray for you for" and he said "EVERYTHING. I WANT EVERYTHING." So we prayed. The kind of prayers that God hears in a chorus of pleading and longing. A pleading and longing for God to allow us to show Shipo our love. Prayers that weren't selfish or empty but full of love and full of hope.

So we went. I got behind him and wheeled him to the town; the local Shoprite, and the whole way there everyone was looking at us. Most people laughing at him others not sure what was going on. The picture was fabulous. A small black man in a wheelchair with shriveled legs leading an army of white missionaries into town to buy some food for him. As we went he pushed people out of the way fighting for his place in the world. I said Sipho there's no rush we are in no hurry. Blayne, a team member, and I bought him a months worth of Pap, which is a local corn meal food, cooking oil for the pap, and some soup. It came to 160 Rand which is roughly 20 bucks. We chatted some outside the store with my team and exchanged contact info and he left and we left going our separate ways. My team then walked back to our home about 2 miles away. On the way home I was flooded with emotions and they came out in tears. I wept for this man. As I tell you I'm about to start weeping now. I didn't want the team to see me crying but it was inevitable. I was so sad. The question is why. Why was I crying and what brought it on. I'll give you the reasons that I know that God blessed this little humble life with great tears of emotion; 1st I was sad, sad that for 20 dollars I bought this hungry man a months supply of food. Sad that I spent 100 dollars before I came on pair of Chacos, which I use everyday but regardless, 2nd I was broken by the situation, questioning why he was not healed when we prayed, questioning why was their hurt in this world, and just feeling guilty for being so blessed. Friends I can not tell you any other way than this. I was broken because the God of the universe used me to do his work. I was broken because I was actually doing what Jesus tells us to do in the Bible. Maybe even for the first time. "When you take care of the sick, the hungry...this you do for me (Jesus)." This is what my life is all about. This is what I'm here to do and not only does it feel good to do but it's hardcore emotionally draining to love how Jesus loved. What a savior I serve.

Sipho had left and so had the team but God knew that I needed a little comfort and he sent it by the way of Sipho being at the very spot that we left him as we walked by him headed home. This time in stead of yelling hello to us and was yelling, in his native tongue, HALLELUJAH!! HALLELUJAH!! with a huge smile on his face. I turned from across the street with tears in my eyes and waved and turned back around and walked. You couldn't help feeling a deep sense of compassion. Daniel said "you see that Page, that's Christ." Daniel then prayed for me and Sipho. It's was a glorious picture of what this Earth should be like.

Brothers and sisters as I tell you this story I pray that it touches you the way that it touched me while it was happening. The only thing that I could say really after was "God is good", God is good because among all the crap and all the hurt and all the sicknesses and diseases and brokeness and pain and sorrow there is joy and hope. Sometimes hidden in areas where you didn't think they exsisted and sometimes only for a short minute. But what is a minute for you is a lifetime for someone else. I can do nothing but praise God for his work here and Swazi and praise him for the things that he is doing now and in the future. My faith has grown and is growing and the life that I lead has changed and is changing. It's interesting to me to see how God works. It reminds me of something my pastor once said. God isn't about prevention but restoration. This is so amazingly true. I believe that that day regardless of his situation Sipho was restored back to Christ through our love. What a God we serve. I pray that you get to see how God works today in your life and situation.

Friday, June 6, 2008

Google, the Jesus of the Internet. It always has the answer

With tears running down my face I cry out to the man who created your smile, the man who decided how to make your teeth; so precious and imperfect. Why was I crying? Does that thought ever come into your mind while you're crying. You feel like you have to justify why you have snot running to town on your face (like snot could ever make it that far before you play that hide the snot game). I'm here to tell you that if God comes over you and allows you to feel the ridiculous, compassionate, flooding grace that causes you to cry out to him to stop playing snot games and cry baby cry.

I'm in Gainsville Georgia right now at training camp preparing for the biggest trip of my life. I'm not going on my honeymoon, or on the way to buy my first house, or even to close a huge Yonks deal but rather to take a trip halfway (literally) around the world to a small city in Swaziland...called...well that's one of the reasons that this trip is as big as it is. We don't know where we're going. It's between two different cities, between loving on some 326 different orphans and getting there snot where my snot is, or going to a sqatter camp with is nothing more than a ghetto of extreme poverty. This isn't just your mommas 19 century poverty either; it's real, raw, sad, and full of snot.

I didn't use to be a crybaby until God put me on the mission field. Now tears flow like a glorious wellspring of water blessed and brought on by my living God.

A thicket, a place in time. Paul's travels, Gulliver's travels, Page's travels?

That Army commercial pops into my head. 'DA DA DA. DA DA DA."If anyone ever wrote a book about your life, would anyone want to read it?" Well, someone has already wrote a book about someone else's life and it's mad legit. It's called John.

As I take myself out of the picture and start realizing I'm not important. As I start showing myself out of the book of my life I start to realize my purpose. It's possible that you think you're where you should be and you're really not. It's possible that you're trying to write the book of your life and there's nothing to put in it. It's possible that maybe you're just working on the outside cover of your book and so far it's looking awesome but the first word in the first chapter on the first page is "struggling". And you are struggling. Start living your life for Jesus and not for yourself and the cover of your book will look like Moby Dick and the contents will be something of amazement. I promise you.

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

take credit for the bliss you feel but not the pain.

in the lives of bewildered animals they seek refuge to be comfortable.
in the lives of people that can make choices we seek refuge to be comfortable

comfort is strange because since we have it so good as Americans we always expect to be comfortable. And when we aren't allowed these comforts we don't do well.

sometimes in order for me to experience what other people are going through I have to take comforts out of my life that are usually there. Like sleeping on the floor, or going without a shower for awhile. Sometimes in order to make other people experience life like people do in other countries I have to force them to ride themselves of these comforts. At first they don't like it but after they have been under my rule of law for awhile they start to get used to it.