The Adventures of Dalamo- Episode I

This is my first atempt at a comic. Hope you enjoy!

Losing Control

Crazy. Crazy. Crazy. Life is moving. The gears of time are spinning. I’m being caught up in the changes. I seem out of control, and yet, totally relaxed. Since my last blog I have realized how out of control I am. This doesn’t bother me because I know that God is working. He is driving me to my destination, even though I do not know what that place is. In Proverbs 16 it tells us that when we surrender control of our actions, God will bring our plans to reality.

Losing ontrol

A light at the end of the tunnel

Yesterday i had an great weight lifted off of my shoulders. I recieved a giant envelope from penn state university. This was the first envelope of the sort to arive at my home. I had been not so patiently awaiting the decision from penn state for some time. This school was my safty, my fail safe. So, i was ever so ancy as to see if i could reach my lowest goal. I have had nightmares of not getting in to any school, and having to accept intellectual falure in my mind. I opened the envelpe and the first word i read was CONGRADULATIONS. Now it feels like the only place to go is up, and i can see the light at the end of this first tunnel of my adult life.

Reflections in Proverbs

Proverbs 10:25 When the storm has swept by, the wicked are gone, but the righteous stand firm forever.
This passage is interesting for several reasons. For one thing it makes a reference to the story of Noah. I think that the message of this verse is rather straight forward. In the story of Noah the wicked were literally swept away by the flood. However, I think that Solomon is speaking more metaphorically. When hard times and the trials of life come how we react depends on several things: our worldview, upbringing, past experiences, etc… The wicked man does not have a strong set of morals to lean on in these hard times. He is without the help of God who is the only way to make it through the hardest of times. The wicked man is a fool and does not have the knowledge to survive when the storms of life come. However, the righteous man knows to fall on God. He knows that the cross is his only hope and that he has no power alone.
It seems that every day I have to remind myself to be like the righteous man. I don’t know if it speaks ill on my relationship with God, but every single mourning I have to make the choice of how I am going to live my day. Being righteous doesn't come naturally. I have to make a conscious effort everyday to decide to be different, and honestly, I don’t decide to everyday. I play soccer at the public school twice a week. On these days, I wake up and the first thing in my mind is how I am going to represent Christianity. It is like my conscience is screaming "You are not speaking for yourself!" On these soccer days it is easy for me to get off on the right start, but this is only twice a week. Asking for forgiveness is a continuous part of my life. Most days I just look back and say "What am I doing." In my life the storms of life are the days that I decide to be the wicked man. They leave me drained and feeling swept away. On the days I choose to serve Christ to the utmost I feel like I could go to the moon and back. I still wonder why the storms come more often then the calm.

Here is a poem for my fellow fishermen

THE BAIT.
by John Donne

COME live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines and silver hooks.

There will the river whisp'ring run
Warm'd by thy eyes, more than the sun ;
And there th' enamour'd fish will stay,
Begging themselves they may betray.

When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Will amorously to thee swim,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.

If thou, to be so seen, be'st loth,
By sun or moon, thou dark'nest both,
And if myself have leave to see,
I need not their light, having thee.

Let others freeze with angling reeds,
And cut their legs with shells and weeds,
Or treacherously poor fish beset,
With strangling snare, or windowy net.

Let coarse bold hands from slimy nest
The bedded fish in banks out-wrest ;
Or curious traitors, sleeve-silk flies,
Bewitch poor fishes' wand'ring eyes.

For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,
For thou thyself art thine own bait :
That fish, that is not catch'd thereby,
Alas ! is wiser far than I.

Friends Aren't Forever

Where would I be without my friends? They keep me honest, give advice, and urge me on to better things. That’s what true friends do.
Growing up at NCA has taught me many things. One thing I have gleaned from our little school is the importance of good relationships. Luckily I have never had to look far for good friends. They were virtually chosen for me. When you are surrounded by the same handful of people everyday for six or more years, you can’t help but form friendships.
When I look around, I don’t see friendships like ours in the adults that surround me. Do friends disappear at a certain age? It seems like all my superiors are with out the buddies that I have. Did they substitute them for a wife, family, and job? It certainly seems that way. It frightens me that the people I am so close to now will probably be gone some day. The chances are that we will grow apart and go our separate ways. Everyday I think about my friends. Everyday I think about their feelings and our relationships. It just seems daunting that one day we might have priorities that are above each other. So take a minute and think about good friends you have and good friends you have lost.