A response

   Dear Matt,

In response to the letter you sent me a month ago (see below) I have delivered your such requests for snow. I must mention however, it had nothing to do with your pleading a muling. The snow came merely when I wanted it to, and that is that. The timing is right, wouldn’t you say? People in your neck of the woods complain that they don’t get enough days off from school in the 3rd quarter. Well, I have given you a week of brutal cold and fervent snow from Monday on, giving you an extension of the weekend and essentially a 2nd Winter Break. I expect flowers, chocolates, forts, snowmen, sledding, skiing, love letters, and a holiday commemorating the great Joy I have brought you and your region.

Adamently,

Jack Frost.

Dear Winter,

Hello winter, you may have heard of me, my name is Matt Casey. I know you may be harboring some cold feelings for me still after all these years. I’m sorry that I denounced you as my favorite season 7 years ago, but it was time to move on to better seasons. I’m sorry I chose Autumn. However, Winter, you have so many great qualities to offer, none of which you are putting on the table as of now.

Where is the snow? How can I make forts, shovel, and go sledding without the snow. These are awesome past times in your time of year, and yet still you keep them away from us. I do not care for your maniacal laughter, Mr. Frost, I choose instead your chilly warmth of hot cocoa, and frozen hands. Why won’t you come to us?

You gave us a glimpse on Christmas evening, but not enough of you to make your friend Parson Brown come to life. You tease us, torment us, and give us inspiration here and there, but ultimatel crush our dreams. You’re like the captain of the cheerleading squad who gives you a smile and a wink, but never anymore. Please give in and come to us., give us a chance to embrace you.

I wanna make it right Winter. I don’t want you to feel lead on, because I’m sticking with my guns, and my guns are, well in singular sense, Autumn (Autumns?) but I nevertheless miss your presence with your bountiful and beautiful snow powdering the ground, cascading off trees, and creating an aura of happiness everywhere.

I miss you,

Matt Casey

Beckham to play in MLS!

http://soccernet.espn.go.com/news/story?id=399465&cc=5901

Not peace, but a sword

Matthew 10:34-39

“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. And a person’s enemies will be those of his own household. Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And whoever does not take his cross and follows me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”

– This really hits home with me, literally. I see it happening with Anthony and me now. My parents do not fully support my brother and his job, nor do they support my call to ministry. I can almost foresee the sword coming down, and the stand for Christ, Anthony and I will undoubtedly continue to make.

2.

It hurts me that there are strong Christians out in the world who do not fully believe in the Bible as being infallable, or perfect. What has there been to disproove the validity, and pin point accuracy of the Bible? The Bible is of God, and therefore it is true and flawless. How can men of such strong faith not believe in the Bible fully on matters not pertaining to salvation?

Are they just preaching to their fellow man, or are they preaching to the Most High? Are those that teach His Word not held to a higher accountability with the Lord than those who do not? I cannot speculate as to what their Judgement Day may be, but I pray that the Father’s forgiveness and strerness be rich.

 

I still love and respect and admire these fellow men who preach the Gospel. And I in fact, consider it a blessing to hear their teachings. Their teachings, while I may disagree on some, still allow me to strengthen my faith, and my relationship with the Lord. However, I wonder a great what if.

What if every minister/priest/preacer/evangelist/missionary, etc.. presented the Bible and its teaching with the idea that not everything in this thing is 100% historically accurate, and is fallable?

Now I know it is impossible for the Christian faith to cease to exist, but.. I would have to say that I think that the numbers of those who receive the Gospel and accept Christ would dwindle down to a much smaller number. How can you put your complete trust and faith into something that may be wrong, or can’t be completely trusted?

 

I know something as large as matters pertaining to my salvation and everlasting life are far too great to not have complete trust in it. Trust for my sometimes analytical self takes more than just feelings, but hardplace fact. The Bible is the most historical ancient text in history, with over 20 000 ancient copies made in time of circulation. Archaelogical and astronomy have proved the Bible true time and time again. And His gift to man, the Bible has the power to take you deep with short stuff, and hit quick with long stuff. It’s harmonious, perfectly wound, and magnificent in wording, and colossal in its effect to the rejuvenation of my life and daily living. And of course no rejuvenation would take place without the life of the Holy Spirt breathed through my nostrils to the heart and soul of my being from Christ. He makes all things possible, and His being alive, in-turn, makes me alive.

Back in the swing

Now that my broken foot is no longer broken I can get back into the saddle again. It’s been quite awhile since I have last exercised before the previous Tuesday. I’ve put on 7 pounds as a result, thanks to Thanksgiving and Christmas, and I look to get tone and fit again. The worst part about all of it was being so restless when going to bed, and being up much later than I would have liked. It threw my schedule out of wack, and when I wasn’t taking vicodin, I wasn’t sleeping, I simply had too much energy.

Running is a most beautiful thing. It is my favorite form of exercise, and I not only use it to stay fit, but to process things through my mind. It’s on my run that I think of jokes, converse with the Lord, think of friends, and search myself. It’s psychological, spiritual, and physical. Hopefully always rigorous and exhausting. Steve Prefontaine, the greatest distance runner in American history has said that a runner who knows no limit to his physical realm will be most successfull in the runs ahead. While I may not be at that point in my life now, I know to blank out the perceived limit and then think about nothing at all so I can push myself to the next level of the run. The 3rd wind if you will.

Truthfully, it’s something I learned at Jordan Camp. The 1 week of hell I endured my freshman year for wrestling. I thought I knew what my limit was there, but the truth was, I had no idea what it was. A mental toughness has been built up over the years to endure extreme levels of excruciating pain while running. Which is funny, because my pain tolerance in everyday life is not so much the same. If I get a paper cut I freak out, and if I jam a finger I do more than my fair share of wincing.

My life in itself is a paradox in so many reflections. A few of which can be expressed solemnly.  I love to run, but hate to lift weights. I enjoy tv, but hate to sit still. I like speed but deteste roller coasters. Paradoxes, everyone, scattered throughout my insides. Who doesn’t experience these things? Can you think of some paradoxes inside yourself? Pretty perplexing, is it not? It’s what makes us quirky, it’s part of what makes us human, male and female. Phenominal, and fascinating, wonderfully complex, and intricate beyond the woven lace within us.

Without any desire to have a good transition sentence, I drift back to running.

It’s peaceful and serene. My heart pumps steady and hard matching the ferocity in which my legs drive. I cannot run like a gazelle or a cheetah, but I can utilize these two legs, and push on in my run as a metaphor for life. To be fit, bring praise to God, and try to keep my body healthy and as a temple to his gain, and not my own. Hopefully the only loss will be those 7 pounds. Haha, and for a goodbye, I say happy new year! I am sorry I didn’t do that earlier!

Push your limits, not only physically, but everywhere else too. So many human beings have no idea what tests and “limits” they can excel in and acheive. They need only try.