splattered thoughts: curious but timely

So it seems like its been so long since I've splattered my thoughts over the Internet for the world to see. Why the heck is that? Even now, as I type, I'm semi-nervous, like when you're hanging out with old friends and the first five minutes or so are always awkward; then things are just as they always were.

OK, I'm good now. God really has put many many things on my heart over these last few weeks. First, there was Long Hollow camp, where for the majority of the week I couldn't get out of this stupid Raleigh-has-got-to-have-a-major-spiritual-encounter-because-its-camp-and-everybody-does rut, until God powerfully used my little brother Alex Aust to wake me up.

As soon as I got back from camp--the VERY MINUTE--I was smothered with 27 billion unread text messages and a thousand unchecked voicemails. Oh the bliss of laying down on my 1-inch thick mattress every night for a week without having to look over and and check my messages one last time or having to type out a crap 'goodnight' text to a girl who I desperately want to like me! I was immediately sucked back in. This past month, despite being without a phone for a WEEK at camp, I paid $150 for going over on my phone minutes. I say this not to confirm that I am popular after all but to point out another of the ridiculous lies Satan has thrown our way. Oh if I could but just throw my effin cell phone out the window...

One of my friends (was it at camp? was it since I returned home? i can't remember...) described this image to me: he sees in his mind the image of a man sitting in a chair, under the guise of relaxation. Really, as you take a closer look, you'll notice his fingers and toes are not really fingers and toes but cords, wires that run all about the room, finding their way into sockets in the wall, into the backs of computers, to lights, to TVs, to iPods, to cell phones. These appliances no longer feed on electricity, but on us. They drain us of any real opportunity to experience wind, beauty, and conversation. With others, with ourselves, with God.

This kind of just came to me, but anyone who's reading this who wants to join me, I'm turning my cell phone off for a week. Just to see what happens. Who wants to join?

All of that was said to say this: before I even had a chance to sport my XL camp T-shirt after it was shrunk in the washer, the Internet and my blinking text message alert had all but sunk any opportunity for a decent 'quiet time.'

So I was as pumped as ever to get to go to Northern Georgia or wherever the heck it was that G. Baines led us to. Let's not say that. Wherever it was that we CHASED the fleeing G. Baines to. That happened to be a wonderful place with a lake and wooden bear statues nestled between the hills of the Blue Mountains (I may have just made that up). Ah! God had me right where he wanted me again! No cell service!

The first morning, as I gazed out over the misty lake and up above the treetops to the infinite gray sky, I started to wonder if I really 'got it.' I mean I know that I have more to learn, that I still have maturing to do, experiences to live; but after thinking about the t-shirts printed that read "What's it all about?" on the front and "Nathan knew! Let's finish what he started!" I seriously thought that I did know what it was all about. But what if I don't know? What if Nathan didn't know? What if the teachers and principals at our Christian schools don't know? What if your church's pastor and my church's pastor and your parents don't know? Itt is a more of a reality than you think it is.

I began to pray that God would reveal to me, that he would SHOW me that my thoughts were not in vain and that there was something more, something deeper and more meaningful than going to church because thats what Christians do and not drinking because, well, drinking's what sinners do and sleepwalking through chapel and Bible every day because what kind of Christian SHOULDN'T be stoked for a 30-minute devo talk every day?!?! God began to show me that it was not about me. At all. I know its simple and overstated. But we don't believe it. Nobody does. We say we do. We don't.

I suppose there's no way to say this without sounding arrogant and prdeful either, but I don't think it matters. During our 'share time,' a lot of the time was spent listening to 'convicted' hearts make hollow vows to 'tell some people about God' or 'start reading the Bible' or to 'stop cussing.' While spiritual discipline is certainly key to maintaining a strong working relationship with Christ (obviously time in the Word is key), this seems so to be such a blatant oversight of what it REALLY is about. Christ and his curious but timely (does that word do it ANY justice?) and amazing death on the cross is to be passionately adored and longed for and wondered about, engulfing our lives until everyday we abandon our own EVERYTHING simply to glorify Christ. Think you'll tell people about Christ if you feel THIS way about him? I bet you'll search the Scriptures like a wild man, too. And it is weird (and supernatural) how God will tame even the wildest tongue if that person is 100% committed to Christ, not to stop from saying 'ass.'

more thoughts to come...oh boy its late.