2 dimensionality and it's relationship to politics

For those of you who have read "A Wrinkle In Time" you know there is a point in the book where the characters accidentally end up in a two dimensional world. The interesting thing about this is how we, as three dimensional creatures in a three dimensional world, percieve two dimensions. We tend to pick up a peice of paper when trying to demonstrate two dimensions, because that's as close as we can come. However, even paper is not truly two dimensional, as it still operates in three dimensions. Something that is two dimensional will not "turn sideways and dissapear", rather, it can't even turn sideways!
In three dimensions we can move side to side, front to back, and up to down. A two dimensional object would go just as crazy trying to comprehend 3d as we would by adding a fourth dimension to our world. This brings me to politics...
Politicians are always trying to make us laypeople understand the 4th dimension, or as they call it "the platform". It's all a matter of teaching us to see things from their point of view. The problem is, while we have no problem understanding how two or four dimensions work, we can't actually operate in them. Reducing federal debt sounds great in 2D (on paper), but how often does it manage to operate in 3D (real life!)? In the interest of the United States of America, next time you're listening to a politian preaching his 2D plans to make a 4D accomplishment, ask yourself if it will work in 3D.

Love you all,
Korin

Forgive and Forget?

Forgive and forget rolls off the tonngue so easily, but how accurate is it really? Must you forget in order to forgive, and can you forget without forgiving?
I think it's quite possible to forget without forgiving. Years later something could remind you of an incident, and your mind would awaken to find you still hold a grudge. Forgetting is more a slip of the mind than any actaul progress in the emotional department.
I'm sure it's possible to forgive without forgetting but things probably dissapear from memory when there is no longer a reason to remember. I'm not sure I resolved this in my mind by even writing this post.
My conclusion is that you have to forgive to really forget, but might not forget upon forgiving.

For Josh and Anna

My friend Josh and his girlfriend Anna had to endure something this last Thursday that nobody should go through. Unfortunately it did happen to them and I feel quite helpless here not even able to say how sorry I am, so this poem is dedicated to them. Josh and Anna, this is for you, I will keep you in my prayers.

For Josh and Anna
~
I usually keep my heart locked up
I’m usually cold as stone.
But your pain is bleeding over
It cuts me to the bone.
~But I can’t cry your tears for you
~And I couldn’t stop this blight.
I wish that I could hug you
Tell you its all okay.
But after what you’ve been through
There’s nothing I could say.
~But I can’t cry your tears for you
~And I can’t fight this fight.
Where does this pain end?
Just how can this be?
Why can’t I heal you?
What if it happened to me?
~But I can only cry my tears for you
~And wait here in His light.

Love,

Korin

Cain's wife

Where did Cain get his wife?

~

This question was posed at my Bible Study last night. I had never really thought about it before, but if Cain didn't marry his sister, then where did his wife come from? If you know the story of Cain you can skip to the next paragraph, or you can stay the course for a quick recap. After Cain murdered his brother Abel he was marked by God. God decreed that no man could harm Cain and that he was banished to wander far from his homeland. We don't know how long he wandered, but we do know that somewhere he obtained a wife.

Being banished makes it very unlikely that Cain married one of his many sisters. So my Bible Study group proposed and dissected a few theories to explain the presence of other humans. I will present them below by number.

1. Adam and Eve (Cain's parents) are recorded as being the first man and woman, all the preceeding creatures were animals. This created an interesting and controversial idea that maybe they were the first man and woman to have souls or a relationship with God. So many things in the Bible are metaphor that Adam and Eve could be the first man and woman just by having souls, not that they were the first Homo Sapiens.

2. God may have continued creating after he finished with Adam and Eve. God did rest on the 7th day but he could have resumed some minor creating after his nap. Other races of people may have been created outside of the Garden of Eden. After all, people are a very diverse group, we come in all colors, sizes, and tongues.

3. Adam and Eve lived to be quite old, some of thier children probably already had children and grandchildren of their own by the time Cain found his wife. These families could have wandered away from thier original home near Eden to form other groups of people from which Cain may have chosen a wife.

So what do you think? Do you have any idea where Cain may have found a wife? Leave me a comment, even if it's really long, telling me what you think of thiese ideas or your own theory.

Love,

~Korin

fruit (or vegetable) of the spirit

Fruit (or Vegetable) of the Spirit

I have 3 friends who are sisters and, due to their unique way of speaking, often say things that lead me into profound thought. They were over at my house the other day when such an instance occured.
My house always has a slightly pathetic garden coloring the yard out front in the summer. Unfortunately, this garden has a habit of mass-producing tomatoes and peppers beyond what any family could desire to consume. This results in a frenzy of asking everyone who comes near if they would like some tomatoes (I'm getting to the profound bit, I swear). So, of course, I offered to let my friends take some tomatoes home with them.
That's when one said "Look at them on the vine, all sad and dying. Sad and dying with nobody to pick them." That's when it struck me, what if my Christian walk is kind of like that, I'm leaving the fruit out to rot instead of gathering it. God said that we should bear fruit if we are faithful and following the Great Commission. I think that often we view this as a challenge, that people will come to Christ if we convince them and work hard enough. But maybe that's not the way it's supposed to be!
Instead of conversions being a result of our work, what if all we have to do is harvest the fruit? We can't convince somebody to become a Christian through our own efforts, any more than we can create a butterfly through sheer will-power. So while we focus on our own accomplishments and seek to complete the Great Commission without God's help, the fruit is dying sad and alone on the vine.
"Be fishers of men" he said. Fishers gather, they don't create. The fruit we are after isn't tomatoes or fish, it's people. They live and breathe, their hearts beat like ours, and then they die. Sad and Alone. Neglected on the vine. All because I tried to force them into slavery instead of just picking those that are ready. Don't let the fruit die sadly on the vine, waiting for somebody to pick it. I urge my readers as I urge myself, to gather those that are ready to accept Christ, don't force them, and don't give up on those that aren't ready yet.

Wondering

At times I wonder what God thinks as he looks down at us, running around like millions of silly frantic little lemmings or somesuch. I was having a particularly productive train of thoughts along those lines today... so here are some of my musings.

I was watching TV and there was a preview for a mini-series about the greatest threats to Earth. So what happens if, let's say, a giant meteor strikes the Earth and kills everything, does that mean it was an accident or His plan? Does he look down and go "Damn. Forgot about that meteor... I have to start all over now!"

At my church we always sign this little book at the end of the pews so there's an account of how many people attended the service. I wonder if God approves of us signing in something resembling the Black Book of Death?

God struck down the Tower of Babel because the people were trying to reach the heavens. What does he think of window washers for city skyscrapers then? Or even airplane pilots?

So that's the end of my ramblings... Do any of you have a musing about what God sees when he looks down?

Korin

Poet's Day

This post was originally done on August 21, which is Poet's Day, but due to some technical difficulties I'm reposting it today.

In honor of today (August 21) being Poet's Day I have decided to post two poems by me.

Butterflies and Demons

Shadow Bright,

Star's darkest night

Where were you

When I hid tonight?

Shuddering from the beauties

Of a daydream's horror

In darkest fright.

Premonition...

Foreshadowing...

Sixth Sense...

Call it what you will,

You'll never know it.

Gliding on the fringes

Of all floating twighlight hours.

Sometimes flutter

Sometimes scream

Butterflies and Demons-

In my dreams.

Gliding by

On beautiful wings

To rip and tear

My peaceful scene

Butterflies and Demons

In my dreams.

Soulbreak Cry

Were it the spans of the Heavens,

Or the depths of the Sea.

Twas never so wide,

As the Space formed by me.

i cry out in my prison.

i see Your hand in the sun.

Oh My God, My God!

What have i done?

Pulled into glass peices,

Now where can i go?

Fettered in by my sin,

i scream, You say no.

One way to change this,

Sad power of Blood.

Clawing for surface,

i see where i stood.

You do now accept me,

i am bowed at your throne.

i screamed to Your Mercy,

No longer Alone.

Korin

The Love of Books

The Love of Books

"So many books, yet so little time." "Books. Cats. Life is Good." "There's no such thing... As too many books..." "Biblioholism- books, of books: the habitiual longing to purchase, read, store, admire, and consume books in excess."
I love books. I enjoy reading them of course, but there is a difference in loving books and loving to read them. I happen to love books. The way the pages rustle when you pick up a paperback, the smooth feel of an embossed hardback. The smudges and yellow spots in old books that make them look loved and well-used. Or the way the spine crackles when you open up a new book, and you know you are the first to read it. When old books open up in your hands to the most dramatic or romantic chapter, and you know that many other people have loved this book too. The gilt lined pages of an antique leatherbound book that glitters when you turn it. I love the smell of paper and ink in libraries, or the old musty and woody smell of a curious little bookshop on a corner street.
Books are amazing things, they spread ideas and emotions, facts and fantasy. The earliest civilizations tried to communicate these things through pictographs, and in a way the pictures spoke so much more than simple words ever can. We have progressed from pictographs to tablets, tablets to scrolls, scrolls to books, there have even been bizarre ways of communicating with knots in colored strings. Human beings innately have a desire to share their insights, and the knowledge that information needs to be spread.
I have a favorite bookshop too, the kind you read about only in stories. It goes by the quaint name of Caveat's Antique and Rare Books, and resides in Bloomington. You walk in and are immediately struck by the paper, ancient yellowed pieces intermingled with newer peices cover every wall, doorframe, and bookshelf. Upon closer examination you find that these papers are all quotes by famous people and thoughtful cartoons cut from newspapers. This place smells of musty paper and pipe smoke and knowledge. A single old man always sits in the cubby-hole to the right of the entrance, reading the news and fiddling with a pipe, he is the perfect picture of the secretive librarian that turns out to have the answers to everything. If you walk straght ahead there are five little rooms with a different subject contained in each one on old leaning shelves, in cardboard boxes, and neat stacks, each room also contains an old uncomfortable office chair. If you were to go left instead of ahead upon entering, you would be in a long aisle full of boxes and poetry books, and the best part of all, there is a library ladder. You know the type, they have wheels on the bottom and a track along the top of the shelf. I could stay in this place forever, but I know I must leave so as not to wear out the charm.

In closing, if you have a favorite book or bookshop, I want to hear about it! Leave me a comment please!

Korin

Homosexuality

Homosexuality

So where do I draw the line? I'm a professing and acting Christian, my faith is a part of my life. But the problem is that I'm a strong believer of "Hate the sin but Love the sinner", and this puts me into an awkward postion of how to act and what to believe of my gay friends. I can't just outright say "you're a sinner!", this approach tends to anger people and doesn't accomplish anything. Yet if I'm to believe everything in the Bible, they are living in sin. But is it a choice? Talking to one of my friends has led me to believe that homosexuality is not a choice, but rather something inborn. In a way this agrees with scripture from Romans 1:26-27, "Because of this, God gave them over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural relations for unnatural ones. In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed indecent acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their perversion."
So if our sinful worldly lifestyle is the cause, what is the 'cure'? Is there such a thing as a 'cure'? I don't know any former homosexuals converted by Christianity so I can't really speak on this part. But are my anger issues any more or less sinful that homosexuality? God views all sins as the same, and I work on my anger but have not been 'cured' of it. Perhaps it is the effort and the acknowledgement of the sin that counts on judgement day, let us hope so, for if it is not then we are all condemned to eternal death. For my part I will continue to love everyone for who they are and let God handle the internal issues.

Korin

What does it mean to be a Christian?

What does it mean to be a Christian?

All my life I've been told that being a follower of Christ is the most important mission of my existance. But it always comes from people who don't seem to believe the words of their own mouth. In the dark hours of the night, when it's just you and an unseen presence, what do you really believe? I believe my faith is my life, it's why I'm alive.... But I often doubt that I'm doing everything right. How do I know? Am I doing everything right when I feel good about what I'm doing, or is it the other times? The times like these...

When you cradle your soul but it melts through your fingers and shatters at His feet like thousands of glass rain-drops. And part of you wants to scream and cry because it hurts and you know He can see everything, but part of you is too in awe and filled with joy to even breathe. When He reaches down and picks up all those thousands of pieces and melds them back together. Something miraculous happens then, so small you don't know if you've even seen it, the image burns in the back your mind that one of those black peices of glass is now clear and bright. It hits you with a sense of awe, that one peice is now pure, but at the same time you mourn for it. There was a strange beauty about the dull black shine of those peices and you know what was removed for the sake of purity is something of this world's views lost forever, you can never be the same. In these times, when the pain and beauty is too great to comprehend, then everything feels right. And I think, maybe, that this is when I'm accomplishing my life's mission. I'm only one, on this one planet chosen from the great expanxe of the universe, but somehow my actions make all the difference somewhere.

Korin

Welcome to my garden

Welcome to My Garden

You may have had the sanity to wonder why my blog is titled "Rose Garden under the Full Moon"... or maybe you didn't. If you came here to find out what makes up the unphysical bit that I call me, then read on, if you are here to read the juicy tidbits and political opinions of my life, this is not the place to come. Will you take a moment to walk in my garden?

Dead leaves and night creatures make soft rustling noises as you walk, the almost imperceptible squeal of a bat can be heard overhead. Cold soft white light falls from the moon, the light always seems to be marked "for you eyes only" when the moon is full. A slight breeze stirs just the tips of the hairs on your skin and seems to whisper long forgotten secrets. Roses are such beautiful flowers, even half closed in the dark... red is one of the few hues that is still distinguishible under the moon. You reach for a rose, then remember the thorns and grasp the bud carefully... You know if you make a careless move the thorns will draw blood. Tucking the rose-bud into your shirt color, turn and slip toward the ominous iron gate. The gate is ancient and secretive, but well oiled, open it just far enough to slide through and exit. I hope you will return...

Korin