A Song of Hope

Can we sing a song of hope?
Will His people pray?
Will the politicians step down?
Will the people of the King decide to raise?

The angels raise their voices
The people dance in the streets
The sun shines its golden rays among the childrens feet
It's hope

The drums will sound
The heavens rejoice
The praises will echo through the voice
It's hope

A time when nations will fall
A time when the souls will rise
Evil will fall, evil it will die
It's hope

Rise up his people
Arise from your graves
Now we live in His days
Now we live in His hope

Sing the song of love
Sing the song of joy
Sing the song of praise
Sing the song of hope
--------------------------------------------------

Not really sure where that came from. Perhaps from church, perhaps from the song "Song of Hope". I think part of it comes from being tired, from being at unease, in a constant sense of stress. Not so much at my own life, at least not the future, or the bills, or the jobs...more along the Church. I sat through a service today where a man talked more about the 400 years of Baptist history then he did about scripture, last weekend I was attacked by my aunt about how the President is a muslim and will doom us all...mind you, she also informed me that she never gossips, let alone gossips in church. I walked 4 long years through the halls of academia, of a "Christ-centered, caring, academic community...", I had to remember that for the quiz in my next class, as I walked over the spirital bodies of my brothers and sisters who had killed each other in their own civil war of trying to debate whether God could make a mountain so big that He couldn't move. I hear the horror stories of being a waitress on Sunday's, and hating the fact that you get "Christian" tables and you instantly knew...you weren't going to get a tip.
Jeremy Camp always asks, "What if His people prayed?"...I ask..."What if His people cared?". We're stuck in the concept of it's a battle against one another, who is right, who is wrong, who's going to kill who, and who has the bigger bomb. No one even realize that we, the Christians, the "good guys", are getting the life beaten out of us by each other. Why? Sure, God protects His bride, but we don't...we get so wrapped up in the worldy items, the news, the politics, we don't believe in hope...buildings blow up and we're amused. We are a sick species. Humanity can't save itself, face the facts, we are our own worst enemies.
Who's going to save us? Anyone? Anyone want to stand up? That's what I thought, you're too afraid of what others will think of you that you choose not to rise.
Here is my callout, here is my challenge. Where are our leaders? Don't go political...I could care less, and I have a degree in it...where are the Christian leaders? Where are the ones saying, "Don't follow me, follow Him?" Who said the people like Paul were done in Paul's time?
Us Christians, we sit around, twiddling our thumbs, obsessed with the end of the world, and when Christ will come. Sure, we'll acknowledge that people are dying in other countries, and we pray for the missionaries in other countries, and we count our blessings that we're not like the other countries...but we flip off the driver in front of us, we get mad at the person on their cell phone in front of us at Starbucks, we tell our kids they're not good enough if they can't score two touchdowns in one game at the age of six.
People hate this little message, people will come after me, and that's fine. I'll step up to the mic:
"Hi, my name is Shawn. I'm a thief, a liar, a murder, a hater, a hopeless sinner, a flaw, a fluke, a mess up, screw ball, I've ran away, I got a ticket, I skipped church, I didn't give money to the church. I made fun of the Methodist, Catholics, and every other sect of Christians out there. I cheated in high school and in college. I don't deserve grace, I don't deserve hope, I don't deserve love...I can't even show it to my own parents. I curse, I have flipped off someone on the highway. I've stolen a street sign or two. I've sped down a highway and wasn't caught. I ate too much, spent to much, didn't love, but I lusted, I've pushed the limits, I've tried my luck...I don't deserve what God has to offer, but He gave it all and that's why I can say that to you today."
...so....
Who's next?

Hobbies

As I've grown older...that not saying a whole lot, I've come to realize two things:
A. Many people around me get lost in at least one hobby of theirs
B. I do not have a hobby

I blame school, I blame being in some sort of educational institution for the past 18 years of my life. You spend so much of it studying, reading, writing about things you could frankly care less about, but your teachers, educators, and professors are dying to read. Ok, actually, they don't really care either, but your achievement at their assignment is money in their pockets. Regardless, you spend so much time taking in all the junk that you don't care about, that you forget to love the things you were born with the desire to enjoy.

A few friends of mine, as they too have gotten older really have blossomed into their talents, their hobbies.

A few of my favorites so far:

Michelle Anderson-started off from a town next to my hometown, played basketball, 6'2, went to college, played ball...and now? She's a model: Her Facebook Page

Atley Black-started off from another town close to my hometown, loved music, sang in church, rocked the guitar, moved to Australia, got married...and now? You tell me: Her MySpace Page

It's pretty fascinating, even my fiance's father, though he is a CPA, and a music minister, his songwriting/singing/piano playing ability is beyond this world. I've already got a hold of his first album...amazing. It's a hobby, it's something he enjoys.

I think that is why Ken and I work so well together, here we are...she's 21 and I'm 22, and both of us, we don't know what we're "good at", sure others have gave us their two cents (thanks ya'll), but we don't know personally. I mean I think she's got the voice of an angel, really I do, but she doesn't work on it too much, that's what happens when you go to college [see above paragraph ranting]. We're still working on it. It feels like I bounce around every day.
Monday: I could be writing a poem

Tuesday: Writing a short story

Wednesday: Making a computer desk

Thursday: Playing the flute

Friday: Taking photos of everything

Perhaps it isn't so bad not to have a hobby. Ken tells me that I need one to cut down on the fact that I am constantly stressed out, I inform her that hobbies are nothing more then an excuse for us to spend money on things we don't need, but we want. Yes, I'm a border-line tightwad (I do have my foo-foo coffee every now and then). It is true, if you heard through the grapevine that a few months ago, after leaving college, I did take nearly 500 dollars and I did purchase a very, very nice camera. Most of the time I've just wanted to have something to capture memories with, it seems that everyone around me never uses their cameras. It was sickening, so finally, I went out and got my own camera. Understand though, I don't take photos for a living, I don't rock the world, or show off my flair, or anything. I just click the button that's all I've got to do.

My good friend, Sam, he's an engineer major which means he already gave up the opportunity to have a life. Regardless though, even he has a hobby; guitars. He has six guitars recently. A few are electric, and a few are not. In high school he took lessons, and since, honestly...he's one of the most amazing guitarists I've ever heard.

I think part of the reason that I don't have a hobby is because I don't want to take the time, nor place the money into something that is going to better me in the end. What decreases stress for me? Fly fishing, trout fishing, traveling, getting away from a city, getting lost in a corn field, lying on the bank of the river counting stars, falling asleep in the arms of the one you love. I'm 6'5, and nearly 250 lbs, but nothing is more comfortable then waking up from a nap and knowing that I've fallen asleep on Ken and she just sits there staring at me with a giant smile. That takes away stress.
Maybe Ken is a hobby? No, that's just stupid. She's more then that, she's perfect, she's an angel, she's evidence that I am the luckiest man in the world.

I'm sitting in my parents house while I write this, I see two deer heads, a gun cabinet...full. Some random chairs and old pieces of wood furniture from when my mother was a child, and it just dwans on my that part of the reason I don't have hobbies is because I can't bring myself to hold onto so much junk. That's why I love photos, especially digital photos. You can take them with you, my new iPod that I broke down and purchased, it can hold photos on it. Pretty fun. Everything else though, I don't need it, I'm sure to an extent I don't need the digital photos, or the electronics...oh wait...I'm an American.

I'll keep searching, looking for a hobby. I'll be traveling to Oklahoma this weekend for a wedding, and hopefully a tennis match. That will give me some time to figure out a hobby. Until then...

I'll let you see some of what I've been doing with my camera.

Dating...what if...Part II

...the rotating blue and red lights continued to just push a every-so-throbbing headache deeper into my skull. His flashlight going from eye to eye made me want to puke, we won't even discuss the problem with walking.
I had made it into town, barely, but the swirving I unknowingly did cost me, big. The officer got me just into town, right past the nursing home, he loves sitting there, waiting, stooping, for the poor suckers like me who wanted to be cool for one night.
I got home, my parents were awakened by the officer, needless to say...disappointment couldn't even describe the look on their sickened faces.
"It's alright, we'll take him from here, thank you.", my mother said, and shut the door.
The lights got turned on, the yelling began, and it ended with me walking to my bedroom, slamming the door, and I think I got to the bed.
In the morning I awoke near the toilet, I had no idea why I was there until I attempted to stand. Then it all came rushing back.
"You're grounded, no driving, no extra-curricular activities! You're done, what were you thinking!?!?", the loud voices stirred in my head. I just laid back down on the floor.
It felt like hours had rushed by until one of my parents tried to open the door and hit my foot.
It was mom.
"Get up", she said sharply.
I got up, and started to walk away.
"Oh no, we're not done, start cleaning the bathroom, after that, you've got the house, the dishes, your bedroom, got any homework? That's next, in the kitchen, away from the computer, give me your cell phone. You're lucky to be alive.", and with that, she was gone. Witches have a tendency to do that, swoop in, make your life awful, and then gone before you know it.
The next few days were a blur, wake up, eat, shower, clean, homework, eat, bed...over and over and over, it was a long weekend. Not too often can I say that I was looking forward to school on Monday.
School starts at 8:30, that feeling of wanting to be there was over by 8:35.
"Dude, heard you got busted!", the druggy said to me.
"Way to go! You rebel.", the future hooker hissed at me.
My friends ignored me, my teachers turned their backs, practice was...ungodly painful.
"One of you decided to have some fun this weekend, and got caught! We're going to run the booze out of you!", and we ran...and ran...and ran.
No one, I had no one, and sadly I had no one to blame, but myself...well...that and...her.
Two nights later I got a knocking at my door, it was Rachel.
"Hey stud! How are you doing tonight?"
"Fine", was all I could mutter out of my mouth.
"What's wrong? You seem upset,", she asked as she placed her tan, slender arms around my shoulders an neck.
"You did this. You brought me into this mess, you corrupted me, caused me to get into these problems! You did it! It's your fault!" I could feel my face getting redder, and redder with rage and anger.
"Isn't this what you wanted?", she said in a monotone voice, "You wanted the girl, you wanted the popularity, you wanted the life that everyone else had, and you got it. Aren't you pleased with your life?"
"No! This isn't what I wanted. I thought I wanted you, but I realize I don't, you'll just continue to ruin my life, I'll continue to make bad choices...you are my bad choice."
"Shawn, be thankful this isn't reality.", Rachel said. "You've got a wonderful life, you got exactly what you need, and you're surrounded by those who love you. This is not the reality you truly want. You want what is real, you desire true love, not some false person who is nothing more then an empty shell. Goodbye Shawn, and good luck."
As with any cliche moments from stupid movies, the mist came in, the body left, and I was left standing there, staring. The world started spinning, the walls of the house fell in, I laid down on the ground, unknowing of what was taking place.

"Shawn...Shawn...Shawn, sweetie, it's time to get up sweetheart. Don't grumble, we don't like grumblers. Sleepy little thing."
I opened my eyes and realized the stupid fact, I trapped myself into a dream of wondering what life could of been like. I sat up, and looked her in the eyes and asked myself, "What if she wasn't in my life?"

Dating...what if...Part I

Before going on with this story...allow me to say this:


I am happily engaged to the love of my life, she is perfect in every way. That is worth saying over and over...however, with time ticking by and life passing us by allow us to continue down the page, and through the past, asking, "what if", humoring the future of the unknown and the dimensions that will never come within our reaches.......
***********************************

The moment was right, the time had come, she looked at me across the court. Obviously I turned to the sides wondering who exactly she was looking at. I slowly came to realize that there on the bench I sat...alone.
My mother, a woman of unknown widsom looked and me and said, "Trust me, this is a mothers instinct, that young lady likes you. You should go visit her."
Thinking that times had changed, and those of the opposite sex would no longer flee from me, I took my chances and started to walk over to where she sat.
As I started my journey, a few peers of mine stepped inbetween us and asked, "What are you doing?" After explaining my theory, and my hopes, they said, "She's from a good school, at least she is not white trash", and they went on their way.
My knees began to shake as I struggled to find the message in my brain to send my vocal box. I moved closer, still no words, and then out of no where.
"Hi! I'm Shawn!", I nearly yelled in front of the poor girl. Her friends giggled to themselves as she slightly blushed.
"Hi, my name is Rachel", the girl said quietly. She stood to shook my hand. It was quite the sight, there I stood at age 16, 6'4, and there she stood, age 15, 6'2. She was tall, slender, and sweet as my mothers apple pie. As our hands interlocked, a spark was felt in my heart, as her eyes gazed into mine.
"I have no idea why I'm over here...", were the next words that were muttered from my awkward adolesent mouth.
"You came to greet us." She responded, laughing to herself.
"It was a pleasure.", I said and started my way back down towards my team.
A few days would pass by, we had met at a holiday basketball tournament in the closest city to our small towns. Her team, as my own, made it to the championship game, and that Saturday I got to see her again.
"Good luck today", I managed to get out of my mouth, I had rehearsed it several times before getting off the bus.
"Thanks!", she said and trotted off, ponytail waving with each step she took.
Understand though, there was a significant difference between her and myself: she played basketball, I sat the bench during basketball.
Her team would go on to win the tournament, as our would also that night.
A few weeks later I took the dare of my life...
Our schools were the same size, and we were in the same "conference" of schools that enjoyed beating the tar our of each other. It was her schools turn to come over and play my school. After the games, (come on I was awe-struck by her, I didn't pay attention to the outcome), I went up to her as she started to board the bus.
"Hey, great game. Listen...I was wondering...eh...we've got a dance coming up here in a few weeks. I'm not in the need of a date, but I would like some company, would you be interested in enjoying a entertaining evening back here, just without court clothes on?"
The poor girl just stood there...standing...thinking...looking at friends for answers...and finally.
"Yeah, ok, got your cell phone? Here's my number. Call me about details.", and that was it.
A few weeks passed and the date came, she walked up the house, looking very "trendy", and ready for a good evening.
We went to the dance, and that's where I started to note certain things.
She enjoyed dancing, just not the slow dancing, it was almost as if she was designed for a club. I should seen this, and thought, "Ok, maybe I should think this out." Oh but I was in the moment! It was love! Surely she was the one! I attempted to dance with her, and failed, I'm just...not dancing material.
The night came to an end and as I walked her to her car she said, "I had a lot of fun tonight, thanks for inviting me." And with that she kissed my cheek and headed off.
If there is one thing to learn from this, when a kiss takes place in high school, no high school boy is able to resist the temptation of what lies ahead. Some of us got to learn that the hard way.
We began officially dating a month later, she turned 16 and was "up for parole" from her parents, she said. Her family was sweet, nice people, and I thought the world of them.
We would talk for hours there, about the world, sports, politics, and dreams for hours at a time.
Rachel and I though, we talked about life, but the one subject we never talked about was faith.
God wasn't a hot topic with her, as He was with me, it was part of my nature, part of my identity. Not so much with her, but at age 16...I'm greater then St. Patrick, I can convert anyone.
Remember how you learned in First Aid class that a panicking individual who is drowning can drown a full grown man? Faith is no different, we attempt to brings those who have gone astray closer, but we find ourselves drifting away in the process.
We had been dating for three months, she invited me to my first party. I was...excited, I got to hang out with people, drink beer! Be a rebel, and dance and who knows what else...

I got there, it was ok, people were strung out everywhere, just trashed. Drunk people inside the two story brick house, outside in the yard, "attempting" to swim in the pool. The house had a strong odor of...yeast (as you can tell, I was never a party person, family didn't drink, etc...), Rachel was having a blast, running around, beer in one hand, other hand in mine, showing me this person, and that person.
"This is Troy, that is Mike, that's Rebecca and Sarah, don't look to close at them, their boyfriends are over there playing beer pong."
The music was loud, the bodies were sweaty, and I...I felt out of place. I made my way to the door, and stepped out.
"Where are you going?", Rachel asked.
"I'm just getting some air, it's hot in there, loud, just not used to it."
"You need a drink Shawn. Here.", and she handed me my first beer.
It was awful to even try to drink. I instantly spit it up.
"It's ok, it takes a few before you get used to it.", said Rachel inbetween laughs.
I was not...NOT going to be outdone by a girl, so I sucked it up and just went at it, tearing through every can I got ahold of.
One down...two down...three down...my stomach feels hot...four down...
I made it to six before things started to change. Rachel guided me to my car, "Ok, you're fine, you just need to go sleep it off, you'll be fine, just go home and rest. You're awesome." She kissed me and shut the door.

In my car, part of me had no idea what was going on, part of me thought, "I can do this", I think about every other 16 year old who thought, "I can do this", when I drive past a memorial cross on the side of the road....

Frustrations

Life can be frustrating, so I've come to learn.

Like how many people don't want to hear my problems (people wonder why I don't really care)

Like how people expect me to do everything (ever wonder why I won't work for you if you call me)

Like how people tell me I'm smart, but I won't believe it (you wouldn't either if it just got you into arguments constantly)

Like how my parents get upset because I won't talk to them about my life (it happens when your discussions lead to nothing but arguments)

Like how I'm constantly stressed (but there isn't anything to help)

Life can be frustrating

It can be a nailbiting experience. One where you wake up with stomachache because of nerves, only to go to bed shaking because you don't know how tomorrow is going to pan out. Lately life has been a little frustrating.

I'm have a type A personality, that means I like to take charge, I like to lead, I like to be organized, and I don't like to not panic if things are not in their place. I recently got engaged, we now know who has the dominate type A personality, me. Here I am, the male, the man who is getting married, and I'm the one freaking out that we don't have a photographer, or a place for the reception (the wedding is in June by the way, anyone who reads this is invited), and my lovely fiance is stressed also, but with school, since she's still in school. It's chaos, nothing but stress, I don't have a full time job, I don't even have my degree yet, and I feel like a pathetic loser because of it.
I saw an old friend of mine on Facebook today...she has become a model.
Enough said...
I'm stuck in my parents house until I get married by the looks of things, don't worry though, they want me to live realistically, so their charging me rent.
My body is disgusting, my stomach is not flat, it sticks out...my workouts start tomorrow so I hope to have that fixed soon. Don't worry, I don't have an eating disorder or anything, trust me, my stomach shows that.
I know it is shallow, and therefore this thought is probably wrong, but I want to look hot. I'm a redhead for crying out loud, we're naturally born ugly, it's called being Irish. I want to walk around with my pants loose because my waist is too small. I want Ken and I to be one hot couple (Ken is a girl, don't worry, she is my fiance).
Her mother took some photos of us one day, about a week after the engagement. I looked through those photos and I got so depressed, I could see my stomach hanging over my belt, it was so bad, so wrong, I'm so ashamed. 6:00 am I'll be up and outside, running, situps, pushups, and painkillers. My body hurts everyday, my feet constantly hurt. Don't worry though, my step-dads insurance company dropped me, so I have no health insurance. I'm going to another town tomorrow to talk to my life insurance man about health insurance, my parents want nothing to do with me, so it's going to be expensive. I wish I understood them, I wish they showed compassion, not just, "This is a good experience for you", it hasn't been. Honestly, I was capable of so much, and my parents decided not to direct me in anything...and as shallow as it may be, I blame a lot of my failures on them as poor parents, and it'll stay like that. That's a horrific thought, but it is true. If they don't want me around, I wish they'd just tell me so I can pack up my stuff, and just leave. I'm ready to leave, I'm ready for change, I'm ready for anything. I'm ready for things to start looking up for a change.
Facebook is depressing. I get on there, reading my friends status's:
"John loves his new house"
"Rachel is going to the beach in her new jeep"
"Kris has her first game today as head coach"
"Jo is heading to Texas for soccer"
"Ken loves the Grand Canyon"

My status:
"Shawn is..."
"Shawn is..."
"Shawn is..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Shawn is sick and tired of being in a town of 1300 people where he is constantly asked why he isn't teaching, he is sick of having parents that don't give a rip, he is sick and tired of hurting his fiance through arguments, he is tired of looking in the mirror and being disappointed, he is tired of his friends having all the money and him scrapping for survival while his parents make him pay rent, he hates being at Subway making sandwiches, he hates working the same shift every single day, he is sick of a being a disappointment, he is sick of not being successful, he is tired of helping others achieve great things only to have nothing to show for himself, he hates the fact that his truck is soon to die, he hates that he isn't playing soccer, coaching soccer, nothing, he hates how every girl he dated that dumped him, did it via text messaging because they had no spines, he hates how he feels out classed by his fiances family, even though he is. Shawn hates that he is from a trailer park, his dad has forgotten about him, his parents don't care about him, he pisses off everything, he irritated a whole church body, he made a university hate him, he created a town to not trust him, he nearly ripped apart a family that wasn't even his own, he has created so much damage, hurt so many people, and no one stops him. Shawn is sick of being his own worst enemy."
"Shawn is hurt."
"Shawn is crying."
"Shawn is crying for someone to hold him."
"Shawn is alone."
"Shawn has driven everyone away that cared."
"Shawn is the prodical son, except no one will take him back."
"Shawn is a number, a statistic, another face."
"Shawn is a bleak future."
"Shawn is a stain."
"Shawn is depressed."
"Shawn is gone."
"Shawn is..."
"Shawn is..."
"Shawn is..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."

...end of transmission...

Time to Type

It's been a while...
It's been a long while...
It seems like yesterday...
While it seems it was eternity...
How life has changed...
How I've grown...
How I've cried...
How I am, what I am today...

...alive...

I supposed it has been a while since I've last left my imprint on the pages of this digital text, so I guess I need to account for where I have been. How long has it been? Quite a while, so I'll get down the chase, make it short, sweet, and to the point.

When this blog was started I was back in the days of depression. I had just been dumped (as some of the posting shows of the original text), for the first time ever, it was devestating. 2 years of a relationship, looking at maybe engagement, who knew...but it was great...however the key word is "was", for it no longer exist. The blog was an outlet, and things have changed since the creation of this blog. Many things, this site is over a year old now. I'm older, much I'm afraid...sitting at 22 as of two weeks ago. I've gained weight, I'm now sitting at 253 lbs. I have not grown anymore, I stand at 6'5.
I am a college graduate, I graduated from Southwest Baptist University May of this present year (2009). I ended with the two degrees I fought for:
Bachelor's of Science in Social Science Education
Bachelor's of Science in Political Science
I still run, a lot I'm afraid. I tack on at the least 10-15 miles a week. I know some cross country runner is rolling their eyes at that. I don't work out as much though, I just focus on running. It is peaceful, and relaxing.
I do not have a full time job. I work at Subway in Gower, Missouri still. I also have just put out applications for 9 school districts in the area as a substitute teacher. That ought to keep me busy for some time. It's money, the part that is lacking, probably the part that I miss the most is soccer. I've coached at a high school in the ozark area of Missouri for two years now. Both years were rough years, but I loved the action, and I loved being in the action. However, for this year, I believe it's going to have to be sat on the side. One of the schools I'm going to be subbing at though, does have a soccer team, and they could use some help, we'll see what time has for us.
That's all I've got for the moment...I'll send more later...

Shawn