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KingKong
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Name: Justin
Country: United States
State: Hawaii
Birthday: 3/14/1985
Gender: Male
Interests: chillin and yeah... chillin. Bass, guitar, video games, chillin, uke, chillin, soccer, surfing, chillin
Expertise: yup .............................well no........ umm....... hmm.................. i know a lot about......... yeah....
Occupation: Student
Industry: Education/Research
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
Member Since:
3/28/2002
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| Wow, it's been some time since I last wrote in Xanga. Actually it's been some time since I've written period. I'm not sure I remember how to write anymore. Unfortunately I feel like my English abilities have regressed over the year that I've been here in Japan, while my Japanese hasn't improved as much as I had hoped. That's alright though, because I have the rest of my life to improve.
This week Wednesday marks the beginning of finals for me. Although it's finals season my friend, who will remain anonymous for his protection from xanga zombies, recently introduced me to the television series "Heroes." He has the entire first season on his computer and the other day I spent about three hours in his room along with another friend, who also shall remain nameless, watching successive cliff-hanger episodes of the addicting series. The friend who introduced me to the series was introduced to an addicting boxing anime in a previous final season at his home university.
Having experienced such a traumatic experience, spending excessive hours watching an addicting series while attempting to study for finals and suffering sleep deprivation, one might expect that this friend would be kind enough to refrain from subjecting me to the same pain. However, thankfully, he didn't have such consideration. And yes, I know that "thankfully" seems out of place considering that I was just complaining about being subjected to sleep-stealing television series watching, but actually I quite enjoy it. Well, it's sort of a love-hate relationship.
On an unrelated note, I heard once that the secret to successful blog writing is to write something that will change your reader's lives. That could be some incredible revelation or insight, or you could be providing valuable information or perhaps instruction concerning some sort of skill. Thus I began thinking that maybe I should write something significant, and in fact before I ever heard that secret of blog writing, there was a short period where I sought out to write only profound entries that were rich in meaning. However, most people don't even read this, so it hardly matters if I just ramble on about daily occurrences and casual musings like I usually do. Nevertheless, from time to time I do like to write something deep or share an epiphany that I've had. Today's just not really one of those days.
After saying all that, I would like to mention a topic that crossed my mind as I was falling asleep last night, which may or may not change your life just slightly. I was recently asked how I hear from God, because I mentioned that hearing God's voice is important to me, especially when it comes to decisions that have heavy implications in my life. It wasn't the first time I was asked the question, but I don't really have a prepared answer or anything, so it's sometimes hard to clearly quantify exactly how God speaks to me.
In my experience, God doesn't speak in an audible voice, although there are people who have heard God's audible voice on rare occasions. One occasion that I recall was during the Columbine shooting, when the brother of martyr Rachel Scott heard God tell him where to go. I find that the way I heard from God is similar to most other people I know who hear from Him, though. The most frequent way is when after praying and asking about a particular matter I will read something in the bible that becomes alive and undeniably answers my question. This makes sense since the bible says that in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the word was God. It also says that the word is living and active, sharper than a double-edged sword that judges the thoughts and attitudes of man. Thus having an encounter with the bible is really having an encounter with God, and in fact God speaks through his word all the time for those who read it carefully.
Concerning hearing God through His word, there are at least two ways into which this matter can be divided. First there is the literal word taken in faith, comprehending the character of God as revealed in the text. As in any book there is a literal meaning from the diction, and there is also the connotation that is understood through various contextual clues. All these are present in the bible, and understanding this could be considered as one part of hearing from God since the bible is His message to us.
However, there is another way that God speaks through His word that I began to allude to earlier, and that is when the word itself becomes alive. There is a question upon your heart that perhaps you haven't even uttered, but when you read a single sentence suddenly you cannot proceed past it, but your heart is seized. Or maybe you petition God for an answer and then you read a random page in the bible that turns out not to be random at all, but your answer could not be clearer.
Another way in which it is common to hear from God is in a still small voice. This is heard frequently during prayer, especially when after spending some time praying we stop to listen to what God's opinion on things might be. Often times God's thoughts are not thoughts that we would normally have or would even like to acknowledge, but they cannot be easily shaken once they're heard, and somehow we understand their validity. Furthermore, these thoughts will always coincide with what the bible says, since God is always in agreement with Himself. He doesn't change, but remains perfect forever. Neither does He lie, for He is incapable of lying.
That still small voice is difficult to explain to someone who hasn't heard it before. And it's not always easy to hear since we usually have so many of our own thoughts in the way. Furthermore we tend to ignore God or give up on hearing from Him when answers aren't immediate, but often effort is necessary to clear the refuge that blocks us from hearing clearly. I also feel like people think I'm crazy when I tell them that I hear from God. Either that or they think that I'm just deluding myself into thinking I'm hearing Him when actually I'm only hearing my own thoughts.
Those thoughts sometimes enter my own head too, but last night I was thinking about prophecy, and I realized that this has something to do with a simple explanation of hearing God. Simply stated, prophecy is hearing God on behalf of someone else. It is amazing to me how a person who knows nothing about me can prophecy about details that shouldn't be known to them. Of course, they don't know everything, but God speaks what he wants to be heard. After hearing from God for myself that I should become a teacher, I've had people prophecy over me on several occasions that I had a special calling and ability to teach. I didn't mention anything about this to these people beforehand, and I had never even met one of the guys who said this.
When I think about prophecy, it's really a simple thing. God will place a thought, or a single word or phrase into your mind concerning a person. Or maybe it's a picture or a visceral feeling, but whatever form it comes in, God uses the person prophesying to convey something to the person in question. Sometimes it seems easier to hear God on behalf of someone else, but when I think of hearing from God as simply prophesying over myself, it makes it a lot easier for me to understand. He has a word, phrase, thought, picture, or feeling to give to me that I might convey it to my own heart.
The craziest way I heard from God, however, is through the television. He also speaks through other people in our lives, but I don't want to write anymore about either because I've been writing for a while. Okay, shoots.
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| As requested, here's a real weblog entry.
Yesterday I participated in an international concert/contest. It was a little more elaborate than I had anticipated. First of all, it wasn't at Yoyogi Koen as I had originally thought, but rather at a nearby complex, the same complex that was used to accommodate Olympic contestants when the Olympics was held in Japan. The facility was very spacious and the theater that we performed in was larger and more beautiful than anywhere I've played in before.
The performers were all very talented and quite eclectic, causing me to wonder how we, three goof balls playing "drop" were allowed to play. Ha ha, it was pretty funny. My favorite performer was this Chinese girl playing the kyoto (not the koto, but it's Chinese ancestor) and singing something or other in Chinese. There was also this pair from Laos playing these funny looking wooden monotoned wind instruments dancing in circles. One of them did a weird head stand toward the end too, all while continuing to play his mono-flute.
Anyway, it was a lot of fun, I got two free meals, and at the end almost everyone won some sort of prize. Along with the Chinese girl I mentioned earlier, we won a prize for being most "rhythmical" and they gave us these bags of super random prizes. Ha ha, it was so funny. There was like a toothbrush, two blankets, two pairs of girls pants and a skirt, a 5kg bag of really high quality rice, some sake, this really girly handbag with fur and fake jewels embedded in it. Heh heh. We also received a denshi jisho worth like a hundred fifty dollars though. The best thing we got were these cool cardboard containers to hold the certificates verifying that we won something. The containers were cylindrical and covered with fake snake skin. It was also quite entertaining to take the cap on and off.
So that briefly sums up my experience yesterday without getting into all of the little details. I was really blessed to be able to participate in such an interesting event. After talking with one of the coordinators, I found out that this event takes place only about once every three years, so for me to be here and to be able to play in the one year that I'm here in Japan is providential. Praise 'em.
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| something... de gozaimasu
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| I really don't know what to write right now. I've begun so many times only to erase everything again. Tomorrow I leave for Japan and as I contemplate my departure I am flooded with emotions of opposite extremes. I desire to remain in Hawaii, a desire that's been greatly amplified in the past two weeks because of how awesome all of my friends and family members have been. I feel so loved and special. At the same time, however, I am eager to leave because I know it's the will of God for my life in this season, and I know great things are in store for me in Japan that I haven't even foreseen. I'd write more now, but I'm really tired and I think I need to try to sleep for a few hours. Lately I haven't slept very much, but it was entirely worth it. Anyway, I want to repost an old entry from a little over a year ago that seems applicable in this hour. Actually I didn't write it about myself originally and sorta forget exactly what I had written. Ironically I think God's speaking to me now through my own writing. EmbarkmentThe weary warrior trudged along an over-beaten path. Clumps of dirt clung to his sweat-soaked shirt. His hair, matted with age-old oil, reeked and drips of sweat like tears crawled through trenches of mud on his tired face. Step, step ... step, step. The warrior hunched over and hung his lame head, limbs dangling like hung men, necks broken. Lead legs heavily and slowly -- rhythmically, emotionlessly -- thrashed the worn ground. Boots filled with mud, mixed with blood, lifted and fell. Step, step ... step, step. There were no huge obstacles in the path. Neither was there a noticable incline, and the way was well-defined, the result of millions having previously passed. In fact, many had walked through apparently enjoying their time on the path. For the warrior this was not so. For him, the very pleasantness was odious -- the familiarity monotonous. The beaten path relentlessly beat the warrior until finally ... finally he could bear the weight of it all no longer. Finally his heavy heavy feet would not lift themselves again. Finally his knees crashed into the ground dispersing dust and his head fell upon that cloud-pillow of dust. Until a night and a day and a night later, when in the darkness, within a ragged corpse-doll of a once-warrior there resounded a faint whisper. Through the halls of his innermost soul it echoed softly. Then more audibly, a mighty wind and then a gusting gale. Tired eyes that had been glued shut opened gingerly, then suddenly widely and with vigor. Reflected in those newly awakened eyes was a flickering fire of bronze. The warrior could not recall rising, yet found himself suddenly bolting through trees and brush. In the distance a horn blast shattered the silence and stirred every muscle, every sinew in the warrior's body. Swiftly he ran, instinctively sensing an impending battle. Suddenly the warrior stopped. And he stood. For the first time he truly stood, his back straight, broad shoulders back, nose to the air. The over-travelled path was far behind, unsearchable. And the warrior stood a second longer that seemed a glorious hour. Then off! Step step step step step stomp step step! The way was no longer friendly. Shards of brush protruded dangerously. Trees loomed ominously and fearfully. There were no paths to follow, and thorns covered the ground like a layer of spikes. Now there was a definite incline, steep and treacherous, so that the foliage-filled ground appeared like a green night ocean full of sea currents and sea creatures. Yet the warrior was invigorated, satisfied with his new arena. He sprinted upward until he reached a peak overlooking the green-black forest. His nimble feet felt light, yet they chose once more to stand still. His strong legs pulsated with the drum of his heart. His arms rested readily and his chest rose mightily as he inhaled a fresh breath of air. Ah! And what air! His face shone in the moonlight and his hair flickered in the wind. There the warrior stood, defiantly. Presently he noticed a makeshift sign, posted sturdily in the ground beside him. Few had ever been to that point before, but those who had come had all been great warriors and had earned their right to read the sign and to carve their initials in its post. It read simply: "For the daring, here marks the beginning of life." | | |
| Inspired by the Japanese christian martyrs, I professed to my Lord: "It would be an honor to die for you some day," to which He replied: "I would be more honored if you would live for me." | | |
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