On Vision

"If it is possible it must be attempted,
and I know it is possible because believing in my imagination of the future is as certain as believing in my past,
If it can be conceived it can be completed.
So we will stretch and we will strive with courage,
Because that is the way I love my God when I love my God.
Showing me a glimpse of his vision for the possibilities of our humanity.
In our Humanity he sees Heaven.
That is the way I love my God when I am loving my God.
He First Loved Me."


This is from the spring of my last year of college, I was beginning to understand the way I dream, the reason I dream, and where that leads us: my community and friends. We are told, given a passion, given a dream, given a task, given a desire, and so we stretch and courageously pursue it to its completion. We trust and obey, there simply isn't another way, method, or system to the pursuit of knowing and loving the divine and supernatural. We hear, and see what God is leading us to do, and we follow, that is how he leads us.

Lessons from Old People

The trees were changing color and I was on one of the many roads in America that leads to a place where people are birthed and passed away. Again like so many people, my grandparents were living into their late 70s, in fact my grandmother had turned 80 only a month before she had her stroke which sent her to the hospital and sent me on this road to visit the hospital that was sustaining and healing her life.



Several hallways of multicolored carpet and confetti-esque tile brought us-Unlce and Grandpa and me- to Grandma’s hospital room, which was already filled with balloons, flowers, and people.

She attempted to sit up and fix her hair as the one she has loved faithfully for decades walked into the room.

My grandfather, suffering from dementia, couldn’t even shave without the help of his loving wife. He could however, walk to the side of the bed of his recovering wife, place his hand on her forehead, grip her hand with the other, and sweep the hair out her eyes. Watching him do this; he stared back at his son, grandsons, daughter, and sister-in-law not recognizing most of us, and said, “Isn’t she beautiful,” then kissed her cheek whispering to her the confident and generous promise, “it is going to be alright.” He couldn’t find his car in the parking lot, he couldn’t understand what was actually going on, or what the doctors were saying, he could understand three simple things: Love, Hope, and Faith. He walked into that hospital room, not because he understood the circumstances, but because the one he loved was there, he could not survive without her. He saw what we all struggled to see: her beauty.

I knew, watching my grandfather, that I had witnessed the microcosm of the substantial changes that would shake and rattle this earth, and it was not what I had thought, and everything I was preparing to say fell away. I was in the very early stages of thoughts, inspiration, and revelations that would lead to the living actions of faithfulness, generosity, respect, and courage. I attempt those things because I live to know the realities, character, and person of my Jesus.

I want to understand the simple things, because-like my Granfather-I don't really understand much else...

Beginning of a Love Story

I started to write this story. I really like the beginning and how it starts:

This story takes place in a small town right off the interstate. It is a small place with few visitors, at least visitors that venture of the windy and noisy strip of gas stations, fast food, and motels into the streets of schools, churches, and neighborhoods. In this small town there is a love story that will not make you tear up in laughter or sadness. It will not be taught as tragedy or masterpiece in high school english classes, it will not be taught at all. It is a common love story and only those who know their story, or are a part of their story, or own this story will cry and clap in the end, the wedding. In this instance that is you, you are in this story, and it is your story, and you know it. All who hear it and believe in its love become a part of it. So we find ourselves in the most un-magical of love stories, in a town off the highway.

Update for Friends

For the thousands that subscribe to this blog let me update you on who I am now:

I am a ghost writer. I do research, write tests, assignments, and best of all storyline and content for a virtual reality online master's course called Business and Culture. I basically write a really intelligent computer game. It isn't like the dream, but it is totally the dream job of a guy who just graduated from college. The reason I am a ghost is because someone with actual knowledge and a PHD gets the credit and the final say on the course. I am not a "real" writer. Which is good, Im only 22.

I am a husband. I am one of those guys who looks like he is 20 and shouldn't be married and doesn't know anything about real life. In this case, the looks aren't decieving. Mirela and I are just figuring out how life really works. We are learning to "grow up" together. Buying Car and health insurance. I think the main challenge is "setting-up" all these things, never done that before. Mainly however, we are just having fun, getting to konw each other and figuring out how life together works. It is really beautiful.

I am a former SBUX employee. I just got tired of making drinks and being a drive through assistant. Plus, I got the other Job.

I am a trying to make new friends. We go to church a lot and really work hard to build new relationships. and really keep in touch with the old ones.