so much to say, but not via blog

as the title insinuates, lots to say, think about, process right now.

i just watched district 9, the new ultra super scifi movie from peter jackson. i don't want to talk much about it because a lot of the movie could be spoiled. however, a lot of the movie has to do with the eternal battle of nature (bad) and intentions (good). you can define those terms differently and that becomes a big theological debate... but i don't really feel like going there. but anyways, good v. bad. someone in the movie does something really heroic, something kind of unpredictable, and they die. well kind of. but its their last action we know of. and i began to think about life and last actions. don't let that set off red flags... i was just pondering that concept.

and i realized...

each of our actions could be our last.

each of our words could be our last.

each of our thoughts could be our last.

each of our conversations could be our last.

our lives are tender and deserve to be taken care of, reverently, joyfully, and worshipfully. we could live 9 more seconds or 90 more years. what do you want to be your last action? understanding that the only certainty in life is that we will all at one point die... how do we learn to live in such a way that our next actions and our last actions become synonymous with each other, fervently focused on answering the question, "What do I want my legacy to be, while alive and deceased, and how does that reflect God's loving purposes for the world around me?"

if this is my last blog post ever, what do i want people to know?

The Great Exchange by Thrice

I crewed on a fair golden ship that went down at the dawn of the world. We mutinied had sentenced our captain to die 'fore our sails had barely unfurled.
We sank shortly after our riot, Wanton flames and our powder kegs met. While I swam for my life became voices aloft, joyful, unearthly, and dread.
Singing of a violent, tireless mystery that one would give his life to save his enemies
Too bone tired to keep my arms moving to swim or even grasp out for straws...Undertow drew me down into its cold and infinite, indigo jaws. I was singing of a violent, tireless mystery that one would give his life to save his enemies. Thought I must be dead or dreaming when my captain still battered, betrayed, pulled me up, laid me over the beam he clung to...Breathed his last and sank under the waves.

Your body is a bridge across an endless sea. Your body is a bridge across an endless sea.