Testimony of God's Great Love and Peace.

Have you ever felt that everything is working against you, even though you put in all your effort to do excellent? I feel as if that sentiment could sum up my entire life, from day one until now. For the majority of my life (outside of two years of University), I've done my best and still things go wrong. This isn't me playing the victim; it is a simple observation of my life. I try hard, things go bad, and I feel inadequate. It is as simple as that.

This past week was no different, when I traveled with 21 kids and 4 leaders to Lake Champion, in New York. I thought everything was going real well, at first. We got almost all of the payments and forms done before we met. We had everything packed and ready to go. The students arrived on time for the bus. We even left a little earlier than I expected. In fact, we were slated to be the first area to arrive at camp. It was so perfect.

That is, until our bus broke down in rural Pennsylvania.

For no apparent reason, the bus lost power and we were forced to the side of the interstate. After some time, the driver informed us that we would have to wait about 3 ½ hours for another bus to come for us. Eduardo and I walked to the nearest town to find help. After talking to a church to secure a location for our students, we went back to figure a way to get them there. When we got back the police finally arrived. They told us at first they would be able to give our kids transport. However, a state trooper arrived and said that he ‘didn't have time to drive kids around’. I guess it wasn't worth his time to take kids off of a broken down bus on the side of a very busy interstate, even though it was hot and there was limited water. Perhaps that was his way of showing his commitment to ‘protect and serve’ people?

Fast forward to around 4:30, and another bus finally came from Virginia. We were finally back on the road. We arrived at camp around 6 pm. We were originally scheduled to arrive at camp at 1:30.  I was a little upset, to say the least. Still though, we were there.

After a couple days of cuts, bruises, and a rash that I believe is poison ivy, we came to a night of pillow fighting. Believe it or not, guys really enjoy beating the tar out of each other with pillows.  And in typical fashion for Thomas, I was hit hard in the eye (ouch!) and fell back and hit my head on a bed (double ouch). I was actually knocked out by hitting the bed.  A major headache ensued, and I had to retire for the night.

The next day, we were up for the ropes course. Ropes course is always fun to do with the guys. I get to push them to their limits and do things they never thought they could do. However, due to my injury from the night before, I was not in a good place to do the ropes course.  About half way through, I began to sweat quite a bit, followed by a splitting headache. Following this was nausea, black spots appearing in my sight, and dizziness.   Instead of risking an accident, I turned around and came down from the trees. After the medic came to see me, I laid on a bench, listening to my guys finish the ropes course in triumph. They didn't see me, but I was fighting back tears. Never have I felt like such a loser in my life. I hate not being able to complete things, especially when it comes doing things with the guys.

A day later, around Tuesday, I was recovered from the headaches and nausea. We had a great day, minus a little rain in the morning. That night, I used Eduardo’s phone to call my sweetie. Throughout the week I was unable to make calls on my phone, due to signal. This was a bummer, because I am so used to talking to her every night before bed. On top of that, I was a little anxious because I knew parents would want to talk to their kids, and without my phone it would be hard for that connection to happen.

As I was talking with Paola, she informed me that I needed to call my mom. Evidently on the same day we left, someone found my mom’s sister (my Aunt Rachel) dead in a bathroom. From what I understand, she overdosed on something, though I am not sure what substance that might be. I was never particularly close to her, because she lived in Florida. Still, hearing my mom sound so sad about the loss of another sibling left me feeling empty inside. I wanted to be able to say the right words to give her peace. I left the cabin that night to walk around camp. I cried out to God “Lord, I wanted you to shake up my life, but did you have to do it like this”.

 After some more crying and praying, I looked out at the lake. I saw the stars reflecting on it. Then I looked up. I saw all the stars in that night sky. It was the most vast night sky that I have seen in ages. I felt so insignificant. Does anything really matter? Is this camp worth it? Should I just give up now because I am a terrible leader?

 But God did as He often does. He spoke gentle words into me. But though they were gentle to hear, they pierced me to the very core. The words he spoke wiped away my tears of pain and doubt, and built into me a feeling of chaotic peace. I know that sounds oxymoronic, but it totally makes sense to me. I was so at peace that I was in a bit of chaos. I mean, everything in my life has been going bad lately. How can I be at peace with everything that is going on? I need to worry and make plans! I need to speak out about things. I need to do this and that. But God reminded me that the thises and the thats of this life are already taken care of.

I went to bed that night, feeling a peace again, that once escaped me a long time ago.

The next day, I had incredible joy in welcoming two young men into the Kingdom of Christ. Eduardo welcomed in another, and Elise and Melissa lead several ladies to that same point. One young man specifically moved me as he was wrestling with the decision. He had fear of relapsing into doing stupid things back home. After conversing for a good while, we decided to pray. He looked up to the sky, as if to look for an answer. It was mostly cloud while we talked, but when he looked up a beam of sunlight came down and hit him. It didn’t hit me, right next to him. It didn’t hit anywhere around him. It landed straight on his face. He said right away that he needed to make the decision there and then. So I prayed over him, and after about 5 mins of his own personal praying, he looked up and told us that he felt like a free man. Oh, to have the feeling of freedom!

I talked with him earlier today. His fear about relapsing was overcome after he and his other friend turned down the opportunity to smoke and drink when they got back home. I feel so proud of him for making this decision to let God’s love change his life.

After we wrapped up our good byes and packed our things on the bus, I began to feel a familiar friend come back to mind. When we made a stop, it was only reinforced. I am going to be vulnerable right now. For the last few months, I have struggled with income. I have a few jobs which give me semi-regular projects, but when I get paid it is usually only enough to cover my bills (rent and phone), and a little food. After checking my bank accounts and seeing them to be below the $20 mark, I began worrying. How am I going to get food? How am I going to provide for myself? I worried myself sick.

 But, once again, God delivers.

God silenced my worries when I came home to see a bunch of groceries lying on my bed. Evidently my wonderful, beautiful, amazing girlfriend came all the way from her house to my house to leave the groceries there. God has blessed me so much, that I can barely see (well, that is mostly because of the tears in my eyes, I guess).

When I look back at my life from the last few months, and I see the struggles I have endured over that time and especially over this last week, and then I feel the overwhelming peace of God in my life, I feel like my new brother in Christ, Roony. I feel free now. I mean, I was free beforehand, but God really reminded me this week at how free I am in Him.

Not only that, He reminded me nothing can stop His love and His glory from being known and shown. There are no bus break downs, scrapes, cuts, poison ivy rashes, concussions, or money issues that are so big as to stop God from showing His love.  Not even the death of a family member can stop the great Gospel of Jesus Christ from being revealed. Nothing can stop God from taking those on the path of death, and putting them on the path of Life.

I’ll end with this thought that I see on every email from my mentor, Carlos Dimas: “God is bigger than my problems”.

God is much bigger, indeed.

Did George Washington Really Exist?

I just don’t know if I believe that George Washington ever existed. I mean, how am I supposed to believe that a man was able to lead a ragtag group of individuals to fight against the top military in the world? On top of that, he become leader of a new country, which later became the most powerful institution on earth? I think people of the time needed a figure to rally around, during an unnerving time in world history.

I am open to the idea that maybe he was real, but not the commander or leader that people made him out to be. Maybe he was just a good person, who taught that freedom was a good thing. Then, over time, he was shaped to be something he was not. I mean, look at some supposed famous things that happened in his life:

• He started his military career early.
• He was called General.
• He led an insurrection against the most powerful country at the time.
• He famously crossed over a river to attack. 
• His military success led to a new kind of government coming forth. 
• After the war was over, he was offered a crown, but never took it. 

Now, look at Julius Caesar and see how he compares to the figure of ‘George Washington”:

• He started his military career early.
• He was called General.
• He led an insurrection against the most powerful country at the time. 
• He famously crossed over a river to attack the ruling government.
• His military success led to a new kind of government coming forth.
• After the war was over, he was offered a crown, but never took it. 

Isn’t a little too coincidental that ‘George Washington’ looks a lot like a very well-known historical figure?

I know what some people might be saying:

• "Well, don't we have historical documents about him?"  Well, yes we do. But a lot of them are biased, as they were written by pro-American forces. As for the British sources, it could be that American spies intercepted messages and inserted writings about Washington to stir up paranoia. It seems like their propaganda machine worked just fine.
• "Didn't contemporaries make paintings of him?" People have made paintings about Zeus. Does he exist? How about if I made a painting of a Sasquatch, does it meant his mythical figure actually exists? Or does it mean I am creating an image based on what myth tellers have stated over the years?
• "Don't we have his body?" Well, maybe we do. Maybe we don't. Have you ever seen the body? Do you trust the pro-Washington supporters to tell you the truth regarding whether or not  that is really the body of a man named George Washington? But, let us say it is the body of a man named Washington. Does that mean that he was whoever we claim he is now? No. It just means that a man named Washington lived a long time ago, and died a long time ago. Nothing special about him.
• "Why is this country so devoted to the name of Washington, if he didn't exist?" Why are so many people devoted to Scientology? Isn't that based on Science-Fiction? If you promote a belief hard enough, there will people who believe it, especially uneducated masses (like the ones that existed in the 1700's & 1800's). Once you get a few people to believe something so much, it will snowball over time, until many people believe that something as the truth.

George Washington is a figure that the uneducated masses can look up to. He was humble, honest, and he supposedly willingly gave up power? Does that sound like any sort leader that you can think of today? No. Why? Perhaps Washington never existed. Or, if he did, he was never really the person we think of today.


Now, if you think the above is a bunch of steaming crap, imagine how I feel when the same exact arguments are used to try to discredit the existence of Jesus of Nazareth. And just as it easy to poke holes through what I wrote above, it is very easy to poke holes through the arguments of internet scholars who claim they know that Jesus never existed. Whether it is claims of Jesus-Mything (Jesus was a figure created by meshing together pagan myths), claims of exaggeration (Maybe there was a person named Jesus, but he was just a lowly teacher, nothing special), claims of bias (Early Christians forged documents by secular and opposing writings, so you can't trust those, nor can you trust the writings of early Christians), or claims of the masses being duped due to poor education (People want to believe the stories, because they are afraid of the truth of life and death and need comfort), all are easily countered with strong arguments that never get answered back.

These times are hard. Never have we had so much information available to us, yet never have there been so many people repeating misinformation. The internet is a wonderful tool for learning, but also for disseminating false claims. Don't believe everything you read. Read opposing arguments. If someone can't respond to opposing arguments, it might be safe to assume their initial claim doesn't hold much ground. Again, just because it is on the internet, and people repeat it, doesn't mean it is true. Check out the facts for yourself, or you might end up believing that George Washington was a fake character created by American propaganda machines.

-Thomas

Name and Tree

'What's in a name?' the oft asked question goes,
But for me, a name is meaningless.

I have removed the very mention of your name from mind
My heart
My very being.

It was a name I could repeat with ease
A name that made the heart skip and the butterflies flutter
It was a name I hoped to have beside mine,
'Until death do us part'.

But that time has come and gone.
As it was written:
'The wind blows, and we are gone— 
 as though we had never been here.'

And you are gone.
Your name is gone off my tongue.

Yet, a promise remains in my heart.

Young lovers make many an empty promise;
'I'll love you forever', 
'I'll never leave you', 
'You're the only one for me'.

We made many more.
Those, like your name, have passed from my mind.
Our love ran dry, long ago.

 But this one thing remains:
A promise made on the loneliest of roads, in the loneliest of times,
Yet life was content, with you at my side.

We drove, no cares in the world
Flipping through the radio stations,
Singing those silly songs.

Cracking the windows, you let the summer breeze flow
Your hair blowing in the wind,
Blue sweet summer sky sparkled in your eyes

You took my hand in yours
Soft, caressing, gentle

'Baby' you spoke softly 'pull over here'.

In the shade of a tree, we stopped.
And in the shade of a tree,we made a lasting connection

'When you pass this tree, in person or in thought' you said,
gesturing to the lonely tree in a sea of nothingness

'Remember me. Think of me. Pray for me'

I nodded with a smile.
'What a silly request' I thought, however, to myself.

'Baby, I'd do anything for you.' I assured you.

The latter faded, but the former stayed,
I cannot explain why.

I doubt I'll travel that lonely country highway in person again
But in my mind, my heart, my memories,
 I travel it often.

I traveled it today.

And I thought of you.
I remembered your face for a quick moment
And I prayed to God above, for you.

I never uttered your name,
 But I kept my promise.

And as your name further fades from my mind,
I'll still be reminded of you.
 I'll still pray for you,
Where ever you may be.

Your face will turn to a blur,
Your voice will be forgotten,
I will never, ever love you again

But I will keep this promise,
'til my breath and soul escape my body.

  What is in a name? This, I do not know.
Perhaps we should consider 'What is in a promise, under a tree?'

And perhaps we'll never know, this side of paradise.

A moment or two of silence

I live in a hustle bustle world. I live in a very fast paced city. Everyone is always on the go. Everything is always moving. Life here is quite noisy.


My life is quite noisy.  On an average day I have my ear buds plugged in jamming the latest and greatest on my Metro commutes, or periodically through out the work day. The average day will see me coming home to turn on my computer and my tv. My computer will play a tv show or music, while my TV plays a game. My mind is entrenched deeply in both. Heck, even as I write this I have music going. I can't even sleep without the sound of the fan above.


My life is very noisy. And I hate the quiet now. Not hate, more like I am annoyed by the quiet.  And so this makes things a little difficult when I pray. See, I am expecting God to be as active in response to me, as my mind is in engaging in prayer. But God is oddly quiet lately. 




And then it dawned on me tonight why God is so quiet. Once He spoke so loudly in my life, right? What happened to that? I believe it is the very fact that i have given my attention to so many things that are not God. I don't rest my mind or heart. I don't unplug from the noise. How can I hear His voice when all the voices of this world drown his out?


I look back at times of growth with my Lord. They are during times of isolation or solitude. Not solitude from people (even though that had to happen in one case), but solitude from the world. I look back at how the Lord saved me, in a time of solitude prayer. I look back at a time of immense growth and submission on the mission field.  I was surrounded by people and scenery, but it all faded out in comparison to the Lord. I look back to when I was consumed with another person. God removed that relationship, to grow me beyond my shortsightedness. When I was stagnant in life and faith, he isolated me from all that gave me comfort and threw me into a new wilderness.

And now, I have allowed myself to slowly slip away, drawn by those things of this world....And He has isolated his voice from my life. Not his presence, but his voice. I can still feel Him, but simply cannot hear him. And odd experience, to say the least.  I was very worried about this, until earlier. An old, familiar verse, but a powerful one at that, crept into my mind.

"Be still and know that I am God."

And so shall it be. I MUST do this. I must hear His voice speaking into my life again.

Goodnight, Light

Goodnight, Light

A whisper, a smile
A thought, a prayer

A spark to start a fire
A wind to carry the flame

Spreading, consuming
Devouring.

Scorch the earth
Blaze with fury

Ashen remains
Blackened void.

Passion,
Burning passion
You consumed
You devoured

I am a man burned.
Burned again.

Thrice, sparks ignited.
Thrice, inferno raged.
Thrice, fiery death scourged the land.

Thrice, I have look to the heavens for relief.

Merciful God,
Where hast Thou been?
Why hast Thou withheld the rains?
Did Thy hands not fills the oceans with every drop?
Did Thy hands not fill the earth in judgement?
And part the seas in mercy?
Did Thy Son not calms the seas and walk on the waves?
Why then hast Thou kept even a drop from my tongue?

O' Lord
Where are you in my time of need?
Where is my rescue?

Have I not been faithful in trusting you?
Have I not delivered my concerns to you?

Yet, here I stand alone.

The light you placed with in me,
It sputters.
No tinder remains to keep it lit.
For that was consumed.

What shall I do?
Fall to my knees? Confess some hidden sin?
Read a passage of the Word? Sing a song of praise?

How can I?

I trusted you as I began to entrust my heart to another?
But I have been played the fool. Again.

Again, Again, Again.

Goodnight, Light.
You once were bright
Now you fight,
Fight for life.

Goodnight, Light.

Hopeless

Life, at times, seems very hopeless. A feeling of hopelessness has crept into my life over the last week or so. After all, a lot of things have been going very badly. I've been sick, been struggling with a bit of loneliness, been unhappy with being immobile (stupid car). Not only that, but there has been a family member who in the hospital with a very serious condition. It has really be a trying time.

Tonight, things got a little more rough.  One of the students that I mentor through Young Life came over, and we had a discussion about his life. The gist of the conversation was in regards to sense of no hope in life. I can't go into much details about what was said, but it truly broke my heart. To see him start to cry because he live a life like everyone else, destroyed me! I had to keep back from bawling my eyes. I love this guy like a little brother. Seeing him suffer causes me to suffer with him.

He went on to talk about how he felt that sometimes God was distant.  I think we all have these moments. For most, it goes a little like this:

"God, I didn't get X! Where are you?"

Sadly, I have heard that many times in my life. I have even said it a few times. How spoiled and foolish to think that God doesn't love us because we don't get what we want. Imagine a child questioning whether their parent loved them, because the parent gave them vegetables instead of sweets. It is the same reasoning, really.

My friend, however, wasn't having this type of moment. It was a genuine cry out. "Everything is falling apart. I can't see the light. God, where are you?"

I don't think it is coincidental that all of this lined with today and this weekend. We know the story of Christ's crucifixion. He was killed for our sins, an rose again. The end. But we also miss so much of the human experience that happened at the same time. I fully believe that Mary, Peter, John, Thomas, etc all had this moment of hopelessness. Not just a moment, but days of hopelessness. Mary watched her beloved son beat, and killed. How much more hopeless can you get than to be a parent watching your child being killed, and not being able to do anything about it? I can't even imagine the pain, the agony! That is a moment of hopelessness.

The disciples spent 3 years of their lives with Jesus. They gave up everything to follow him. They grew to see him as a mentor, a friend, a companion, and as their Lord. They believed with their whole hearts that he was going to change the world, and bring them something wonderful. Yet, they scattered in fear and disbelief as their master and friend was killed. They hid, not sure what to think or what to do next. They only knew that the only thing that mattered to them, was now dead. They had nothing left to hope for. Absolutely nothing.

Yet, we know this all changed. Something amazing happened. It wasn't just that a man came back from the dead. It was that they realized that God truly does keep His word. They realized that their hope had been placed in something which was temporary. Yet, when Christ arose, they realized that they had limited vision prior. It was such a revelation that they ended up being a force unlike what has been seen on the earth. The boldly went about preaching, healing, and living the life that Christ taught to them. Why? Not because it is a happy, feel good message. No, there is hope in Christ. There is ONLY hope in Christ. Christ is the only hope. There was no hope in the earthly kingdom they imagined him bringing. There was no hope in the powers they imagined they would acquire. There was no hope in riches, or fame. No hope in theology or government.

No, there was only hope in Christ then. There is only hope in Christ now. There will only ever be hope in Christ, ever.

Outside of the work of Christ on the Cross and His victorious Resurrection, there is absolutely no hope. And sadly, most people will never know this hope. They move from temporary thing to temporary thing, trying to find something new to give them hope. They are like locusts moving from field to field, to feed. In the end, there are no more fields to feed on.

Yet, those of us in Christ will never go hungry. We will never have to go to another field. No, we are not like locusts at all. Christ is our only Hope. We need nothing else.


I hope my friend will learn this lesson from my example. I pray to God that I can show Him how Jesus is far more superior than what he believes he is missing out on. I pray that he, and others, will see the futility of trusting and hoping in the perishable things of life, and cling to the everlasting hope of a victorious Savior.

Happy Easter.

Via Dolorosa

The Way of Grief

A path I have trekked many times in my life

My footprints litter the ground before me.

My first steps were from walking along the crowd

Focused on the show,

But never seeing what it was all about.

Unaware that every step

Takes me closer to the end.

Kyrie Eleison,

Lord have mercy on me!

A sinner unaware of the path he stumbles down!

Another set of prints in the dust

Mark a life of mockery

A man no longer content with walking

I lead the way, in front of the Christ

Sprinting towards demise

Spewing hatred and lies

The cross He bears,

It is engraved with my name.

I run towards perdition and darkness

Free of care

Full of wickedness

Unaware that he carries that which belongs to me.

As I run faster towards the end

I hear a whisper in the end

My name echoes throughout the narrow passage ways

Along the Way of Sorrows.

I turn and see Him reaching his hand out

Begging me to slow down

"Stop! Before you reach the end.

Wait! Before you break my heart!

You don't know where you are going"

Taunting turns to silence

Who is this man?

Why does he warn me of the danger ahead?

Did I not mock Him? Did I not curse Him?

I stand back,

Letting him pass.

As He walks by,

I see destiny engraved in the wood

Splinters broke his skin,

blood and sweat smeared the tree

Yet, I saw it clearly marked.

My name etched deep into the wood

Crimson stained.

He carried that which was mine.

Dread and sorrow grip me

Legs too weak to hold me any longer

I drop down to the dry, coarse dust beneath me

The sky above me is clear

The sounds of the crowd slip away

Looking up, I realize what is happening

An innocent man is being charged with my crimes.

Why? Why does He carry it for me?

Do they know they have the wrong man?

Should I man up and take back my what I own?

Or should I run away. Another man is taking my punishment.

I am free to go! I can go continue to live how I want!

I pick myself up and dust off,

Turning to walk away a soldier stops me

"Where do you think you are going?

You will help the criminal carry His cross"

"No! You cannot make me!" My reply shouts back

I attempt to escape, but am quickly subdued.

They carry me to the man Jesus,

Telling me to help Him up.

And now I am helping a man bear the burden that I solely deserve.

I am helping him walk towards His death.

MY death.

The death that I should taste.

Yet, he doesn't speak of word of accusation towards me.

He just grunts as we load the cross on our backs.

I look at him in the face,

Bloodied and bruised.

A foul stench escapes from his wounds

The heat bears down on us

and the dust dries our throats.

I wish to speak to him

But even air has trouble escaping my mouth.

He looks back to me, then past me.

I turn my head and see a woman in mourning.

Grief flows from her heart.

Her beloved son, treated as a criminal

Flesh ripped open for the trespasses of another man.

Where is the justice, in condemning this woman's son?

Guilt and accusations barrage my heart

"This should be me" I whisper to myself.

What have I done?

What am I doing?

How can I allow us to get closer to the end?

A hill rises before us,

The city fades behind.

Mere steps separate us from our destination.

I look over at him again

His eyes pierce my soul.

His gaze reaches into my innermost places

Before I even speak a word,

He knows what I am about to say.

"This is no longer yours to carry."

Stunned, I watch as His lifts the burden off my shoulders

He struggles uphill.

The soldiers push me down, out of the way

As they rush to strike Him more.

Their laughter rattles in my heart.

Their laughter, my laughter.

Their mockery, my mockery.

His innocence, my cross.

The world spins around me.

I cannot take it any longer.

"THAT IS MY CROSS! THAT IS MY CROSS!"

I rush up the hill, yelling like a madman.

"Give me what I deserve! That is MY CROSS!"

A soldier punches me, then shoves me to the ground.

My head strikes the earth with force.

I look up, the world blurred and doubled,

Yet I see Him clearly.

His lips move slightly

"I am making you free. Go and be free"

Tears roll down my face, dotting the dried dirt.

I reach out towards Him,

But soon find myself tumbling as the soldiers kick me down the hill.

"Father, forgive them!"

The words pierce my ears as I black out.

Kyrie Eleison,

Lord have mercy on me!

A sinner who now knows the price that was paid for freedom!

And now I stand looking at the path before me.

I see the steps I have walked before.

Beside them, I see a line in the sand.

Evidence of a heavy burden being dragged alongside.

Here I am,

Another morning

Another chance to bear this cross of mine.

But this is not a cross of condemnation.

It is of freedom.

I am free,

Thanks to One who bore what was mine

on the Via Dolorosa.