Determined to Live

Last night some friends and I played in the rain-soaked streets, splashing through every puddle between the courthouse and river. I wish it would rain tonight as it's always helped me sleep; not that'd I'd be able to hear it from where I'm sleeping tonight, which is the hospital.

I'm back in the sleep lab for the follow up study on my apnea. I actually got decent sleep when I was down there, which many of you know is a rarity for me. I have a new found appreciation for oxygen, as I tend to not get enough when I sleep and Of all the crazy things I do, and as insanely busy as my life is, I take the greatest risk everytime I go to sleep.

Every time I go to sleep, there's a chance I won't wake up due to sleep apnea. Perhaps that's why I've averaged 5 hours for the past three years. I'm due in for another test later on this month, they won't rig me up with as many crazy wires and sensors as they did last time, they're going to fit me for a CPAP, that will give a burst of air when my apneas occur.

In my last test I had 0ver 40 apneas where I stopped breathing. It wasn't so bad that they had to wake me up to rig the CPAP to me, nor was it so bad that I actually woke up. I've been doing what I can to minimize the risk when I sleep by sleeping on my side and drinking less beer and coffee and not exercising late at night. If left untreated I run a higher risk of stroke, heart attack, or just falling asleep at the wheel, or what have you.

My doctor told me there's no quick fixes here. This doesn't fix itself suddenly but over time and with a great deal of work on my part.





A Star Wars Joke would be too easy.


Part of this work is my decision to complete a triathlon. I've given myself 8 weeks to train and am starting my third week. Its been intense, and a challenge. Just last week my dog Roxanne and I were sprinting up the terraces at SEMO after work after having swam 500 yards earlier that day.

On the drive over I found myself asking, "Why the hell am I going to do this?"

I certainly don't enjoy running, I never have. I thought of all the other people who I know don't work out regularly much less with the intensity that I do, and figured somehow at that moment they were much happier than I was going to be for the next hour or so.

I often have to play mind tricks with myself to get me to run, such as imagining I'm leading a group of survivors out of a burning building, or I'm being ordered to take a hill in the sound and fury of battle, or whatever scenarios my hyperactive imagination can invent. I've also started visualizing myself accomplishing the major life goals: such as going on tour with the record, having the books published, receiving my masters, the most recent one of standing at the altar waiting to get married. Such determination to live kept me at the hill. The realization that I was the only one sprinting terraces did help drive me upward.
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I ran into April, who was running herself, and she told me "I'm glad you can dominate those hills." I certainly didn't feel dominant as I drove my way up the hills battling gravity the entire time. Lifting my legs off the ground to propel myself up and out was a battle against gravity. The entire time, gravity kept pulling me back as I strove up and forward. On the way down, I still battled gravity. This time I was careful not to let it overwhelm me.

There is a personal gravity that I have to battle day in and day out. It's the gravity that keeps me in bed 5 minutes before I have to be at work. It's the gravity that keeps me on the couch rather than working out. It's the gravity that keeps me on youtube and facebook though I need to be writing. It's the gravity that keeps me from picking up the phone and booking concerts, or scheduling meetings with my clients. It's not until I focus that I can break out of Gravity's tyrannical grasp.

Three time UFC Middleweight World Champion Rich Franklin says this, "Breaking away from our everyday world requires us to expend extraordinary energy - to achieve lift off and create a new trajectory. When accomplished, we are free."

I have the tendency to put my head down as I sprint. It doesn't actually make me run faster, it only makes me think I'm working harder and is in fact slowing me down. I realize while I have my dad's work ethic, I also have some of his bad habits, as neither one of us believe in the 'work smarter, not harder.' But by keeping my head down restricts my air, bends my spine, both of which hinder running. Finishing my workout made me appreciate air all the more.

Last night before I met up with the friends, Roxanne and I went on our run. As I climbed up the longest hill, the setting sun was at my back, and as I reached the apex, I could see just beyond the trees the rising shadow of twilight spreading into the sky and above it the full moon hung like a newly minted coin. Suddenly the dryness in my throat was forgotten, the pounding of my lower limbs softened, the sweat no longer stung in my eyes and I just ran. The sky filled with dark clouds like a black tide and the rain fell upon us just as we made the turn at the first mile and headed back. IT was refreshing, invigorating.

I told myself, "I will live."

Scars

"If I were to tell you, a tale of no tomorrows, of suffering and sorrow would you stay with me?"

Billy Cerveny--Harmony

My arms and legs are littered with scars. Like most men, years of yard work, athletics, outdoor activities, and whatever else have left more than their shares of impressions on me, and I suppose I never outgrew that childish habit at irritating these abrasions. We wear scars on our hearts for constantly living in this fallen world. And we find it is very easy to dwell on all the falls, all the scrapes, and all the bruises that we will inevitably accumulate by simply being human. It is easy for us to irritate these wounds with feelings of bitterness, animosity, bearing unforgivable grudges, blaming others, sentiments of self-pity and be as Mike Schmid sings, "Left to swim a lonely sea, complaining in hyperbole, why me? It's just not fair!"

Of course none of these actions can actually heal, rather such attitudes only cause our wounds to bleed more. Eventually two things can happen; either they will become hard, calloused and numb as ice and impenetrable to anything or anyone else. Or these scars will become seething and infected, becoming a very accessible port of entry for other nasty sicknesses to enter into our hearts and infect every aspect of our lives throughout all our time.

Much of what I am do as I write is examining old scars. Some I have had for a long time now, and can still recall exactly how they were inflicted upon me as vividly as the day I first acquired them. Others are some that I have forgotten about. Others still are very raw and tender. And just like a wound will foment and sting when antiseptic is applied, I expect the same to happen as I write. And there are two directions that I can take.

One is to write from the calloused scars on the outside, and let the hardness of these old inflictions dictate my writing. In which case this treatise will be everything I didn't want it to be: bitter, spiteful, hateful, festering, seething, and worse. While it may feel cathartic at the moment, all I will do is cause more division among those I am writing about, and cause more animosity to grow in myself. THe other approach I can take, is to realize as Nouwen describes, that I am, "called to recognize the sufferings of his time in his own heart and make that recognition the starting point of his service."

If I write from the open wound, and not the hardened scar, that can be used to bring healing and reconciliation. There's something to be said for being wounded. One thing I've noticed about the church these days is there is a lot of emphasis on healing. I've attended a couple healing services, where people claim to have the power of God to give healing. I've heard claims that if we don't receive healing from communion or worship or prayer or whatever it's our own fault because we don't have enough faith. While these ideas may be well intentioned, I don't believe they're entirely right.


Such people believe that we are supposed to live our lives free of pain, free of suffering and sorrow. And if there is pain in our lives, then there something wrong with us because God doesn't want us to experience pain.

This isn't true, for God Himself is in pain, and when we suffer, He brings us closer to Him. I have learned that sharing in sufferings and sorrows are the most important things for us to share. It has often been my wounds that have driven me closer to God; that is true healing. That is as we bow before God as our Lord in all things, He will use our wounds to bring us closer to Him. These simply are a part of life, and if I ignore them as I write, I ignore a great part of being human.
God is sovereign and will heal us as He sees to, when He sees fit to. If God wants to leave me wounded because it makes me depend upon Him more He will, and I will be better for it. Someday God will call us to Him, and He will not only mend our scars and cracks, but will make all things new. Until then, God will use these scars to bring us closer to Him. Paul knew what this meant. God left Him wounded with a thorn in the flesh. Three times, Paul prayed for God to remove it, but God did not. As Paul himself writes:

Because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, for this reason, to keep me from exalting myself, there was given me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me--to keep me from exalting myself!
Concerning this I implored the Lord three times that it might leave me.
And He has said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness " Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.
Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ's sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong.


Human weakness is the perfect platform for God's divine power to shine forth.

Christ understood this as well. As it was written of Him:


He was despised and forsaken of men,
A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;
And like one from whom men hide their face
He was despised, and we did not esteem Him.


Surely our griefs He Himself bore, and our sorrows He carried;
Yet we ourselves esteemed Him stricken,
Smitten of God, and afflicted.


But He was pierced through for our transgressions,
He was crushed for our iniquities;
The chastening for our well-being fell upon Him,
And by His scourging we are healed.

God used Christ's wounds to bring us closer to Him, to realize how desperately dependent we are to be upon Him at all times for all things. Nouwen continues, "When we become aware that we do not have to escape our pains, but that we can mobilize them into a common search for life, those very pains are transformed from expressions of despair into signs of hope"

"Into the Middle of the Storm, I AM"

"there’s nothing like the rain to make you feel alone

there’s nothing like loneliness to make you long for home
there’s something in the weather that leaves us broken men

to hold you like a storm, I am"

Eric Peters, Scarce

The last time I saw the sun was somewhere around 5:45pm.

The sun was soon swallowed as the clouds rushed upon us like a gathering of wolves.

I pushed the pedal over 80 in an attempt to make it back before the pack fell upon me.

Five miles beyond where I shot this is one of the steepest hills in the area. I figured the rain would hit just as I got over it, so I sped up.

Above the hill and beneath the storm. Just a couple of weeks ago, I took a very pleasant walk with Robyn and our dogs. We went for 8 miles, for three and a half hours. The setting sun painted an blazing orange sky, and to the side hung the crescent moon like a claw mark in the night's cloak. In the distance ahead of us was a thunderhead that stretched across the horizon where the lightning danced a dazzling waltz.

Tonight wouldn't be so serene.

I was lucky to see even this much through the windshield. Yes, I am aware of the dangers of taking photos while driving through an intense storm. The rain fell in patterns like drumrolls, and the thunder drowned out the stereo.

I slowed to 20mph and found myself singing "How Great Thou Art"

"...I hear the rolling thunder, Thou power throughout

The Universe displayed..."

And I wondered if I would find a cliff to shelter myself in like when Augustus Toplady was inspired to write "Rock of Ages"

"...As I soar to worlds unknown, see Thee on Thine Judgement Throne

Rock of Ages cleft for me,

Let me hide myself in Thee."

The view on the way back into town. I remembered last spring when I drove up to St. Louis for a meeting at the Francis Schaeffer institute and getting hammered by a storm then. It rained for an entire 24 hours straight, causing massive flooding throughout the area. I remember singing to myself:

"I know life is quite a ride,

There's someone at my side

For all the times

I can't drive.

When I feel like giving up, give me grace

Give me love, and it's all,

All I can do,

Is bring it back to you."

by Mike Schmid

Here we are back in the neighborhood. I was glad to be off the highway, and still sung to myself, glad to be off the highway.

It kept raining, but I didn't feel like sitting around all night, so what did I do? I ventured back into the storm. My dog Roxanne and I hiked out to Wet Weather Falls so I could take pictures. It eased up long enough for just to get out there.

"drenched in mercy and dripping holy tears

I’m dressed in kingly garments from my toes to my ears

it’s a holy embrace
it’s the feeling of grace
oh (it’s a holy embrace)
oh (it’s the feeling of grace)
oh (we cast all our doubts)
into the middle of the storm, I am"

Eric Peters: Scarce

The World Around You

I tried to chose my ten favorite pictures that I've taken with my mobile phone, but that was

just impossible. At last count, I've shot over 500.

I remember talking to Josh Reeves (who embodies sexiness, just ask Jonathan Poston) about these pictures. I told him,

"I just try to capture what's all ready there."

to which he responded, "True art!"

I also told Sherri Gerecke, a lot of times I don't know how these are going to turn out until I upload them.

Other than the first one being my favorite, these are in no particuar order.

Winter Light.

I imagine this is how the Lamps of Valinor looked in their full glory

"I love double rainbows!" Robyn Martin.

(Special thanks to Jordan Duncan for the heads up on the rainbow)

Roxanne

Wet Weather Falls

"The Glorious Ruins"

Lightning Strike

Night Drive

Lower pond of Juden Creek

Taken while stuck in road construction in Bollinger Co.

Waiting for the Light to Break

"

Does "No loitering" mean no taking pictures?

Perry Co. MO

Taken outside of Marble Hill

Shot outside of Sikeston, MO

Juden Creek between thunderstorms

Cape County North Park

Epic and Intimate

"When you look at the world What is it that you see? People find all kinds of things That bring them to their knees I see an expression So clear and so true That changes the atmosphere When you walk into the room"

U2--When I Look at the World

I see a different world than most do. I'm not sure why that is. For example, I don't see the silver lining in clouds, and least not any more. There's always tarnish on the silver lining, so I've looked beyond them. The clouds I see the are the snow-clad untread summits of undiscovered mountains that dwarf Olympus Mons, and are waiting for me to conquer them. Or perhaps they hide new worlds full of wonder and treasure.

Francis Schaeffer once wrote,

"...I look at the world because I understand that reality does not exist only between birth and death. A personal God acting in history that goes on forever. Not only does God care for His people throughout all time, He can also express His love for them no matter where they are located."

I've written before that I am inspired by the drama of human conflict. Everything from the

great battles of history, to mixed martial arts, when I watch a battle, my attention is riveted to

the struggle. Part of me wants to be in the trenches, or in the cage. I believe we're wired to want

to be involved in an epic adventure, where masses of men clash against each other to determine

the fate of the world. I've always wanted to write a story about armies marching against each other

with the fate of mankind hanging in the balance, and still take time to tuck in the intimate moments

between two characters.

Such stories have been told before, and will be told again.

Such as My favorite game, Chrono Trigger. Here a group of displaced heroes transcend time and

space to deliver the world from a horrible, firey, destruction. I remember how excited I was when

I fought the Battle of Zenan Bridge against the army of the Demon King to give the legendary hero

a chance to reforge the Masamune and storm the Demon King's castle. And there are other sweeping

battles as well against such monstrous foes as a Tyrano, the Dragon Tank, a gang of robots, and others.

Yet the scene I always love to play through over and over, is the most tender, intimate moment in the game.

(Here there be a spoiler)

My favorite book, not called the Bible is Toliken's Silmarillion, the back story of the

Lord of the Rings, in particular the tale of Beren and Luthien. He is a rogue mortal human

from a fallen kingdom. She is an immortal elven princess, described as the most beautiful

of Illuvatar's creations. In order for them to be together, they challenge an impossible quest

that armies and heroes have tried for ages to do and have been crushed.

They are challenged to go into Morgoth's (who is more or less the satan of MiddleEarth) keep and cut a

jewel off of his crown. Beren knows he's doomed, and does not want Luthien to suffer his fate.

Luthien loves him so deeply, she forsakes her immortal destiny to share his doom with him.

Their struggle effects the entirety of MiddleEarth for the rest of the age and the ages to come. I suppose the reason why I'm constantly captivated and why I’ve always wanted to write a story that is both epic and intimate, is because I believe epic and intimate reflect God’s love and character.

In Creation, God revealed his power by the sheer epic scope of it all. I used to love to lose myself in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Or the endless depths of space. I am addicted to the Astronomy Picture of the Day site, and love to spend hours on end rabbit trailing through the pictures of star clusters, nebulae, aurora, galaxies. supergiant clusters, and so much more that make me stop and pause.

If I were God, I'd be watching supernovae explode all day.

Even in the grand scope of creation, God's character was revealed when He created man

in His Image, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life and walked in the cool of

the day in the garden with him. Even more so when He fashioned woman from out of man.

This makes me all the more glad God is who He is, and I am who He has made me. How humbling is it that the God of the universe cares that much for me? The God who wrote history of the world, and has His hand upon every event is writing my personal history and has His hand upon me? The same God who raised the mountains, filled the oceans and fuels the stars walks beside me, not just now in this time, but to the very end of time and beyond.

The most epic battle I could write, or intimate moment does not compare to the stars and mountains.

Just a couple of months ago I drove back into town and saw the burning moon hung like a jewel in the night’s cloudy cloak that stood over the snow-dressed hills and thought, ‘How incredible.’ I’ve also come to appreciate and even long for the quiet moments between friends when the only thing that matters is the presence of what so dear, the intimacy. It’s made me realize how the love of God is both supremely epic and intimate. How God who created the universe and all it’s wonder, longs for those quiet moments with me, is nothing short of humbling. The battle fought for our lives and souls was nothing short of epic, and He fought it so we could have those quiet moments with us.

How can I not be enthralled? How can I not be moved? Even the most stirring epic with the tender moments folded in I could write is nothing but drabble compared to the beauty of the cross. There the epic power of God and the intimate love for His creation come together to paint the most vivid portrait and eloquent tale of love and grace imaginable

Dr. Schaeffer continues, “As a person looks back to God’s actions in history, and makes this his own personal environment, then have a positive reaction in this existential moment as God’s child, he can raise his and personal confidence, this is the walk of the Christian. Why does the boy out hiking with his father reach out his hand when they come to a slippery place? He does it because in the past his father faithfully taken his hand as they have walked over the slippery trails together. This portrays the Christian walk with God and the portrait is beautiful.”

“ I raise my hand to my Father in personal relationship and then walk with Him hand in hand.”

Unrecorded Songs

Distant

I know the deepest secret of

The Distant, waiting night.

The mystery of the endless depths

And their countless stars,

They are carrying you

carrying you

carrying you to me

I can see you in The Untread Horizon

of the Distant Earth.

As I journey on with my father's sword

And my mother's heart

I am searching for you

Searching for you

Searching for you

Somewhere in the Great Unknown

in the Half Light of Morning Haze

We will see, the colors unfold

At the Dawning of our days

You and I we will soar beyond

On to that distant shore

Where the shadows no longer bind

And fears they cannot find

To a world without end

World without end

World without end

Copywrite Aaron PICAR 2008

Few things...

Last night I walked amid the dazzling firefly trees in the sweltering evening. Tonight, I'm in the hospital.

More on that later.

It's been an eventful week, in fact all of my weeks are eventful. I've been wondering what it would be like to live a normal life. I find the thought of climbing the corporate ladder nothing short of mortifyingly boring. Miguel Angel Torres, World Extreme Cagefighting Bantamweight Champion of the World once said, "You can't be world class in anything and live a normal life."

I'd hardly consider myself a world class anything, but then again, I think the normal life is kinda like dark matter out in space, though I think we'll find dark matter before anyone finds the normal life.

Last week, I helped one of my clients/students look for a job. I've helped others pass classes, plan for their future, got ones lights turned on, and whatever other needs arise in growing up. There are few things that make one feel great than helping those who cannot help themselves. I've realized Im incredibly blessed that I've been able to make a living out of helping people. By helping others see their undiscovered potential, we come closer to fulfilling our own. And I say all this not to stroke myself on the back and say, "look how great I am," but I've come to realize I need a great deal of grace to do what I'm supposed to.

I have a client load of 50, and providing substantial services for each every single month is quite frankly impossible, especially as I was working three jobs for the better part of last semester. So the folks at the state have me under a lot of pressure to help my people out. Hopefully they'll get me help rather than take my people away.

On the way back from one of my work sites, I stopped by the Stars and Stripes Museum in Bloomfield, MO. The Stars and Stripes was started by a group of Union soldiers who happened work in the newspaper field, found an unused press and decided to publish a paper for the GIs.

It's still in print today.

(The Museum is behind the barn)

Few things will humble one than realizing the sacrifices that were made so we can enjoy the lives we have. My grandfather fought in World War II. He was a full bird colonel and they gave him a star when he retired. I can't imagine what it would have been like to have been in the Philippines after MacArthur surrendered and to have held out and fought until he fulfilled his promise to return.

I thought this photo was particularly profound

This was said by 2nd. Lt George Kenton Sisler in 1962, in his last recorded letter. He died shortly after and was posthumously awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor. I am very grateful I don't have to experience what he or my grandfather experienced. My parents came over in 1970, and I don't know where there is another country in the world where one can create a new life like here in America.

I've often wondered in conversation why I was born in America in this age, and not somewhere else, in another time. As I watch the world, I'm constantly amazed by what goes on.

Today, here, we can gaze into the wonders of creation

This is the Hubble Deep Ultra Deep Field. It represents less than one billionth of the universe.

We can see this, yet at the same time, I was watching people half way around the world die on youtube not minutes after they were killed.

I've been following the Iranian Election and subsequent revolution. 70% of their population is under 30, and I'm receiving the news and images and videos of what's going on as fast, in some cases faster than the news media does. It's incredible how youtube, facebook, and twitter, which we use for entertainment, others are using for survival.

We bare witness history unfolding before us in it's unrelenting march. These people are fighting and dying for the rights so many here take for granted. I don't know if I have the courage my grandfather, Lt. Sisler, or these people do. I don't know if I could face the hardships my students have had to face.

I'm grateful I haven't had to.

I read in Iran the hospitals aren't safe. Many wounded revolutionaries are disappearing from the hospitals. I'm grateful I can sleep tonight in mine.

Tonight, I'm getting tested for sleep apnea. I'll be surprised if I don't have it.

The Bed

The Table

The sensors. Some of them.

Before

Can you guess where these go?

When I started this blog, things were at a professional and personal high for me, with me having released my CD as well as had the best jobs and made the most money I've made. Now, there's a lot of things that can happen that I have no control over. That's all right, it's not up to me.

As my friend Jon Black sings, "Maybe the future is not in my hands. Maybe, it won't go down just as I planned. But this whisper inside of me says, to life your head.

It all serves as a reminder, my security, significance, purpose, identity, are not found in my job title, or paycheck, or the time and place I'm living but in the sovereignty of God.