These are the people I hold in my hands on a constant basis.

While I was in Africa, God put an idea for a painting in my head, which is the first painting that I'll post. This idea for one painting then turned into more ideas, for more paintings.

In working with the issue of HIV and AIDS, I saw that God is wanting to do something in regards to this issue. And he is putting it on the hearts of his people to do something.

He has put it on my heart to portray the message of restoration that he longs so deeply to speak into the hearts of these people. People with HIV. People with AIDS. People that God loves just as much as he loves you; as much as he loves me.

There is a hope for HIV and AIDS in our world, and that hope is Jesus Christ. These paintings are meant to speak something of that.

But even more so, I'm thinking that these paintings also have a bit to say about the ways in which God has made a way for all of us, (with or without AIDS,) to come before his throne. To Run to him. To kiss his feet. To worship him. In this there is restoration, and in this there is life, of the eternal sort.

I would have wasted away long ago without such a hope.

Out of my element? Yes, I think so, but I'm in a place where that can be ok.

Things are wild lately. I see that in the next two to three months there is the potential for my life to become drastically different. Not that this is bad. I’m excited for whatever change may come; I just don’t know what form the change is going to take. I’m not sure that I even know what form I want it to take.

I can’t run away from the need I have to grow my faith.

I do believe, but help me not to doubt.

My heart has been full of ideas lately - ideas that excite my heart for the world. But I think they are things that require a spoonful of patience, to put things in Mary Poppins’ terms. Things that require me right now to do things like going to the registrar, where I could very likely be hornswaggled into some sort of University Code for Transcript Retrieval. Things that require me to scrape burnt cheese off of multiple white dishes. Things that require me to climb up wobbly ladders to uncomfortable heights. Things that are worth it for the sake of pursuing the oftentimes foggy but intriguing visions that he is drawing on my mind.

A Prolonged Return to the Beautiful, but Distant State that is Washington.

Let's just say that the Midwest treated me as her friend. And by saying that the Midwest treated me as her friend, I mean to say that I follow an amazing God. A God that could grow a relationship that had continents and ocean and time in between.

Chicago is a fun place, but even more so is Berkeley. Though I often struggled with the high rate of yard-sport proficiency that appeared to be so engrained into the genes of many Midwesterners,

…

Berkeley is also the place where they make World Dryers, the things that dry your hands in many-a-public lavatories.

Dear Midwest, I hope you treat me kindly.

So, just FYI, if you're ever in Seattle/Tacoma International Airport at 5 am, don't even worry about going to Starbucks, the line is the size of a large anaconda.

So I sit here at Tully's. Drip Coffee and a Scone.

I slept for about two hours last night, because I am a weirdo.

But soon I embark on a journey to Chicago. For some reason that requires a quick jaunt to Dallas. Why? Because I buy tickets on travelocity.

Ten Dollars, Presidential Debates...and "Possible" Genocide.

As I was transporting dishes, from being cleaned, back to their homes, I was asked an interesting question:

Is Ten Dollars a lot of money to you?"

Confusingly stumbling over my words, I tried to explain that ten dollars was a fair amount of money. I wasn't really sure how to put it in the context of a lot or a little. I hate being wishy-washy.

10 i-tunes; A smidgin over an hour's wages

Then I remembered Mozambique. Ten Dollars goes a lot further there.

Enough water for 10 years; 260 pieces of bread; 40 pineapples

And I don't say this to convict any of you, because when I look at myself, I realize that I surely don't look at 10 dollars for what it is. I don't know if it is even fair to compare the two situations. In the very least, I hope I can look at this and remember what they go through on a regular basis.

They fish. They play with my used Fanta can. They eat rice everyday. They die from diseases of which they have no solid understanding. They adhere to religions they don't care about. They dance. They sing. They hurt. They could buy water for less than ten cents a month, but cannot always afford it.

And I question the value of money.

//

I am currently planning a showing of Photographs from, and Art inspired by this most recent trip to Mozambique. I’ve set up a tentative date in my mind for Sunday, July 22nd, in the foyer of the church that is Ellensburg Christian and Missionary Alliance. I’ll make some announcements when this date is solidified.


Above: A slight flavor-taste of painting #1. This is just a small portion of the entire painting #1.


I plan on selling the photographs and paintings. I’ve never sold art. God has placed it on my heart to give a significant portion of any proceeds back to the Mozambicans. I’m in the process of finding a Christian Organization that is working with HIV and AIDS in Quelimane, the city where my team and I spent most of our time in Mozambique.

In the meantime, I need to find some synthetic fur to make some synthetic zebra stripes.

//

I watched some of the Presidential Debates tonight. I was intrigued.

I don’t know who makes the questions for these shows, but I was scared to see that whoever does make the questions still questions whether or not the Genocide in Darfur is really Genocide.

I’m comforted by the fact that the course of our country, the course of our world, is not in the hands of politicians or kings or rebellious/brainwashed militiamen, all of whom are just as much in need of grace as I; things are in God’s hands, and his hands are giant. Read Colossians 1. More precisely verse 16.

Let’s pray.

Black and White African Horsies.

Romans 5:14-15 reads, "...What a contrast between Adam and Christ, who was yet to come! 15 And what a difference between our sin and God's generous gift of forgiveness." (NLT)

This is turn causes me to think about zebras. And their stripes. I like the look of zebra stripes. Very fashionable, though I certainly don't condone the skinning of these beautiful aminals. Screen-printed zebra stripes are much more efficient. But beyond fashion, I really think there is something pretty about their stripes.

A message of salvation that our sovereign God has worked even into the nice little aminals that he created.

Yes, I meant to spell it aminals.

I don't say this to come across as someone who's trying to fend off evolution - I don't think that needs to be the issue. But rather, I see this as just another reason to be flabbergasted at God. Obviously he is infinitely complex, but to stylistically work his message - contrasting our black blot of sin with his gift that turns us white as snow through faith in Jesus Christ- into creation, is pretty neat, keen, fun, (insert nerdy adjective here).

We may see this working itself out in an untitled painting #3. More news on this later.

5:17 goes on to say, "The sin of this one man, Adam, caused death to rule over us, but all who recieve God's wonderful, gracious gift of righteousness will live in triumph over sin and death through this one man, Jesus Christ." Quite astonishing when you recall that the author of this passage was a former Christian-Killer.

An inconsistant blogger...

So I realize I would like to make blogging more of a priority. But I get confused, very confused.

But this is where I am. Pero aqui es donde estoy.

I want to love Jesus more. Even if I do love him some, I want to love him more. More than dollars. More than fancy electronic devices. More than a cup of coffee. More than paintbrushes. More than the life that I continue to find baffling a bit more every day.

The love, the abundance of love that has been poured out on me. This precious red liquid flowed out of his hands and now somehow rests, amongst other things, over Tim Dyk.

Lord teach me to live. But first, teach me to love. You.