Is this the journey of life? It might just well be that.
Signing off for now...
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
The Crush
It's a funny thing about the best wine. The story of the grapes that make it is interesting. Grapes destined to make great wine are not planted in the most fertile areas. They are not fertilized. They, in fact, are intentionally stressed; denied access to water. Given enough to keep them alive, yes. Enough to stay healthy. But not instant and easy access.
You see, if the grapes don't work to ripen, they develop no character. Given all the water, fertilizer, and great earth they can handle, they get fat and watery, a very thin shadow of what they could be. The juice is diluted. The vintner loves his grapes, but he sees the potential of what is to come, not lavishing them in their youth. It is here that the foundation of a truly great wine is made.
Once the grapes become all they can be, they have struggled to hit optimum ripeness, they get picked. The hard life a grape continues. They get destemmed, taking away the parts that still hang on and contribute nothing but bitterness. Now you have beautiful, ripe grapes, ready to be made into wine.
But then comes the crush. Just when you think the grapes look pretty good, they get crushed. Put through a violent process of turning them into something even better. Here to is a difference between fine wine grapes and stuff given to jug wine.
The crush is kinda the end for the jug wine grape- In the hands of a vintner who doesn't really care about the final product, just wants to get a product on the shelf to intoxicate the masses, the crush is a necessary step to create alcohol. Nothing magical happens after the crush, just fermented, bottled and sold. Ah, but in the hands of a careful, loving vintner, this is where true metamorphasis occurs. The crush is a crucial part of extracting the essence of the fruit; all the labor that occured in the vineyard, the pruning, the painstaking watering, making sure just the right amount was given, the careful harvesting by hand, destemming, and even the crush, happened for this. The lifeblood of the fruit is spilled, given for a purpose. The vintner lets his work, and the work the grapes have done, start to come together. Giving his juice the perfect conditions, he watches as the sugar is converted. He tastes as the grape juice blooms into something more; that very lifeblood of the grape develops character, depth, and personality. He adds just the right touch when necessary; raises or lowers the temperature, puts the wine in oak to develop more character, even structure; let's it age to become perfect. You see, in grapes worked by a master, the unique character of the grape is allowed to shine, once honed and transformed under the careful care of the winemaker, but all the while bearing the unmistakable signature of the master who created it. The final product, the result of much work, patience, and pain, was worth the effort.
What a metaphor for life.
Anyway, signing off for now...
You see, if the grapes don't work to ripen, they develop no character. Given all the water, fertilizer, and great earth they can handle, they get fat and watery, a very thin shadow of what they could be. The juice is diluted. The vintner loves his grapes, but he sees the potential of what is to come, not lavishing them in their youth. It is here that the foundation of a truly great wine is made.
Once the grapes become all they can be, they have struggled to hit optimum ripeness, they get picked. The hard life a grape continues. They get destemmed, taking away the parts that still hang on and contribute nothing but bitterness. Now you have beautiful, ripe grapes, ready to be made into wine.
But then comes the crush. Just when you think the grapes look pretty good, they get crushed. Put through a violent process of turning them into something even better. Here to is a difference between fine wine grapes and stuff given to jug wine.
The crush is kinda the end for the jug wine grape- In the hands of a vintner who doesn't really care about the final product, just wants to get a product on the shelf to intoxicate the masses, the crush is a necessary step to create alcohol. Nothing magical happens after the crush, just fermented, bottled and sold. Ah, but in the hands of a careful, loving vintner, this is where true metamorphasis occurs. The crush is a crucial part of extracting the essence of the fruit; all the labor that occured in the vineyard, the pruning, the painstaking watering, making sure just the right amount was given, the careful harvesting by hand, destemming, and even the crush, happened for this. The lifeblood of the fruit is spilled, given for a purpose. The vintner lets his work, and the work the grapes have done, start to come together. Giving his juice the perfect conditions, he watches as the sugar is converted. He tastes as the grape juice blooms into something more; that very lifeblood of the grape develops character, depth, and personality. He adds just the right touch when necessary; raises or lowers the temperature, puts the wine in oak to develop more character, even structure; let's it age to become perfect. You see, in grapes worked by a master, the unique character of the grape is allowed to shine, once honed and transformed under the careful care of the winemaker, but all the while bearing the unmistakable signature of the master who created it. The final product, the result of much work, patience, and pain, was worth the effort.
What a metaphor for life.
Anyway, signing off for now...
Sunday, August 9, 2009
I should be sleeping...
Major case of insomnia tonight...don't really know why. It could be the triple caramel machiatto I had at 9, but caffeine usually doesn't effect me much...must be getting old. Could also be I slept until 10:30 am (!) this morning, so my bod thinks it's quite a bit earlier than it is. I don't know. So I went to Denny's. at 11:55. PM. Interesting crowd. A mix of drunks, teens, and gothic-types. Sometimes all in the same person.
Since I do have church tomorrow, I am kinda thinking about what the purpose of church is. Is it evangelical? Is it instructional? Or is it relational? I am leaning toward the latter...I really think the purpose of a church is to be a vehicle for the forging of Christian relationships. However, I am very relational, so that could very well be a function of my bias. Also, what should the structure be? Should it be highly organized, with lots of paid staff, or loosely, functioning mostly on volunteers. What kind of programs? If any? Youth groups, or should the families stay together? And another big question- tithes, or not? I have been trying to figure that one out...lots of people seem to be abandoning the tithe model altogether...I'm not there yet, but certainly the arguments have merit. What about pastors/eldership? How should that dynamic work? Women as pastors? ( I must admit, scripture both new and old testaments seem pretty clear on that one) What should the function of the pastor be? I don't know...out loud musings in my insomniac state...
Paintball, though in about 12 hours. Excited for that one. Not too hot, a nice drizzle, hopefully not too many welts.
Anyway, signing off for now...
Since I do have church tomorrow, I am kinda thinking about what the purpose of church is. Is it evangelical? Is it instructional? Or is it relational? I am leaning toward the latter...I really think the purpose of a church is to be a vehicle for the forging of Christian relationships. However, I am very relational, so that could very well be a function of my bias. Also, what should the structure be? Should it be highly organized, with lots of paid staff, or loosely, functioning mostly on volunteers. What kind of programs? If any? Youth groups, or should the families stay together? And another big question- tithes, or not? I have been trying to figure that one out...lots of people seem to be abandoning the tithe model altogether...I'm not there yet, but certainly the arguments have merit. What about pastors/eldership? How should that dynamic work? Women as pastors? ( I must admit, scripture both new and old testaments seem pretty clear on that one) What should the function of the pastor be? I don't know...out loud musings in my insomniac state...
Paintball, though in about 12 hours. Excited for that one. Not too hot, a nice drizzle, hopefully not too many welts.
Anyway, signing off for now...
Monday, August 3, 2009
May you live every day of your life
I saw this quote by Irish essayist Jonathan Swift today. (Leave it to the Irish to come up with such cool words) What a great quote. I am going to try to live up to that. I guess that begs the question, what is living? For everyone, the answer is obviously different. But what does that mean to me? I don't think I know, not yet. But I have an idea.
As a follower of Christ, people are the most important thing. So true living must include showing love, appreciation, and respect for those around us. I can't fathom at all the attractions of being a hermit (well, not usually). As the scripture says, "Greater love has no man than this; to lay down his life for his friends." I guess that quote takes Mr. Swift's one step further. To lay down one's life for his friend is the ultimate act of servanthood, thus the ultimate act of living. What, you may ask? You should lay down your life for your wife, husband, kids. And the answer is obviously yes. But is that servanthood? More like obligation. We are obligated to those things for our families...but true servanthood goes beyond obligation. Servanthood is living your life to it's fullest Christ-designed purpose.
Well, I think I followed a little mental rabbit trail there...just thinking outloud on my keyboard.
Beyond the very spiritual application of this quote, I really do want to live every day. Whether that is making a meaningful connection with a friend; enjoying the presence of God in a quiet moment; or standing on top of a mountain, admiring a view most people will never even attempt to see.
Spent some good time living today...paintball with most of my best friends, good food, a few welts, some good adrenaline rushes. What might tomorrow bring? Hopefully more living, not just existing. Signing off for now...
As a follower of Christ, people are the most important thing. So true living must include showing love, appreciation, and respect for those around us. I can't fathom at all the attractions of being a hermit (well, not usually). As the scripture says, "Greater love has no man than this; to lay down his life for his friends." I guess that quote takes Mr. Swift's one step further. To lay down one's life for his friend is the ultimate act of servanthood, thus the ultimate act of living. What, you may ask? You should lay down your life for your wife, husband, kids. And the answer is obviously yes. But is that servanthood? More like obligation. We are obligated to those things for our families...but true servanthood goes beyond obligation. Servanthood is living your life to it's fullest Christ-designed purpose.
Well, I think I followed a little mental rabbit trail there...just thinking outloud on my keyboard.
Beyond the very spiritual application of this quote, I really do want to live every day. Whether that is making a meaningful connection with a friend; enjoying the presence of God in a quiet moment; or standing on top of a mountain, admiring a view most people will never even attempt to see.
Spent some good time living today...paintball with most of my best friends, good food, a few welts, some good adrenaline rushes. What might tomorrow bring? Hopefully more living, not just existing. Signing off for now...
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Dreaming with a Broken Heart
Sometimes it's tough not to wonder if life maybe passing me by...I just returned from dinner with some good friends, actually my best friend, and on the ride home it was hard not to think that. I got dropped off at my lovely little apartment, (no sarcasm) but nothing here but John Mayer music on You Tube and a glass of cabernet for company. I'm not depressed, not at all. Maybe a bit melancholy, but not depressed. (Although right now Dreaming with a Broken Heart just came on, and I feel like I'm in a movie...you know, blogging, drinking wine, and listening to sad music) =) Anyway, I get dropped off, and the rest of my buddies go home to/with their fams...hmm. I am much too blessed to be depressed, though. I really have the best friends a guy could ask for, great parents, and a Saviour who loves me. (Not to mention a new paintball gun)
It's an equal share sometimes, I feel like getting married, settling down, and having little O-Trains run around. It's not like I haven't tried, just the unfortunate luck of the girls I've loved (not many, fyi, lol) didn't love me back. That's fine...life happens. And sometimes, I feel like a caged tiger whose cage has grown too small. I want to pick up, move to Africa, and be a correspondent for National Geographic, or hunt down buttholes who trade child slaves in Sudan, or sit at a cafe in Dakar and write the next great novel. I can't put my finger on this restlessness. I think God wants me to figure it out, though. I've asked alot, but get no solid answers. That's ok. He doesn't owe me anything. (If anyone tells me to read that Wild at Heart book, I'll probably shoot you with my paintball gun) I'm sure it's excellent, but I feel like this is between me and God, and those who care about me. There will be a place and time to read self-help lit...just not now I think.
Anyway, signing off for now.
It's an equal share sometimes, I feel like getting married, settling down, and having little O-Trains run around. It's not like I haven't tried, just the unfortunate luck of the girls I've loved (not many, fyi, lol) didn't love me back. That's fine...life happens. And sometimes, I feel like a caged tiger whose cage has grown too small. I want to pick up, move to Africa, and be a correspondent for National Geographic, or hunt down buttholes who trade child slaves in Sudan, or sit at a cafe in Dakar and write the next great novel. I can't put my finger on this restlessness. I think God wants me to figure it out, though. I've asked alot, but get no solid answers. That's ok. He doesn't owe me anything. (If anyone tells me to read that Wild at Heart book, I'll probably shoot you with my paintball gun) I'm sure it's excellent, but I feel like this is between me and God, and those who care about me. There will be a place and time to read self-help lit...just not now I think.
Anyway, signing off for now.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Hind end kicked
First, let me begin by saying I have never thought of myself as much of a sissy. I have climbed 10,000 foot volcanoes, backpacked the Grand Canyon, watched as a doctor re-set my broken finger, etc. etc. etc. People were always telling me to slow down. Don't hike so fast. So I am blaming my utter lack of strength on this backpacking trip to getting older.
Yeah, Lyman Lake kicked my out of shape rear end. The last mile was torturous. My legs cramped up, and the final half mile I had to employ the use of a benevolent sherpa. (thanks, roach!) I actually fell. Without my pack on. Man, it's time to whip this sorry keester back into shape. And not try to keep up with kids 10 years my junior. Chase and Phil. The first 4 miles I did fine. It was all uphill from there.
Anyway, what a glorious trip! The scenery was fantastic. The weather was great. The mosquitoes, however, were awful. Try this trip in September. The larches would be beautiful, and the mossies, dead. View pics at www.picasaweb.google.com/shawnroneill/LymanLakes
Yeah, Lyman Lake kicked my out of shape rear end. The last mile was torturous. My legs cramped up, and the final half mile I had to employ the use of a benevolent sherpa. (thanks, roach!) I actually fell. Without my pack on. Man, it's time to whip this sorry keester back into shape. And not try to keep up with kids 10 years my junior. Chase and Phil. The first 4 miles I did fine. It was all uphill from there.
Anyway, what a glorious trip! The scenery was fantastic. The weather was great. The mosquitoes, however, were awful. Try this trip in September. The larches would be beautiful, and the mossies, dead. View pics at www.picasaweb.google.com/shawnroneill/LymanLakes
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Anticipation
Is the wanting as good as the getting? In my experience, I have always received mixed results to that question. Tomorrow I leave on a backpacking trip to the North Cascades. Been looking forward to this trip for the better part of the year now. I have vacation insomnia. The weather is supposed to be great. The terrain stunning. The company couldn't be better. (Well, except if Charlize Theron was going, but, alas, this is a guys only trip so I couldn't invite her) So the anticipation level is high. There is something profound and pioneering, and possibly a bit insane, about carrying everything you need on your back, to some remote spot on a map, homestead a plot of dirt (read: rocky, uneven, sharp, poking ground from Hades) with a tent, and call it home for a few days. The mountains: Those high, forbidding, yet beckoning spires of stone and ice that say "come". Or at least now they do, now the we have polypropylene, polargard, gore tex, nalgene. I'm sure our predecessors, who were probably smarter, avoided them like Cynthia Rodriguez avoids Madonna concerts. What prompts us to go? I don't have a clue. I like to take pictures. I like the silence. Deep down, I want to be Indiana Jones, or Lewis and Clark. Or at least that 12 year old part that's left does. And this is the closest I'll be to fulfilling that childhood dream. Most of all, though, I like conversation. Conversations that don't happen regularly. Conversations that are born of spending hours with buddies with nothing else to do but stare at cool stuff and talk. When you spend time talking, really picking the brains of your friends, you'll probably decide as I have that people are pretty cool, and, holy heck, I'm a pretty lucky dude. I also like to wonder at that cool stuff. Why is the lake so blue? Why is that one green? Are these Mountain Hemlock or Subalpine fir? Why, oh why is Jose Vidro BATTING CLEANUP!!???? CAN ANY RATIONAL PERSON TELL ME THIS?!? Sorry, got off base. So I am eagerly awaiting. Awaiting the silence. Awaiting being 12 again for a fleeting moment. Awaiting feeling like Indiana Jones. Awaiting the majesty of a lake so blue it will numb the mind. Awaiting getting to know my friends just that much better, and feeling lucky to be me.
Shawn
Shawn
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