11 Simple Truths.

Bill Gates recently gave a speech at a High School about eleven things they did not and will not learn in school. He talks about how feel-good, politically correct teachings created a generation of kids with no concept of reality and how this concept set them up for failure in the real world.


Life's 11 rules, according to Bill Gates
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Rule 1 : Life is not fair - get used to it!

Rule 2 : The world doesn't care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.

Rule 3 : You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You won't be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.

Rule 4 : If you think your teacher is tough, wait until you get a boss.

Rule 5 : Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your Grandparents had a different word for burger flipping: They called it opportunity.

Rule 6 : If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault, so don't whine about your mistakes, learn from them.

Rule 7 : Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were: So before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent's generation, try delousing the closet in your own room..

Rule 8 : Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they'll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. *This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.

Rule 9 : Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. *Do that on your own time.

Rule 10 : Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.

Rule 11 : Be nice to nerds; chances are you'll end up working for one.



If you can read this... Thank a Teacher.

Pretending.

When we were little kids, we used to play games and "pretend". We could be anything we wanted to be at that exact moment in time; we could be astronauts, firemen, ballerinas, sports stars, or whatever. Now that I'm older, I realize that playing pretend has been nothing but detrimental in my life.


I'm tired of pretending to like everyone I meet.

I'm tired of pretending to put myself wholly into a friendship that gives nothing back.

I'm tired of pretending like I understand things.

I'm tired of pretending I'm happy all the time when I'm really very, very lonely.


I guess I'm just tired.

More Than A Building.

At first glance, this may look like just a building.

It is SO much more than that.

To me, this "building" is the home of my school. This "building" is one of my favorite places on earth, and that's saying something. I've seen waves beat against the shoreline of the Pacific; I've seen freighters pull into Puget Sound with the Seattle skyline as a backdrop; I've seen vast, golden-brown stretches of desert through southern Idaho; I've seen the California highlands, stretching on like a flat plane for mile after mile; I've seen majestic peaks rise sharply from the Wyoming sagebrush. I've seen the land that my forefathers have walked, worked and lived on; the land where my family pioneered its way into American history as the first permanent settlers of Jackson's Hole. But none of these places captured a personal meaning to me quite as much as this building has.

I had graduated from high school in the fall of 2006 and taken a term at a local community college before deciding that it was not for me. I worked for awhile at a seasonal position before being let go right at the end of 2007. At the beginning of 2008, my life was in a sort of turmoil. I had lost my job, had gotten a major rejection from (what I thought was) the girl of my dreams, and was basically at a dead end in the road. Fortunately, I had God on my side and was more committed to Him then ever before and luckily, with God, there is no dead end in the road. :) I prayed for several weeks about what I should do next in my life, and on a blustery day in the middle of February, God gave me the answer.

"Go to Salem Bible College."

That's all he said.

Go to Salem Bible College.

His answer was simple -- and, being like most every other person I've ever met, I didn't want to accept it. But, I did.

When I started at SBC, it was the fall of 2008 and I was 20 years old. Salem Bible College was just a small private institution. They didn't have dorm rooms for their students or even a multi-function library. There were 30 students in the entire school. And as bad as it seems, the thing I was the most concerned about was financial aid. The college didn't have it. At all. My cost for a full year of tuition for three terms of school was just a shade over $3500. I knew that once I registered for classes, I wouldn't be able to pay the balance. Coming from a family that was (and still is) poor, the idea of owing so much money was a complete travesty to me. But I registered anyway. I registered because I knew God wanted me at Salem Bible College. Since then, I have never looked back.

Fast forward to Spring, 2010. A lot has happened at Salem Bible College in 2 years. We have merged with a much larger university from Washington state -- Northwest University. They move us to a much larger building. We get full library space, with over 4000 volumes. We get dorm rooms for 16 students. We are now eligible for financial aid, and have been since the school merged in 2009. Then, Northwest decides to drop a bomb on my hopes and dreams: unless I pay off my student account in full, I will not be able to register for fall classes, or for any subsequent term until my balance is zero. My account balance at that time was slightly over $2000. A far cry from the $3500 I started out paying, but still an insurmountable goal -- or so I thought.

Fast forward with me, once more, to today. It has been over a year since I've set foot into a classroom as a student at Salem Bible College. God has taught me a lot in the past year that I wasn't in school. He's taught me about patience. Oh Lord, have I learned patience!...He's taught me about trusting Him for complete provision, and what it means to follow Him.

I am pleased to announce that as of 4:30 PM yesterday, after more than 3 years and $3500, I am completely debt-free from this institution. I now have a complete zero balance with Northwest University, and I WILL BE RETURNING TO SCHOOL AT SALEM BIBLE COLLEGE THIS FALL!!! There is no way to tell how excited I am about this. I know that my year out of school has been good, in a way. Although it left me hurting because I wanted so badly to be learning, I know that God had a reason for having me miss this past year of school. I can't wait until I set foot into the classroom again, to be learning from God's word one more time.

Take a look at the picture at the top of this page again. Salem Bible College is NOT just a building. Not to me. It is a representation of perseverance, of faith, and trust in God's plan. It is a representation of my human spirit. To understand where you are going, you have to understand where you have been.

This building is where I have been.
This story is how I got here.
This college will shape who I become.

Where have YOU been? How did YOU get here? Who are YOU?

Take a step of faith today and let God show you the answers.

Composing.

I have really began to doubt my effectiveness as a musician, so I have recently decided it is definitely time for me to get back to composing. There was a time in my life that I'd write a piece a day; it didn't matter if it was a full-fledged piece or just simply a musical idea, I wrote it down anyway. I haven't done this in almost a year, maybe more. How will I be an effective music teacher if I've lost the joy that I used to find in music? I used to be able to experience music on a much deeper level than most people; There are a lot of days that go by now that I don't listen to music at all. This scares me. In order to be a truly good music teacher, you need to be able to convey the feelings and thoughts of the composer in the closest way possible to the original idea. I really hope that I can get back to putting my ideas down on paper and get back to the joy of music.

A prayer.

Father God,

You know my heart. You know my need for love, my need to love others, my need for companionship. Why do you not answer me when I cry out to you for someone to love? For someone to love me that way? Why do you not answer my call when I cry out for this love? It makes my heart ache. Colors become fuzzy and everything is shapeless. Nothing in my world brings me joy anymore. Your Word says in Genesis 2:18 that it is not good for man to be alone. Why do you not send me someone? You know my heart is ready for marriage. I am ready to love your creation. Please send it to me, Lord. Make this pain that I feel each and every day go away. Send someone who will love me as you do, Lord.

Amen.

An open-ended letter.

I've always been better at writing than I have at speaking. I don't know whether it's an inherent trait, or if it's something I've just picked up as part of my personality over my lifetime. I've always found it easier to clearly express exactly what I'm thinking if I write it out. With that being said, this open ended letter says what I cannot say out loud.


To the person whom this is written:
You know who you are.

I've never been good at these kinds of things. Sometimes I don't know why I speak before I think. Too often, I do. It gets me in to tumultuous situations such as this. I've done it again this time.

Now don't get me wrong. I am interested in you, as a friend. But I think that all this time I've been trying to push the interest to something more than a friend, when I've known all along in my heart of hearts that it was never meant to be more than that. This whole time, I've been lying to myself. I never meant to hurt you, or to make you cry. I hope that I haven't done either of these things, or that I never will. But I just don't see this going anywhere, and I'd be kidding myself if I tried to continue this relationship romantically.

Everything I ever said to you was the truth. I do think you're beautiful. I think you're an amazing person. I just don't think you're the person for me. Perhaps musical artist Michael Tait said it best:

"What I wanted to say
Never came out the way
I wanted it to,

What I wanted to say
Only got in the way,
I never meant to hurt you,
But I didn't have a clue.

I hope that a time will come when you can forgive me for being such a coward and a horrible person. If and when it does, I still want to be your friend. But, if you don't want me in your life, I will understand.

I'm so sorry.

I'm so tired.

"I'm going to say what I really mean this time,
I don't need you around to speak my mind."
~Popple~


I'm not much the type to complain. Where other people complain about their circumstances or let jealousy, lust and lies run rampant in their lives, I've never really had a serious problem with any of that. But sometimes, it is good to let everything out. To complain. To gripe. To piss and moan. This is one of those times.

Neatly put, I am tired.


I'm tired of people who skate by on life doing the absolute minimum and continually get away with it, while I bust my backside to keep my head above water.

I'm tired of being out of school. Some of my classmates that are in school continuously complain about having to go to class, about having to do homework, and write papers. You know what? You're lucky. You GET to go to school, you GET to do homework to further educate yourselves, you GET to write papers to increase your understanding of the subjects you're supposed to be learning. So quit complaining, get off your lazy backsides and take pride in your education. There are many of us that would be more than willing to take your place if you can't get off your duff and make the mark.

I'm tired of my best friend being a showoff. You have a fiance. You're getting married in less than a month. That's GREAT. I am really happy for you, and happy that you've found the person you think you want to spend the rest of your life with. That's awesome. But do you really have to sit there and make out with your fiance in front of me, even though we've talked about the situation and how uncomfortable it makes me feel? I know you're doing it to make me mad; it's only so obvious when you lay one on her and then pointedly look at me directly afterwords. Grow up, and for God's sake, learn some self-control.

I'm tired of having to step up and take responsibility where other people have dropped the slack. It must be nice to skate by on the coattails of other people while they do your work for you. I wouldn't know; I've never had that opportunity, since I've always been busting my back. I am the epitome of a self-made man. I haven't had any help from anyone on this earth. Together, God and I have pressed forward to forge all the trails in my life. I've never had a free ride.

I'm sick and tired of being single, and I'm sick and tired of being lonely. I'm not a bad guy. I see all these people around me who are complete douchebags getting nice girls as their girlfriends. What is that about? Why won't girls give a halfway decent guy a chance? Somebody that isn't going to cheat on them, or drink, or do drugs, or womanize them. A guy that will be concerned for them; will laugh with them, will cry with them, a guy that isn't too much of a tough guy to hold her and tell her she'll be ok, but isn't such a pansy that he won't stand up for her in a fight.

I'm tired of complaining; I'll see you all again in the distant future when I have the desire for another outburst such as this.

We are Columbine.

April 20, 1999 -- Imagine a crowded high school cafeteria. Students everywhere are eating their lunches, studying for tests and spending time with their friends. As they did so, two seniors calmly walked into their school at the peak of lunch hour armed with guns and opened fire on their classmates.

This was Columbine.

I've recently finished David Cullen's book entitled "Columbine". "In this remarkable account of the Columbine High School shooting, Cullen not only dispels several of the prevailing myths about the event but tackles the hardest question of all: why did it happen?

After reading this book, it would be easy for me to say that I read it completely objectively without taking sides, without coming to my own conclusions. If I were to say that, I would be lying. This book leaves me angry. It leaves me angry at the killers, the subversive culture of the media in this country, and it leaves me angry at those that had to lose their lives in this terrible tragedy. It makes me appreciate my own high school experience even more.

Most of all, it makes me think of wasted opportunities.

All 13 of the people who were murdered at Columbine had opportunities. Opportunities that were wasted by two thoughtless mass murderers. Some students, like Patrick Ireland, would eventually recover. 13 others weren't so lucky. how often do we take our opportunities for granted? How often do we settle for less then the best because we're scared to take a chance? When I come across a new opportunity, I think of the 13 that lost their lives at Columbine.

In 2000, The Columbine High School Band premiered a work called "An American Elegy", which was written by a composer friend of mine, Frank Ticheli. Upon hearing that their school had no alma mater, he wrote them one. Both "An American Elegy" and the Columbine Alma Mater have stuck with me for years. After reading this book, I re-listened to these pieces of music, and I'm not afraid to admit that I openly wept. David Cullen's book may have provoked a response from me, but it took genuine, emotional music to make me really feel the dramatic scope of that terrible day. The words to the Columbine Alma Mater are something that everyone can draw strength from, not just students there:

"Mountains rising to the sun,
Towering o'er the plains;
Heads held high we stand as one,
And proudly we proclaim:

We are Columbine,
We all are Columbine!"

Even though I wasn't involved, and am in no way connected to the school, city, county or even state, I feel like a part of me belongs to those that now walk or have walked the halls at Columbine High School.

We ALL are Columbine.

Listen to a Recording of "An American Elegy"