10.16.11.
nyc...


when i found out that jamey rodemeyer killed himself - i felt deeply troubled. but when i found out that jamey rodemeyer had made an it gets better video only months before taking his own life - i felt indescribable despair. i also made an it gets better video last year - in the wake of the senseless and tragic gay teen suicides that were sweeping the nation at the time. but in light of jamey's death - it became clear to me in an instant that living a gay life without publicly acknowledging it - is simply not enough to make any significant contribution to the immense work that lies ahead on the road to complete equality. our society needs to recognize the unstoppable momentum toward unequivocal civil equality for every gay lesbian bisexual and transgendered citizen of this country. gay kids need to stop killing themselves because they are made to feel worthless by cruel and relentless bullying. parents need to teach their children principles of respect and acceptance. we are witnessing an enormous shift of collective consciousness throughout the world. we are at the precipice of great transformation within our culture and government. i believe in the power of intention to change the landscape of our society - and it is my intention to live an authentic life of compassion and integrity and action. jamey rodemeyer's life changed mine. and while his death only makes me wish that i had done this sooner - i am eternally grateful to him for being the catalyst for change within me. now i can only hope to serve as the same catalyst for even one other person in this world. that - i believe - is all that we can ask of ourselves and of each other.

zq.

A great way to spend Sunday morning.

"Being loved by God is the exhilarating deliverance from the hall of mirrors we once thought would bring us happiness—if we could just like what we see. Heaven is not a hall of mirrors. Or maybe we should say, heaven is a world in which all created things have become mirrors, and all of them are tilted to a 45 degree angle. Everywhere we look—in every creature—we see the reflection of God."
- John Piper

Reclaiming my Gift

John 3:16 "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

A precious gift was given, yet we return it over and over like it was some thoughtless out of the ordinary sweater we recieved from a crazy relative. Can you imagine how that must feel? Did you ever find out someone returned a gift you had given them?, I have, I felt betrayed, a little sad. but I also felt like never given them anything ever again.

Imagine just for a minute...what if our savior Jesus Christ would do that.. What if he refused to forive us when we came to him in our time of need & repentance , even though countless times we've turned our backs on him, returning his gift of eternal love/life over and over. What if we had a limit on his kindness & forgiveness.?

Ephesians 2:8-9 says “For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast.”

What is grace? Grace is getting what we don’t deserve. It is by grace that we have been saved through faith. We do not have salvation by doing good works but it is the gift of God. If you give someone a gift are they going to reach into their wallet or purse and pay for the gift. If they did, we would be offended . i know i would. God gave us a free gift. It was the most expensive gift and there is no need for us to pay Him anything. We do not owe God anything. This is not to say we are not to do good works.

Ive been losing focus of my life & my faith this entire year. Ive been returning Christs gift. I feel ashamed.. As the days, weeks , and months continue to pass, nothing is changing in my life as a result.. Ive come to a stalemate. The only way i can really describe it, is a feeling of being lost. I've let my attention go to areas in my life, that are....frankly, not important to me. ideals of Relationships and sexual idenity have consumed me. Thats not who i am. thats not how i want to spend my gift.

We don’t owe God anything, but if we love Him, we should be willing to give/renew our life to Him. In showing our love for Him, we should be willing to die for Him. Everything we do should be out of love for Him and not because we owe Him. If we love the Lord then we will obey His commandments. That day that Christ, our Savior, died on the cruel cross of Calvary. That day that He was bruised, beaten and scourged. That day that His innocent blood was shed on the cross for you and for me. That day was the day he showed His love for mankind. All that Christ did was as a gift for the whole world, so that those who believed on Him would be saved. Does that not make you want to love your Savior even more?

I call upon Christ, not always in prayer. Alot of times in haste and desperation. I question him, I ignore him at times. and yet his gift remains.

Every time I think of that day that my Savior died, it brings tears of joy to my eyes for that great gift of salvation He gave to me and I don’t owe Him anything but I love Him for that very reason. I love Him, because He first loved me and that love for Him should be the drive behind everything I do. and i sadly have to admit it hasnt. But today is a new day, a new beginning.

Escapist - a person who escapes into a world of fantasy. wishful thinker, dreamer

I feel like a bad person. Not in the moral, I-just-kicked-a-puppy-and-stole-a-kid’s-candy type of way, but in the fact that I haven’t written anything worthwhile in about a month. The ideas that normally spring into my brain at random and sometimes inopportune moments just haven’t been coming to me as easily this past month, but I sense a change in the air. I've been an avid reader much of my life , gettin lost in the rich fantasy life of others. I guess in order to escape the reality of mine.

I've always had a wild imagination, even as a kid, i remember wanting to play alone, even for just a few hours so i could make up some fantastical game in my head, be it...a plantet inhabited with my little pony's, where i wouldnt be judged for combing their hair & singing loudly the biggest hit on the pop station at the time or even just making up two or three characters in my head & bring them to life in my backyard. Running around acting as if i had the best game in the world.. & Of course my brother tried to see fit to stifle my imagination, calling me weird or saying thats stupid, he did'nt wanna play that.

I had a friend in the second and third grade, lets call her "Amanda" for the sake of this entry. She alone opened my eyes to the far corners of my imagination. she was a loner in school (a rebel, as pee wee herman would say) and she didnt care what others thought of her, at the time..at a grade school mentality..that was social suicide. She was ostracized a great deal, and snickered at.

'I just had a brainflash' I'll tell ya who she reminds me of, if you have ever seen the movie Napoleon Dynamite, she looks like Tina Majorino's character Deb. Except for the side pony tail, her hair was usually flowing wildly & it was crimped ( it was really big at the time) most of the time.

Well Anyways, there was this big oak tree at the edge of our school playground. she called it the castle ( and it was usually base for tag, if we were run off, or if i were playing with other kids) She was very into medievil type roleplaying, usually it was just her and I, but i would sometime make a few friends join us, to the dismay ( as my brother) of grumbles and screaching of new ideas to us. She was one of the most unique people ive met in my life, and even as a kid i appreciated that. Maybe it was because i knew i was different as well, I was seeking out others in need of something i needed. an escape.

When i was around nineteen, I had my first real "adult job " at a factory in Jackson. I was on break and just about to clock back in, when before my eyes was "Amanda"...Now keep in mind i hadnt seen her since the last day of third grade. (i even have the tablet she signed on the back, remember when we used to do that on the last day of school? it was like a signature to not forget your pals over the summer, simpler time eh?) I was hesitant about going up to her, but i did. It was an awkward reunion of sorts, we exchanged general pleasantries...and caught up on, in what time would allow...before we both rushed back to work. She seemed broked, sad.. a shell of the girl who i remembered. I guess that happens in life, when you live inside your head. I never told her how much i admired her, looking back now, im positve she needed to hear that. would it have changed any outlook she may of had on life?, probably not. But, it would of been nice to hear it , im sure.

“Solid stone is just sand and water, baby. Sand and water and a million years gone by.”- Beth Nielsen Chapman It’s a simple enough thought. Time changes all things, no matter how large or small, strong or frail. I’m reminded of this daily, though I don’t always let it sink in as I probably should. It’s a simple testament to the power of time and even our concept of it.

I live in my head alot...not just with my imagination.. but with thoughts about everyday life, overthinking things, over analyzing relationships. Ive always had a problem vocalizing my thoughts. I sometimes wonder if God blessed me with a voicebox with stagefright.:)

My siblings dont understand me , never have..and even as a grown man in my early thirties, i should be at a point of acceptance of things around me. to understand that the world is so much bigger than I.

Believe me I know reality..I feel guilty that im as normal as i am, if that makes sense. It's so sad that i have to escape my siblings. but if i didnt id probably go crazy..from the troubled pasts and drug abuse, overstressed parents of teenagers, Bing-drinking know-it alls, co-dependant victims of physical abuse..i could go on and on.

and then theres Me..."the dreamer", the one with his head in the clouds, waiting on a "perfect" relationship, waiting on a life that is probably not in his cards...lying in wait and finding fault in those around him. Me, the one who takes on their problems begrudingly and hating them for it. Me, the one who feels guilty about typing the previous sentence. Me, forever the people pleaser. the Escapist.

How do you follow up when your first novel, Garden Spells, makes the bestseller lists? Sarah Addison Allen wrote The Sugar Queen, another magical novel. It's a worthy successor, and the best book I've read so far this year. Fans of Alice Hoffman's Practical Magic must try Allen's books.

At 27, Josey Cirrini was the wealthy daughter of the man who put Bald Slope, North Carolina on the map as a winter resort. She was also a young woman who stayed home with her widowed mother, waited on her, hid food in her closet, and had no life outside the house. Then one day, she opened her closet to find Della Lee Baker hiding in it. Della Lee had fled from her own life, and the closet was now her shelter, just as it was Josey's refuge.

Josey fights for control of her closet, but Della Lee continues to push her out into the world. First, there's an errand to pick up lunch at a small sandwich shop. Chloe Finley, owner of the shop, is in need of a friend after breaking up with her boyfriend. At the moment, Chloe's best friends are the books that seem to have turned on her. Books appear magically in Chloe's life, and, right now, the titles push her to forgive the man who cheated on her. Josey and Chloe need each other.

Why is Della Lee in Josey's closet? She pushes her, to find a friend, to speak to the mailman, to add color to her life. Della Lee might not seem to be a wise woman, but her comment to Josey shows a knowledge of the heart. "You and me and Chloe...We can't hold on to our hearts to save our lives."

The Sugar Queen shares some traits with Garden Spells. Once again, families members share interesting traits. The Pelhams couldn't go back on promises. The Cirrini women were magical women with curly hair. As in the earlier one, this is a book filled with unexplained magic, and love. And, hopefully, like Garden Spells, this one will make the bestseller lists.

Stone Soup.

Once upon a time, somewhere in post-war Eastern Europe, there was a great famine in which people jealously hoarded whatever food they could find, hiding it even from their friends and neighbours.


Three soldiers trudged down a road in a strange country. They were on their way home from the wars. Besides being tired, they were hungry. In fact, they had eaten nothing for two days.


"How I would like a good dinner tonight," said the first. "And a bed to sleep in," added the second. "But that is impossible," said the third.
On they marched, until suddenly, ahead of them, they saw the lights of a village. "Maybe we'll find a bite to eat and a bed to sleep in," they thought.

Now the peasants of the place feared strangers. When they heard that three soldiers were coming down the road, they talked among themselves. "Here come three soldiers," they said. "Soldiers are always hungry. But we have so little for ourselves." And they hurried to hide their food. They hid the barley in haylofts, carrots under quilts, and buckets of milk down the wells. They hid all they had to eat. Then they waited.

The soldiers stopped at the first house. "Good evening to you," they said. "Could you spare a bit of food for three hungry soldiers?" "We have no food for ourselves," the residents lied. "It has been a poor harvest."

The soldiers went to the next house. "Could you spare a bit of food?" they asked. "And do you have a corner where we could sleep for the night?" "Oh, no," the man said. "We gave all we could spare to the soldiers who came before you." "And our beds are full," lied the woman.

At each house, the response was the same -- no one had food or a place for the soldiers to stay. The peasants had very good reasons, like feeding the sick and children. The villagers stood in the street and sighed. They looked as hungry as they could.

The soldiers talked together. The first soldier called out, "Good people! We are three hungry soldiers in a strange land. We have asked you for food and you have no food. Well, we will have to make stone soup." The peasants stared.
The soldiers asked for a big iron pot, water to fill it, and a fire to heat it. "And now, if you please, three round smooth stones." The soldiers dropped the stones into the pot.

"Any soup needs salt and pepper," the first soldier said, so children ran to fetch salt and pepper.
"Stones make good soup, but carrots would make it so much better," the second soldier added. One woman said, "Why, I think I have a carrot or two!" She ran to get the carrots.

"A good stone soup should have some cabbage, but no use asking for what we don't have!" said the third soldier. Another woman said, "I think I can probably find some cabbage," and off she scurried.

"If only we had a bit of beef and some potatoes, this soup would be fit for a rich man's table." The peasants thought it over, then ran to fetch what they had hidden in their cellars. A rich man's soup, and all from a few stones! It seemed like magic!

The soldiers said, "If only we had a bit of barley and some milk, this soup would be fit for a king!" And so the peasants managed to retrieve some barley and milk.
"The soup is ready," said the cooks, "and all will taste it, but first we need to set the tables." Tables and torches were set up in the square, and all sat down to eat. Some of the peasants said, "Such a great soup would be better with bread and cider," so they brought forth the last two items and the banquet was enjoyed by all.
Never had there been such a feast. Never had the peasants tasted such delicious soup, and all made from stones! They ate and drank and danced well into the night.

The soldiers asked again if there was a loft where they might sleep for the night. "Oh, no!" said the town folk. "You wise men must have the best beds in the village!" So one soldier spent the night in the priest's house, one in the baker's house, and one in the mayor's house.

In the morning, the villagers gathered to say goodbye. "Many thanks to you," the people said, "for we shall never go hungry now that you have taught us how to make soup from stones!"

The moral of the story is that by working together and everyone contributing just a little, a greater good is achieved.