<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:02:55.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Truth is After Me</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760.post-4677931606866478540</id><published>2008-09-07T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T11:24:54.519-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Control</title><content type='html'>Control&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I clench my clunky hands.&lt;br /&gt;They strain to hold all the things in my life, the things I need to control.  Anxiously.  Even desperately now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot hold magnesium, or salt, or sand and yet i try as the bits and pieces slip through my fingers onto the floor of life.  I look down helplessly at the mess I've made.  And as the puddles flatten to the ground I am weighed down by the thoughts, the thoughts of all that is out of my control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing I can do.  Thats the worst part.  I am helpless here.  this clean white floor extends to the tall walls surrounding me and I am alone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kneel down grasping at the fluid piles and suddenly am aware of a hand gracing my back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dillusional...no...this hand is authentic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dillusional...yes...I have been.  The piles remain on the floor ungathered, but the realization strikes, "They're not my piles.  They never were."  I was grasping and seeking to control things that were and are beyond me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things our hands aren't made to hold.  But the Divine, He is not so limited and He beckons me to trust.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224495200946020760-4677931606866478540?l=thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/4677931606866478540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4224495200946020760&amp;postID=4677931606866478540' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/4677931606866478540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/4677931606866478540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/2008/09/control.html' title='Control'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760.post-1049631864784249937</id><published>2008-05-05T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T08:31:01.868-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Creatures</title><content type='html'>And aren't we all such funny creatures.  We walk around and talk to each other most of the time engaging only partially as if invisible lines are drawn up around ourselves.  Convinced as we are of its necessity we mask ourselves for our own protection.  Lest someone see our heart, the deepest part of ourselves, the part where the living is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And aren't we all such funny creatures.  We walk around dying on the inside to be known.  We long for others to see our hearts and smile alongside in wonder at how God has made each of us, the part where the living is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And aren't we such funny creatures that daily we walk in this conundrum all the while God offers us freedom.  A freedom to look out beyond at Him and at others without being drowned under the ocean of our self-focus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smile as I think of myself and all of you reading this.  We are sitting at a table amongst friends and this offer of freedom moves all around us, even in the eyes of our friends and shame of shames... we won't look.  And for that we are quite funny creatures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224495200946020760-1049631864784249937?l=thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/1049631864784249937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4224495200946020760&amp;postID=1049631864784249937' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/1049631864784249937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/1049631864784249937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/2008/05/funny-creatures.html' title='Funny Creatures'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760.post-7510609076215229553</id><published>2008-04-13T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T11:27:49.037-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There is still hope</title><content type='html'>A word of hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no dead ends.  None.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At any point in life you can turn in a different direction.  Physical reality tells us there are restrictions, but a deeper truth speaks to the reality of a greater life that has been calling.  Something that excites our heart and drives us mad with wanderlust as we search for something greater to live for.  Well these desires are not in vain they are sparkling remembrances of our true soul from God whispering to live for something more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something greater than what we've accepted at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't forget that at any point, anytime, anywhere, you can stop and change.  The deadends are more figments of our imaginations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live for something worth living for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224495200946020760-7510609076215229553?l=thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/7510609076215229553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4224495200946020760&amp;postID=7510609076215229553' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/7510609076215229553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/7510609076215229553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/2008/04/there-is-still-hope.html' title='There is still hope'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760.post-5278084006910110800</id><published>2008-02-17T09:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T10:13:23.512-08:00</updated><title type='text'>project identity</title><content type='html'>I was in class the other day and I was reminded of a truth that I think stretches itself across all of our lives.  There was this student who was always asking questions or making comments using really big words.  I realized that when he asked a question it wasn't for the purpose of getting an answer, but it was so everybody else could hear him speak.  He wanted to sound intelligent.  He somehow found approval for himself in being smart in front of his peers.  Most of us look upon this type of behavior with disgust, because we see in it someone wrapped up in themselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the reality is we all do it.  We all have these things that we do in order to feel better about ourselves, in order to find our approval.  Some people become artists so that others can wonder at their artistic ability and creativity.  Others become mathematicians because they can pat themselves on the back or impress their friends after solving extremely difficult problems.  Some even become religious because they are quite capable of self-discipline and morality, the outward signs of religious conviction.  I realize in my own life that I get my kicks from showing off in sports or when somebody gives me a compliment about this blog.  We all find ourselves to some extant seeking the approval of human beings all around us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this is why the message of Jesus is so intoxicating.  He came down amongst a bunch of ragamuffins and told them that he loved them just as they are.  They didn't need to do any tricks or solve any problems.  This brought about the response of people pledging their lives to Him.  People so swept away by the love of Jesus that they were defined by it.  If someone were to have asked Mary Magdalene who she was she would probably have said, " A beloved daughter of Jesus."  And they wouldn't just be words, they would be truth, it was in His eyes that she found value, it was in His eyes that she found life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a question of identity.  We are quite cavalier about throwing around our faith, but my question is do we really base our identity in it?  For me to say that I am a Christian is a fairly severe statement.  In it I am saying that above all else my identity is found in Christ.  But is it really?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is the young man from my class first and foremost a Christian, or is he first and foremost a scholar seeking the scholarly approval of his peers?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brennan Manning put it like this, "My deepest awareness of myself is that I am deeply loved by Jesus Christ and have done nothing to earn it or deserve it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is my deepest awareness?  What is your?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224495200946020760-5278084006910110800?l=thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/5278084006910110800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4224495200946020760&amp;postID=5278084006910110800' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/5278084006910110800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/5278084006910110800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/2008/02/project-identity.html' title='project identity'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760.post-2794335032048690222</id><published>2008-02-12T06:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T07:07:50.272-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chris Farley</title><content type='html'>The show has ended, the applause fades away and as the theatre empties you realize that it will never be enough.&lt;br /&gt;Fight the tears back.  Let your concious drift onto the next performance when your loyal fans return.&lt;br /&gt;Just imagine how impressed they will be by you.&lt;br /&gt;But whatever you do, don't ever, ever exist in the right now, the lonely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris Farley with nobody watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;explanation:  I wrote this poem this summer in Europe. Often in my life i get my kicks from being able to entertain others. After a while though I start depending on these feelings.  I can begin to base my identity in them.  That's when you come to the point of having to always be entertaining, looking for the next moment to be funny.  And when nobody else is around, what do you do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224495200946020760-2794335032048690222?l=thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/2794335032048690222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4224495200946020760&amp;postID=2794335032048690222' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/2794335032048690222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/2794335032048690222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/2008/02/chris-farley.html' title='Chris Farley'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760.post-8783805074963575767</id><published>2008-01-28T14:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T19:23:24.833-08:00</updated><title type='text'>what is love?</title><content type='html'>So i stumbled upon an idea today while responding to a message on facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Love cannot be any less than love."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is quite a provocative statement.  We say we love so many things, but what do we really love.  You can't tell me that you love me if you aren't willing to spend time investing in me....if you aren't willing to care for me.  If you aren't willing to sacrifice for something/somebody it probably isn't much of a love.  (Not that sacrifice is always needed, but if it is are you willing?) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This hit me hard because one of my battle cries is to love God most.  I say it with such ease and clarity that it comes off as truth.  But do i really love God?  Do I really spend time with Him?  Do I sacrifice my own wants and desires in order to serve God?  Or is it just convenient to say, making me sound like a saint or something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is either love, or it is just another action cheapening the reality of the true love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's always good to ask ourselves what do we really love.  To touch base with reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wondering at times where my heart is truly at,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;erik&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224495200946020760-8783805074963575767?l=thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/8783805074963575767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4224495200946020760&amp;postID=8783805074963575767' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/8783805074963575767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/8783805074963575767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/2008/01/what-is-love.html' title='what is love?'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760.post-4963792604956653622</id><published>2008-01-25T07:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T07:14:10.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>what would I do?</title><content type='html'>So i promised I would answer this question about what I would do if I knew that I couldn't fail.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I would do one of two things.  I would either start a retreat center for pastors to come to and rest and relax in God.  I would try to remind them of how we must be real as a people, as a church.  How they must be real as pastors.  I would refuel them and encourage them to get beyond the finances and the board meetings and into the heart of God, :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I didn't do that I would start, or become part of, a counseling ministry for married couples.  I believe marriage is probably the most precious gift God gave us here on earth.  And unfortunately it is also one of the most mistreated.  Sometimes a couple just needs a wise person to sit with them and help take the blinders off so they can see God....so they can see themselves...so they can see each other in truth.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both of these things make my heart very happy, :).  And now I don't know which way to go, :(.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked this question because I think we should do these things.  I think the world would be a better place.  I think God would be more greatly glorified.  And I think we would all be much more satisfied. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So live boldly!!!  :)  Don't be so afraid of failure that you miss out on life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when God comes to you, don't resist Him.  He is the greatest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;erik&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224495200946020760-4963792604956653622?l=thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/4963792604956653622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4224495200946020760&amp;postID=4963792604956653622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/4963792604956653622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/4963792604956653622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/2008/01/what-would-i-do.html' title='what would I do?'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760.post-3210220505364649795</id><published>2008-01-13T08:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T08:41:20.796-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What would you do?</title><content type='html'>Ok, this one is for you guys.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q:  What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please respond either on this blog or to my email.  I'll post my answer in a couple of days.  I really like this exercise, I think you'll understand why if you do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Courtney Bradshaw.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224495200946020760-3210220505364649795?l=thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/3210220505364649795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4224495200946020760&amp;postID=3210220505364649795' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/3210220505364649795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/3210220505364649795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/2008/01/what-would-you-do.html' title='What would you do?'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760.post-1430999386092602921</id><published>2008-01-11T05:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T05:36:32.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'>in the beginning</title><content type='html'>Oh put to sleep Father.  Lay me down and let me rest and take my rib.  Take as many ribs as you need, but put me to sleep.  Just as Adam lay in his rest and you made Eve please do the same with me.  Why is it that I must live this life without her?  Why are so many others around me experiencing the unexplainable beauty of a partner and I wait, lie awake at night and wonder, wonder when I will sleep and wake to find her smiling back at me?  Am I so different from Adam?  Am I more complete than Adam?  Or am I just blind of your master plan, lacking the patience to wait as you craft her, as you craft me?  I don’t know, but I know this desire is deep and undeniable.  Please don’t make me wait forever, guide me to her, fulfill this healthy desire that has for so long been looked down upon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not good for man to be alone.  I agree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224495200946020760-1430999386092602921?l=thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/1430999386092602921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4224495200946020760&amp;postID=1430999386092602921' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/1430999386092602921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/1430999386092602921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/2008/01/in-beginning.html' title='in the beginning'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760.post-1899099238993612038</id><published>2007-12-30T21:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T22:03:42.392-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A good day</title><content type='html'>Self worship.  Is this what I am in the end?  A self-absorbed catastrophe.  Yes...but then with a voice of greater resound, No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk with ease with my head held high into the dull light of self-righteousness.  Cutting left, then right I dribble through my friends and score.  Is this what I want most?  Is this my definition?  I'm trying hard to make it be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You love me.  You are better and I love you back.  There is nothing better no matter where i look.  It's here with You this is where I always want to live.  May the selfishness die forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if it ever returns I know where to find You.  Compell me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224495200946020760-1899099238993612038?l=thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/1899099238993612038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4224495200946020760&amp;postID=1899099238993612038' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/1899099238993612038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/1899099238993612038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/2007/12/good-day.html' title='A good day'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760.post-707951713536501844</id><published>2007-12-04T10:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T10:02:51.544-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a story of faith</title><content type='html'>I remember coming to Sulphur.  The change in location came easy for me because of my age.  I was either five or six and my greatest friend at the time was my own imagination.  I did not dread moving from Texas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We began looking for a new church to attend and I especially liked one in particular because they had good snacks before service.  I say that this was my greatest concern at the time without hesitation as a doughnut hole interested me to a much greater extant than any Sunday school lesson could.  The doughnut met a real need, that of hunger, and a real want, that of sugar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My experiences of church were common.  I would go much against my will and my earliest memories are much less focused on the service or God and more on the event surrounding it, the Egg Hunt after Easter service and the opening of gifts following Christmas Eve Service.  These along with the doughnut holes were what I appreciated most out of religion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I continued in this fashion for most of my youth.  I was late to mature both in body and mind and I probably have my little sisters to thank for that but I do not regret it.  I hope that the youthful spirit through which I see life will always live on casting hope and optimism.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember that I gave God credit for little.  I usually had an explanation for something whether good or bad.  Dan and I used to play basketball and if an argument came about he would call a redo and afterwards give credit to God for rectifying the situation.  “See I told you.  God knew and He showed you who was right.”  Dan loved to taunt me and I always handled it poorly.  These situations brought me great distress because I knew that he was abusing God and using Him to prove his own points, but I could not combat his advanced logic and so it usually ended in a childish brawl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another time I remember speaking to Brad Ahrens about God.  Brad had asked me who went to heaven.  He had questioned whether only the bad, that being the bank robbers and murderers went to hell.  I answered him in a very orthodox and astonishingly correct way.  “Only our faith in Jesus allows us forgiveness of sins, it matters not what are our occupations or habits.”  I look back and wonder how I could have spoken such truth, even believing it somehow, but not truly knowing.  It is moments such as these that make me realize that my beliefs were greatly impacted by the church though my heart had yet to be touched.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a senior in high school when I had my first encounter with God.  I label it as such because it is, to the best of my knowledge, the first time I ever truly interacted with God, truly spoke with God.  It was a Saturday night in either November or December of 2000 and I found myself sitting in a church of unknown denomination trying to impress a girl I knew.  Ladies were the interest of the day and I like so many other young 17 year old boys I was captivated by them.  Their bodies were pure beauty curving and moving to my delight and their affection was what I craved more than anything else.  This night I came to see Carrie.  She was a brown haired girl with a soft spirit and a very inviting yet shy smile.  The first time I saw her I was caught.  And so I followed her there to a church and was confronted with a different taste entirely than the one I had known my entire life.  People were dancing and moving with hands raised acting very silly.  I know that if I had had a friend there with me the time would have been passed much easier by making fun of all the weirdos in the audience.  The night wore on and a man got up to speak at the end.  Of what he spoke I know not but I do know that he ended with this,  “If you were to leave this place tonight and get in a car accident and die, what would happen to you?”  The words choked me as I tried to swallow them down.  “I was a Christian.” I reassured myself, “I confessed my faith every Sunday.  I would go to Heaven.”  But these words brought me no comfort and looking back know I am sure that God saw to it that my logic remain futile.  The next moments were pure agony and I doubt I shall ever forget them.  I was sitting by myself without a doubt in my mind that I needed to go up and ask forgiveness to a strange God, one I had not known.  At the same time I fought with all my pride to take deep breaths and convince myself that I was ok.  The struggle wasn’t in whether or not I needed God, that part was very clear, it was a struggle of whether or not I would walk down in front of everyone else and admit that I needed him, that I wasn’t a Christian.  The idea of admitting to Carrie and all the others there that I didn’t know God was impossible.  I just couldn’t do it.  The man speaking eventually closed the altar and asked that all those who wanted to pray for the ones accepting Jesus to come up and do so.  Darkness consumed me.  For a moment in the back of that sanctuary I felt more terrible than I had ever felt in my life.  I had chosen my own pride over God’s grace and was left with nothing.  I liken it to Kurtz, Jospeh Conrad’s character in Heart of Darkness, when finding myself an object to be worshiped I have nothing in the end but hollowness, nothing but darkness.  For what I can do to save my own soul, what right do I have to claim righteousness?  None by my deeds and my deeds are lacking.  I sat in the back of that foreign church confronted with a foreign God and I silently begged for another chance to go up and find forgiveness.  It came all too soon and the man speaking said that he would open it up one last time for any others who wanted to come and accept Jesus.  I was given another chance but my pride did not leave me and I thought to myself again, “There is no way I can go up there.”  Very unexpectedly I stood and began walking down the aisle.  I do not know by what strength I got up and walked, however I am certain that there was a war going on within me and I was surprised by my own actions.  But the battle ended once I got to my feet and began walking down.  There was no more hiding, no more avoiding, it was clear to all that I didn’t know God.  This was a good place to be because with that admittance all else disappeared from the room and I met God for the first time.  In awe and wonder I knelt before Him and He told me it was ok.  All the things that had always weighed me down, the guilt, the heartache, he took upon himself and ended my misery.  I was clean and new and loved.  I was made ok, not owing a debt, not half a person.  After what might have been hours at the altar I came back to reality and smiled at my friends, and at Carrie.  I was free, free from so much guilt and heaviness that I had been dragging around for years.  All it took was my surrender to God and He took care of the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story is my own.  I cannot claim that it holds true for all or that all should have an encounter mirroring this.  I do, however, believe that the God of the Christians is the true God, although we as Christians rarely represent him fairly. This story is my own. You cannot have it.  You must write your own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224495200946020760-707951713536501844?l=thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/707951713536501844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4224495200946020760&amp;postID=707951713536501844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/707951713536501844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/707951713536501844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/2007/12/story-of-faith.html' title='a story of faith'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760.post-2631824383636075401</id><published>2007-11-26T14:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T14:34:50.215-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Glamorous Life</title><content type='html'>One should not always pretend that all is right.  Sometimes things don't go as we hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate that I am in a constant fight to appear beautiful.  I am not.  I don't think life comes to us until we are honest with where we are.  Here is my honesty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"11/25/07  "Tired of all the Crap"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so tired of being fake.  I'm tired of witty journal entries and pleasant ideas on God.  I just want to be honest with myself and write down whats really going on.  Not glorified, not pretty, F pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so lonely now.  Probably the loneliest I've been since I can remember.  I don't have any really good friends who move with me.  I haven't been real with God.  I've just done what looks good drinking from the cooler in those stupid little cups that never fill you up.  And then I do what I want.  Not what He wants.  I want intimacy so bad.  I just want to hug everybody but more for my sake.  To feel that love.  To know that love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even really know where to go.  I'm so lazy especially at my dorm.  It feels like I get there and my shoes are covered in Peanut Butter and I can't walk so I do something to entertain myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why the Hell won't I just live?!?  Why do I feel the need to pass life by or let it pass me by rather.  Why can't I live it to the full?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I don't feel loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I'm not close with God or with others.  Because I would rather people think I have it all together than let them know the real me.  The me that hurts.  The me that wants to sleep because being awake is so damn lonely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in the midst of all this I want to try to correct others.  Try to fix others, try to tell them they aren't right.  That they are Hypocrites, but I won't surrender.  I won't let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need help.  I need love and I need to let go of myself.  I need to be honest."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn't a cry for help though many of you won't believe me.  You'll sit there, as I would, and read this and think to yourself how far from the path has Erik gone.  What happened to the man we knew?  He is here, rest assured.  You're just experiencing the side of him that isn't so clean.  So polished.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are catching me in the pain, not in the appropriate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if we can handle the honesty.  Is the ugly too ugly?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224495200946020760-2631824383636075401?l=thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/2631824383636075401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4224495200946020760&amp;postID=2631824383636075401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/2631824383636075401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/2631824383636075401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/2007/11/glamorous-life.html' title='The Glamorous Life'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760.post-5785501938239370687</id><published>2007-11-01T13:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T13:33:32.089-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Simon Says</title><content type='html'>I have come to realize that our church, our body, is suffering from a terrible epidemic.  It came disguised as an antibiotic:  a cure all for the problems in our life.  And while I do believe at its conception it was healthy, it has grown to cause mass destruction and driven countless of my contemporaries away from God.&lt;br /&gt; This wonder drug, of which I speak, is control.  It is a system of do’s and don’ts (mostly don’ts) that leaves its users feeling very helpless and trapped.  You see our leadership, somewhere along the line, saw how bad sin was and they decided that they were going to stop it.  Books, sermons, conferences, retreats, and even entire churches made their sole focus control, or ridding the people of God of their sin.  I’m sure that you’ve experienced it.  I once myself received a bookmark full of bible verses about things I shouldn’t do in college.  I have no idea where that bookmark is now, partially because at the time I received it I didn’t read, but mostly because it had little to no impact on my life.  I was raised with rules, guided by rules, most of which I didn’t believe in.  The last thing I wanted was more rules.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simon Says don’t have sex or anything like it until your married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simon Says don’t watch movies with cussing or nudity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simon says don’t drink alcohol or smoke cigarettes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Now don’t misunderstand me; I am not an advocate for sin or the existence of it.  I believe discipline is a healthy thing and it aids in our relationship with God.  The travesty happened the day not sinning became more important than loving.  On that day we exchanged a perfect love, for a shattered law.  Our youth flee because they are told what not to do before they understand why.  You have a whole generation of young women and men who have a yoke so heavy around their neck they can’t walk and they don’t have anyone to help them carry it (sound familiar, check out Matt. 23).  You cannot command someone to stop sinning if they have yet to taste the sweetness of God.  It makes no sense.  This is why you have a whole generation of young “Christians” that go to college and go crazy.  The problem isn’t that they lose their faith, most of the time it’s that their faith is revealed for what it is.  A cold distant God that more closely resembles a list of rules than it does a warm and loving father.  Their lives looked right until they were in a place where they could let go of the don’ts and embrace the dos.  And the dos can be devastating.&lt;br /&gt; When the Jews tried to trick Jesus and they asked Him what the greatest commandment was.  He didn’t respond don’t covet your neighbor’s wife, or don’t lie.  The greatest commandments that God in the flesh gave were to love Him and others with every bit of yourself.  The greatest commandments are dos.  And they are grounded in love on both accounts.  This life of righteousness, of discipline, of beauty, is no further away than us loving God.  But it must begin and end there.  It must exist on all fronts in these two places.  If we forget this we will fall away from truth and turn to control.  We will turn to rules that make our lives look pretty but when you look inside the cup and dish they are terribly dirty.  We will change from a people marked by mercy and grace to objects ruled as a government with checks and balances.  And in this we will have created our own gods:  each of us molding the gold until our calves look exactly as we like them.  If we live this way then we make the rules and we control the grace.  May this never be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224495200946020760-5785501938239370687?l=thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/5785501938239370687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4224495200946020760&amp;postID=5785501938239370687' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/5785501938239370687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/5785501938239370687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/2007/11/simon-says.html' title='Simon Says'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760.post-187195957100411890</id><published>2007-10-23T09:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T00:13:18.585-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Problem of Evil:  A Dialogue</title><content type='html'>This is pretty long, but I think if you make it through you'll enjoy it.  This is a paper for my philosophy class on the problem of evil.  I would love to hear what you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erik, a young inquisitive man shortly out of college, enters the coffee shop and makes his way to the counter.  He grabs a vanilla steamer and awaits his companion in one of the two chairs in the back corner of the shop.  It isn’t long before his mind begins swirling with the issues that pushed him here today.  He awaits his pastor’s arrival to discuss life in general, but especially difficulties in his understanding of God.  His pastor, a man he had always respected and somewhat admired, clumsily enters the coffee shop.  Erik couldn’t help but smile each time he saw Pastor Kire because Kire was always so socially awkward, but never seemed to mind.  It was as if Kire lived on a different planet where cool and uncool didn’t exist.  In it’s place there was only love.  Kire made his way to the back of the shop and sat down in the chair opposite of Erik.  After the usually pleasantries, Erik pushed the conversation towards the reason he came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Kire, do you mind if I ask you a question?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Of course.” Kire replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Well, I was thinking the other day that it seems kind of unfair that God created us the way that he did.” Erik stated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “How do you mean?” inquired Kire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Well, as you know I am unmarried, but I have always had the desire to have sex.”&lt;br /&gt; “Ok…you know you’re not alone in that.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Erik smiled, “I know and that’s exactly my point.  You see I have all these desires, all these things that I want to do and half of them I am not supposed to want.  I keep thinking about this and it seems so unfair that I have all these desires, which come from deep within me, from the place where I was made.  It’s as if God put these things here but then expects me not to act out on them.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Erik, you have to understand that sex is a good thing in the right place, but outside of marriage it is destructive.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “I know, I know, but sex is just a metaphor for everything that I feel but can’t act on.”  Erik paused for a second, then continued.  “I had a friend in college who struggled with homosexuality.  We would pray all the time against it.  We would ask God to heal him, but nothing seemed to work.  I can’t help but see this in the same way.  Why would God give him a desire for other men and then ask him not to act on it?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Kire reflected and then spoke slowly, ”You know Erik... I have often wondered the same thing.  All I can figure out is that we’re broken.  We aren’t the way that God originally made us to be.  You, me, your friend, we’re all stuck on this planet somewhat doomed and cursed to live according to rules that are in play because one day a long time ago Adam ate that damn apple.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Exactly!” Erik resounded, “But that leads me to another question.  We always say that God is completely good, completely powerful, and he knows the future.  And if these are all true then why would he have created a world that could have gone bad like this?  He should have known better.  He should have done better, right?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Kire paused again, a little longer this time, and then responded, “Erik, these questions you’re asking have no easy answers.  In fact, I probably can’t answer in a way that will satisfy you completely and in this realm I think each man must struggle with God to find the answer.  Having said that I will share what I have found with you.  Do you remember why Adam fell in the garden?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Yes,” Erik responded, “He took the apple from the tree of knowledge of good and evil and ate it.  This was the only tree God said he wasn’t allowed to eat from.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Correct, I believe this is precisely why there is evil in the world.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Erik stared blankly, “We’ve just said that though, you’re just stating the problem.  That still doesn’t explain why God wouldn’t have made it better.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Why did Adam fall?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “I’ve just told you because he ate the fruit.” Erik said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Yes, but what allowed him to eat the fruit?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “His decision.”  Erik responded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “And there you have it.  God gave Adam the choice.  His freewill which led to sin is the reason everything around us isn’t quite right.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Ok, but couldn’t God have made us in another way which wouldn’t have resulted in so much pain and confusion?”  Erik questioned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “What would you suggest?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “I don’t know, maybe he could have made us with more ability to follow him or something so this whole thing wouldn’t have happened.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “More ability would still denote the ability to disobey.  It wouldn’t end our unfaithfulness.  It would only make it less frequent.  Evil would still be present.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Maybe he could of made us perfect.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You are suggesting that we should have been made not able to do wrong.  That we should have been made with an absence of freewill?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“For the sake of argument, Yes.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well, would you still consider yourself a Christian Erik?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “As of now, yea.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “What is your greatest duty as a Christian?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “To love God and others with all that I am.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Good answer.  Now lets change the scenario a bit.  You began this conversation stating that you weren’t married.  Well, let us pretend for a second that you are married.  Would you want that marriage to be a result of your choice to love your wife or not?” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “I would want to choose to love her, but the other way would make it a lot easier.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Both men laughed and then Kire said, “That it would, but it wouldn’t be real.  Everything we have and experience is done so with freewill in mind.  Love as we know it exists because of choice.  We have the ability to love or not to love.  This is what makes it love.  It’s the same way with God.  He doesn’t want a bunch of pre-programmed objects running around doing exactly what he wants.  He wants us to be inspired to follow him.  He wants his love to persuade us to fall in love with him.  All of this is affected by choice.  Take choice from the equation and you haven’t love, only obedience.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “But scripture says that obedience to God is proof of our love for him.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Proof of love it may be, but that is for God to decide.  Have you ever obeyed someone and not loved them?  Better yet, have you ever loved someone and not obeyed them.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Yes on both accounts.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “I think in scripture God is saying that true love will push us towards obedience.  Obedience then is the fruit of love, but it isn’t love and cannot be substituted for it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “So what you’re suggesting is that God allows us to make choices.  He does this because ultimately love cannot exist without the option of choosing.  In this we chose wrong and it has led to our current state.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “In short, I think that would sum up what I believe.”  Kire responded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “So you believe that freewill is worth it?  You believe that our ability to decide is worth more than all the evil in the world.”  Erik questioned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “It’s not so much I think it outweighs the evil as I think there is no other way.  I do not think that love can exist outside of choice.  I believe that love is the greatest thing God has to give us.  I believe that God created us knowing what would happen, but the love that he poured out on this world and the love that we experience everyday with one another is worth any amount of pain and suffering.”  Both men sat in silence for a minute and then Kire continued, ”Erik, it’s as I said before, this is something that you will have to struggle with perhaps even for your whole life.  There are times when something so terrible happens that I look to God and wonder if he’s really there.  There are things so terrible done that I sit and cry and hurt to my very core.”  Tears welled up in Kire’s eyes.  “As hard as it may be to accept I truly believe it’s worth it.  You’re right, without freewill there would be no evil, but would there really be good?  Would there really be love?  Would there really be joy?  I don’t think so; I think we would be robots unable to experience the beauty of life, unable to experience the terror of life.  I will take the beauty with the terror even on the worst of days.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Both men sat and reflected again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Does it ever get any easier to accept?”  Erik asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Only when I ignore the evil.  If I truly open my eyes and look around it is a struggle everyday.  On those days I have to trust in God.” responded Kire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The two men smiled and sat in silence, their minds swimming through the ideas set before them.  Kire wanted to make it to his son’s baseball game on time so he left Erik with his drink and a mindful of new possibilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Getting up from his chair Kire said, “Don’t forget that life is a journey.  God gave you that mind to think, but take the wisdom as it comes.  Don’t miss out on life all around you.”  Kire paused, he looked fiercely at Erik almost in tears and said, ”Don’t miss out on the opportunity to make life worth living by sharing the love that God has breathed in you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; As he walked out, Kire held the door open for an unknown customer and greeted them with a smile and an awkward “Hello”.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224495200946020760-187195957100411890?l=thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/187195957100411890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4224495200946020760&amp;postID=187195957100411890' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/187195957100411890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/187195957100411890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/2007/10/problem-of-evil-dialogue.html' title='The Problem of Evil:  A Dialogue'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760.post-8140682082829145671</id><published>2007-10-15T18:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T18:47:38.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Confession</title><content type='html'>I have a confession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been the greatest student lately.  And when I say I haven't been the greatest what I mean is I've been closer to the worst.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came to Seminary with hopes of learning and being molded more for God's sake.  I wanted to be challenged and change and grow in different ways.  I wanted to take this path of life and walk onward even if the road is strange and the path is hidden.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, what I've done has been much different.  I have instead only perservered in the areas that I agree with.  If I don't like a book that I have to read I don't read it.  I avoid foreign ideas and contradicting concepts almost without fault.  I'm doing exactly the opposite of what I'd hoped for.  Plus I've just been a slacker in general with my studies.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized all of this this morning, I think.  It hit me all at once when the work started piling up.  I think I've realized out of all of this I feel worst about my attitude.  I feel the worst about my heart being in the wrong place.  About being more concerned with my opinions and viewpoints than with truth.  I guess what I realized is I haven't been who I think I'm supposed to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In response to this you might be thinking a couple different things.  You may be thinking, "Man, that Erik, he's always beating himself up about something" or "Man, that Erik, I feel so bad for him" or "Man, that Erik, he needs to get his but in gear and do his homework", but there is a chance you might be thinking something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps you're like me and you can't help but compare yourself to others.  If this is the case you're probably thinking,"I wonder, along with Erik, if I've been who I'm supposed to be?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you ask any question of yourself please let it be this one.  Do it not for comparison's sake though, let comparisons be damned for the abomidable contraptions they are, but do it for God.  Let Him remind you of who He has asked you to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And don't feel bad about it, repent and be free to be everything that God has you to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224495200946020760-8140682082829145671?l=thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/8140682082829145671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4224495200946020760&amp;postID=8140682082829145671' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/8140682082829145671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/8140682082829145671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/2007/10/confession.html' title='A Confession'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224495200946020760.post-1445730240820604167</id><published>2007-10-01T17:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T06:53:52.504-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Would Jesus Eat?</title><content type='html'>I saw a book recently titled ,"What Would Jesus Eat?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a diet book based on the bible and what Jesus was known to have eaten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that is dumb.  Jesus might have eaten unhealthy.  I mean if you weren't going to live past 33 would you really not get icecream?  Or in my case, lots of meat.  I know I would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings me to a new question though.  What does it mean to be spiritually healthy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if I've ever been asked this question directly in these words, but recent life experiences have made me reflect on it.  Lately I've been feeling kind of down on myself.  I'm in Seminary now and because of this I almost feel like I should automatically be a better person.  Someone who doesn't think about himself all the time.  Someone who doesn't need the affection of the opposite sex to feel whole.  Someone who doesn't choose his own desires over something the Spirit might be leading him to.  But I'm not, I'm still Erik, still broken.  And I feel terrible because of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know what to do and it was Sunday morning, so I went to church.  During the sermon, the Pastor began to speak on shame.  He started telling us how Satan used shame from the beginning to seperate us from God and each other.  I started realizing that all this feeling bad stuff wasn't coming from God, it was coming from me.  I thought to be spiritually healthy meant that you got it all together.  But I think it isn't in what we do, it's in who God is, and how we understand that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sounds a little ridiculous I'm sure, but hang with me.  When you stand before God, will you claim yourself, your achievements, your holiness, or will you fall to the ground and grab the robe of Jesus and claim only the righteousness He can give.  If you just realized that you're depending on your own righteousness before God, it's probably time you and God had a talk.  As for me, I find it's only when I realize who I am that I am truly free to live.  Hopefully these words from "Today" a song by the common ground band will help illustrate the point I'm getting at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'd like to see today.  What could happen in my life?  When I realize that I'm empty.  When all that I can say is Jesus take my heart, my world is in your care."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I hear those words I realize how wrong I've been about Spiritual Health.  I continuously fool myself into thinking that I can make God proud or be good enough to earn my right.  Poor me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh...but the life to be lived in realizing my life lies in the life of Christ.  To be hidden in Him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If this is all old news to you then I hope that when you read this you can rejoice with me that I can see things a little clearer than I used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if this is new to you, then I hope that you will also join me in laying down your facade and embrace the Grace that sets you free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be spiritually healhty is to be God's.  To stand, kneel, or sit under his banner, not your own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224495200946020760-1445730240820604167?l=thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/feeds/1445730240820604167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4224495200946020760&amp;postID=1445730240820604167' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/1445730240820604167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4224495200946020760/posts/default/1445730240820604167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetruthisafterme.blogspot.com/2007/10/what-would-jesus-eat.html' title='What Would Jesus Eat?'/><author><name>Erik Rasmussen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05813249112143027913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
