Sword of Truth: Balancing Faith and Reason

Originally posted at http://wp.me/puJQo-4B.

A year ago, I started the series Sword of Truth by Terry Goodkind. Over the course of the last year, I've read all 12 books, a total of almost 10,000 pages. Some may ask, what in God's name possessed me to read 10,000 pages? The story that Terry Goodkind weaved was, by far, one of the best stories that I had ever read. I could identify with the main character (Richard) and the intellectual appeal to reason. The characters had depth, the issues that were addressed were complex, and Goodkind's ability to weave multiple storylines kept me reading.

While I was down in Florida earlier this month, I finished book 11 and couldn't wait to read the final book and finish the journey that I had started. After purchasing the book and reading at a breakneck pace, I neared the end of book 12. Yet, as I read, the ideas that Goodkind had started early in the series were coming together...and they were not something that I could agree with.

Roughly around books four and five, the main villain for the latter portion of the series was introduced: Emperor Jagang. Jagang is the leader of the Imperial Order, a movement which is largely fanatical in nature, advocating that humans are evil by nature and cannot be redeemed until the afterlife. As the series progresses, readers are introduced ad nauseum to the ideas of the Order and what it stands for--blind faith in the Creator. This is a stark contrast to the Wizard's Rules, which are based on reason and logic.

As book 12 ended, it became clear that the Order was representative of Christianity--ideas of the former remnants of the Order being referred to as "men of God," the emphasis on faith over reason, and humans being inherently sinful all came to the fore and were clearly related to religion. The story was resolved--reason and logic triumphed over blind faith. The tangible, law-governed forces of the world won the battle against those intangible, emotionally-based forces.

In the process of reading, I was disturbed by what I read. What Goodkind was implying shook me up a great deal and has caused me to question my beliefs in a way that I didn't think possible. Religion was characterized as villainous, evil, and stealing the magic away from life. Those who followed it were brutish, inhuman, and vile people. Let me pause for just a moment and say that Goodkind is an adherent to Rand's philosophical view of objectivism. Objectivism, in short, is concerned with "rational self-interest" as Rand put it.

Ultimately, Rand's ideas are played out in the battle between Richard and the Order. Richard represents the rational mind--the man who chooses to think and despite prophecy, enacts his own free will, confounding the rest of the characters. The Order represents the lack of rational thought, with most of the ideals held dear by the Order seeming absurd and contradictory when juxtaposed to the Order's cause.

What is perhaps most disturbing, yet not surprising, is that the side of religion is characterized as being a way for people to escape rational thought. Characters tow the party line as the Order brutalizes entire populations into following its dogmatic approach to existence. Time and time again, individuals abandon rational thought in favor of a better existence in the afterlife.

As a disillusioned, yet professing Christian, I find the ideas in the series difficult to grapple with. While there may be some circles of Christians that lack rational thought, there are also those who value being able to think rationally. Perhaps it's because I am older and in grad school that I find the central premises of Goodkind's works (and thereby, Rand's) to be so tasteless. I agree that rational thought has a place in one's day-to-day interactions. However, so does faith. To make a sweeping statement that all religion is merely an escape from rational thought is dangerous. I will agree that some individuals may use faith as a crutch, rather than incorporating rational thought into their thought patterns. I may even agree that in the past, many religions have brutalized others into towing a dogmatic line at the risk of physical or intellectual death. I do not agree that this is always the case.

In my understanding, faith and reason have what some scholarly circles call "dynamic interplay" or "dialectical tension." That is, one cannot exist without the other and exist in tension with the other. Faith and reason must be in balance with each other. Faith must not abandon rational thought and neither must rational thought abandon faith. Even Paul encouraged Timothy to keep a level head about him, to reason with what he heard (2nd Tim 4:5). Blind faith needs reason to balance it out, to ground it, to say, "Remember that you have a mind of your own and that God meant for you to use it." Reason needs faith to lift it beyond the bounds of time and space, to remind it that there are miracles, and to say, "Don't get sucked down into the mire of human existence--not everything is rational or knowable." Thank God that unconditional love isn't rational, and that Christ is the perfect balance of reason and faith.

Captchas

Hey all!

I know I've been inactive for a couple of days. However, I have ran across some funny things the last couple of days. Namely, captchas. I don't know if many of you are familiar with them, but they are security tools that require people to type a sequence of words in order to download a file online. In any case, I got these ones and thought you all might enjoy them, too.
[slideshow]

Aaron

School

Warning: Before you read any further, know that the content of this post may be depressing.

That being said, I am so tired right now. School is running me over. I feel like I'm not getting anywhere. I'm in classes that are just for the credits, and my yet-to-be-completed assignments have little to do with what I want to do with my life.

It seems like the closer I get to graduating, the more pieces of my soul are sloughed off. On top of the fact that I am stuck in doing papers that are fruitless, I am still going through a TON of family crap. GAH! I just need a break before I collapse.

Other sites

Hey all, just wanted to mention some other sites out there that I am maintaining at the moment: In the Know 865 and The Idea Graveyard. Check them out!

The Idea Graveyard is just a fun little site that I put together. However, if you live in Knoxville, you should check out In The Know 865. It's all about food and drink reviews for Knoxville.

Peace!

Facebook etiquette or How to have argument on Facebook

This morning, I woke up, ambled over to my computer, and checked my email and Facebook.  I saw that I had a notification for a comment on one of my statuses and clicked on it.  With the comment being an not-so-close friend, but a friend nonetheless, I assumed that the comment would be positive...but it wasn't.  Rather, the way in which it was written could be perceived as sarcastic.

What irks me the most about the situation, is that it was put up on Facebook by someone older (mid-twenties) than me.  Really?  Do you feel the need to start something over Facebook? Rather, do you feel that it is appropriate to comment in such a fashion that it could be perceived as being an attempt to start something?  In any case, here are some practical pointers/suggestions about posting on Facebook.

Conflict on Facebook
1.) If your status can be perceived as anything other than you mean for it to be perceived as, DON'T POST IT.

2.) Consider a taxonomic means of classifying your posts. E.g., "Opinion:  I think that broccoli is the most disgusting vegetable ever" or "Fact:  It is raining."

3.) If you are taking issue with somebody's post, don't be a douchecow and comment directly on the post!  Send them a Facebook message or email.  You're less likely to create conflict where EVERYBODY can see it!

4.) If you see a post of your friend cheating on his girlfriend, or you see a pic of your underage sister drinking pop up on your mini-feed, DON'T call them out of Facebook!  That is tacky, uncouth, and they don't need you to comment on Facebook about it!

5.) Parents, now that you can get on Facebook, consider that you may find things out about your kids that you don't want to know--don't whine, rant, "yell," post, complain on Facebook.  You are an adult--handle your issues with your kids as if you are an adult!

6.) If you post something, and somebody comments on it, initiating some sort of conflict on Facebook, be responsible enough to REMOVE the status/comment (your decision) and talk to that person directly...not over your status.

7.) Don't argue with somebody else over their comments on somebody else's post!  That's their issue, not yours!

8.) Remember:  Some stuff posted online is OPINION, not fact!  Therefore, don't get your panties in a wad and take offense to it!  You can argue facts, but opinions are another matter.

9.) Your status is NOT the medium to attack somebody else.  Grow the hell up.

10.) Facebook chat is NOT an acceptable means of hashing out conflict!  Grow a pair an talk to the person either on phone (not as bad, but still a poor means of addressing conflict), or talk to them in person (much better).

*     *     *     *

So, in light of the fact that you can damage relationships (among other things) on Facebook, by not exercising a bit of discernment and maturity, think about what is necessary to post and what isn't necessary.

New Things

Last night marked a major shift in my life--I got engaged!  My girlfriend, Ashley, and I have been dating for almost 4 years.  We began dating on June 11th, 2006, two weeks before I left the US to do a two month long internship in Leipzig, Germany.  Three years and 8 months later, we are finally engaged!  In any case, I am super-pumped!  If you want more details, feel free to leave a comment and I will tell you directly.

Technology Overload/Being Overconnected

If you are a "NetGen-er" (those born from the mid 80's to early 90's), or are a techno-savvy baby boomer, or Gen X-er, then you've probably noticed the changes that Facebook made to their layout yet again. I reacted negatively to the change.  Really, how many times does the layout need to change?  Now, I have to figure out how to view my profile, why my chat moved...and what the heck is up with the search bar moving to the top of the page?!?

But that wasn't the only  technological change that hit the masses this week.  Google decided to throw its hat in with the Twitter/Facebook crowd and add "Buzz" to the Gmail email client.  Buzz is basically Twitter, but only for those people that you truly care about.  It features the ability to upload photos, like Facebook; The ability to "like" a status, like Facebook, and the the convenient status stream that both Twitter and Facebook utilize.

My question is:  Why?  What is this obsession that we have with constantly "improving" social networking and electronic communication?  Is there a point to which efficacy will no longer matter?  Can we be too effective at "improvement?"  Are we, instead of improving on technology, becoming socially connected to a unhealthy point?  One of my colleagues made mention of something her daughter said:  "Mom, it's like 1984 has come to be, except instead of 'Big Brother' watching, we're watching each other."

What's strange is, that I have to agree.  We are becoming more and more "connected" to each other, obsessed with self-disclosing.  What I see in all of this is some strange obsession with seeming important, or having some 15 minutes of fame.  There are several things that disturb me about this:

Ease
We've made it so easy to self-disclose.  A click here, an edit there, and we are able to, in a relatively short amount of time, create online personas, complete with everything that people could possibly want to know about us.  It is my belief that this is phenomenally dangerous, even with the ability to "control" privacy in these online forums.  Without much effort, it is fairly easy to discover anything a person wants to discover about another person.  Thus, it doesn't require much effort to broadcast anything that a person wants to broadcast, and it is easy to stalk somebody.

A General Lack of Real Connection
What these "improvements" are resulting in is a lack of personal connection.  Rather, they absolve a person of any sort of commitment in relationships.  The degree of commitment that I am inferring that one is absolved of, is best explained by the following.  A person "checks up on" another person online by viewing a profile or status updated, but doesn't bother to call or text the person.  Rather they "comment on a status" or "post" something to another person's account. What about face-to-face contact?

In any case, I am concerned about the level to which our society has become technologically connected.  It seems to me that there may be too much being sacrificed in order to become connected.  We improve, and improve, researching and following the demands of the unwashed masses, and in turn, lose touch with each other.  We sacrifice community in order to be connected.  This is the heart and soul of the human experience--to be in community--and it is quickly being lost, lest we recognize that online interaction is only a tool. The nuances, expressions, and other characteristics involved in interacting face-to-face cannot be replace by a cheapened online imitation.

Slow day...

Wow, today has been a particularly slow day here at work.  Not really much going on in the way of silly people bringing in machines eaten up with viruses...well, except for this one case.  But it was more of one of our techs making a goofy mistake.

In any case, I am phenomenally bored with classes.  My attention span wanes daily, as I am preparing to make a rather huge life choice. I am stuck, however, waiting on a certain item to arrive before I can make that life choice.  I know, I know, I'm being vague.  But I have to be, lest details be divulged ahead of their proper time.

I'm hoping to get in some time with Dad tonight.  If you've kept up with all of my other posts, you know that being around him has been a little more than just awkward.  Regardless, I am trying to start this relationship anew.  At the risk of waisting any more of your time, I shall take my leave.  Oh, be sure to check out my photos page, as I am uploading some new pictures now.

Aaron

Silly grad student, computers are for smart people

Dear readers,

This post is going to be one of the first IT posts that I am going to write. So, for this inaugural IT post, I am going to pick on a grad student that came in recently. First, however, let me state that I am a grad student, so I feel that I am well qualified to pick on this particular person.

The Witch

Monday began well and good, no abnormal viruses or any sort of weird computer incidents...that is, until lunchtime rolled around.  As usual, we got a rush of people right around lunch time coming in for help with their computers.  The way that our system works, people fill out a digital form at what we call a "ticket station" that filters support requests between the actual tech support group, and our other team that handles other types of requests.  After people fill out their "ticket," there is a space where they can sit and wait until they are called.

Now, this one woman came in for support with her unit and filled out a ticket, yet refused to sit down.  At first, it was ok.  She stood at the front of the seating area.  However, it became annoying when she began shifting her weight, back and forth.  She began huffing and rolling her eyes, to boot.  So I leaned over to a tech who wasn't with a customer and asked her to see what the woman needed, as the rest of us were with customers and the woman's ticket hadn't appeared on our queue.  The tech asked the woman what she needed, and directed the woman to take a seat until her ticket came up in our queue.

"I've been here many times before!" Shouted the woman.  "I know how this works!  I don't want to sit down!  I feel like I'm in Kindergarten!"

With all of our techs taken aback, we backed off, letting the woman stew while we continued to help customers.  Once the woman's ticket came up and she was called from where she was standing, she continued to act horribly to the tech that called her over.  She berated, yelled, and was overly sarcastic to the tech, without the tech, or our department, having done anything to earn her ire, as her computer was brand new in the system.

She returned yesterday, after she received an email that we would have to reformat her unit.

"I was told I wouldn't have to sign any more paperwork!" She screamed at a different tech, who was again, wholly undeserving of her tirade.  About that time, I left for class, annoyed that she would treat someone like that.

Over the course of the time she was with our techs, it became clear that she believed she was superior to what she thought were just undergraduate students.  Admittedly, grad students have a hard time respecting undergrads, but this was just too much.  How could she treat someone like dirt?  If she was so smart, I wonder why she couldn't remedy the issue?

The Lesson

Folks, let this be a lesson to you:  Don't mess with IT people.  We are humans, too.  We have lives, kids, hopes, and dreams, much like the rest of the world that isn't computer savvy.  We aren't here to be carpets to be walked all over.  We aren't obligated to fix your computer.  Also, keep in mind that it is worth your time to have a healthy amount of respect for IT people--we can mess your computer up to a point that there could be irreparable damage.  So remember, instead of yelling at us because you watch too much porn and it destroys your hard drive, try being civil...and maybe we won't laugh at you.

Adding Some New Posts

Folks,

I apologize for my absence and lack of writing. However, when you're a grad student preparing to get engaged, writing and any sort of fun activities go to the wayside. In any case, I've since started a new job doing IT work. As such, I encounter some frustrating, as well as hilarious cases. That being said, you can look forward to some entertaining rants in the near future. Keep posted!

Aaron

Business Venture

In other news, I am starting a new venture with a friend.  It's called In the Know 865. In the Know 865 just launched last week. The site is a food and beverage review site that features a master drink special list highlighting weekly drink specials. In addition to the master drink list, the site will be partially user driven through the means of allowing users to send in suggestions for restaurants to be reviewed. Bookmark the site and visit often to keep up with the master drink list and other reviews.

Aaron

"To be, or not to be...it's a question"

During my undergrad, I worked as the Communication Assistant for the community development center at the college I was at.  When I started the position, my supervisor asked me to come up with some job responsibilities, as it was a brand new.  I quickly discovered that I would become a "jack-of-all-trades" for the office, fixing computers, setting up networks and printers, and doing just about everything else that anyone needed in addition to the things that fit inside my job description.  As I fondly remember my undergrad, one thing became clear to me as I thought about my job--I would take on things that I was neither responsible for doing, nor did those roles coincide with what my job was.

A couple of nights ago, I had another encounter with my dad.  Mike, a church member who is letting dad stay at his place while he recovers, was stuck in court and would not be able to pick dad up.  Once again, dad and I had an awkward car ride back to the east side of Knoxville.  After inquiring about my new job and how it was going, dad asked, "Hey, would you mind taking me by Krogers?  I need to grab a few things to eat."

Not wanting to say, "No," and thinking that perhaps spending time with him would maybe start some sort of healing process, I said, "Sure, dad.  No problem." We pulled into the parking lot, got out of the car, and proceeded to walk inside.

"Does this bring back memories," asked dad, referring to the years that we lived on the east side and frequented this same Krogers.

"Yeah...I guess it does."

I went through those automatic doors, my mind going back more than a decade when I weighed much less and was cuter, too.  "Tortillas," said dad. "I need tortillas."  So we ambled on back to the dairy section and on the way there, we ran into Steve Loy.  Steve goes to our church and his wife is helping my mom through this process.

Dad and Steve exchanged greetings.  Steve turned to me and through his thick, handlebar mustache said, "I don't think we've met before.  I'm Steve," and stuck out his hand.

"Aaron." I stuck out my hand, grasping Steve's in a firm grasp.

After our introduction, I bid Steve a good night, turning with dad to hunt down tortillas.  Dad had to grab a few more items before we headed to the self check out lane.

"Dang it! I forgot Diet Coke," huffed dad as he set the few meager items on the scanner.

"I'll get it."

Shuffling back through the line, I did another lap around the store, during which I felt oddly like one of the Nascar drivers that were displayed on more than a few shirts that I'd passed.  Grabbing two bottles for dad, I made my way back to the checkout and bumped back into Steve.

"So how're you holding up" Steve asked.

"Eh...I'm hanging in there."

"I know it's rough.  I had something similar happen when I was your age."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You're the oldest, right?"

"Uh-huh," I nodded.

"Me too.  I always felt like I had to fix things, be stoic, you know, hold the family together."

A lump started to well up in my throat, signaling that tears were due any second.

"I want you to know that you don't have to fix it. This is your parents' time to work things out.  You've had so much put on you that you should have never had put on you in the first place.  You've adopted so many roles that were never yours.  You don't have to be anything for anybody.  You just have to be Aaron."

I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders.

"Aaron, the Diet Cokes!" Dad came and grabbed them from me as I left Steve.

The rest of my night moved in slow motion, as I thought about what Steve had said. "You just have to be Aaron."  I thought to the night before, when mom had talked to me about GiGi--my great-grandfather.  "He treated you as if you were his ONLY grandchild...you two had a special relationship."  Suddenly, I thought about all the times that I would sit in his lap as we watched TV or sipped on Pepsis.  I thought about how GiGi used to take me to a little playground in the middle of the trailer park, where I would climb an old slide that always got too hot during the summer, then slide down into his arms.

Just like that job, I have taken on too many things that were not mine to worry about and attempted to fill roles that I was never meant to fill.  I've become so many things, yet haven't taken the time to be me, to be Aaron.  It's as if God had wanted me to run into Steve, because I'd heard similar things from other people over the last two weeks.  But it didn't hit me until that night, that God doesn't need me to be stoic, or a fixer, or anything other than me.  God just wants me to be me, to sit on his lap, to sip some Pepsi, and to slide down into his arms.  He's not looking for me to perform, or to jump into some self-assigned role. What's important to him and to his heart is for me to be me, for me to be stripped bare of all the things that I've taken on and become.  He wants his child.  He wants the time to for me to sit with him and let him love on me without me rushing off to do something that is ultimately in his hands and is for him to rectify.

He just wants me to climb up into his lap, lay my head on his chest, and be...me.

Andes Mints, Pepsi, and Bob Barker

December 29th, 2009 - A part of me died when my dad attempted to commit suicide.  I know, it's pretty hard to read, let alone live the experience.  Today marked the two week mark since I had last talked face-to-face with him, and let me just say, it was difficult to talk to my dad.

My day started off well enough.  I got up, scrambled to get take my morning shower, pack lunch, and make it to my new job at UT on time.  Upon arriving at the University's computer support office, I clocked in and ate my breakfast of "digestive health" blueberry acai yogurt with some granola.  All in all, my day was going well as I helped students troubleshoot various issues with their computers--namely viruses acquired over the Christmas break.  The day took a turn for the strange and dark when I had lunch with my mom who also works at the University.

I had already had my lunchtime meal of pizza and salad when I walked down to her office.  It was there that we discussed life as it pertained to the incident of my dad's suicide attempt.  It was there that I confessed to her that I felt as if I never really knew my dad, seeing as how fidelity had been a major issue in their marriage since it began.  I also confided in my mom that I felt that even though I had a biological father, I do not feel as if I know what a real father is, or how a real father behaves.  It was then that she relayed this story to me.

"When I was little, about three or four," she said, "we lived in some apartments that grandma and grandpa owned.  There was a storm one night--do you remember the storms in Phoenix?"

"The dust storms?"

"No, the thunder storms."

"Yeah, I remember them."

"Well, there was one night where there was a real bad thunderstorm.  There was a huge crack of lightning that made the power go out.  I screamed because I was so scared.  As I screamed, I turned around and there was grandpa, on his knees with his arms open.  I ran into them and he wrapped me up in his arms.  That's who God  is to me and what a father is to me."

I then told my mom, that at least she had that.  I don't feel that I have any model for what a father looks like in the sense of how a father nurtures his children and cares for their wellbeing.  As I told that to my mom, I broke down, sobbing in her office.

"Can I pray for you?  Can I pray that God will bring a man in your life who will guide you through manhood and fatherhood?

"Yes," I sobbed, my face covered in tears.

Fast forward to later this afternoon--I get a call from my dad stating that he needed me to give him a ride, as he had no other way of making it back to the place where he was staying.  Knowing that the car ride would be awkward after not having seen him in two weeks, I begrudgingly agreed to take him to the house where he was staying.

After closing shop at work, I went to my dad's workplace, where I waited for what seemed an eternity for what would end up being a frustrating ride back to the east side of Knoxville.  Dad came out, hopped in the car, apologizing for causing such an inconvenience to me.  We shot the breeze at first, avoiding the inevitable question of "why."  After talking about my new job and enduring a rather uncomfortable couple of silent minutes, dad said, "I'm sorry I didn't call you on Tuesday. I was just trying to reach out to anybody and when I couldn't get a hold of Ryan, I called Megan."

As we road through downtown Knoxville, nearing our destination, I then saw the marks on his wrist where he tried to slit them with a dulled box cutter--"I just couldn't finish it," he said.  "Plus I didn't know how to do it."  He then told me about what it was like getting checked into the psych ward at Parkwest.  "I had to pee in a cup.  When they got it back to me, they said I had tested positive for marijuana and barbiturates, but they got it mixed up with somebody else's sample, so I had to pee again."  Drawing closer to the house where dad was staying, he regaled me with tales of staying the six days at Peninsula--including the 80 year old man being treated for alcoholism and tossing his feces filled Depends at other patients.

"Mike got a dog, didn't he?"

"Yes he did...you wanna come in and see him?"

I paused, not sure of whether or not to go into the house.  "Sure, I'll come in."

We walked around Mike's house, which I had not been to since I'd helped him move in over the summer.  Waylon, Mike's dog named after Waylon Jennings, greeted me by bringing a stuffed hedgehog with half the head gnawed off.  Dad put Waylon outside to relieve himself and walked back through the kitchen.

"I can understand if you're mad.  What I did was the most selfish thing that I could have done."

"Do you believe that, or is that something you just believe because of what mom or somebody else has said?"

"I believe it...and I have a lot of regrets."

After growing accustomed to hearing my dad offer excuses for past actions, I didn't know how to react to him not having any.  If anything, I think that I may have been more frustrated at him for not putting up some sort of defense.   After ending the conversation with a long hug, I left.

"We'll catch up sometime later this week."

"Alright son.  I love you."

"I love you, too."

I returned to my apartment in silence, no bluegrass blaring through my speakers, no NPR recounting the day's events.  I slowly rode up the hill to my building, running over speedbumps, each one thumping like a hammer putting nails in a coffin.  The part of my dad that I had internalized was dead--he was more of a peer now than a father.

After grabbing a brief bite to eat, joining a few friends for some coffee then beer, I received a call from my mom.  It was during this call that I told her much of what I've written.  However, she mentioned GiGi--my great-grandfather.  She had no real reason to mention him or to even bring him up. As soon as she said his name, I began to cry, my mind being flooded with some of my earliest childhood memories.

"Think of GiGi, Aaron.  Think of him."

My mind jumped back to walking up the stairs covered in astroturf, seeing the soda can airplane lazily swinging back and forth from the tin porch ceiling.  I remembered the Andes mints and Pepsis that I got every time I went over to his house.  I remembered the Star Wars and Transformers figures, the first ones ever made, that I would play with as GiGi would fondly watched me.  I remembered watching him rock back and forth in his recliner as he would invite me into his lap to watch Bob Barker on "The Price is Right."

"See Aaron," mom said, "You do have that.  You have an example for the heart of God in your own life."

I fell onto my bed, sobbing and weeping harder than I have in ages--I know the Father, through Andes mints, Pepsi, and sitting in GiGi's lap as Bob Barker would call, "Come on down!"  I know my Father.

Hold up my arms: Living in community

Life is never normal.  I'm 22, almost 23, and should know this by now.  It never fails that just when things seem to arrive at that oh-so-coveted status of "normal," things, whether it be family, friends, or something else, a curveball comes screaming out of the void and shakes my carefully ordered world.

A curveball once again threw me off of my game this past Tuesday night when I got the call from my mom that, "I need you to get into the car now and come out to dad's work...we think that he's going to commit suicide."  At that point, I was in the car with my girlfriend, Ashley.  We rushed out to my dad's work to find my mom, my brother, and my sister along with an officer searching the premises in sub 30 degree weather.  Over the course of the next several hours, I would experience true community in a way that I never had seen previously in my life.

As the night progressed, not only did more police officers continue to show up, one by one, at my dad's work, but several people from my church community also came to provide support for our family.  My dad was eventually found wandering around his work.  Whether or not he was serious about committing suicide, I don't know.  What caused the whole incident--irrelevant at this point.

However, what has come out of this entire ordeal has been on my mind for some time.  That is the concept of community.  As my family has continued to try and understand what happened and how to best get our minds around this situation, I have been continually amazed and astounded at the community that my family and I am in.  In my family's past, we've seldom experienced a group of people committed to walking through things with us.  The last time that I can remember other people taking time out of their busy schedules to get down in the muck and mire with us was well over a decade ago.  It is only in this most recent familial crisis, as an adult, that I have experienced the love of God and true community in the way that it was meant to be.

Much like Moses of old, the community that I am now experiencing is holding up my arms as me and my family fight for emotional, physical, and psychological health.  It means so much to me now, to understand as grown man, to understand what true community means, and the cost of being part of one.  

It is in this circumstance that I am finally realizing how important it is to have a solid community of people around me, providing support and encouragement.  Perhaps not even "finally realizing..." maybe the correct phrase would be that I am coming into a revelation of community--one that reflects a biblical perspective.  Instead of being cast to the proverbial wolves and being forced to work things out on our own, our family has been surrounded by unconditional love.  I see now that this kind of love by the community has a great cost.  Individuals have freely and unbegrudgingly