Captain_Spock's Xanga

Sunday, July 10, 2005

Sun, 10 Jul 2005 22:35:20 GMT

Hey, friends . . . :::smiles::: Well, it's been a long time. :-p For those of you who still check around often enough to read this, I thank you for your kindess. For those of you who stopped checking back, and thus can't possibly be reading this, remember that Job waited 20 years for Eliaphaz to post on his blog, and kept checking back every day out of those years, and God commended him for his patience. (This fact, though not recorded in the Bible can be found on google, just type in Job+Blogwriter, and as surely as the rain falls from an azure sky, you will find it.)

I'd love to leave personal messages for you all, but I simply don't know who you all are. :-p So contact me . . . the usual places. jordan.estrada@students.phc.edu, or Aroekano Nenova (It's pronounced ArROW-ka-know NE-nova for the curious among us. ) I'll be glad to talk to you. Or if you want to see the REAL Jordan, come visit me at PHC, I'm staying there over the summer. If you have cookies to send me, send them to Jordan Estrada, One Patrick Henry Circle Box 161, Patrick Henry College, Purcellville, VA, 20132.

Ahhh . . . so what can I tell you? Life has been good . . . growing up has been good. I have gone into trials, as well as had them come to me. My heart has been and is full of many things . . . but that's good, too. In all my travels, I have four things I've brought back for you; a praise, a parable, a peeve, a perspective, and challange. (Hahaha, you were so sure the last one was gonna begin with P, too! Tricked you!!! Again!!!! )

First . . . my praise. I searched for God with all my heart, and I found Him. And now I never wanna stop searching for Him again. I feel like, when I was saved, that was when God found me. But then He invited me to search out Him, to run with Him, to run towards Him. And I did, and now I'm basking in His awesome, awesome glory. 'Course, the closer I got to God, the worse of a person I became, funny how that happens. :-p That's why we like the dark. We can be like "yo, dude, look at me, I'm suave." and everyone's like "sho'nuff, dude, yo suave." But then . . .we get pushed out into the light, and, oh, man, we're wretched rotting, un-dead cursed pirates that turn into skeletons in the moonlight. :-p The more I've run to the light, and the closer I've drawn to Christ, the less respect I have for myself . . . but that's okay. My sin, oh the bliss of the wonderous cross; my sin, not in part, but the whole . . . is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more, praise the LORD, it is well, with my soul! Now everything's about Him. I'm no longer trying to sanctify myself so I can look good. I'm doing it so I can be more like Him, because the more I'm like Him, the closer we are as brothers. And that's what I want. And that's what I've found. For the first time in my life, I can say, I can sing, that I HAVE A FRIEND IN JESUS!!!!!

Then there's my parable. You know the running machines? The treadmills, that you get on, and pretend to be exercising on, when you really should be out running (unless you're like my dear dad, who lives on a hill made of sharp rocks, so running on hills isn't really productive, better use the treadmill . . . but all the rest of you. :-p). Well, imagine life as a treadmill. And you're running. And you slip. And all of a sudden, you're down on this speeding piece of rubber, and it's pulling you down, and you're out of control, and its going too fast for your feet, and you're gonna get dumped out on the rug. . . and then, suddenly, there's this big red flappy thing right before your eyes that says "IN EMERGENCY PULL TO STOP." And you, wise man or woman of the world that you are look at it, and scream, "AHHH, I can't DEAL with another decision, can't you see I'm in trouble? How can you expect me to deal with a little red flappy thing when I'm falling off my treadmill?" Well, that's what we do to God . . .what I do to God. We're facing trials in life, and God mercifully tells us, "Trust me, and it'll be okay." And we say we can't deal with it. I mean, how many of us, in time of trial haven't neglected our devotions, cuz we were too busy? But those devotions were the thing that would have made all the difference. We chose to fight our own battle, and neglected the help from on High. Don't do that, people. Put your troubles on hold. Even the urgent ones. Go to God first. You need Him more than your troubles need you.

Then, my peeve. Ahhhh, the fun part. Now I get to complain. Yes, this is a peeve, yay, even a pet peeve. :-p Here goes. I wish that if people wanted me to go away, they'd say so, and if they wanted me to stay, they'd make it clear. What are you supposed to do when someone's holding you out at arms length? It's impossible, because if you try to get nearer, they push you away, and if you pull back, they blame you for breaking away. But worst of all, you cannot relate to them in any way.. Give me a relationship, good or ill, and I will be happy. Make us enemies or friends, and I am content. I can relate to a hug, or a fist . . . but relating to a cold shoulder; that I have not yet learned. If people were upset with me, I wish they'd say something! I can deal with that. I can read minds, yes, but not everyone's all at once. :-p So if you don't tell me you're hurt by something I'm doing, chances are I won't know, and won't respond the way you want me too! So simple solution. :-p If you're frustrated with me, even if it's a little-itty-bitty-teeny-tiny-einsy-weinsy-too-small-to-fit-on-the-head-of-a-pin frustration . . . .? Tell me. We can talk it through. There's always a solution when two people are willing to talk about something. It bothers me, because there are all these people in the world, who are mad at me, and I don't know! Like I'll be talking to X friend, and they'll say, "Jordan, you know, K friend is hurt by the way you treated them." And I'll be like, "Oh, duh, when were they going to tell me?" So seriously (and this goes for anyone, really, it's just a generally good rule), if you're cross with me, or if you feel like our friendship isn't what you want it to be, come talk to me. I don't bite. Why use my teeth when I have so many knives around? Heheh . .. I save my knives for when I have problems with people. AND if all other negotiations have failed. :-p And I've never quite been at that point. :-p Yet. :-p Okay, so is that clear? I don't wanna have to repeat this. Next time, it won't be a nice happy post on my blog. Next time, I shall pace in front of you and do my little "I'm not happy Bob. NOT happy. Ask me why I'm not happy, Bob." song and dance routine. OOOh, scary, you don't want that, right? Right? Okay, cool, we're cool, then.

And then, my perspective. I've gone through a lot of hard times with friends. I've been rejected a lot, I've been betrayed, mistrusted, scorned. I've given everything to friends and had them hurt me in return. And it's been painful. But recently, an astonishing revalation came to me. All those times, I've had people mistrust me, spurn me, turn away from me, use me and then lose me . . . .:::whispers::: that's what I did to God. That's exactly how I've treated Jesus EVERY SINGLE time I had a friend who hurt me, they were just doing something I had done to Jesus, over, and over again. I've rejected God. Forgotten Him. Mistrusted Him. Turned to other things, instead of Him. Expected benefits from Him, but refused to commit to Him. Took from Him and gave nothing in return. Failed to love and thank Him. And the pain I've felt when people did these things to me, that's how I made Jesus Christ feel. . And yet, while I've been so tempted to be bitter, Jesus loved me ALL the more, even when I did these things to me, and continued to shower blessing on me, that I neglected even to be thankful for! Oh the sheer horror and wonder of it all! Can you grasp what I mean? Have you ever been hurt by a friend? That's how Jesus felt! That's how Jesus felt at the cross, multiplied a BILLION times over! And yet, He loves us . . . he loves us . . . He smiles fondly upon us, and blesses us with His hands. :::tears well up in eyes::: That's too much, people . . .too much. What do you say to something like that? When I realized this, I was stunned . . . my body sagged. I think I may have even fallen to my knees. And the only thing I can think is, My God, my God, why have I forsaken you? Father, forgive me, for I know now what I do. :::quietly::: And He did. What do you say to that?

So, that bring me to my challenge. . . Love God, people. Love Him with all your heart. Seek Him, every moment of the day. Seek him, relentlessly. Demolish anything that comes between you and Christ. Pursue Him. He found you first . . . now he wants you to find Him. You don't know Him like you ought. You don't love Him, as you ought. So hit the ground and don't stop running. Tear through the chains, the blinders, the thorns. Wipe away your tears and look up, for He is coming. NEVER, ever stop, until you come into the Kingdom. Every day you are not running towards God is a day you're running away from Him, just like Jonah ran to Tarshish. If your life feels good, even though you know you're not right with the Lord, then you're sleeping peacefully through your storm, like Jonah. Don't do it. I plead with you, make your life ALL about Christ. This song I love says it best:

All I once held dear, built my life upon
All this world reveres, and wars to own
All I once thought gain I have counted loss
Spent and worthless now, compared to this

Knowing you, Jesus
Knowing you, there is no greater thing
You're my all, you're the best
You're my joy, my righteousness
And I love you, Lord

Now my heart's desire is to know you more
To be found in you and known as yours
To possess by faith what I could not earn
All-surpassing gift of righteousness

Oh, to know the power of your risen life
And to know You in Your sufferings
To become like you in your death, my Lord
So with you to live and never die

There's the truth people. Go, and make it so . . . That's what I'm doing. There's nothing else more worth doing it. Don't settle for a life where Jesus is one option out of many. Make Jesus your life -- your whole life. Seek Christ RELENTLESSLY.

:::takes a deep breath::: Well, that's all I have to say . . . all I can say for now. Bet it was enough words to keep you busy for a while. :::grin::: Hey . . . I love all you people. Stay in touch. Know that, even if I can't talk to you a lot cuz of all I have to do, I want to, and I think of you.

May God bless each one of you richly.

Your brother,

Jordan

Friday, December 31, 2004

Fri, 31 Dec 2004 15:32:50 GMT

Once upon a time, there lived a boy named Jordan. He buttered his bread right-side-up, broke his breakfast eggs on the small side, always crossed streets at the corners, never drove faster than forty miles per hour, never drove at all because he didn't want to harm the ozone layer, paid his taxes, left cookies for the mailmen, left generous tips for the waitresses - even the ugly ones, never chewed on his eraser, always sat quietly and attentively in school, never rang old lady's doorbells and then ran away, never rang the service bell at stores more than once and then waited patiently for the clerk to come, never climbed trees in parks, never used the word "stupid" or told anyone to "shut up," never played with sharp objects, never ran with sharp objects, always held sharp objects pointed dowards, including scissors, pencils, crayons, combs, card board boxes, and anything else that might have a pointed edge, always used things for their intended purpose, or did not use them at all if their intended purpose was unclear, never chased chickens or frightened small animals, never played roughly with other boys, never used road spikes, road tacks, fiber wire, trip wires, fishing-line, anti-tank obstacles or land mines, always stayed on the trail, always followed the signs, never went exploring without a grownup or guardian, never went shopping without a grownup or guardian, never spoke to a girl without a grownup or guardian within at least twelve feet, never used a sharp object without adult supervision, never played with zippo lighters unless they were empty and had been checked by a member of the Volunteer Fire Department, always reported theft and larceny (grand or small) to the proper authorities, always reported mean talking to the propper authorities, never sped in a golf cart, never overturned a golf cart, never sunk a golf car in more than five feet of water, shunned abandoned houses and haunted houses, never watched any movies that weren't rated G, never watched anything that wasn't a cartoon made before the year 1960, never declared war on another soverign country unless they deserved it, never engaged in warefare unless negotiations had gone on for longer than five minutes, never disrupted negotiations except for declaring war, Never declared war more than twice a week, and above all: made certain never to touch knives, swords, or any kind of weapon that might hurt someone.

. . . And then there came a day when they clicked the "refresh" button and . . . Behold! there appeared a new post!!

****Wind, Sand, and Stars (And lots of other things)****

. . . .

Starring Jordan J. Estrada

. . . .

Co-Starring J. Santiago Estrada

. . . .

Produced by Jordan J. Estrada

. . . .

Adapted from a book written by Jordan J. Estrada

Hey, all my friends. Thanks so much for your faithful commenting and propping during my long exile. Having served a years time, I am currently on parole, pending my reincarceration. Reincarceration is like reincarnation, except reincarnation involves dying and coming back as another creature, while reincarceration doesn't. But you could confuse the two if you were reading very fast - which you, since this post is characteristically boring. :-p

Well, I would tell you how I'm doing, except those of you who care have already asked and been answered, and those of you who don't care, needn't be bothered. So, the reason for this post, is ("Reason?" you ask in shock. "Reason has anything to do with it?" "Well, a little," I answer lamely. "How little?!" you demand. "Yea little?" I hold my hands up a little distance apart. "THAT little?!?!" you explode. "Well . . . yeah." I apologetically admit. "What, you expected MORE?!?!" And then you turn deathly pale, because you realizes that Jordan Santiago has defeated you in YET ANOTHER argument!)

:::cough::: The reason for this post is to let you know that I'm all still alive. :-p

And, more importantly, to let you know that each one of you has been in my thoughts and prayers throughout the past semester. I realize I've only been a shadow of the friend I once was to some of you, since I've gone off . . . but just know - friendships change, but they do not die, if they were ever made of sturdy stuff.

To all those of you who are alone and who sorrow on this New Year's eve know that our LORD has proclaimed beauty for ashes . . . for mourning, the oil of joy . . . for a spirit of sorrow, a garment of praise . . . freedom, for all those who are bound . . . . be comforted; and hope.

And consider yourself smiled-at-encouragingly by your friend and brother,

Jordan J. Estrada

Until next time . . . I bid you all Godspeed, a bright sky, and may the wind ever be at your back.

Thursday, August 19, 2004

Thu, 19 Aug 2004 11:22:43 GMT

Dear Friends,

Today is the last day of my summer, and tomorrow, I head back to college for the new semester . . . I look forward to seeing all of you who I shall see soon, and I will miss all of you who I'll be leaving behind. I would greatly appreciate your prayers, and rest assured; you have mine.

I know this blog has been entirely pathetic this summer, sort of like the Primordial Earth in prehistoric days, with long ages of mindless nothingness punctuated by occasional dissapointing evolutions. Hopefully, man will learn to walk upright at some time in the course of this blog's evolution, or the species may just become extinct one of these days. But for now, for all of you kind people who have dutifully spent your summers clicking the "refresh" button as you sit glued to your computer screen, waiting for me to post something, I shall now make a VERY LONG post, and hopefully, it will be so long, it will take you all the rest of this year to read it.

So, here's a short story I've written. I think it's the first short story I've ever composed (except for a few rediculous parodies I once wrote :-p) So I have no clue what to make of it. Short stories were never my thing, so be kind, I haven't bothered to rewrite or edit it much; it's pretty much still in primitive form. So, either enjoy it or despise, or remain indifferent it as you will, I simply don't care. :-p

I love all you people; and all those of you who are my friends, I appreciate you so much. I leave you with the words from Les Miserables, which have always meant so much to me:

One day more,

Another day, another destiny,

This never ending road to Calvary;

These men who seem to know my crime

Will surely come a second time,

One day more...

Tomorrow we'll be far away,

Tomorrow is the judgement day

Tomorrow we'll discover

What our God in Heaven has in store!

One more dawn

One more day

One day more!

Your friend in Christ,

Jordan J. Estrada

************

Somewhere along the path of life there was a portion of the road walled on one side by a great and tall and thick stone wall. It towered far above every head, and no hollowness could be sounded anywhere along its span. There was no stair or ladder to climb it, and because it stretched across a gap between two treacherous and unassailable mountains, there was no way to go around it, for the way was blocked by thorns and crags and dangers of all kinds.

Now in the path one afternoon, there were two men. One stood straight and proud, watching the younger, who was kneeling in the dust. He was tightly fastening the laces of his boots, and listening to the other man’s talk, but only with one ear.

“But brother,” the one standing was saying. “It is impossible! Human flesh is no match for stone that has withstood the ages of wind and water!”

“Yes, yes,” the young man said, eagerly and impatiently. “But a man once told me that even the weakest force can destroy the greatest obstacle, if only it is steadily applied.”

“Bah! Whatever effort you think you can make is so paltry, so weak; why it might take years, and still nothing. Why even bother?”

“Because I believe that it is better to go beyond the wall then to be trapped inside, and worth it to see the world with no wall to stand in the way.”

“Oh, but you will have to give up in the end,” the onlooker scoffed. “Even with the proper tools, it would take any man decades to make a breach!”

“Then I will commit my entire life to this task.”

A grunt of shock and disbelief. “You plan to stay here, and beat on this wall, forever?”

The man kneeling looked up, and his fierce eyes met and locked with the eyes of the scoffer. “Every day, from sunset to sunrise, I will come here to batter on this wall. I will kick at it until I cannot kick; and then I will strike it with my hands until they are too bruised; and then I shall have to run and ram my body against it with all the force I can muster. I will spend myself on these stones; and one day, they shall fall.”

They stared at each other for a long second, while each read the other’s eyes.

“Fool, boy. A great fool you are.” And the elder man turned with a scuffle of gravel and continued on the highway.

As he walked away, the young man stood and called after him. “And if anyone should ask of me, tell them! Tell them that Trillion is beating on a solid wall.”

But the man did not turn at his call, and pretty soon, Trillion was alone.

For a few moments, he stood there thinking, contemplating what his fellow had said, and what he was about to do. Finally, he sighed, and turning his back to the wall, took a few steps away from it before turning back to face it.

He looked up and down its vastness; from the thick roots of its dust covered foundations, to the high crest towering over his head, glittering in the sunlight.

“Here begins,” he muttered. And suddenly leaping forwards, Trillion jumped into the air and kicked hard against the wall. A loud smack of leather on rock resounded, and he bounced off, regaining his footing.

“One.”

Turning, he repeated the same exact motions once again, with the same result.

“Two.”

He turned and renewed his attack.

“Three.”

Beads of perspiration began to form on his forehead.

“Four . . . five . . .thirty . . . seventy. . .”

People walking by that evening did not bother the man. What business of theirs was it what a body chose to do for entertainment? Yet, perhaps the fact that he chose it so often changed that; for when, the next day, and the day after that, the man was still there, people began to wonder.

Three days later, “Ho there, sirrah, what are you doing?”

“I am beating down this wall!” came the breathless reply. The man who questioned laughed and passed him by.

Later that day a woman paused and watched him keenly. “They say you think you’re going to batter down this wall,” she queried. “But you don’t think that; you’re not doing that, right?”

“But I am,” Trillion replied between sallies. “And I swear, I will.” A triumphant look flashed across his face. “I’ve made two thousand, four hundred and two.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Trillion did not reply, charging the wall once more. “Two thousand four hundred and three!”

“You really are daft, aren’t you?” she asked after a pause.”

He shook his sweaty head. “Not at all. For I must go beyond the wall, but I have no tools, and no skills to make them. This is the only way.”

“But it’s. . .it’s simply idiotic. You’ll never be through, young man.”

“Oh yes I will . . . for even the weakest force can bring down the strongest obstacle, if steadily applied, with determination.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that. And what’s more, I don’t think you do, either! You can’t really be intending to do this.

Trillion grinned. “Watch me.”

“No thank you! Suit yourself.” She tossed her head and stalked off. Trillion turned back to the wall.

So it went on four days; and soon it had been two weeks since Trillion had begun his endeavor. Many people who passed on had incredulous comments for him when they found out what he doing, and cynical retorts if they already knew. Yet, like a dutiful worker, he showed up at that place every morning and hammered the gigantic dyke all day; only resting when he was too tired to stand.

It was during one of these rests that a few folk from the nearby village stopped by to talk to him. They tried to hide it, but it was obvious that they were some sort of committee, elected for the purpose of confronting him. As if to show that they meant no harm, and they really were his neighbors, they sat down in the dust next to him to talk.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Trillion said, looking from one to the other. “What gives?”

“My name is Wright,” said the leader of the group, “And these are my neighbors, Bailey and Bland.”

Trillion nodded to them. “I’m Trillion.”

“Yes . . . we; we know that,” Wright said, as if addressing an embarrassing situation with great delicacy. “About that.”

“What about it?”

Wright turned uncomfortably to Bailey, who’s dark, menacing eyes had not ceased to glare at Trillion.

“Enough is enough!” Bailey gruffly snorted. “Work should not be wasted. You have no right to squander all your time here, and we’ve come to put a stop to it.”

Trillion stood. “Well, then; I’m sorry, gentlemen, but that’s not happening, by any means.”

The three stood as well.

“Aren’t you tired of this?” asked Bland.

“You will be tired,” Wright put in.

“Simple neighbors,” Trillion replied. You’ve only come to tell me what everyone else has told me? That it is impossible, and I should stop . . . right?”

Heads nodded. “And that you must stop,” Bailey cut in.

“Why? What’s it to you? Did I ask for your permissions? Did I ask for your advice? Excuse me, sirs, but who are you to me?”

“Don’t you see!” argued Bland. “It’s the way the world works. If a man is honest and good and takes up reasonable works, and seeks peace with all men, and all nature, and all things, he is accepted and left alone. But when the fish decides to live on land, the school must bring him back. It’s really very simple. Everyone has to fit in somewhere. You have chosen to fit in nowhere. And that’s wrong; you don’t fit in!”

“I know that,” Trillion retorted. “And I am content with that. Maybe it is better not to fit.”

“But we all fit!”

“Then in all honesty, I must admit that I am glad I am not you.”

The three men shuffled and murmured a few angry words at this affront.

“And what’s more,” Trillion went on, “Look.” He pointed back to the wall, his fingers indicating a small depression where the rock was ever so slightly worn in. “There . . . you see? It can happen! It can!”

“That’s all?” Bailey exploded.

“And you expect us to be impressed with a little smoothed rock?” Wright chuckled.

Bland ran his hand over it. “Can’t feel a thing. I suspect all you’ve done is clean off a bit of dust and dirt.”

“Now there’s a task for a young man – and fit to his stature!” Wright smirked cruelly. “Don’t break it, clean it! I’m sure that that would be a Trillion-sized job, brothers.”

They laughed their agreement.

Trillion’s face flushed and he glared at them. “Go away and leave me. I am determined.”

“Come on, brothers, he’s quite pig headed about this all.” So with a few more sharp words, the three stalked off, and Trillion, mustering some bravado called after them. “Tell whoever sent you that Trillion will bring break a way through.”

Bailey turned sharply, viciously hurling a jagged pebble at Trillion. It whistled just by his ear. “Insolent boy! And mark me; that won’t be the last thing a clear-headed traveler doesn’t skip at your thick skull.”

So they wandered off. Trillion sighed, resting one hand against the wall, staring at the faint depression. He ran his hand slowly across it. Then he jerked back his arm and swung hard, hitting with the firm edge of his palm.

“Fifteen thousand and one.”

In the time that followed, the words Bailey had spoken proved true. His were not the last insults; and the taunting only continued. Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, and Trillion learned to ignore them. He rarely spoke to travelers now, but slowly and steadily kept up his assault.

Two hundred thousand, at last.

“Hey, you, freak!”

Trillion turned at the voice, just in time to catch a sharp stone on his forehead, hurled by another onlooker. He saw a spatter of red and felt sharp pain drill into his head. His teeth ground hard.

“Yeah, you! You want some broken rock, eh? Well take this!” And the man flung a heavy handful of gravel and mud and broken glass scooped up from the wayside with a strong swing of his brawny arm.

Trillion jumped back, shielding his face with his arms, but the bitter salvo spattered all over him.

With a harsh laugh, his assailant took to his heels and raced away.

Trillion cupped his hand to his face, feeling the warm blood drip over his fingers. He reeled slightly, but he caught himself and turned back to his wall. His worn fingers scraped over the rock, and a small shiver splintered off, dropping to the ground, leaving a tiny dent in its place.

Trillion rammed his shoulder against it. “Two hundred thousand and one.” But the blow was not nearly as strong as the last one. He rested for much longer that afternoon than before, and the next day, he did not return quite so early in the morning.

Someone heard from someone who had told someone else that it seemed like Trillion was flagging. It was not surprising to many.

Weeks passed on in a monotonous pattern.

It was the early evening of one day when a bevy of young girls came by on their way.

“Look, there’s that silly man again,” giggled one of the younger.

“All men are silly, Jana,” the eldest of the group proclaimed.

“Still, he’s not bad looking,” a third in the group piped up. “Let’s go talk to him!”

“No way! He’s freaky!”

“Oh, why not?”

“Come on, are you scared? We can run if he’s nasty.”

So giggling amongst themselves, they nudged each other forwards until they were a few feet from him.

“Hey there . . .” they tittered in an uncertain chorus.

Trillion glanced up to look at them, tiredly. It had been a few days since anyone had stopped to talk to him. “Hello.” He slammed against the wall with a loud blow.

A little scream escaped from the girl who had ventured closest to him, and she bounced back. “Whoa, that startled me!”

“I’m sorry.” Another dull impact.

“So . . . are you some kind of fool or something?”

“Yes, I probably am. I don’t care.”

“C’mon, girls, let’s go!” the eldest impatiently urged.

“You go away, you’re dull.” Snapped the younger girl, and turned back to Trillion. “Hey, don’t you ever do anything, like, go anywhere, or have any fun or something?”

“No.”

“What do you do all day, then?”

“Nothing but this.”

A sigh of disgust. “Do you want people to think you’re a loser?”

“He is a loser! Now can we please go?”

But just then, a young man sauntered up to them. “Hey, ladies,” he said coolly, scowling at Trillion.

The girls instantly changed their attitude when he appeared, and a shy round of “Hey, Chad,” greeted him, as they clustered around him with flirtatious looks.

Chad pretended not to notice. “Hey, you!” This was directed at Trillion. “You stay away from these girls, hear? No messing around with them!”

Trillion spun around, anger in his eyes at this provocation. But he bit back a response, and the anger faded, and he said calmly. “No fear; I mean no one any harm.”

“Well that’s good!” Chad retorted. He took a step toward him. “And you know what else? You have got to be the biggest sucker this side of the road!”

Trillion levelly caught his eye. “Think what you want. I don’t care.”

“You don’t care, eh?” Chad suddenly exploded. And up came his thickly muscled arm in a powerful punch.

“Oh my goodness!” screamed one of the girls as Trillion tumbled to the ground, felled by the unexpected blow.

Chad turned back to them, grinning from ear to ear. “Come on, babes; let’s get a move on things.” And putting his arms around two of their waists, he lead the girls quickly off, and they followed him willingly.

Groaning, Trillion rolled over in the dust and forced himself into a sitting position, leaning up against the wall. Blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, and from the side of his head where he had fallen onto the harsh gravel. The world was making strange rotations before his eyes.

“How many was it?” he mumbled to himself. “Three hundred thousand and . . . Three hundred thousand and . . . something. I think I’ll just sit here for a while . . .”

Some time later, he heard footsteps. A young woman was coming down the road. She quickened her pace when she saw him and was there in a second.

“Sir?”

No response.

“Sir, please get up! You don’t seem well . . . ”

“Go away.”

She tugged on his arm. “You’re hurt; you need help!”

Trillion did not move. “Yes, I know that.” He looked up at her. “What are you after?”

She seemed taken back by this. “I – ”

“If I look hurt, its because everyone who’s come by this way lately seems to think it their business to punish me for going about my business! But I’m not punished, and I’m not hurt, and I need to be here!” His voice sounded desperate.

The girl was silent for a second. Then, with a sympathetic sigh, she knelt down next to him, touching the side of his face. “You’re bleeding, let me help you.”

“Why should you help me?” Trillion asked grudgingly; but he did not resist as she gently dabbed his wound with her handkerchief. “Why do you want to help me? Go ahead, make your speech, mock me.”

“Why should I mock you? I don’t even know who you are, or what’s happened to you!”

“You will mock me, then.”

“I promise, I won’t,” she softly responded.

Trillion glanced up, reading her eyes, and she did not look away. “I’ve been here for almost a year. People mock me for it, because they don’t approve of what it is I do.”

“But what are you doing?”

He spoke earnestly now. “There’s nothing along this road for me! My only hope in life is to go beyond this cruel wall. If I don’t, any future I might have had is lost. but the only way through this wall is to breach it, and I have no tools, and no skill to make any. So I use myself, and batter on this wall endlessly, hoping against hope that in time, I’ll weaken it one pebble at a time, until it has to fall. . .”

She tilted her head, starring at him for a second. “No . . . truly?”

Trillion nodded, and suddenly, his face colored with shame. “It’s horribly absurd, isn’t it.”

“No, no!” she quickly retorted. “It’s amazing! I’ve never heard anything so extraordinary!”

She shot her a disbelieving glance. “Am I not a fool, though?”

She shrugged. “You don’t seem idiotic. You have something that most people don’t have. You haven an idea, a plan, and it is a worthwhile one.”

“But it’s impossible!”

“Did you think it was impossible when you started?”

“Well . . . no.”

“Why didn’t you think it was impossible then?”

Trillion thought for a moment. “Someone once told me that even the weakest force can lay low even the strongest obstacle, if it is only applied steadily, with determination. I guess I believed it then.”

“But you should believe it now!” Suddenly, the girl was very eager. “Not only is it not impossible, it has even been done before!”

She had finished cleaning the blood off his face, and she sat down next to him, with her back against the wall, hugging her knees, speaking in a thoughtful tone. “Have you ever seen ivy growing on a stone wall? It may take years, but eventually, even the ivy will break through. Year by year, as it grips the stones with its gentle fingers, eventually, the rock must yield. And have you ever seen water, dripping endlessly on stone? Water is soft, and slow to work, but in time, the water overcomes the rock.” A pause. “What’s your name, sir?”

He had been listening to her, very intently. “My name is Trillion.”

“Well, Trillion; you may not be the biggest and strongest thing I’ve ever seen, but – ” and here, she lightly punched his shoulder “ – you’re definitely stronger than water, or vines, and a great many other things. So this wall can’t resist your efforts forever. I know it can’t. You just have to keep at it, for as long as it takes.”

“I know . . . I have no other choice. I must, now.”

“And you will!”

“It just seems so difficult, and so long away, though. But that must not change my determination, must it?”

“No. And all the determination in the world doesn’t mean that you can’t use things to your advantage. You might try using a rock as a tool, you know.”

Trillion bit his lip and looked away. “I – I hadn’t thought of that. I’m sure it would have occurred to me, eventually.”

“I’m sure you would have thought of it,” she reassured. “Just remember. This wall is an enemy that can be fought in any way imaginable. And you will win out!”

Trillion turned back to her, gratefulness in his eyes. “What is your name?”

“I’m Crystal.”

“Crystal . . . I thank you. Your words are rare, and I needed them. But . . . why? Why even pity me, or bother to help me?”

A quiet smile crossed her face. “Not everything is so difficult to break through to. There are some barriers that will smash like glass. I can’t shut people out, Trillion. I have to break down walls, too. Same as you, it’s my hope, so I press on. But I have to be willing to shatter my own walls on other people’s behalf . . . and I try.”

“And you succeed . . . I can see it.”

“And I know you will, too.”

Trillion stood slowly. “Well, then . . . I guess there’s no time to waste.”

She stood as well, and squeezed his hand in parting. “Hope, Trillion. Nothing impossible has ever yet stood up against hope.”

“Fare well . . .and thank you! I will not forget your kindness.” And Trillion smiled, and it was a genuine smile, for the first time in a long time.

So she bade him farewell, and took up the path once again, and in a little while had disappeared along the way.

Trillion stared at the great wall, and as he did, a kind of euphoric fierceness rose up in him. “We are enemies then, the two of us, aren’t we? How we must hate each other by now! But if your stones could hate, they can fear; and you will fear me before the end!”

He paused in thought. “It was three hundred fifty thousand and four, was it not? Yes, that’s right.” And scooping up a nice round rock from the ground, he lunged at the wall, and slammed his new weapon into its side with all the strength of both his arms.

“Three hundred fifty thousand and five!”

Trillion could see a tiny hairline crack, snaking away from the place where his blow had landed. And had the wall shuddered?

It would soon.

Tuesday, July 06, 2004

Tue, 06 Jul 2004 22:51:21 GMT

"When shadows fall and the night covers all
There are things that my eyes cannot see.
I never fear, for the Saviour is near.
My LORD abides with me!

How can I fear? Jesus is near!
He ever watches over me!
Worries all cease; He gives me peace.
How can I fear with Jesus?

When I'm alone and I face the unknown
And I fear what the future may be,
I can depend on the strength of my Friend!
He walks along with me.

How can I fear? Jesus is near!
He ever watches over me!
Worries all cease; He gives me peace.
How can I fear with Jesus?

Jesus is King! He controls everything!
He is with me each night and each day.
I trust my soul to the Saviour's control;
He drives all fear away!

How can I fear? Jesus is near!
He ever watches over me!
Worries all cease; He gives me peace.
How can I fear with Jesus?"

Forth. . .and fear no darkness. Come and fight us, but you'll have to go through Him to get to us.

Perfect love casts out fear.

Sunday, June 20, 2004

Sun, 20 Jun 2004 23:57:02 GMT

Sooner or later, everything is bound to change. I’ve come face to face with that in major ways lately.

I said goodbye to a lot of things at Nationals. That was my circle. Everything I knew and loved was part of that circle. But now, I’ve left; and you really can’t go back, once you leave. Sort of like what Frodo said. . . How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go back, when in your heart you know . . . there’s no going back. There are some wounds that go too deep; some hurts that time cannot mend. It’s true . . . When once the dream ends and you’ve woken up again, there’s no return. You have to understand, it wasn’t just a matter of not being a part of the league anymore . . . it was more than just that. That was my life for five years. . . five years of triumphs, despairs, heartbreaks, successes, hurts, true friends . . . long enough, and anything will become a part of you, part of your flesh and blood, part of the way you think and feel and react.

It wasn’t an easy thing to understand and accept. I wanted to go back, I had to go back, I couldn’t let it go. It was one of those things where you have to be broken before you’ll accept it. I was broken. Thankfully, God broke me gently. You realize these things when you’re alone, in the dark, fighting back hot tears and running blindly through the rain until you can run no more, because you’re an outcast to everything you once loved and the pain is so real. Or sitting quietly, watching the sun go down, letting it all sink in. Or noticing some little, encouraging thing amidst the darkness and realizing that life goes on and love really is stronger than death.

Sometime in this life, you will eventually cross a line, where, before . . . life could fulfill you, and after it, only God could ever fulfill you. Before, you could be happy with a casual relationship with Jesus. . .but after, He is all you need, all you want, all you live for. Before, there’d be many things to turn to when the road was rough . . . but after, only the cross.

That’s where I am now. I’m crossing that line. . . And it isn't an easy step over. . .it's a very long crossing that may take me the rest of my life, and may involve more sacrifice and suffering and breaking than I can imagine now. But I need to cross it. . . I need Him to be realer than life, because, I need something to hold onto, and beyond Him, I am beginning to see that there’s nothing. And if He isn't realer than all the things I can't hold onto, then there's no hope. I’ve come to the place where the dream unravels, and what used to fill now only empties. I've come to the place where you have to let go of everything, having faith that Christ will catch you on the other side.

What happens next . . . Well, that will will be a miracle. But all the hope that is in me is waiting for it. . . and it will come.

“Can you believe in the miracle coming?

Can you believe it will take you away!

There will be living where once there was death

There will be new life in Jesus!

Can you believe, that the eagle will fly with the dove?

Can you believe there’s a rose in the raised fisted glove?”

Lord, let me look up and see the chariots that outnumber my foes. . . . for they are many, and they are very real.

Here I stand, sword drawn. As long as He lets me live. . .I am invincible.

. . . . . . .

It’s odd. . .even a few months ago, I never would have posted this where anyone could see it. But everything’s different. I’m not afraid anymore. They can't hurt me now.

I am His.

Monday, June 07, 2004

Mon, 07 Jun 2004 18:25:29 GMT

when the last have fallen

and the end has come

when the battle is over

and i'm finally alone

while celebrations continue

their voices fade behind

I find myself slipping away

and i look back to the front line

when farewells were spoken

and friends had left for home

there is a peace and triumph

because now the clash was won

and in that quiet stillness

that wasn't there at first

there now are memories

that have taken hold so fast

for even in this victory

there's still the hurt and pain

the good we captured here

won't erase the tears that came

but You were in it with me

You will make all right in time

and as I turn away and leave

You gently close the doors behind

You share with me the sad joy

that has known both bliss and pain

and I know that it is true now

that all this - this was not in vain

so when the last have fallen

and one thing's end has come

i'll stand again and follow you

for the fight must still go on

Wednesday, May 26, 2004

Wed, 26 May 2004 22:00:07 GMT

You have but to wait . . . for the story does not end here.

Saturday, April 17, 2004

Sat, 17 Apr 2004 12:25:13 GMT

AND IT WAS POSTED UPON THE DOORWAY:

The following are various notes and notices to various people. They have been handed down from Jordan, who is currently serving as a weakly ascended demi-god with demoted powers. This clause lacks definitive explanation, but fortunately contains no split infinitives. Therefore, find your name or otherwise destinguishing phrase below, and I may have posted a message for you. Or I may have just posted your name. Before I continue with this message bringing service, I would like to point out that random executions will continue until morale improves, and impatient, snide comments will get you. . .yes, yes, nowhere.

Now. . .notes to people.

The first person I should leave a note for is William. William, as is usually the case in such circumstances, is a relation of mine. William, in case you were wondering, is the one who leaves all the aforementioned impatience snide comments, about witches, and green faces, and Pooh, and miserly refusals to give e-props. I feel no compelling reason to leave him a note, so I shall just leave his name. Normally this would be insulting, but William thinks people like him when they make fun of him. I like William, so I should make fun of him to make him happy. And so should you.

The second person, is Jed. I'm currently jealous of Jed, because he faced off with evil dog minions, and the only thing I've ever defeated in single combat is a Mouse. Oh well. Good job, bro, glad to hear you're defending the world in my absence, I'm sure everythign interesting will continue to happen while I'm gone.

Then there's Izzy. Izzy doesn't read this blog (or at least shows no indication of having done so) so this message is not for Izzy. But you can read it, and think about Izzy. Izzy, as you may know, is a very likeable person. Not only do people like him, they often love him. Either that, or they hate him. That's Izzy. We like Izzy. Moving on.

We come now to the great divide.

Guys

=========

Girls

We have now crossed the great devide. Messages continue. (By the way, you must be thinking now what an aweful, tiring travesty this is. I'm sorry. . .sort of. :-p)

Leah is also the author of snide impatient comments. Sort of like William, for those astrologers among us who observe patterns. Leah, however, deserves a message, because, we know that, like William, she means well (Oh, behold the logic). Not at all in the mood for complicated thus saith and repent ye and behold the power sort of messages spoken in an effeminate Jonah-the-asparagus voice, I shall merely say hello.

Oh great Book Boar: Thou alone knoweth what it meaneth to have a blog and blog not, by reason of that Hideous Strength which doth suck the blogishness from us. On the bright side, think of all the e-trees we are saving by conserving virtual paper. . .

What's a Vander Veer, anyway?

Jane is also an author of snide comments, impatient comments, and references to me falling off cliffs, presumably to my death. This is not at all pleasant, except for those of you people who hate me (Oh, the abundance!). Did you ever wonder what would happen if they substitued lettuces for cabbages in Of Cabbages and Kings? It would read Of Lettuces and Kings. . .and that's. . .just. . .bad. Oh shudder. But you have to think. . .what if somebody confused a lettuce for a cabbage, and here you've got this king involved with a lettuce. . .Speaking of which, you still owe me something.

Well, there you are. If you read through this, hoping to find a message for you, and did not, don't worry; it's not because I don't love you. These people are mentioned not because I love them, but because they left me messages. :-p Oh, Izzy didn't leave me anything. . .Why did I leave him a message anyway? I honestly have no clue. . .That said, I pretty much do love all you people. . you're great.

. . . . .

THERE!!!!! THERE!!!!! SEE!??!?! I POSTED!!! ARE YOU HAPPY, ARE YOU HAPPY!?!?!?

. . . . .

We now conclude this program. Thank you for listening. Thank you for believing. Thank you for repeatedly clicking your left mouse button. :::is too overwhelmed with emotion to go on::::

I remain, then, all of yours truly,

J. Santiago

ps: Lastly, to the sprite. Don't be smug. :-p Or?

Tuesday, March 16, 2004

Tue, 16 Mar 2004 17:32:40 GMT

I realize that this miserable excuse for a blog has been getting highly shallow and superficial lately, which is exactly the reason why I never kept journals in the first place; I can't stand writing "Today I went to the dentist" reports or tired anecdotes about life that need to be Strunked and Whited out of existence. . .

In my defense, all I can honestly plead is a very bad case of un-socratic ignorance . . . How can I tell you what I see in the world, when I do not understand what I see? For most of what I see, I cannot see, and what I would say, I do not understand, and in trying to understand it, I reach a point where I know what I am saying is false, not because the idea is untrue (for that it is true, I know), but because I have approached it in all the wrong way.

Picture a dark tower shrouded in the thickest mists. I know it is there. I know that I am to enter the mist and reach those massive battlements. I know that this is the tower I have been born to find, and that in its keep there is hidden that secret which has always existed as a splinter in my mind, never letting my mind be still. It is within my reach, and a thousand miracles named coincidence have lead me here though I could be so far away by a similar chance. I know I am meant to be here. And yet I reach the tower and find four walls of obdurate stone with not a door, not a window, not a loose brick or hidden ring. And in that moment, that tower becomes infinite and unsearchable -- for though its secret is at hand; there is no way within.

That is the world of my thoughts. Those are my obstacles. I know. . .but I do not know what I know. I cannot explain any further.

Would it have been better never to find the tower? Perhaps. . .but sometimes, there is no return.

There remains, then, only one thing left to say:

Bring it on.

Monday, March 15, 2004

Mon, 15 Mar 2004 11:01:05 GMT

I have returned to my homeland! To the land of mountains, and ice cold mornings, and clear skies, and mud, and muddy grass, and little churches (without overheads), and quaint country people, and the vast solitude of woods and vales where the fairies and gremlins live. . .

There is much more I could say. . .but I think I won't.

I shall talk to you all soon in one way or another.