on a more abstract note...

several months ago i posted the lyrics to Kansas' "Carry on my Wayward Son." i went back i read it a couple weeks ago, last week and tonight. i've been dealing with some faith issues for some time now. before school was out i talked with marty for several hours about them and found very few answers, explainations, reasons, or even rhyme to why i feel the way i do about my faith. i did realize how much the whole "cuvo ordeal" contributed to where i was then and am now, but that was still very detached and abstract. that isn't to say that my thoughts on the subject and reasonings for my feelings now are all that concrete, but they might be thickening, or perhaps to continue the concrete metaphor, curing. as i was saying i went back and read some of those lyrics i mentioned above. the past week or two i've really been reliving the thoughts and emotions of beach project. when i read those lyrics tonight, in conjunction with a convo w/ the BMD, i'm beginning to see one of my stubling blocks more clearly. the verse goes like this:
Once I rose above the noise and confusion
"Just to get a glimpse beyond the illusion
I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high
Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could thnk I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I'm dreamin', I can hear them say..."
that's the first verse for anyone not familure with the song. it's not the only one i'm identifying with, but it serves for the set for this little talk. let'g get in our way-back machines and go to the summer after my sophmore year at good old woco. i was living in myrtle beach, working at build-a-bear, living in a motel room with 5 other college guys at a motel with about 80 college students. we were all there for summer beach project, an intense religious experiance for sure, intended to grow faith and confidence in faith's expression. i saw into myslef there in a way that i never had before, or sense. i felt like i understood something, not just knowing, but really understanding. it was amazing. i truely got a glimpse beyond the life i had been living, but i took that glimpse for the entire landscape. what i didnt' see was where i fit into all of this, but i figured that i wasn't supposed to see that. in reallity, that might be true. i might not be supposed to know. anyway, i saw waht i thought was my path from sbp in to my world. i saw me ministering to 2 guys and evangelizing furhter with cuvo, this time without the scholarly dressings and rightious slogans. i was a changed man. i had learned that i was not a timid spirit, but a spirit of power, love and dicipline (2 Tim 1:7). i reached out in those directions. found little to no support from friends at home or school. and both endevors collapsed. i know that i put myself in the center of some of this, but with cuvo it was different. i was on a spiritual battlefield, standing with the saints against the most horrible foe, one that wants to look like it belongs to our army, mormonism. this was a good fight. this was a hard fight. this was the right fight. my attempts to reachout fell flat. i used email because it was the only way to catch cuvo. i offered to come and have a real discussion with her in valdosta, but she avoided that option. i pleaded, sent impassioned testimonies about my life and what i had learned and simple differentiations between christendom and mormonism, completely avoiding the issues that constitute the catholic/protestant split. it was as i had encountered before. i was wrestling with jello, but not only jello, ignorant, deaf jello. i became frustraited. like Icirus, and the lyrics above, i had flown too high. i had failed in my rightious battle. i've been struggling with this for a while now. i've been ignoring the question that i've really wanted to ask. i've been stuck on it. i'm rather embarased to think that i even thought such a thing. i thought, "how could God let this happen? how could He let me Fail at something so good and pure?" well, not looking back i see the answer to that question and a few others. pride. how many times did i use "I" in this little venture? way too many. yes, i was doing this out of love for a sister in Christ. yes, i was relying on a spiritual power i had never tapped into before, but i was doing it so i could do something. it was my battle. i chose the terms. i chose the details. now, i do feel that there was a call to arms over this issue, but i, a mere private, took command and tried to call the shots. pride. i fell. no two ways about it. now this is starting to be more clear to me, though still about as clear as mud. all this fire has been rekindled as of late. i dont' really want to journal much more about it right now, but i feel a need to sharpen my blade and be ready to use it in a way the world has never seen me use it before.