I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
-M.L.K. Jr.
A few nights ago, I had a dream. I was dead, I had died shortly before my 17th birthday. I was walking in between two angels. I was explaining them the idea of dieing young, and how as a human, we experience a sad feeling in disappointing the other humans we love. (Hey, they're angels, not humans.) They had six wings, folded in various ways. The angels were walking, not flying, but our feet made no noise in the soft grass. I wasn't sad, I was happy. The angels comforted me and said that Christ had saved me and that my war against sin had been won. But still, I thought of everyone I knew. Everyone I loved back on Earth, how they would be sad for my early(in their eyes) departure. The angels led me to the far side of the field, and told me to behold the ones I loved. Standing before me, was my sister, flanked by two young men and a woman who I knew to be her children, behind them, their children, and future generations. My parents were also there. In the crowd, there were people of mixed race: some black, mostly white, some asian. all standing there, staring into my eyes and smiling. I looked up, everything dissolved, I closed my eyes and I praised God for his glory. I opened my eyes to see, my alarm clock... and my dark blue sheets cascading softly on my bed.
This dream is running off of the concept that if time is nothing to God, then the elect are already in heaven because heaven is not on a timeline, it just exists.
-Wes
Blessed Dreams.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
First post in forever
Hello blog, man, It's been so long... Youth Camp has come and gone, along with many other happenings that warrant a placement in your HTML halls. Sadly, I think I'll just go back to the Russian party and go up from there, I can't recount the past few months and do them justice you know.
Ahh, anyway. So, the Russians. First, a little back story: My Russian tutors son is a VERY active member of Rotary International, which sponsors business trips and whatnot for people to go to other countries and LEARN SOMETHING! For the past 3 years, my tutor' son (Vitalie)has been taking groups of Russians around Pittsburgh so they can learn from local economics and other areas of interest. For example, last year he had a group who really wanted to learn about the functioning of Non-profit organizations, this year it had to do with generating enough energy for such a large area. Now, formalities aside, these people were so funny and so different, I hope I can name them all, lets see...
Leonid: a man of unknown profession who hails from Lenin's home town, and he was the picture of the generalized socialist Russian. Funny guy though, he gave me tons of pins, most of which had lenin's bust somewhere on it. There were alot of jokes made that he was a spy and former member of the KGB, although it was all done in good humor. Couldn't speak English, but I talked with him alot anyway(tried to, in Russian that is)
Nikolai: I never got to talk much with him, but he always had some kind of camera or video recorder in his hand. didn't speak English.
Andrew: same as Nikolai, only minus the video camera.
I believe there was another Nikolai, who is a composer, who also didn't speak English, but played the piano beautifully.
Gresha: the translator of the group, aka the only one that could speak english. Gresha as an amazing soon-to-be professor of Russian-American relations at a local university. It was so wonderful to talk with him, he wanted to know so much, and I wanted to know so much too, so we basically exchanged knowledge for what seemed like hours.
There were two meetings, a welcome meeting and a farewell meeting. I'll see if I can accurately separate these two meetings into two narratives.
Well, we arrived just in time to join in the meal, although we were unfortunatly late. I indulged in Pickled herring with onion in vegitable oil, all of which was raw, but good, along with caviar and butter on wheat bread. Pork was the only "Normal" thing served, but there was also this great pockets of eggroll of some sort, along with some kind of cabbage dish and a beet and horseradish dish that I didn't sample. While I was eating, I met everyone, including a young lady named Jenna who is 20, soon to be 21. I'm still not sure exactly how she and her family are involved in all this, but it all worked out for the better. For the remainder of the night I mingled and had leangthy conversations with Gresha and Jenna about the policial structure of America.
Food and talk gave way to entertainment, Jenna sang, I played piano a bit, but the real highlight came when Nikolai played a beutiful russian waltz. I began to dance with an invisible partner, and Jenna asked me "Do you dance?" and so, I took off my boots and got a quick lesson in waltzing and voila! Jenna and I were dancing in the middle of the living room. Jenna, who is/was a ballroom dancer gave me the basic steps of the waltz. Kinda funny how life can lead so such things as dancing with a girl I had only met that night.
Ok, well, that's enough for now, check back soon to read more on the russians.
Simple(ton) thought of the day: "Orange Bandanas only look good on blond haired girls."
Someone interesting I met today: Barbra Haggardy
-Wes
Ahh, anyway. So, the Russians. First, a little back story: My Russian tutors son is a VERY active member of Rotary International, which sponsors business trips and whatnot for people to go to other countries and LEARN SOMETHING! For the past 3 years, my tutor' son (Vitalie)has been taking groups of Russians around Pittsburgh so they can learn from local economics and other areas of interest. For example, last year he had a group who really wanted to learn about the functioning of Non-profit organizations, this year it had to do with generating enough energy for such a large area. Now, formalities aside, these people were so funny and so different, I hope I can name them all, lets see...
Leonid: a man of unknown profession who hails from Lenin's home town, and he was the picture of the generalized socialist Russian. Funny guy though, he gave me tons of pins, most of which had lenin's bust somewhere on it. There were alot of jokes made that he was a spy and former member of the KGB, although it was all done in good humor. Couldn't speak English, but I talked with him alot anyway(tried to, in Russian that is)
Nikolai: I never got to talk much with him, but he always had some kind of camera or video recorder in his hand. didn't speak English.
Andrew: same as Nikolai, only minus the video camera.
I believe there was another Nikolai, who is a composer, who also didn't speak English, but played the piano beautifully.
Gresha: the translator of the group, aka the only one that could speak english. Gresha as an amazing soon-to-be professor of Russian-American relations at a local university. It was so wonderful to talk with him, he wanted to know so much, and I wanted to know so much too, so we basically exchanged knowledge for what seemed like hours.
There were two meetings, a welcome meeting and a farewell meeting. I'll see if I can accurately separate these two meetings into two narratives.
Well, we arrived just in time to join in the meal, although we were unfortunatly late. I indulged in Pickled herring with onion in vegitable oil, all of which was raw, but good, along with caviar and butter on wheat bread. Pork was the only "Normal" thing served, but there was also this great pockets of eggroll of some sort, along with some kind of cabbage dish and a beet and horseradish dish that I didn't sample. While I was eating, I met everyone, including a young lady named Jenna who is 20, soon to be 21. I'm still not sure exactly how she and her family are involved in all this, but it all worked out for the better. For the remainder of the night I mingled and had leangthy conversations with Gresha and Jenna about the policial structure of America.
Food and talk gave way to entertainment, Jenna sang, I played piano a bit, but the real highlight came when Nikolai played a beutiful russian waltz. I began to dance with an invisible partner, and Jenna asked me "Do you dance?" and so, I took off my boots and got a quick lesson in waltzing and voila! Jenna and I were dancing in the middle of the living room. Jenna, who is/was a ballroom dancer gave me the basic steps of the waltz. Kinda funny how life can lead so such things as dancing with a girl I had only met that night.
Ok, well, that's enough for now, check back soon to read more on the russians.
Simple(ton) thought of the day: "Orange Bandanas only look good on blond haired girls."
Someone interesting I met today: Barbra Haggardy
-Wes
Monday, May 08, 2006
A dream
Black, all Black, but suddenly a rush of sound and feeling, suddenly, like a silk blanket being ripped out from under me, I feel a harsh grit. My wet body feels all the aches and pains of extreme exertion. Where am I? It would seem to be a beach. I stagger up, trying to recall what happened. Did I fall? It sure feels like it, but I’m not on the coast, I’m on an island. I can’t see too well, it’s like looking through a haze. Before me lies a mass of vegetation, the air lightly brushes through the branches of the palm trees as I notice that the sun sinking on the horizon, it must be about 6 o’clock. The world seems as though it’s winding down, shadows are long and there’s a twinge of orange in the light. Quickly I notice my shoes are almost totally destroyed. I toss them into the expanse of turquoise without a second thought… My clothes begin to dry as I walk eastward with no particular will or reason: Like walking while asleep. I robotically walk along trying to make sense of my exhaustion and despair, for I can’t seem to find why I’m here. The sun creeps lower in the sky as I continue my mindless trek, I’ve rounded the island and I’m walking back west again. There’s a figure on the beach lying prone an motionless as I could imagine I was not but a few hours ago. Slowly, almost with an extreme apathy I approach the form. I find I’m at a loss to call out. But, like a cat, I stoop down and shyly inspect the figure lying face down in the sand. None of it’s features seem to be discernible, neither due to decay, nor to mutilation, simply a deficit, an inability to discern. I shyly grasp the pale clammy arm, and feel for a pulse. Nothing… slowly, and without expression, I gently pick up the ragged frame that had lain before me. The sun is halfway down. I cling to the body in my arms, as if my simple perseverance in walking on would make it come back to life. Slowly, and cautiously, I hope. Have you ever experienced a raw feeling or attribute of the mind, without a predicate, without an object or target? If you haven’t I can’t express the raw unfailing hope I felt. Still, without emotion, I trudge on in the wet, cold sand. The sun is disappearing. I look down and recognise the face on the body I carry. My head leans back and my eyes close. Then I awoke.
Wishing you pleasent dreams
-Wes
Wishing you pleasent dreams
-Wes
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
My bottom ten
Inspired by Strongbad WARNING, EXTREMELY PESSIMISTIC
10. trying to clean milk off of glass countertops... it just leaves a white residue.
9. The Jibblies
8. Pops(sodas) that have super long meaningless names or flavors. TRY NEW DIET "ONE" BLACK CHERRY VANILLA LEMON LIME DR. PEPPER! if it takes more than 3 seconds just to say the name, its gone too far.
7. Mountain Dew has minimal effects on me... which isn't fun at all.
6. being sick for extended periods of time (like right now)
5. Canned green beans....*jibblies*
4. that intersection on 51 near castle shannon off library road that's like a 9 way.
3. People who think they're working hard at something and think they're good enough when in the meantime they're not trying hard, they're hardly trying.
2. That awful feeling of missing the last step on a stairwell in the dark. like your stomach drops out from under you.
1. Makeup, in any shape or form that's not deodorant or a hair product such as gel or hairspray. Especially when applied to the face. eye shadow...*jibblies*
There you have it, Wes Sames' bottom 10, subject to change.
mostly meant to be hurmorous, except number 3... that's one that really gets me
-Wes
10. trying to clean milk off of glass countertops... it just leaves a white residue.
9. The Jibblies
8. Pops(sodas) that have super long meaningless names or flavors. TRY NEW DIET "ONE" BLACK CHERRY VANILLA LEMON LIME DR. PEPPER! if it takes more than 3 seconds just to say the name, its gone too far.
7. Mountain Dew has minimal effects on me... which isn't fun at all.
6. being sick for extended periods of time (like right now)
5. Canned green beans....*jibblies*
4. that intersection on 51 near castle shannon off library road that's like a 9 way.
3. People who think they're working hard at something and think they're good enough when in the meantime they're not trying hard, they're hardly trying.
2. That awful feeling of missing the last step on a stairwell in the dark. like your stomach drops out from under you.
1. Makeup, in any shape or form that's not deodorant or a hair product such as gel or hairspray. Especially when applied to the face. eye shadow...*jibblies*
There you have it, Wes Sames' bottom 10, subject to change.
mostly meant to be hurmorous, except number 3... that's one that really gets me
-Wes
Monday, March 06, 2006
Un-minorness! Woohoo!
Woohoo! Dan's 18! Party at his house! literally.
Yep, Saturday was just that. I packed up my stuff and headed over to "the Behrens farm" decked in John Deere, flannel, and jeans. Country music was the order of the day through Dan's new "iPod Hi_Fi", a mini stereo that he got from his uncle. We feated on a magificant ham as well as chicken and Mac n' cheese, along with cheerful conversation about Dan and everyone's future. After dinner, Mr. Behrens decided that we should all have some time to share some stuff about Dan, sentiments bounced around the room akin to stuff you would most likely hear when someone is appresheated at a funeral, but not glummly, but happily. It's a sentiment that I've always had that it's a shame that no one is ever able to attend their own funeral, because most people just don't know how much they mean to the others in their life. I think that this practice the Behren's have introduced to me will carry over into my own parenting. As the night continued, the country gave way to other forms of music, talking gave way to games, skits, and a jello slurping contest. Slowly but steadily The party felt very much like a theme party, which it was, but for a while, it almost seemed natural for everyone to be wearing old timey sort of weird stuff. Then Katie walked in sporting a red hoodie (before changing into flannel) and brought home how odd the scene must have looked. :-P
Later on, there was much guitar playing, talking, and the like. Finally, we all hit the hay at like 1 AM.
Some party, sorry for the short post, more to come
-Wes
Yep, Saturday was just that. I packed up my stuff and headed over to "the Behrens farm" decked in John Deere, flannel, and jeans. Country music was the order of the day through Dan's new "iPod Hi_Fi", a mini stereo that he got from his uncle. We feated on a magificant ham as well as chicken and Mac n' cheese, along with cheerful conversation about Dan and everyone's future. After dinner, Mr. Behrens decided that we should all have some time to share some stuff about Dan, sentiments bounced around the room akin to stuff you would most likely hear when someone is appresheated at a funeral, but not glummly, but happily. It's a sentiment that I've always had that it's a shame that no one is ever able to attend their own funeral, because most people just don't know how much they mean to the others in their life. I think that this practice the Behren's have introduced to me will carry over into my own parenting. As the night continued, the country gave way to other forms of music, talking gave way to games, skits, and a jello slurping contest. Slowly but steadily The party felt very much like a theme party, which it was, but for a while, it almost seemed natural for everyone to be wearing old timey sort of weird stuff. Then Katie walked in sporting a red hoodie (before changing into flannel) and brought home how odd the scene must have looked. :-P
Later on, there was much guitar playing, talking, and the like. Finally, we all hit the hay at like 1 AM.
Some party, sorry for the short post, more to come
-Wes
Sunday, January 01, 2006
A new rockin' year.
Well, its here, a year that some have awaited restlessly, and a year that others have dreamed into, still others have prayed that it may never come, and the last have prayed that it were to come sooner. This tangle of emotion is all brought to fruition in the one defining moment of 1/1/06 00:00.01 military time. some stand in times square staring up to the sky in hopes of a bright new year, some sit down in their houses with empty bottles by their side, some weep in an empty house, and yet, there are those who stand in Times Square passionately embracing their loved one. somehow, I looked through the screen of our TV at the crowd, and I saw none of these things, I didn't see the divas, the idiots, crazy people, or even the normal people. I saw the grace of God. All that has been given me in the past year. It's all become unbearably real. I was slightly dreaping midnight, knowing that at 12:00.01 I'd be seeing couples all across Times Square osculating. But, as it happened, I wasn't troubled at all. Somehow my finite mind for once was able to look past the here and now and see God's future. Instead of cursing God for my position now, I thank him endlessly for the position he's going to put me in in the future. Without God, we are dust incarnate, we are smoke in a gail, and our amorous affection is just simple squabble without knowing the pure sacred love (PlatonEcheskye) from God. To humanity, God's silence is like death, but on New Years 2006, God roared. God roared like Aslan rising from the stone table. A cry calling us to his side and for us to trust in him; at least for me.
I love this awful beautiful life.
-Wes
I love this awful beautiful life.
-Wes
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