Thoughts of a Nonsomniac

It’s entirely foolish to blog twice in a short period of time in the midst of enjoying the lack of exams, but my sanity seems to have recovered at least to some extent after not sleeping last night, sleeping in this morning, drinking an abundance of iced tea, and walking through insane gusts of wind tonight. My nonsomnia has been rather disappointing over the last couple of weeks, and as a result I’ve not been my normal cheerful, odd-thinking self. I dislike not being able to think of bizarre things out of nowhere, or lacking enthusiasm to do wholly brainless things. While it could be the excess of textbook reading I’ve been doing in the past weeks, I’m blaming the loss of my juvenility on unwarranted amounts of sleep. So friends, after regaining my happiness last night, I promise that in a few days I’ll have salvaged my ability to be spontaneous, absurd, and imaginative again. I can feel the summer’s conviviality already. The last while has been quite the whirlwind, with Easter, family gatherings, exams, work, and various other errands that had to be done. While Easter was still a contemplative time in between the family madness, I do wish that somehow the moon’s phases allowed Easter to be situated a bit further from exams, because I got about two chapters read over the entire four days of my extended family’s Easter break and even missed out on making my usual three abstract pysanky with my family.

I really don’t have the audacity to subject you to a recounting of all the fun that was had with my cousins over Easter break, partially because there was way too much of it, and partially because I really do suspect its far more fun for me to reminisce than it is to read those reminiscences. I’m inclined to going on and on about my family, so I’ll just say that my cousins are the most spectacular ones of all! The bulk of the hilarity over the four days with my cousins came from my cousin Luke, who is tied for status as the funniest guy I know, and has near perfect taste in music, clothes, movies, and TV (despite his lack of fervor for the OC). He’s also extraordinarily friendly, compassionate, and makes me despair that I’ll never play the guitar well. I’ll force myself to hold off on any further description at this point, because it would undoubtedly go on for a while. I’ll blog about Bri when she gets her travel blog for Bri Australia Trip 2006 up and running, discuss Hannah when she has commencements next month, and write about Maddie when I see her new vehicle (somehow, Maddie beat me, Bri, and Hannah in the whole driver’s license process, which is extremely embarrassing). A brief recitation of cousin shenanigans in the past while would have to include hysterical laughter at Pink Panther DVDs, incidental philosophizing about purses (Luke’s quote about the “durable boxes” was a simply priceless Lukism), mockery of Bri’s fondness for Laguna Beach (gross!), Greek egg-cracking games, joyful present opening (five birthdays in April make for a lovely extended period of present opening and modeling of said gifts), scrapbooking, eating way too much delectable food, discussion with Hannah of psychology’s excellence, absurd banter about hockey and skiing, exclamation over the prettiness of Luke and Tim’s polos, and some utterly agreeable nostalgia.

Perhaps the most striking moment of my Easter took place on Good Friday as I worked at the café in the afternoon, and served a tattooed customer who was on the larger side and was quite somber, making no eye contact whatsoever. After handing him his change, it became apparent that he had begun to weep, and when I asked him if he was alright and if there was anything I could do, he replied that he’d just returned from Afghanistan where he’d been in one of the several incidents in the past month in which Canadian soldiers had come under attack. His injuries were relatively mild, but he was clearly suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder as the reality of war set in, and his evident grief over the difficulty of war and human conflict was quite heartrending. With the fact of the day being Good Friday weighing heavily on my mind, I thought about the emotional and physical pain that Jesus experienced on that day. In one fell swoop, the people who He had come to save nailed Him to a cross to let Him die, and yet He prayed to God to forgive us. Jesus knows the pain of the soldier I talked to so well, and He died so that He could offer us something better than what we experience in this life. This is not to say that life is entirely hopeless and cheerless; God’s creation is truly beautiful, and we can worship Him through enjoyment of all that He made. But we still live in a fallen world, and our hope lies in the fact that something far better awaits us if we choose to accept it. I think that the contrast between the staidness of Good Friday and the triumph of Easter Sunday parallels the juxtaposition of our experience in this life and the unimaginable joy that we’ll experience in heaven. In my high school Christian group, we would frequently have discussions in leadership meetings about how we needed to show non-Christians the good life that we could offer them, but this often seemed to imply that as Christians we lived more contented lives than others. Growing up in a small church where many members of the congregation struggled with depression, addiction, domestic strife, and loneliness, I feel quite strongly that salvation doesn’t make one’s situation any happier. Rather, salvation brings one hope, and an underlying joy in the knowledge of God’s love for us and His grace.

Presenting Christianity as an easy way out to non-believers is dangerous, I think, because it’s misleading and offers people the wrong motivations for accepting Christ as their Saviour. Jesus is my Saviour, but He’s also my Lord. I’m so blessed to have grown up in a Christian home where I knew the peace of Christ, but there were of course times when my non-Christian friends had seemingly loads of fun without me as they went to parties, played pranks, or gossiped. It was exasperating at times to be the only Christian in class, and thus be the only one who was present to argue with the teacher about Christian theology, or having friends tease me about the announcements I put in the school bulletin for our Christian club. 2 Timothy 3:12 reminds us that “Indeed, all who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will be persecuted.” I realize that North American Christians hardly face the struggles that those on other continents do, especially after hearing stories from our family’s friends who have been missionaries in Asia and Africa, but at the same time I think it’s important to not expect the Christian life to be peachy keen, or to promise that to non-Christians. In one of Crystal and my last CFC Bible studies, we were discussing the horror of war, tragedy of events like September 11, and general hardship of life. One of the new Christians in the group asked why life was so sad at times. I think Crystal and I (at least I think you interjected on this one Crystal, though it might have been Corrina) referred to the obvious answer of Genesis 3 and the fact that life isn’t going to be perfect until we’re in heaven. Someone else in the group answered that since she’d become a Christian, life had become so much easier. I’m delighted that salvation brought peace and joy into this girl’s life, but to suggest that the hardship of life is significantly diminished for Christian is unwise, especially for a new believer who might come to expect at every twist and turn of life, and wonder what has gone wrong when the going gets tough.

Since this entry is becoming increasingly dismal as I continue to type, I should perhaps take the dark course that the blog is currently headed on as a sign to get some sleep, and post this in the morning. I’ll blame the sad nature of this blog on the Sufjan songs I’m currently listening to about serial killers and cancer, and hope you understand that I am exceptionally happy; it’s just that life isn’t always sunny and wonderful, even with the comfort and joy of salvation, and at times I feel that Christians like to gloss over that fact. Tomorrow the Sandra Sperounes review of the concert last night is going to appear in the Journal, so I may have to comment on her commentary, since Jess and I found her blog on the Death Cab and Franz Ferdinand sets entirely dissatisfying. She seemed to be even more enamoured with the hockey game than the gorgeousness of Death Cab’s songs, or the high-energy performance by Franz. While I love playoff hockey, and listen or watch Oilers games in the postseason whenever possible, I find it exceedingly odd that a music journalist would care more about the score than enjoying what will undoubtedly go down as one of Edmonton’s best concerts this year. She even blogged that the audience booed as Ben sang the line “from Bangkok to Calgary,” which was mostly fabricated, as only a small group off to the side gave a coordinated jeer. Alas, Sandra Sperounes is the only real music reviewer in this city besides those who write for the free Vue, See, and Gateway, so her opinion is the only one that counts for very much. It’s quite likely that my lukewarm liking for music reportage in the Journal is the result of my bias towards the Globe and Mail, thus, I’ll try to respect her writings about two of my favourite bands, and not rant about it in the blog. I hope your all enjoying the beautiful weather, and not too many of you are distressed by allergies at this time of year. I think I sneezed eleven times tonight while outside, but with some allergy meds, the sneezing is generally kept to a minimum. Cheer hard for the Oilers tomorrow, and keep your fingers and toes crossed, and legs as well if need be!