Of False Prophets and Martyrs (A rebel with a cause)

The people who read Vonnegut and Kerouac and Salinger and Bukowski and Palahnuik

Who walk around in their Kurt Cobain clothes 

and James Dean attitude whom Bob Dylan is their God.

You know who I’m talking about, the rebels without a cause

We’ve seen so many of them in our lives, as characters in books and films

the modern muses of tortured starving artists

The prophets and the leaders of a revolution to think for yourself

a revolution that has never come

Many of them were false prophets

just wanting to be cool and aloof and mysterious

So few were true martyrs, unnoticed by most, warning us gently that:

Entertainment and Society still bullies people to death

with marketing and pills and sex

The government still funds the rich and ignores the tired and the poor, 

selling a dream that no longer exists

Church and Religion have forgotten whom they are, 

still playing politics using Jesus as campaign mascot 

(for things He would never support)

Everyone is aware of the problem and complains how none of it is fair

But the thing is that you and I are

We are the problem.

We are society. 

We are the government.

We are the church.

See, that savior we look for who can cause change is always ultimately you

It requires risk, sacrifice, selflessness, change, and thought

Are you willing to no longer be a false prophet, but to be a martyr?

-a stab at poetry by yours truly-

twentythree.

So I turned 23 last Thursday. And can I be honest? I was feeling a whole spectrum of emotions about turning 23.

I’ve been on a HUGE poetry kick lately. (Currently reading T.S. Eliot. Suggestions would be appreciated!) And I thought to myself, why don’t I attempt to write a poem? But it literally would always end up like this:

Oh, on turning twenty-three,

Let me describe the ways on how I loathe thee…

And it would sarcastically continue on about the corrupt system we like to call the American education/college institution and how rigged the economy is becoming. But I can definitely guarantee that those are all other posts for another day.

The real root of all this though was that suddenly 23 sounded so … adult. And I didn’t think I was quite there yet. What does adulthood even mean? And this wasn’t just another twenty-something whining about how our twenties suck. This was about figuring out your life and being honest about who you were created to be. It’s something you deal with all your life.

I think one can approach what being an ‘adult’ means in a few ways. I think most people view it as a checklist: graduate college, getting a job in your field that actually covers the bills, moving out of your parent’s house, maybe finding someone special to settle down with, starting a life.

We know it as having it ‘all together’, a Shangri- La of security. And I am incredibly jealous of my peers who have been able to attain this. I congratulate them that their hard work is starting to finally get them somewhere.

Please believe me when I say that all that I mentioned I truly find it all wonderful. But I knew deep inside that if I attained this all perfectly and debt free, I would never be …satisfied. That this wasn’t for me.

A few years ago, at the church I was attending at the time, whenever I would zone out during service, I would stare at this giant typographic poster of John 10:10, Jesus stating that “I have come so that you can live your life to the fullest.” And ever since then, that verse took root and began to grow in my mind. Jesus came so that I can live my life to the fullest. It was no longer a simple inspiration but it became a challenge to me. Was I willing to accept it?

It is truly terrifying when you have that honest moment with yourself and you finally come to terms that you are called to something different, something against the grain. I know I ran from it for at least 18 months. I started working a few jobs, kept myself busy, and ignoring the gifts God so graciously given to me. It was easier.

This summer, I had come to such a real life fork in the road: to say no to God, (because how could He possibly use me?) or pursue God’s calling in my life and trust Him on everything.

I know if I did not follow God, I would never forgive myself.

(If you ever are trying to figure out God’s will for your life, He will never be enigmatic as you think. God’s will for you is simply this: where your talents, gifts, and/or skills meet the thing that breaks your heart for God aka that annoying cause that always gets you.)

And for me, that is what twenty-three and being an adult means, to finally stop running away and accept the responsibility of that calling God has given me. It’s not going to be easy or fun. It will be bumpy and confusing and a lot of the time it will be incredibly lonely when people just don’t get it.

What is my calling you ask? I’ll let you in on a secret. I’m not quite sure! Not in all the details at least. I do know it definitely has something to do with writing and a little to do with art. I know that I care deeply about the Church and her well-being as well as people taking their world-view a bit more serious. Also I care so deeply that people don’t blindly accept what they are told, to think critically about everything and not be afraid to challenge the status quo. So I have a direction. I know God will take me step by step further out of my comfort zone, to keep pushing me beyond what my small mind could never possible imagine.

In the end, I know taking the road less traveled will be worth it.

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth…

…I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."

Robert Frost