Had a wonderful birthday :)

Very blessed for brothers and friends such as these... It's a bit late, but this was my birthday. Part 2 comes tonight :)

You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of us.

I've been putting off blogging for quite a while now.

It's not that there isn't any good stuff going on in my life - in fact, quite the opposite. I am in the season of the biggest joy and most substantial freedom that I have ever experienced, and this wonderful experience and love of life continues to grow deeper and stronger week-by-week, and I am so thankful that the Lord has willed my life in this direction and provided me opportunity to embrace this good and new life.

It's more the fact that what I write on here, while written for friends, can be read by anyone. Do I have a problem with the world knowing that God has given me an incredible, unprecedented (and certainly not temporal) joy? Not at all! I want to shout it from the roof tops. Jesus is alive! I am free! I'm abiding in love! It's incredible.

The reason that I've been reluctant to post is twofold. One is that typically when someone maintains a blog, it is expected that they chronicle the "big events" in their life, and the changing of "seasons"... This season began four or five months ago, and perhaps I was a bit scared that it was too good to be true. And as time went, joy and freedom increased, and the task of justifying this shift to whoever reads my blog became more and more daunting.

The second reason is that I did not come into this joy from a neutral standpoint. I was rescued and brought here from the most difficult period of my life, and to testify to his goodness I was unsure how much I would be required to post of that rough time. That's where the "anyone can read this" nature of blogs began to stifle me. I don't want to even think of how rough a season of life I was in, let alone share it with the masses.

So I think perhaps it is suffice to say that I was terribly lost, God seemed far, and I really had to endure by faith and not by sight, and in his grace and in his timing he rescued me... "he rescued me, because he delighted in me." (Psalm 18:19)

HE IS SO GOOD. And I am so thankful.

You make all things work together for my good.

I am currently sitting in a mobile home in the small town of Fessenden, North Dakota. My good friend Ben is sleeping, but I'm not tired, and I haven't written on here in quite some time. But this trip has been full of my Father's goodness.

First - the reason I'm in North Dakota. Me and Ben were on our road trip back to school, with the plan of arriving in Caronport on Tuesday. We were driving on the highway and I noticed Ben looking down at his feet and at the dashboard. He looked at me - "Matthew, something's wrong." The car's accelerator was stuck, and rising. We were already going about 100 kilometres per hour. Ben thought of simply removing the key, but thankfully he didn't - we later found out that doing so would have locked the steering in place, sending us speeding off the highway. Trying not to panic, we prayed, recalling storied of the Lord intervening in automobile mishaps, and then called a friend's parents who (a) had encountered the problem before, but (b) didn't pick up. Then, the front of the car started spraying out fluid and the brakes still weren't stopping us so we called 911. And they figured out how to make it stop. We stopped just outside a town, thankfully before we ran into any traffic lights. We got picked up by the sheriff, and the first problem, the reason behind the accelerator being stuck, was fixed easily enough.

Then we started up the car to head to the shop to get more fluid. And now the brakes - which had been struggling against the rising accelerator - weren't working at all. But that problem got fixed really easily as well.

But then it turned out the radiator was cracked. So... we've been stuck in the tiny town (ironically, bigger than Caronport) of Fessenden, waiting for the car parts to arrive and be installed, since yesterday, and should be out of here tomorrow. God's been showing his providence throughout: We went to the Motel to see about getting a room for a couple days to find out they were entirely booked up, as was the Motel in the next town over. So the guy working at the desk offers his motor home to us, free of charge, and they snuck in this morning to put ice cream treats in the fridge for us. So this has been some really sweet time of talking and preparing for Caronport, watching Parks and Recreation on Netflix, doing some work on my DL courses, and reflecting on a Summer that has, for me, been so full of healing.

So all this is to say that he is making himself known in situations that previously would have just devastated me, and that even though I haven't blogged, he has over the past two and a half months been setting me free of burdens and struggles that I had long given up on being delivered from this side of eternity. He is faithful, even when we are faithless.

A future and a hope (now more than ever).

Reading Jeremiah, I have reached chapter 29, home of one of the most-quoted verses of all time, Jeremiah 29:11 ("For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future." [NIV]). I've long looked at that verse as affirmation that my Father promises to fulfill good and exciting plans for me. In this season of life, when everything seems to be falling through and I am driven farther and farther away from where I dream of being, I can easily wonder how that verse is relevant. Reading it in the context of the rest of the chapter surrounding it, I see that it is actually incredibly relevant - more relevant and applicable to me now, actually, than before: He promises this hope, this future, to his people who, in his wisdom and sovereignty, has driven into exile. This promise is FOR people who might wonder, as I've wondered, where their God is! I've wondered in these difficult times if Jeremiah 29:11 actually spoke to me in the position I'm in, and now, my thinking is reversed: was he ever speaking that to me more than he is now?

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you, declares the Lord, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, declares the Lord, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile."

... through the dark punk rock clubs of one thousand american towns.

A visual aide, to show how much of North America I've traversed - most of this is in the past two years. Actually, I have been in every province from the west coast of BC to the east coast of New Brunswick in 2011 - all but Alberta in the past two months...

Not as fun as it sounds, but hey, it's an experience.

Too bad I spent so much of my time floating around on this continent, when I lose my cheap flights come September.

Where the healing begins.

On 1 AM Wednesday morning, I touched down at YVR for the second time in a month - this time, to stay. I don't know that I've ever had a season so rough as the one I'm in now, and there came a point in this dark, damaging time that I knew I needed to release my grip on all my hopes, plans and dreams for the summer and come "home" - an ambiguous, confusing term, which here refers to British Columbia. My focusing in coming back is to recover, to heal, from what has been the most exhausting, confusing, challenging, frustrating, heartbreaking time of my life. Doors have opened here in BC that were previously closed, and just in time. I am filled with hope and a sense that this is the will of the Lord for me this summer, and while there is a disappointment in letting go of plans and dreams I'd long cherished, there is also such a peace and joy that comes with the confidence that I am walking in the will of the Father (not that I was avoiding his will before - I was earnestly seeking it out, but simply could not see it clearly).

Coming home on Wednesday meant something sweet - I could go downtown for game 7! I've only this past year really started to watch/play/appreciate hockey (in each case, quite casually), but I thought it would be a really cool experience to celebrate what would hopefully be the first Stanley Cup win for the Vancouver Canucks. I really love Vancouver (though, as you can read here, I have wondered at that love and the nature of this city, ever since me and James' formative reading break adventure in November of 2009) and to celebrate with the rest of the province on my first day back seemed an exciting way to kick-off my summer of restoration.

I was horrified and confused, then, at what transpired instead. From where I was watching the game downtown erupted a chaos unlike anything I'd seen - and thankfully, some of which I only saw through media, and not with my own eyes. The Vancouver riots were disgusting, as anyone who has watched CTV or Global in the past few days is well aware of. What started with fires and fist-fights ended up a bloody mess of millions of dollars in destroyed property, four stabbings and one man thrown off the viaduct. People who tried to do good, police and civilians alike, were mobbed and beaten cruelly for their efforts. The VPD fought back with tear gas and rubber bullets. Transit systems were locked down for the most part, and the madness spilled onto the SkyTrain. Being in this chaos, unsure of how to safely get home, was a draining and unforeseen experience that I wish I could un-live.

But the worst part of this was the way that the so-called "small group of criminals" were surrounded by hundreds thousands of cheering supporters. The way that the moral fortitude of those around me caved, and lawlessness and destruction were embraced; it was entertaining, fascinating, even worthy, apparently, of praise and adoration. I couldn't sleep when I got back to Braden's house - the sounds and sights of it all played through my mind at a subconscious level, and the next day, seeing footage on the news of the morally upright being brutally beaten for taking a stand, I felt overwhelmed and nauseated.

Experiencing a trauma was not what I had hoped for on my first day back in BC, but already the Lord is using it to make his goodness known. Following the riots, a time when I was surrounded by so many people embracing godlessness, it was relieving to arrive home and see that the majority of Vancouverites, and people all over, were disgusted with the events as well. Onlookers back home did not find it to be excellent or praiseworthy. The amount of love and support that have poured out, in the amount of people helping clean up downtown, was incredibly heartening to see. The Canucks posted a video on their official site showcasing the clean-up efforts and heralding the beginning of a healing process.

I went downtown today with a friend who had been caught in the riot as well. We looked at boarded-up windows filled with words defying the evil that had overrun the streets a few nights prior; words of anger, yes, but more than that, of hope and love and healing. There was a police car absolutely covered in sticky-notes and letters of gratitude written by civilians. Where hate had made its mark, love spoke up louder. To see something so damaging and seemingly irreversible be redeemed gives me great hope for redemption in my heart this summer, in areas I had thought lost.

It seems to me that for both me and the city I've come home to, this is where the healing begins.

How do you recover from a night like tonight? What do you do with yourself?

I saw the streets overrun with evil. Fires, torn-up storefronts and gashed up faces, and people filming it all, delighting in it all.

The mayor has said this was a small group of criminally-intent individuals. It wasn't. It was hundreds, if not thousands, of people participating and/or spurring on participation in ripping the city to shreds.

Welcome home, Matthew.

Why I loved "X-Men: First Class".

Back in the days when Jamie Tworkowski was writing for the TWLOHA blog more often, he would occasionally write entries with titles such as "Why I loved 'Inception'", looking into where the heart of the film was, the reason he (and anybody else, for that matter) cared about it beyond the action and special effects. I always thought that was sweet and part of me wonders if what I'm about to write is very much unlike something he'd post.

Last night, me and two friends went and saw X-Men: First Class. I'm really broke right now, but I had a free movie and I had to see this one. When X-Men first came out, I was in grade four. I saw it in theatres and when it came out on VHS (wow, that's minty) I watched it over and over again the first week we had it. Now I'm a college student, and with the focus of this film being on that post-high school time in life, there was really no question as to whether or not I'd be seeing this one opening night.

Me and Travis were two of the first people into the theatre, and saved a seat for Brendan. The seats around us filled at a rapid pace and soon the place was packed. The movie actually didn't take that long to start; there weren't that many "coming attraction" previews and soon enough the feature presentation had begun.

I'll try not to spoil this too much for anyone who hasn't seen it yet. The opening scene of this film matches the opening of the very first one: a young Magneto Erik is torn apart from his mother in the herding of Jews during the Holocaust, and when he is being dragged away, his powers manifest in his desperation and rage. Where the original X-Men left off, we see more of Erik's life. The entire topic of World War II, particularly the Holocaust, hits my heart pretty hard, so it was taxing to see what this kid (fictitious or not, based in the reality of the internment camps) had to go through.

And those events defined his life. What had been taken from him, what had been done to him, they shaped him into an angry, hateful, and - underneath it all - fearful individual. As anyone familiar with the franchise knows, Erik becomes Magneto, a mutant leader who becomes, ironically, a Hitler-like figure in the majority of the comics and films. But in this film, set mostly in the 60's, he was just Erik. And cold, broken Erik is befriended by the warm-hearted and compassionate Charles Xavier, a character who can read minds.

One of my favourite plot points in this film is seen a few times in dialogue between Erik and Charles. Charles reveals to Erik that he has read his mind, seen his thoughts and viewed his memories, and Erik's response is one that I think a lot of people would have - anger. Though I think behind that anger, like I said, lies fear. He knows? He saw what happened? He's knows what I've done? What's been done to me?! I think we can all probably relate to this. Being known, really known, is scary. It means transparency. Transparency means vulnerability, and vulnerability is a terrifying thing, because it sees us - willingly or not - facing the risk of some incredibly deep hurt. What Charles says to Erik, however, is beautiful. He says he feels the pain and hurt and anger alongside Erik. He has taken it upon himself. Maybe he can't stop the suffering himself, but out of compassion andm I'd have to believe, love, chooses bears the burden voluntarily so that his friend, who has no choice in the matter, doesn't have to do so alone.

Erik is a character who spends almost the entirety of the franchise in some sort of prison. When he is young, he is imprisoned by the Nazis. For almost the entirety of rest of his life, he is imprisoned in loneliness, brokenness, pain, sorrow, anger and hatred. I hear they're doing a sequel to First Class, but I don't think we will ever again see Erik as a free man - our only glimpse of that was in this film, in the moments where he realized that Charles had seen the ugliness inside of him - the blood on his hands, and his blood on others' - and not only withheld judgement but extended compassion and an offer to suffer alongside. He wept with him. There was freedom in that, something so beautiful and brotherly in that. And they used that word, too - "brothers."

I really did love all the special-effects, the action sequences and fight scenes - they were intense. Hugh Jackman's Wolverine cameo was hilarious. And the film was as much an ensemble piece as any, with a wide range of characters beyond Erik and Charles. But I think that any movie built up on effects, humour, sex appeal, or anything else you can put in a trailer to convince people to shell out ten bucks to see a film falls flat if it doesn't have a heart to the story. There needs to be something that resonates on a deeper level with the audience. For me, I was able to relate to a couple of twenty-something mutants caught up in politics and espionage, because I was enthusiastic and understanding of the significance of their brotherhood, because I caught glimpses of something I've been blessed with as a nineteen-year-old, nomadic Bible college student - legitimate brotherhood and love that endures all things and hopes always.

I've been dying to say this to you and I don't know what else to do.

1. The song I wish you'd sing to me.

2. It's hard to describe the agony of sitting and waiting for a message that you know can't possibly come for at least another six or seven hours.

3. Tim said today that he's calling and quitting his job. Firstly, because it's been a long time coming. Secondly, because it's my last day in Fredericton and he wants it to be sweet. Not exactly sure how any day in Freddy can be sweet but we'll milk it.

4. I really just need the one still small voice right now.

"Sometimes it feels like it was yesterday: graduating, saying goodbye. That feeling that you get at 18 or 19 that nobody in the history of the world has ever been this close, has ever loved this fiercely, has ever laughed as heard, or cared as much. Sometimes it feels like yesterday, and sometimes it feels like someone else's memory."

My heart is ready but my ankles are chained.

I'm ready to be free - why won't you let me?

Eustace.

In the darkest night, you're a blinding light that allows me to see.

Overwhelming love, you who reign above, light my way, light my way.

This is the darkest time of my life and I know it should be the time in which I see him the brightest but I don't. I don't know how to get out of this mess, my heart hurts so much that I feel like it's going to kill me. I could really go for a moment like in Voyage of the Dawn Treader when Eustace becomes a boy again. If I need to be hurting, I would love for it to be in a peeling-away-the-crap-to-get-things-back-to-as-they-should-be. I don't know if I've ever been in greater doubt that my suffering has a purpose proportionate to the pain I'm experiencing.

I'll always remember an episode of Veronica Mars where V turns to Logan, who did something horrible to her, and declared as she was fighting back tears: "This is something I'm never getting over." She said it like she was punishing him, like he was the one who had to bear the heaviest load out of the two of them... Let me tell you, now that I'm hurt beyond anything I can recall, there is no comfort in such declarations for me. I can tell those who hurt me that I'll never get over this, but they're not the ones being punished - I am. I'm in a prison of unforgiveness.

I started last year at Kaleo to really try and forgive people before they asked, regardless of whether they ever asked, regardless of if they were ever sorry. Have I lost that? Was that ever as much of a challenge as it is now? I really don't know, I really don't know.

I suppose I can take comfort in the fact that I have testified to this: The chasm was far too wide, I never thought I'd see the other side, but your love never fails. Your love never fails. May I one day (soon!) testify to having reached the other side of this chasm, one far larger than any I've encountered before. And may I never be in this place again.

So... I guess I'm moving to New Brunswick tomorrow. It's kind of terrifying. I've never been. It's a really long drive. I have no money. I've got a lot of medical stuff to figure out. And I only know one person there. But what a person to know! I'll be living with one of my best friends from Kaleo, and I am beyond stoked to see him again... it's been just over a year since I last saw him. All my stress is starting to be overtaken by hope, anticipation and joy.

Father, may this be the most rich summer I've ever had in every sense. May it be a time of freedom and recovery, of new heights and greater ease than I've ever experienced. You are the one who is able to do far more than I can ask or imagine.

Invade my heart.

Tonight was so incredible. God is so good. My dance team is such a great support. Volleyball was a blast. My roommate is a wonderful best friend and true brother. My life is full of things that I would never have believed I would receive. My sleep tonight promises to be wonderful and peaceful and enveloping. And my Father who gives me all of these things is phenomenal.

Always trust.

I’ve been really convicted lately about how easily I let worry and, for lack of a better word, untrust interfere with my relationships. It’s not exactly news at all, but I’m seeing more and more examples of it. I’m also really realizing that not only is it something that causes myself a lot of damage and stress, but it’s not loving. In 1 Corinthians 13, Paul talks about what love is. It’s a pretty well-known part of the Scriptures, used often in weddings and such. I heard a sermon on it yesterday that proved pretty challenging. Could I replace the world “Love” with my name? “Matthew is patient, Matthew is kind”, etc? When the speaker got to “Love always trusts”, it connected deep. I don’t always trust. I have a really hard time not letting hurt from what seems like an unending amount of painful past relationships (of all varieties) rob me from the incredible ones I have now. I am failing to love people when I fail to trust them. I’d resolved in some pretty specific ways and in some specific friendships, not to tolerate worry or distrust anymore, to just walk away from it. And it felt done, I felt confident that it was done. But today I returned to the place I came home, and in the absence of many of the people I love so much here, I found much reason to worry, much reason to have anxiety or even feel hurt, by people that are wonderful to me, and then feeling more upset that they’re not here for me to spend time with and kill these feelings and I feel stuck in them, and that’s when I realized that I really can’t decide on my own to just not worry anymore, I can’t decide just to have consistent trust. I need so much help from the Lord in this it’s not even funny. Father, help me.

I’m really hoping this week doesn’t end up being as lonely as it feels it will.