a man of stature: "russell sherman has no goals." russell-fist represent.
it's completely unfair to be led by a heart: through relationships, through jobs, through school, through life. but, when you're led by something that is true, your heart is a wonderful accent. but, what's true? what can be legitimately relied upon? God can.
when emotions run high, a lie is easy to embrace. i have, for however long, run chiefly on self-worth. my faith was a small one and my pride comprised the remainder. it's easy to say, "hey. i'm a Christian. i believe in God. i'm going to heaven when i die. i have no reason to be afraid. i have no reason to be discouraged. i have no reason to be pessimistic because... i am under the control of a big, strong God." it's easy. i know it is. it's who i was, and what i'm ashamed of. i knew those things, but i never really felt them.
i am happy in life. i desire what's worth it, and i can't help but speak what i'm feeling. there are so many cliche "christian" things to say, and i could earnestly say many of them. i was always questioning of people, "do you mean that, or is it something you want to believe/say? are you convicted, or do people expect you to be? do you really feel something? is there something real that is actually working on your heart?" go to a red letter concert; not all of those kids are singing to God. even so, i am now more apt to trust a Christian heart. i am more empathetic towards an overflowing of joy. i'm real. this is a real thing that can really happen; i trust it whole-heartedly.
i will still screw up. i will still make dirty jokes. i will still be bitter towards friends. i will still argue with my mom. i will still think about girls too often. i will still go to bed without first reading my Bible. i will still make fun of people. i will still pick on jason about his unusually soft hands. i will still get slapped when i pick on jason about his unusually soft hands. regardless, i'm starting to care less about what the world wants. i'll still slip, but i'm truly working on it. if you've never seen me motivated, i'm probably not surprised. but, i'm getting there. it's cool. you should try it. purpose is grand.
p.s. ask me about dead baby mice. you know, the frozen ones.
when emotions run high, a lie is easy to embrace. i have, for however long, run chiefly on self-worth. my faith was a small one and my pride comprised the remainder. it's easy to say, "hey. i'm a Christian. i believe in God. i'm going to heaven when i die. i have no reason to be afraid. i have no reason to be discouraged. i have no reason to be pessimistic because... i am under the control of a big, strong God." it's easy. i know it is. it's who i was, and what i'm ashamed of. i knew those things, but i never really felt them.
i am happy in life. i desire what's worth it, and i can't help but speak what i'm feeling. there are so many cliche "christian" things to say, and i could earnestly say many of them. i was always questioning of people, "do you mean that, or is it something you want to believe/say? are you convicted, or do people expect you to be? do you really feel something? is there something real that is actually working on your heart?" go to a red letter concert; not all of those kids are singing to God. even so, i am now more apt to trust a Christian heart. i am more empathetic towards an overflowing of joy. i'm real. this is a real thing that can really happen; i trust it whole-heartedly.
i will still screw up. i will still make dirty jokes. i will still be bitter towards friends. i will still argue with my mom. i will still think about girls too often. i will still go to bed without first reading my Bible. i will still make fun of people. i will still pick on jason about his unusually soft hands. i will still get slapped when i pick on jason about his unusually soft hands. regardless, i'm starting to care less about what the world wants. i'll still slip, but i'm truly working on it. if you've never seen me motivated, i'm probably not surprised. but, i'm getting there. it's cool. you should try it. purpose is grand.
p.s. ask me about dead baby mice. you know, the frozen ones.