Redemption Defined

I read an article about a formerly homeless Chicagoan who earned himself a free ride to Stanford.

I thought...

Redemption is the sweet nectar of life.

That's why I've taken to blending it into my morning smoothie. Berries and redemption, the stuff of delicious.

Life is too short for nothing. Try hard enough, you could even create a new world. Write a book, make a movie, or... if you want the greatest new world experience, rise in the unconditional love of another. Dare a little more, rain that love over everything.

I'm not being entirely metaphorical when I say I drink redemption in the morning. There is a serious, grave, truth found there. Grave, because to miss this truth is to head to that very grey grave end. Redemption is the grace of life. My middle name is Evan, which bears with it the symbolism of youth and God's grace. In part, this has helped me to see what I see. There's more to a name than meets the eye, or the tongue, for that matter. However now, your name is what meets the tongue, and that is epically important. We speak things into existence. Two of my favorite biblical passages read to the effect of "Life and Death are in the power of the tongue," and, "the tongue sets fire to the course of nations." From the simplicity of speaking over your day that it will be radiant to soothing your baby in the womb with songs to walking into that eternal womb of a cathedral and basking in the waves of Gregorian chants or myriadical choral music with bright organ undertones, the nature of sound bears more influence in our world (and mind/body/soul) than many of us give credit. It's quite easy, to chose a song that will lift your spirits in the morning rather than something more dark.

That is grace, the ever-present opportunity of choice to step where you might find elevation. I've taken to this grace, this redemption in life, as my daily bread. You see, I eat gluten free. That doesn't mean, however, that I can't have bread. There exists in this world a dough so very delightful I never knew I missed a thing. I found it on the edge of historic downtown Boulder, at the Yellow Deli. The details don't matter so much as the nature of the principle, which is the understanding that the details don't matter. What matters is that there ever dawns a new day, and with that day, with the new sun, whatever happened yesterday is already past, and, while our past decisions do affect the opportunity we are presented with today, they do not dictate the choices we make with what we find.

So here's to a tall glass of redemption. Toss a little mango in there and you've got yourself the envy of nations. To hold eternal truth in your heart brings a peace that alliances have striven to attain for ages. Only by the revolution of hearts can this be brought, ne'er may it be bought by the resolutions of bureaucracy. That brings me to a social commentary on what it takes to revolutionize a heart, and what attempts we've made in vain to strike such a vein. Truth is, this commentary is scored by all of our historical accounts. All we can do is show the door, for, like all true revolutions, peace in redemption is brought about by a conscious decision to shift the nature of personal reality.

I live within a box of unbounded design.
A paradoxical paradigm?
Welcome to redemption defined.

In short: dance, for the music of today is upon us!  g)


Stanford Student:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/03/14/lane-gunderman-stanford-university_n_2876608.html?ir=Chicago&ncid=edlinkusaolp00000008