If you don't know Casey

Ahem.

Gentlemen,

If you're seeking a girl 

with that chrysoprase sparkle,

whose eyes swim with lightning, 

bold joy and delight

whose looks will inspire 

soft men into battle

and strengthen the timid 

to run to the fight,

Then if you don't know Casey

you're sure missing out.

If you don't know Casey

then without a doubt,

your life missing Casey

is dreary and dull

but it sucks to be you, ha! She's mine.

If your thing is a smile 

like a springtime green meadow

and teeth like the moon 

on it's thirty day climb,

one that lightens your heart 

and quickens its beating

each time that she chooses 

to let its light shine,

Then if you don't know Casey

You're sure missing out

If you don't know Casey

then without a doubt

your life without Casey

is incredibly dull

But I pity you dude, 'cause she's mine

You'll have to keep looking, she's mine.

The Call from Thailand

A small boy sits alone on the street corner, head in his hands. Tear-streaked and bruised, little Khun hides behind fingers that are, “too delicate to be a man's hands.” His mother hates him, his father doesn't know him. An outcast, discarded and rejected, he collapses within himself, one small, cracking soul among countless millions. The masses surge by, uncaring, expending their lives in the whirling metropolis of Chiang Mai, Thailand.

Twelve years later, that little boy is no more. Years ago, he chose to become the woman Kamala. “Born of a lotus” and “desirable”, (s)he flags down passersby for a night of exotic pleasure. (S)he offers them a night with Kamala, who was Khun. A ladyboy, a mistress of the night, a lost soul in the darkness, bereft of hope, (s)he is clinging to life because it's all (s)he knows.

We go to Thailand to rescue the Kamala's. We go to find the Khuns who were lost long ago. Light Himself has promised to go with us into the darkness. Hope, rescuing the despairing. Joy, lifting the downtrodden. Purpose, choosing the ignored.

When I say we, I mean we three. The Lord is in the field, seeking workers for the harvest. I am traveling the miles from home, taking you along with the written word. We're looking to understand the raw truth of the need. In America, the demons are concealed and subtle. In America, miracles are quiet and the voice of the Lord is easily mistaken. I'm going to a place where good and evil are bursting the seams of the physical realm, to catch a glimpse of the truth. I hope that my discoveries from Thailand will help you see the reality of the people near you. Americans suffer as much as anyone, but they hide behind the walls of wealth and prosperity. Through the stories we find, maybe we can see a deeper layer of reality, a layer that equips us to bring life to our own world.

A life only gains weight when it is given away. So I'm giving what little I have in order to expand the Kingdom. But, a single strand is easily broken. I need you to stand with me. Where one can put a thousand to flight, two can defeat ten thousand. Together, we can bring change to this world.

As I head to Thailand, I'll be working with Lighthouse in Action to meet the needs of the people of Chiang Mai. MyDead Heart Lives, an online, servant-hearted community, has agreed to sponsor me. They are a viral group of Christ-followers based around the concept that, “Once Jesus is in control of my life, I don't have to worry about being perfect. I can focus on changing the world around me.” They use unique coins to track random acts of service, each serv-er passing the coin to the serv-ee. The coins have the URL printed on the back to direct people back to their home page. Each act of service is a marketing tool that gets servant-hearted people connected with servant-hearted opportunity. You can learn more and get involved at www.facebook.com/MDHL12.

Together, we're working to raise $5,000 before December 1^st, but we need help to start up the movement. Currently, we're taking pre-orders for the coins, so that we can get them minted and circulating. We need 150 of them spoken for, and then we can create the first batch of coins. After that, 75% of the profit from the movement will go to supporting me in Thailand, until my need is met. In total, it'll cost from $600 to $1000 a month for me to live over there. So, if the Spirit is prompting you to help, buy some coins on their website, go join the movement, or send me an email. Let's get MDHL up and running so that the world can taste the power of the Lord.

If you have questions about anything, I'd love to talk with you. Shoot me an email at hikingpeter9000@gmail.com. Join me in this branch of Kingdom work. Help me change the world.

Blessings to you all,

Peter

The Power of the Almighty Sea

I stand before the almighty sea, its tides lapping my feet

Wading on the edges of that endless giant, my soul has found peace.

As my gaze turns to the distant horizon, I know in my heart all will be well.

But as I stroll in the shallows I can't help but notice the crashing of the waves.

A dozen yards out, the almighty sea grasps toward the beach.

Time and again, with all of the force of a falling tree, its fingers beckon.

Dumfounding power resides in the water.

How would it feel to encounter that power?

Step by step, the pull of the tide draws me further;

it calls me deeper, it's subtle voice irresistible.

Stride by stride as the tow increases,

more of my self is allured

Suddenly, reticence grips me,

as my body rebels against the chilling grasp.

I can no longer continue in comfort.

The decision looms, retreat or continue?

Cost weighed,

In a moment of conviction,

the indomitable pressure triumphs

and I dive into its waiting embrace.

I am at one with the power of the almighty sea,

submitted to its whim and enveloped by its might,

It's no longer a relentless bludgeon, but a coercive current.

I burst to the surface to stride boldly deeper.

Wave by wave, it draws me further,

each passing swell lifting me from my feet

as my head bobs up and away from the earth

I am momentarily and inexorably abandoned

to the will of the almighty sea.

But the wave soon passes,

and dominion returns to me.

Yet no further do I venture?

Do I fear the almighty sea?

I have heard tell of men pulled out so deep that they could no longer touch the ground. They were lost to the almighty sea. There, in the midst of the endless water, they were completely at its mercy. One man in particular was swept out and lost to the world forever. I think his name was Enoch.

I too want to be lost to this world, adrift and beyond all footing. There must be some way, somewhere, to lose myself in the undiminished majesty, in the relentless, roiling power of the Almighty... sea.

How Do You Love Me?

How do you love me?

I am an animal, chasing down hateful desires as if my salvation meant nothing. Like Israel before me, my flagrant whoring reeks from the high places. Yet the Lord is faithful? His love carries on. My family remains faithful. My friends still love me and accept me. They see my lewdness, my blantant disregard of the gift I've been given, and yet they love me still. Why?

This is the best I can do to explain:

“Death. I am death. I hunt, molest, and kill. I prey on the weak and unsuspecting, luring them into abandoned trust before ripping their heart out. I destroy because it is what I do.

My name is Peter and I hate.

Love. I am love. I spend my effort, time, and thought for those around me. I give to anyone and everyone that I come in contact with, seeking their benefit with no reserve. I give because it is who I am.

My name is Peter and I love.

I am two men, polar opposite yet struggling for dominance over the same life. I am chained to death, yet living still. The things I long to do, I do not do. I do the things I hate.

My name is Peter and I am wretched.

There is a man who offers life. I chose to follow Him. He gave his life for me, I gave my life to Him. He is my hope. He is my freedom. He is the life in my soul.

My name is Peter and I am forgiven.”

People can love me because they see the life in me. I am reborn. I fight so that the good may defeat the evil inside, but I no longer want the evil to win. The ones who know me best will see my fight and love me for it. Death lives in my body, but I am no longer death. I am love, and I am loved.

-Rock Darkwater

This Earthen Vessel'd Treasure

There once was a man who lived in a town, much like the one I live in today. This man owned a priceless treasure, but it was locked away in a room and he didn't have the key. The man spent his days doing what was good in his own eyes. Then one day, a woman appeared in front of him. She had a key hanging from a chain at her throat. She took the key, unlocked the room, and together they beheld the glorious treasure. They took what they could carry and went out into the town to invest it. The two of them were quite satisfied for some time.

The years passed and the woman grew restless. Whether it was the treasure, the room, or the town, something displeased her, and she decided to go. As she made to leave, the man grabbed her hand. “Stay with me.” He said. But she would not be convinced. She pulled and pushed, slapped and fought to be released, until at last, the man let her go. As he released her hand, he snatched the key to the treasure room. Startled, she considered trying to get it back, but then turned abruptly and disappeared into the blackness that is beyond our story.

The man turned, gazing wistfully at the treasure in the room. Then he gently closed the door and locked it tight. The key, he hung on a chain over his heart.

For the man, the years went by as if he were in exile. He had made something of himself, but it was as if it were a dream, or an unfinished project that he couldn't complete. The treasure he had invested produced returns, but it never grew. The man gave what he could from what he had to people who needed it more than he.

Time passed.

As he spent his days he began looking for another woman. “This one must be different,” He said. For he didn't need the door to be unlocked anymore, he already had the key. He waited and watched for the one who would make the unlocking worthwhile.  

"But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us." - 2 Corinthians 4:7

Baby, Don't Hurt Me

“Love lifts us up where we belong, where eagles fly, on a mountain high.

Love makes us act like we are fools, throw our lives away, for one happy day.

We should be lovers!

We can't do that...” - Moulin Rouge

Love.

In the grand scheme of the American vocabulary, we use the word for lots of things. That fact alone has led many to discard the word altogether.

God is love.

In the grand scheme of the American vocabulary, we use the word for lots of things. That fact alone has led many to discard Him altogether.

Let us sit together then, and reawaken love.

Love, at its core, is a desire. It's a wanting. It's directed a thousand different places, but remains most simply explained as an intense craving for something.

Consider:

Lust.

Covetousness.

Greed.

Where is the difference?

All can be defined as intense desire.

Obviously one is right, the others, wrong.

But why?

In any kind of desire, there are two parties privy to the emotion, the desire-er and the desired.

Does the difference lie in the substance of the desired?

No, for you can both love and covet the same woman.

Therefore, the dichotomy would have to be found in the source of the desire.

In order to find the unique characteristic that refines desire to love, I submit this question:

How can a person love pepperoni pizza and love their wife of twenty-five years?

The Christian-ese answer is that there are different types of love. (Insert inane babble about Greek words and descend into chaotic pontification)

If the Greeks had multiple words for different kinds of love, and yet we only have one, have we lost the fullness of love? Did the Greeks love more than we? Perhaps, but I think not.

I submit that we only have one word for love because we need only one word. The carnal appreciation of food, the camaraderie of a brother, and the intimate connection of a spouse are simply differing applications and levels of the same desire. All love.

So there is one love. But what is it? How can it be defined?

In regards to love, Shakespeare wrote, “My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Now, Shakespeare being a poet, automatically understood all of the finer points of love. But how could he claim that love increases the more it is given away?

There is a riddle that floats about, (as riddles do) that asks, “What gets bigger the more you take away from it?” The answer, being a hole, sheds light on the fact that some things are in fact the absence of others. The cold dark, for example, is scientifically just the absence of heated light.

Thus, if love is a desire, and it increases by giving it another, then love must be an absence of desire for yourself. Love must be a desire of a thing to the point where you would give of yourself to have it.

At it's basic roots, this is Love. There is much more to it, myriads of applications, dozens of levels of intensity, and several perversions, but it remains, innately, a self-sacrificing desire.

Since love abounds the more it is given, and among the palate of human emotion, it ranks highly among the causes of happiness, I am lead to believe the following:

We should be lovers,

and that's a fact.