At first I didn’t recognize it. Perhaps I refused to recognize it, blinded by my own preconceived ideas. I had shut my eyes, determined not to see. But in time, I did see.

It was in the sounds of the morning: cars honking, people talking, construction workers putting their electrical tools to use, and birds chirping; all blending together like instruments in some strange orchestra

in the noticeably uneven chunks of a shady sidewalk, broken up by the expanding roots of trees that refused to stop once they had outgrown their little dirt patches

in the bits of shattered glass on the ground, sparkling in the noonday sun like diamonds in a sea of asphalt

in the lone child-sized shoe on the side of the road that might at first be mistaken as some abandoned or lost footwear but in fact had actually decided to go off on an adventure of its own accord

in the random patches of green that dared to grow, defying the urban wilderness of streets and buildings that surrounded them

in the variety of telephone poles, reaching up like brushes to paint deep red and purples into the cloud-patched sunsets

it was in the continuous presence of airplanes, drifting slowly overhead throughout the day like angelic beings, gazing down with interest upon the people of the ground and blinking their lights at night like tiny celestial eyes, as if to say, “we’re still up here, watching you.”

Yes, there was a hidden beauty to Los Angeles that I had not previously seen, had not even wanted to see. When I first arrived, I felt like a stranger in a hostile alien land. It did not feel safe, it did not seem familiar. But, slowly, I have begun to accept it. True, it is no San Diego, nor could it ever be. San Diego’s beauty is readily displayed and constantly maintained for any passerby to admire. Sure, it has its dirty parts, but they are easily ignored. But to see the beauty in LA you have to be patient, you can’t just pass judgment based on a cursory glance, you have to be willing to look into its grittiness and realize that there is something worth seeing in there.

In this way, people are like cities. It is easy to admire the ones that are outwardly beautiful, those who give off an impression of flawlessness and charm. They seem to be in control of themselves and in control of the situation. They smile when they greet you and they never say or do anything that might make you uncomfortable. And then there’s everyone else: flawed, smelly, awkward, dirty, damaged, insecure, and definitely unsafe. But even in the detestable there is something beautiful, something awfully wonderful that cannot be perceived through a swift look of dismissal. It requires a determined effort, but if we are willing, we can see the inner beauty of every human and we may even find that we enjoy it more than the pleasant surface appearances we had once been so fond of.

With the weekly commute from Los Angeles to San Diego and back, I tend to think about driving and vehicles from time to time. Here’s a few quick and otherwise completely random thoughts.

The freeway is full of signs: some are information, some for advertisement, and some are signs of warning. Life also is full of signs, but rather than always being flat pieces of metal and wood, the signs of life can often be found in the people around us, especially the warning signs. In accordance with the quote, “It takes a wise man to learn from his mistakes, but an even wiser man to learn from others,” I feel as if there are many whom I can learn from rather than following the same destructive path they have followed and having to spend time climbing out of a ditch. And, of course, the opposite is true. Life certainly isn’t just about what not to do and I have even more good examples in my life that, if I am wise, I will follow. On a side note, Coldplay’s “Warning Sign” is one of my favorites of their many songs. Definitely worth a listen.

Have you ever been lost in thought while you were driving only to suddenly realize that you’re not quite sure where you are anymore? This doesn’t happen to me as often since my “auto pilot” has gotten pretty good and I usually am driving back and forth between the same places, but it does still occur from time to time. It’s a bit unnerving when it happens, especially when you still can’t recognize the place after a few moments of attempted recollection. But it’s even worse when it happens in one’s life. This can happen if we loose our focus and forget where we are and where we’re going. If we let our attention slip from the things that matter we can miss an important on-ramp (the equivalent of a mid-life crisis) and end up lost. In such a case we should consult a map or (heaven forbid) ask for directions and backtrack to where we left off. It might take some time, but eventually we’ll be on the road again and headed for our intended destination. Sounds easy, right?

Having owned my car for over two years now, I can tell it’s beginning to reach that point. I’m talking about the point of not really caring quite so much anymore. Like most of my stuff, I took pride in its good condition with it’s shiny paint job and spotless interior. But now the windshield has a cracked star in it, the paint is chipping off where rocks have hit the hood, birds have stained it with their droppings, there’s scratches inside and outside as well as all over the hubcaps, the lower panels are faded from the sun and one of them isn’t quite as attached to the car as it used to be. And I know that with time it’ll only get worse. While I still want my car to look decent, it’s gotten to that point where I’m not nearly so concerned if it gets a little worn and beat up. I bet you can see where I’m going with this. Our lives can get bumped, banged, and knocked around so that we come away with a few more dings that we previously had. This can have a negative effect where we feel less valuable a more like something damaged and not quite as useful. But instead we ought to let such “breaking” experiences have the opposite effect, making us more useful because of an increase in such things as experience, sensitivity to others, durability, and knowledge. If we allow it, we can be broken but not destroyed. Two people can go through the same experience and one can come out shattered like glass in an earthquake and chopped into pieces like a felled tree while another will come out stronger like scar tissue and tougher like tempered metal. Fortunately, we are not like cars. We can heal. It is good to know that even for the smashed and severed there is still a hope of reparation and healing.

I finished Tozer’s short but powerful book, The Knowledge of the Holy. I loved it and look forward to reading more of Tozer’s work. I’m not really going to do much of a review of this one, but in case you’re interested, it basically goes over the primary attributes of God and discusses them in a short, understandable, yet weighty manner. I’d suggest it to anyone wanting to get a more solid grasp on the concept and personality of the God of the Bible.

I’ve started reading Flashbang by Mark Steele, loaned to me by my friend Heather. Having just finished the first chapter, I can tell already that I’m going to like it. In short, Mark uses comedic anecdotes and analogies to explain spiritual principles. At the end of the first chapter, during the more serious portion where he ties in the meaning behind his stories through discussions between his left and right brain, Mark makes the argument that freedom isn’t always a good thing. He writes that we’ve given ourselves freedoms God didn’t intend for us to have and we’ve attempted to cover up the consequences of those freedoms with more freedoms. In doing so, we’ve deceived ourselves and increased our own depravity.

All this talk of freedom got me thinking, what would be worse: to be in bondage while imagining you were free or to be free but still believe that you were bound? Both sides are deceived about their actual condition, though perhaps one is more content with the deception for the time being. While they both seem tragic, I’m tempted to think that the latter is the worst of the two. I don’t think you’d have to look too hard to find someone from either camp, and I believe that many of us have managed to get our foot into both camps in some way. We can become enslaved to certain things, imagining them to be freedoms and we can also heap unnecessary restraints upon ourselves, weighing ourselves down with burdens we were never meant to carry. I can’t claim to have all the solutions to such situations but I do know that we are to run the race with perseverance, laying aside the things that might ensnare us, fixing our eyes on the goal ahead. Just as a runner will put forward a great effort to meticulously remove anything that could slow him or her down, so we must also be diligent to remove those things which would prevent us from finishing well.