We’re all pretty selfish. No we’re not. I say that to prove a point. Just by using the word “we” there, I’m proving my own selfishness in that I’m unwilling to admit I’d do anything selfish. We’re terrible really (of course, by ‘we’ I mean ‘I’). I was thinking about it in the parking lot of HCC today. I had a pretty boring day class-wise, but it picked up when I found out there was free food (courtesy of our wonderful student gov.). But that to say: as I was walking towards the car, pretzel and fanta in hand, it struck me: Each car out there represents at least, at least, one person. Maybe sometimes 4 or 5. And each and every one of those people has different thoughts and desires. Different wants. Wants that would probably get in the way of their having an awesome selfless relationship with someone else in that parking lot. Or even in their home, at their job, wherever it is they go through life. Cause that’s really what selfishness does. It robs us of cool relationships, relationships that mean something. It’s not everyday you find those, and it’s certainly not any day you find those, as long as you have the burden of selfishness on your heart. Then again, lemme get things straight here: I preach, but I don’t practice. I’m selfish. I’m not gonna lie about it or say that everyone’s selfish too, cause they’re not. But it’s something I’ve been trying to work on lately, I guess. I think God’s been talking to me about sacrifice a lot lately. Sacrificing everything. It’s instinct to grab the fuller glass of whatever, but when you love someone as much as you love yourself, it makes no difference. You could give or be given more, but it won’t change things. We love ourselves: if we get the glass, rock on. It’s not about conceit or selfishness, it’s more of an indifference. We’re glad to give, but when given to, who’s complaining? And when we love others as ourselves and they get the glass, rock on too. It’s awesome that things turned out like this. Of course, all this reminds me of the person who won’t accept an offer.
“Here…you sit here, you’ll be able to see better.”
“Oh, no no, I couldn’t…”
“No, please”
“No, seriously, I don’t want to.”
To be honest, part of me just wants to slap that person and tell him to sit down. It’s just that messed up idea that by refusing, this person has trumped the one who made the offer in the first place. It’s actually, in some form, a way of robbing that person of their sacrifice. Anyways…I won’t rant. But here’s another thing: it’s not just with portions, but with our own comfort. Sit in the back of the car, squished between the two biggest friends you know, and be glad you have those friends. Of course, I use these trivial examples of sacrifice, but only to point out this: sacrifice isn’t so hard. And when it is, it’s more rewarding. But not in a worldly sense, like you’ll be more popular or you’ll “feel better about yourself”. But I think part of sacrifice is that it allows joy to flow. If I could just use a really basic analogy here, think of joy as the water in a hose. Maybe that was even your view of joy as a little kid, I don’t know. But everyday, we have choices. And through those, we can turn the spigot one way or the other because joy is a choice. Now, in view of sacrifice, think of the hose as being constricted. It’s constricted through all those things we do, especially through our selfishness. Our selfishness has wrapped itself around the hose and our joy is being choked off. So even if we do choose joy, we’re not getting much water. But where sacrifice comes into play is that it has the power to release the constriction, so now the water can flow freely and pour into the lives of others.  

Be Loved,
The Jack of Hearts 

“I don’t talk things, sir,” said Faber. “I talk the meaning of things. I sit here and know I’m alive.”

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