It's also the kind of stuff I need to think about, and I fear if I try to replicate it here, I will miss the point or say something totally wrong or not capture the essence of what Johnno was saying. Instead, I'll discuss my own thoughts, and if you're not interested in more religious stuff, skip down to the next cut. The thing that struck me the most from the conversation was the story of Abraham ... I wanted to say something then, but I couldn't, because the story leaves me speechless. There are no words to describe just what it does to me; it leaves a very powerful impact and I now appreciate it on a much higher level. For those of you not familiar with the story, Abraham was promised by God that through his son, Isaac, he would father a great nation ... and then God told Abraham to sacrifice Isaac to him on Mount Moriah. Besides the fact that sacrificing your son is a bloody horrible thought, the simple fact is that God's two statements stood in stark contradiction to each other. It's rather hard to father a nation when you are dead! However, after living so many years in dependence upon and faith in God, Abraham got up and headed for Moriah with his son. I feel the crucial point comes when Isaac asks Abraham where the sacrifice is and Abraham replies with "God will provide." Not "I think God will provide," or "I hope God will provide," or "I don't have a bloody clue and I'm doubting that God even asked me to make a sacrifice," but "God WILL provide." And guess what? God provided a ram.
The story proves a valuable point. Some people say faith is believing in what you can't prove and that it's some massive defiance of logic. Some will tell you all faith is blind and stupid and it exists in stark contrast to reality. The opposite is true. At its fullest extent, faith is knowledge. Abraham had enough faith that he knew God would not test him beyond his limit; Abraham did not know just how God was going to work out the seemingly contradictory statements but he KNEW God would do it somehow, and he knew this through faith. Quite often, we are presented with situations that appear to be like crossing the abyss. We waver, stand on our side, try to find another way around, or run away. But when we do make the attempt to cross, we don't go tumbling down - we find we step onto solid ground. And as this continues, we waver less, have more faith, and ultimately come to know. We step out over the abyss, knowing we will plant our feet firmly on the other side because God will always give us a means to keep us from falling. He gave Abraham a ram, didn't he?
I feel I've butchered the story, though today has not been my day with words at all. I'm still shaken up from last night. Whatever the case, I needed that discussion with Johnno, because now I'm not afraid of next year. Or ... I'm still nervous, but I don't want to run and hide. I know I can actually move up to UQ if needs be, and I'll survive. The abyss isn't there any more, just a solid landing that I see somewhat hazily.
There were other things we discussed, but I'll leave them for another day.
Here's a little story from last night.
I'm very lucky I chose to go to bed when I did. All my actions before I went to bed culminated in me falling asleep before 10:30pm. I'm one of those people who has trouble getting to sleep, so although I usually go to bed before 10pm, I'm often still awake at 11. Last night, however, I was fully comfortable and slipped quickly into sleep before 10:30. Had I been awake at 11, things could have been much different.
At 11, I was woken by a knocking (re: pounding, thumping, banging) at the door. In my half-asleep state, I assumed it was someone, probably James, who had gone out and forgotten a key to get back in, and because everyone was asleep, they were knocking loudly to try to wake someone up to let them in. Being half-asleep and feeling totally lazy, I figured whoever it was would wake up someone else and they could go open the door. If I had been more alert, I most likely would have done what I've done before when Robby's arrived home without a key - stuck my head out of my door and invited the person in through my room.
Well, they did wake someone else. Alan. He came down to the lounge, opened the door ... and received a swift headbutt. Yes, a HEADBUTT. The fellow thumping on the door didn't even bother to see who it was. Upon realising that the person opening the door was not James, this moron demanded to see him, and when Alan stated James wasn't home, a very loud and violent argument erupted. I don't remember much of it now, but some of the choice quotes from the moron included "the fucker has twenty-four hours" and "I'll bury him." Mum came racing down when she heard the yelling, and Alan told her everything was alright, so she turned to go back to bed, only to hear the guy thump Alan one. Apparently he staggered around the kitchen, doubled over, nearly unconscious. I don't know. I just heard more yelling, some of it indistinct, and I still wasn't totally awake, though by this point I was well and truly shaking. Alan finally persuaded the moron that he'd "fix it," whatever 'it' was, and the guy departed.
I just about wet myself. I was shaking like a leaf. At first I couldn't figure out who the argument was between - I initially thought James and Alan or James and a friend, but then I realised it was Alan and a voice I didn't recognise, and when I heard the moron yell about killing someone if something didn't happen, I thought we were being violently robbed. I didn't know what was going on. I was too scared to move. Then I realised the whole incident was to do with something someone had done, either Alan or James, and finally the guy left. I'm even shaking as I type this. I don't think I've ever been scared to live in my own home before. For a while when I was lying in bed, I was thinking about how I wanted to leave, and a combination of last night and my conversation with Johnno has made me almost want to move up to UQ now.
A little while later, Mum came into my room, just as I was starting to get to sleep, and part of our talk then amuses me now. I'll say some words around my mother, but some I will not. Well, I finally said one of them last night. After she explained to me who the guy was, I remarked "lower fucking classes." I don't know if she actually caught it seeing I was mumbling in my half-asleep state, but it still amuses me for some reason. Weird sense of humour, I know.
And just who was the guy? The father of some girl James has been with in the past. It's a messy situation and it's not even my place to explain it if I wanted to. What must be said, though, is that James will mix with some weird and dodgy people, and I can see why I avoid the lower classes. The irony is I come from below the poverty line, but I swear, there's a difference between the poor and low-income and the lower class. The low class. People wonder why classism exists, and it's simply because of morons like the guy last night who are as thick as two short bloody planks. Lower fucking classes indeed.
Oh, and if you're wondering, the guy will probably be up for assault and burglary. Yes, burglary, because he entered the house with the intent to commit a crime. The way I understand it, the police will issue him with a warning, and if he approaches us again and/or depending upon the truthfulness of some of what James has told us, we will pursue court action against him.
Urgh. I could quite happily live without crap like that. There are some true morons in the world.