My future brother-in-law spoke at my church last Sunday. Being one of my best friends for over ten years I can honestly say that he is one of the most genuine people I know. He stands three inches smaller than me, and I could have forty if not fifty pounds on him. I was nearly moved to tears (ya I’m a softy) when the congregation posed a standing ovation at the start of his podial entry, I stood clapping, swollen with pride that he’d one day be a part of my family and I his. He graduated a semester early with the highest honor that a school can give. He had two B+’s his whole college career. (So have I, in another sense.)

His message was prepared, practiced, and delivered with grand efficiency. Like his father, his every day timidly jovial demeanor pales in comparison to his charisma behind a pulpit. With the fire in his heart transposed to his mouth he eloquently spoke his message. Surreptitiously, the message he was speaking wasn’t saying a word to me. It was being drowned out by other messages sent through something else.

In my personal prayer life I pray for wisdom, Solomon-like wisdom. But more than that I pray for the power to live and portray righteousness amongst a liberal and godless collegiate community. Kyle is the perfect picture of what a righteous man should be depicted as. As previously stated Kyle when standing next to me is smaller, but I stand as half the man he is. His preaching skills are raw and full of inexperience. But with the tools of righteousness and wisdom that Kyle undoubtedly has, God is sharpening him each and every day, and by that…sharpening me.

It’s sad that this avenue for my thoughts has been cheapened to a frequent update on how my life is going. In the ‘days of ol’ I always had more to offer back then. Lots of things to update on but I’d like to focus on the most important aspect:

I’ve always been the personality to talk about the elephant in the room. Lot’s of people have been bringing up a particular elephant in my life, relationship status. I’m at a time in life where every relationship I choose to delve into must be one of a serious nature. I know that sounds elderly hence the title of my blog. Most things that I think and feel on most issues tend to be that of an old man. Conservative and old fashioned I will no longer be dating every girl that shows interest in me. I’m tired of that, the thing that I like most about having a relationship with a girl is the companionship that it offers. Dating a different girl every weekend doesn’t adhere to that mind-frame, therefore those actions have been discontinued. (Not to mention it’s stinking expensive)

It goes deeper. I’ve also dedicated this next month and possibly more months to God and me. There’s always work to be done on a God fearing Christian. However, I feel that if my concentration and meditation is wholly on God (and not on nurturing a new relationship) I can accomplish this. Let’s face it; fostering a new relationship is always difficult. But my emotional plot thickens. I’m not entirely sure that I can be the man that God wants me to be in a relationship. By that I mean a list of things that I believe a man of God to have a handle on when leading a girl in a pure relationship. 1) Having God in the numero uno position in my life. 2) Having consistent individual prayer time as well as with whomever I will be dating. Which would lead into 3) a consistent growing and devotion time together. In my previous relationships, being comfortable in prayer and devotion was absolutely beneficial. Growing in God is always an amazing experience, but to experience it with a third party is truly special.

I just want to be everything I need to be before I plunge into something serious with anyone. Not just for my benefit, but hers as well. My wife is out there and I’m not worried that I’ll find her. But I think I’ll find her quicker when I let God be the girl in my life for a while. I know that sounds gross, get over it. I want a Godly wife! I want her to be steeped in the Word, and I want her to challenge me and make me better. Additionally I want her to scratch the back of my head when I drive, but that’s more of a request.

Thanks for reading.

Dear Oldman Newspaper,

Hello old friend. I must offer my most humble of apology for not writing in so long. I fear I’m living in a flavor where my creative mind is muffled by the work and overstimulation of summer, but only for a spell I can assure you this. I haven’t forgotten about you, the things you keep for me, the things you help me remember, the life lessons you help me document. Like the time I held that little girl through the corn maze (I Can See the End), or how much I miss my Grandma (Tears and Jimmy Dean). You help me tell some good stories Oldman.
I must say that I favor the stories of God’s unfailing love. How God has always come through for you and me. I’ve looked back through your archives and, oh my, there have been some dark days. Days that felt like rain clouds were following you and I around raining on every parade we made for ourselves. But again, God’s unfailing love won in the end. And I suppose that in this dark spell of unsure that it will soon pass and God’s game plan for my life will keep unraveling…in due time, in due time.

I write you Oldman with the writer’s block heavy on my hand. Who put it there I’ll never know. It’s been heavier lately, this block. It’s big and black. It heavy but empty. This block that’s crushing my hand is electric. It hurts. It’s not a pain that’s enough to stop my pen from pushing the ink, but a pain that’s enough to cloud my thoughts, even my judgment. I’ve lost something. Where does faith go when you lose it? I haven’t lost my faith don’t be crazy, but I’ve lost something. To put my thoughts to virtual paper subsequently and capture them accurately is like nailing a fly to jello. If I’ve gained anything in the past few months it’s faith. It was just a question. What I really want to know is where is God taking us, Oldman. All of these new convictions hitting me in the face, New Testament thoughts and  principles coming to light.

It’s not faith that I lack, it’s complete understanding. But will I ever really have complete understanding? Would that be dangerous? To be honest, I lack companionship. That’s it. The kind of companionship that challenges me, and makes my innate worldly self submit. The one that keeps me company when no one else wants to, even when I’m not willing. That companion that archives your thoughts and emotions and reproduces them in a way that’s positive. At first I found it in you Oldman, then put it into a girls safe keep. But now that I don’t have either of you where is my refuge? In that lies the answer.  Until I find refuge in the only person that gave me everything I’ve ever known, good and bad, deserved and undeserved, that Person will continue to strip everything away until I realize how truly naked I am with out Him.  Oldman I beg of you, don’t let me forget my one and only Refuge.

Regards,
Brian

Deuteronomy 33:27
27 The eternal God is your refuge,
and underneath are the everlasting arms.

I must warn you, an update my life is depressing at best. Summer school and work is not an ideal way that I’d like to be spending my time in these ultraviolet months of the year. But alas, here I am.

I can tell you that although stimulating activity in my life may be suffering; my spirituality is growing in leaps and bounds. Every day God’s grace becomes more prevalent as does my faith in His plans to prosper me. I’ve developed blind faith. But that’s another blogpress. I digress.

Cliché lessons are sometimes necessary. Being cliché often denotes redundancy and redundancies often denote importance. Furthermore I played drums for a worship team in Pendleton yesterday. Since I’m not playing for ACB any longer I’m kind of a hired gun. I play for whoever needs a drummer whenever they need it. God has given me an extraordinary gift and to not use it would be a disservice to Him and His generosity upon my life. Playing worship in different venues is a constant reminder of God’s omnipresence and everlasting qualities.

So I’m in Pendleton in a service that is trying to raise funds for a mission trip to Africa. The speaker, black as night, was undoubtedly a native of Africa. Americanized as he was, he still spoke broken English and was difficult to understand at times. Despite his English his message was clear as dew on a recently budded daisy. He spoke of Job, and Job’s legacy. How he loved God in any circumstance. Job went from a life of leisure and comfort to complete misery. Yet his worship remained fervent, and his devotion steadfast. This man spoke of people in his country, women being raped and molested, children starving, men being killed for preaching the gospel. They literally live on the Grace of God. We call him our Provider. They know Him as a Provider. We depend upon God for the provision of spiritual needs more than physical. The cliché that I’m approaching is frank. Here I sit in my home on my laptop, in my room full of Xbox games, clothes, shoes, fancy things. And a house full of food (that I often complain about) and furniture. And I walk in a world with high gas prices and a struggling economy. I’m complaining about not having enough money and worrying about replacing the tires on my car when there are people who don’t know where there next meal is coming from? Really Brian? Really? Shellfish Mr. Ramsey, down right shellfish.

Many times God will work in way’s that, all in all, are mysterious. They are so complex that our sheepish minds cannot comprehend its inner and outer workings. The brain is the most complex part of the human body. There are algorithmic equations, body movements, memories, and motor functions all being directed by one thing at the same time: our brain.

What about God’s brain? God’s brain created our brain. Think for just a second how complex an organ must be to create such a scientific phenomena. There’s really no use, our brains can’t handle it. (Ha) But what about the things that God does in our lives that we can handle? That we do recognize?

Thank God for the door’s that He shuts, and the doors that He continues to open. But more importantly thank Him for the screen doors, and the doors that creak, and every blink that God gives us into the most complex interworking organ in the universe, His brain.

I’ve spent most of my time having late late nights. Writing papers, studying for tests, looking at the book with everyone’s face on it. (Facebook) All the while sitting with a cup of creativity (coffee) in my hand. Please excuse my absence. Every time I would finish said tests and papers, my cup of creativity would be dry. It would have nothing left to give, no ink for my virtual pen, and no will to enhance my online persona.

If life were just a blink of an eye in comparison to eternity, the last time I wrote anything would be more of a bl…of an eye? Or just a b–of an eye? I’m not exactly sure. Things have been happening though! Changes in me, my life path, and everything around me. Allow me to focus on the most important:

In my life I have been blessed with a wonderful companion. Emotions are so hard to put onto paper so facts must be a close second. I know what love is. 1 Corinthians 13 tells us that love is kind and patient (Among many other things). We can read what love is, but to feel it is a different park. Previously (as well as currently) I’ve felt and experienced love from my parents and grandparents. In the second phase of life I’ve began to experience the love that they’ve shown me, come from other people. It’s noteworthy that a family’s love is all encompassing, and you find different types of love shown through others such as friends and close acquaintances. But a companion is the one outside of your family that has that all encompassing love for you.

I just changed my major. As a junior in college going for a business oriented Information Systems degree, I’ve switched it up. It all came down to one conversation that I had with this amazing companion of mine. Among the serious talks, devotions, and prayer time with this person we also have small talk. Sitting in the library I’m expressing the woes of my college career and how I’m not really enjoying any of my classes and foreboding the load ahead. She calmly looked at me and put it all on the table.

She told me that she understood that I wanted to be successful and make a lot of money. (And I do) One thing that I didn’t mention is that when you have a companion such as this they tend to know you better than you know yourself. This can be a perk. In this case it was a life-altering perk. Additionally she told me that every time I talk about things that I enjoy are never business oriented. That they have a creative orientation. Whether it is blogging, podcasting, or producing. Things that I had seen as hobbies and past times, she put on the table as careers. That week I changed my major to Organizational Communication, while obtaining a minor in digital publishing. That week might have changed more than just my major.

I think God puts people in our lives to give us a physical slap rather than a biblical one. I’ve been lucky enough to get my hands dirty with my church’s website as well as our college group. I’ve only been working the church’s website for a month and the college site I just finished this week. When I’m working on things like this it just feels right. If you’d like to bump the hit count on both sites I’ll spot you the link near the bottom. If you are in California reading this I’ll be needing an internship with my new major. If I can’t see you for a week I want to see you for a summer.

Synergy Campus Ministries

Glad Tidings Church of Muncie

All it takes is sixty seconds. From the same technology that ended World
War II, it disintegrated buildings, along with cities and people. We have something that will heat our food from the inside out in less than a minute. For me this morning it was not nourishment I received from Jimmy Dean’s delectable sausage biscuits, but a trip down memory lane:

My grandma Reba Ramsey died when I was in the fourth grade. Lung cancer was the culprit. That’s the proportion needed to take out a woman like my grandma. She was magnificent. She was a powerhouse of a grandma proportions packed into 125lbs of old woman. Tall and slender her demeanor was soaked with southern hospitality. Her southern draw made her tea all the sweeter and gravies all the tastier. It was Grandma Reba that made me these Jimmy Dean sausage biscuits when I was young.

She spoiled me along with my brother and sister, buying us toys every time we went anywhere. She made me biscuits and gravy anytime I wanted, and for desert, cookie dough ice cream. “With extra cookie dough.” I’d always command without fail. It had to have bothered her. But with her skinny hands she pick out little bits of cookie dough out of her ice cream and into mine. Along with many other spoiling tactics she’d also let me close the shower doors and splash as big as I wanted when I took my bath at night. I remember the mountains of bubbles she’d prepare just for me to crush them with my chubby arms. It’s almost funny to think about now. I remember her specifically saying in her soft and slow southern speak, “Now wait till’ I get out and close the door now, ya hear?” And upon the latching door I’d smite the bubbled mountain people and their homes. All of the tiled walls inside the bathtub riddled with their remains. She’d even go out in the hot sun or cold winter and play horse with me. She’d beat me even! She invented the “Grandma” between the legs shot. She’d take us to the local video store and let us each get our own game. And just when you thought her excellence was at its peak; she would play the games with us we rented, for hours. (NBA Jam, Sonic the Hedgehog, and Monopoly were her favorites.) She loved us so much. It was so unconditional, I think about her so often.

I often think about her death. How new death was to me at the time. How I didn’t understand it. How I still don’t understand it. In the forth grade I was forced into a whole other realm. Unparalleled to anything I’d ever experienced. Seeing my grandfather and father weeping at her funeral, to see two grown men steeped in southern upbringing cry and show such and extreme and intimate emotion. It changed me. I think often that my grandma was barely a sinner. That God looked at her and thought, “You should be up here with me as soon as possible.”

But more often than her death I think about her life. I think about all the things she did for my family and me and for her church. I think about how proud she was of her grandchildren. Often I wonder what she’d look like today, or what she’s day about my long hair and lifestyle. I wonder if when she’d feed me she’d still use the “growin boy” excuse. I know she always wanted to travel, and she certainly would have envied how lucky I am to do what I do. My grandma was a saint and a servant. I don’t think you can be one without the other. I miss her so much.

Overcast is a current theme of Indiana. If the Hoosier state has a constant, that constant would be highways, corn, and an overcastting chorus of grey shadowy skies. Today my drive to the airport was just that.

I was once asked if God ever speaks to me. If God communicates to his people, when, where, and how does he do it? A question that is worth examining. I believe that there are people, biblical experiences mainly, that have experienced the voice of God, that audible boom that is the voice of God Himself. I, however, have not been so fortunate. It is my belief that God has, will, and will continue to talk to people in an audible voices. (Maybe different voices? If I were God I’d totally be messing with people.) However, in His word He asks us to be men and women of faith. Skills are acquired, not given. I believe faith is a skill. And for God to ‘straight up’ speak to a person, there would be no process of skill building, therefore robbing the faith-building experiences that God has planned out for you in your life. Does God speak to His people? I can’t speak for people. But God speaks to me. He speaks through people, places, people in places, and things. But (for me) more directly through experiences.

I’ve been on many planes. I’ve been lucky enough to have the chance to perform/minister in many different places. One thing I always forget on my frequent rides upon this potential sarcophagus of death, is that in my ascent, the thing that awaits me. The naked sky, miles above the earth. Today on my way up through the turbulent clouds of Indiana it was shaky, it was depressing. The rain was drip dropping its way all over the window and its humid mustiness was leaking through the cabin. (Hopefully I’ve captured the scene well enough.) Although the ascent seemed turbulent, the constant that appears as a theme in Indiana is not a constant at all. The clouds are an illusion, a diversion rather. Those clouds are hiding the constant that’s behind them. The real constant that our sky contains is a warm, billowy blue. A brilliant brightness for clear miles and miles. Just as our lives seem, at times, to have a constant of foreboding and shadowy discomfort, what lies beyond the turbulence lies a peace and a warm billowy brightness. God spoke to me today. Amongst the different people, places, and things. Amongst the families returning home, the business men, college athletes, pop cans, doggie bags, laptops, and crying adolescent children, God chose to tell me that things are always different than what they appear. I challenge you to start looking for God in the little things. A blue sky awaits you, dawg.

Psalm 23:4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff; they comfort me.

I realize this is late but every Thanksgiving I make a list of the things I’m thankful for. This tradish (I shorten words sometimes to make myself seem cooler) started two years ago and the list has grown to many in number. Be thankful peeps (See? I did it again.):
My family,
Gas fire places,
Diversity,
Music that speaks to me,
Animals that speak to me,
Calculators,
My arms and legs,
21yrs of successful living,
Sucky times in life,
Love seats,
My laptop,
Jake,
The microcomputer revolution,
Matlock,
Clip art,
Facebook/Myspace,
Ctrl A,
Love that doesn’t fade,
Star Wars,
Tylenol,
Stove top stuffing,
People that keep me humble,
Bar soap,
Sports center,
Lint removers,
The Buckle,
Sponge Bob,
Warm days when its supposed to be cold,
Windshield wipers wiping to the music,
Old women with blue hair,
Wal mart,
Baby ducks,
Old pick up trucks,
The circle of life,
The lack of human understanding,
Forgivness,
Payton Manning,
Safe auto,
And did i say matlock?
Table salt,
John Mayer,
Wireless Internet,
Halo,
Pictures,
Ice cubes,
A/C,
Velcro
Kraft Singles
Velcro Strapped Shoes
Mach 3 Turbos
Peace that surpasses understanding
Speedway Slushies
Manifest Destiny
Courtney Mathews
Shower Mats
Family Matters
Girls that drive green Minivans
Screen T’s
Family Portraits with matching clothes
KOIN
Glad Tidings (ABF)
Jake Davis
Steak
Remote Control’s
A friend that sticks closer than a brother
ACB
Drums
Cuddling
Shock collars for dogs
Love
Diversity
Electricity
Ethnicity (Just to keep the “ity” going)
Caffeinated Beverages
HALO
Mashed Potatoes
Burnable CD’s
Wi-Fi
Lazer Mice
Txting
Zip-up Fleece
Natural Wood Promark Drum Sticks
Gel Pens
Starbucks
Having the means to obtain a college education
Remote Controls
Garage Band
Rock Band
Photoshop
Audio Books
Defrosters
Crunchy Leaves
Got2BGlued
KOIN
Staple Removers
My Bike
Umbrella’s in Drinks

This is an old blog that I was looking through one day and found. I’m not having writers block, because I could always just write nonsense and put it up for amusement. However I’m going to spare you my idiocies. I wrote this blog my freshman year of college. It changed my life:

• Just like every Wednesday morning I arose at 9:12 (yes that is the time I set my alarm clock for) and partake in my micro waved jimmy dean sausage biscuits. One would think that this would get old, but I assure you those biscuits cannot be beaten. A little off topic I know, but they’re amazing none the less.

  Anyhow, this frigid morning I’m walking up to Ivy Tech and see a withered man in a trench coat passing out little green books. Amused by the awkwardness both put out from him and other students that approach him, it gives me a sinister smirk. As I neared this withered man I saw that this was no little green book, but the New Testament with other nib lets of books thrown in. Almost annoyed by the fact that he would even offer a Bible to Brian Ramsey, otherwise known as the saint of Ivy Tech. (Kidding I assure you.) ”A copy of God’s word today?” So I took it with a bold “Thank you sir,” and took the small passage not missing a stride in my step.

  It just so happens that this morning was my day to give a speech and as usual I don’t really prepare and was going through the speech in my head. I had to take up three minutes…easily done. I did just that, I gave my speech with great poise might I add, and took my seat. (Surely everyone was jealous.) We had to share a time in our lives that changed us the most. No need to tell you what I shared because if only the moment that I experienced would have happened a day or even an hour earlier, I would have shared that. (You might have to read that sentence twice.)

  There is this girl that sits in front of me. I don’t know her name, or where she came from, what she likes or dislikes. I don’t know her from Adam. She came to class with nothing, cept this green little book. You could tell she had a rough night, or rough weekend for that matter. Her name was called because it was her turn to do her speech. She presented no paper to the professor, but stood in front of the class and started to tell her story. It turns out that she had spent the weekend in jail, domestic violence was her crime. Through teary eyes she told the class how her boyfriend had beaten her, controlled her life, and was telling the girls in the class the warning signs. She told everyone that you had to act alone. Because no one person could help you. That if something needed to be done, to act alone. I was not only appalled at the fact of a man beating/controlling a woman’s life, but that this woman felt as if she were alone in this world.

  As she continued to her seat three feet in front of me, I sat. I sat wondering what I could do to make her feel like she wasn’t alone. This was no ploy to woo her into my arms, but to let her know she’s loved, even in the times she felt when she was most alone. And as a brother to a sister, I slipped but one word and two numbers in my Bible into the correct page…Psalms 27:1. And I nonchalantly said to her, “Will you trade me Bibles for a tick? I think mines better than yours.” She looked at me with the most accurate thoughts of me being crazy, but then her eyes softened at the sight of that slip of paper book marking a passage that could possibly change her life. She opened it, looked at it. Stared at it, studied it. The longer she took the more my eyes began to itch and the more my heart felt what she was feeling. She then turned around and simply said, “Thank you.”

  I’m not the best Christian, and I never will be but I know in my heart that this morning I changed that girl’s outlook on life. Even if it was for a second. It was a second that I could give her hope through our Lord and Savior. And that I hope and pray that that one second, could change an hour, a day, or even a life, through that second. Don’t underestimate God and His plan for your day. Cause every morning you wake up, God has that little thoroughfare waiting for you to stumble onto, and change someone’s life.