Time to Buffen Up

Fat jokes are overrated. I know that. I don't particularly enjoy fat jokes. But I really enjoyed thinking up / filming this video. It takes the focus off of figure and puts it on ... lifting weights? Haha. I'm such a punster, am I not?

You may have noticed that I put my hair up in ponytail fashion. I've never done this before. I did it merely to have a somewhat different look than I normally have. I don't want to appear too much as myself—I want to be a character. An unknown personality.

I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my brother Clint for his cooperation with this. He hurt himself as he dove over the bushes, and he was still plucking pine straw from his armpits when he suited up for work a while later. Poor guy. Help me make it up to him by subscribing to his YouTube channel and leaving him a kind comment: www.youtube.com/clintorion

On a personal note, I don't expect to be in danger of excess weight in the near future. My mom's side of the family is pretty fit and trim, and I seem to have the same type of build. However, I do want to start exercising again. I used to lift weights, do crunches and push-ups, and go for runs, but I haven't done much of any of those in recent months. I'm getting soft! Time to buffen up. Perhaps I'll post something about my progress later.

Until then,

Jordan

Drangs and Frills

Honestly, I didn't have any video plans this Friday. Usually I have the video recorded and edited BEFORE Friday rolls around, but this time I was at a loss. I don't know how it happened, but I just couldn't get anything together in time. Thus, being pressed for time, I decided to revisit my roots and do a random vlog-style video in the tool shed. The beauty of these kinds of videos is that they require little planning or preparation, no location changes, and no costume changes. Oh, and no script. That's where the editing comes in handy: it's easy to cut out all the boring parts. (A script minimizes boring pauses.)

The only real plan I had was to try my rapid talking experiment. I've done this in front of the mirror before, but that's not as big of a deal. I wanted to try it in front of a camera. What is it about a camera that makes your brain blank out? The experiment went okay, but not as well as I hoped it would. I paused too much, wasn't fast enough, and relied too heavily on stall words such as "Um, like, you know," etc. I'll face it: I'm just not a natural-born talker. I'll keep practicing.

I've wanted to do a vampire-themed series for a while. I was reminded of this because Twilight and vampires popped up in my spiel. We'll see what happens with that.

Buckle your seatbelts and hold onto your fangs, kids.
-Jordan

A New Cornucopia of Chances

New Year's has never been my favorite holiday. It is essentially a celebration of time passing, and time passing always makes me sentimental and dampens my spirits. The whole past year distills down to this one moment when the clock strikes 12:00, and the old year magically becomes the new year. All the progress I haven't made comes into focus and robs my optimism for the fresh start ahead. I always have a sneaking suspicion that the new year is just the old one disguise. The new year has a new label, and that's it.

I agonize over opportunities missed. But as I contemplated New Year's last night, I realized that I really shouldn't. I should learn from mistakes, of course; but always regretting the path not taken is no way to live. If everyone waited for the absolutely perfect option to come along—the one that will erase any doubt about whether it is the right choice, the one that will preclude any fickle inkling of changing one's mind—who would ever do anything? Who would ever marry? Who would ever take a chance?

Chance is inherent in the nature of time. We cannot know most features of the future. We can sift through the past for clues about how things might turn out, and we can glean hints from present knowledge how we may expect things to happen; but, at the end of the day, the future is still inscrutable. We must take some level of a chance if we are to live at all. The passing of time makes it this way.

Thus, in a sense, New Year's is a celebration of chance. It looks behind at old chances taken—good or bad, fortuitous or not—and looks forward to a new year full of innumerable chances ripe for the taking.

Maybe the last year's chances didn't turn out as I imagined, but some of them turned out better than I hoped. This gives me hope for the new year and its chances. I embrace the uncertainty of time this year as I lean on the certainty of my God who said, "I will never leave you or forsake you." I know that everything will not turn out exactly as I envision it doing, but I know that it will be okay. I must release my fear of not finding the absolutely perfect option and act upon the past clues and present hints I have.

This week's video highlights the uncertainty of our time here on earth. We can't see the future. We like to think that we have plenty of time left to live, but the reality is this: we just don't know. With that acknowledgement, how will we choose to live in the present moment? I seek the Lord for His wisdom for all of us. "Teach us to count our days; let us know how transient we are."

I'm Jordan Powell.

I have lived on this earth twenty years.

That's 240 months.

1,040 weeks.

7,305 days.

631,152,000 seconds.

Moments fly by me in steady succession, marching towards eternity.

I'm not guaranteed even one more second.

I breathe in; I breathe out.

My previous breath tries to assure me that I will draw another.

But one day they will stop.

I'm here today, gone tomorrow.

Does that scare you? It scares me.

All I know is that I have right now.

I have one more breath to exhale.

One more moment to live.

How will I use it?

What about you?

How will you spend the breath that could be your last?

How will you live on what could be your final day?

"Lord, make me to know my end, and what is the extent of my days; let me know how transient I am. So teach us to number our days, that we may present to You a heart of wisdom."

Lord, help me to breathe each breath with purpose.