This, my dear friends, is life.

Compassion, in it's true, raw form, is so incredibly heart-wrenching and difficult to fully embrace.  As Milan Kundera states,  “for there is nothing heavier than compassion. Not even one's own pain weighs so heavy as the pain one feels with someone, for someone, a pain intensified by the imagination and prolonged by a hundred echoes.”   I never knew compassion until I became vulnerable with others and let others see me, in my true, raw form. Taking down the barriers that are endless smiles, a walk that says that I'm incredibly confident in myself, and the facade that I somehow had everything figured out about God, then, and only then, did I learn true, raw compassion (and still in the midst of learning). Compassion has always been something I thought I knew. I was compassionate. I hugged people whenever they were crying, and told them I would pray for them, and occasionally do follow-ups. I would randomly text people in the midst of their struggles, and give them an e...

So, if you know me, you'll know that I'm extremely passionate about a few things in life. Some of those things are happy things, some are not. Just like many young adults , I am also passionate about some real injustice that happens. This particular topic is, in my opinion, an injustice. Suicide. I can guarantee around 80% of my readers will exit out after that word, because we've heard it all, right? Listen, I strive to be a genuine person 100% of the time, so can we just be real right now? This topic burns deep into my soul, on a nearly daily basis. If you know me AT ALL, you will know that I have been touched directly by suicide, on a few occasions. I will post those stories at the end of this post if you would like to read. So, this post will be scattered, if you can't already tell. I can't fathom most of the emotions I face with this topic, but we'll give it a shot. I'm angry when it comes to suicide.  I'm not angry at the person that ende...

Beginning to feel something? Take a swig, and another, and another… Death. The single aspect of life that actually makes me want to avoid ministry altogether. Whenever one of your friends calls you and simply says "Ashton, my dad died." before you can even finish the words "hey, what's up?" and then loses it, what do you do? I know I'm still young and early on in my theological training and religious education, but I'm convinced there's nowhere to flip to in the bible at that point in time. I'm convinced no words, no matter how genuine, can truly speak to that person. And, sometimes during these terrible situations, I'm nearly convinced that our loving, caring God is not actually all that loving and caring. I mean, if He were, wouldn't He have prevented this physical death and intense pain among us that are still here? Emotions setting in. Take a swig. Breathe. Alright, alright. Maybe you're right. Maybe God IS always there...

"Not a fire, flame, or even a spark to be had…" It started out like any other day. I woke up groggy, for little sleep had happened the night before due to hanging out with friends and homework. Oh well, used to it. I get ready, and just like every other day, I hike up the hill, past the Lunn building, towards Weatherby chapel to go pray, just like every other morning. Typically, I pray for about 30 minutes every morning in our peaceful, wonderful campus chapel. As I was walking through the snow, one of my lectures from my Christian Beliefs class last week came into my mind. My professor, Dr. Larry Fine, had talked about how some of us owe the Holy Spirit an apology. This idea confused me, and I've been processing it over in my mind this past week, and it came back into my mind, so I thought surely that was no coincidence. So, just like every morning, I arrive in Weatherby and turn a song on repeat (this morning was Set a Fire), and sit down to pray. I realized that sitt...

Death is a part of life. That's a way to start out a post, huh? A couple weeks ago, a leader of MNU went to be with the Lord. She was a 20 year old spunky, amazing, incredible nursing student. I'm so blessed to have met her and had the interaction with her that I did. Her death shook our whole campus. It really makes you stop and think when a person that is barely older than you, dies. It makes you wonder a few things. It makes you wonder "what if I die tomorrow? Are all my goals achieved yet? If not, why not? Am I loving as I should be? Do those around me know I love them? Why, God? Why?" and, a question that came into my mind; "What is wrong with me?" Couple of reasons why I asked myself that question. First reason being, all these people around me are crying/sobbing, and  I sit there. (Don't get me wrong. I cried for awhile.) And, second reason, all my friends I've lost in the past are flooding my mind and are heavy on my heart. Why am I not thi...

So, I'm sitting here in my local coffee shop in the town I was born and raised in. I've been back home for a couple of weeks now, and I've answered the question approximately 2 million and 7 times at this point. You know the question. The "So, how is college? How was your first semester?" question. Please, don't take this the wrong way. I am so grateful to have such an incredible support system here at home that cares so much about me that is willing to take the time to sit and ask me about first semester. The reason for this post is that if you were one of the people that asked me about first semester, you know that my answer was one that went slightly like this "College is..uhh..well...amazing, difficult, confusing, etc." (among a few more words that completely conflict each other.) Now that I've had some time away from college, I've been able to process a little here and there. First off, I was slightly nervous to go to college. For the ...

I'm speechless right now. Where do I begin? Man, have I been blessed here recently. And I do mean beyond blessed. Things that others tell me I deserve have been happening to me, and I sit here in awe just wondering how and why I, Ashton Mason, the person that has caused so much heartache in this world, deserve this. I know Jesus provides redemption, but man, it's still difficult to accept. I'm at a point where everything amazing that is happening, honestly scares me senseless. One thing that college has taught me (or is in the process of teaching me, at least) is when to sit and think, and when to react on the spot. (Thank the dear Lord for this skill!!!) So, thank goodness, on a few different occasions, I have stopped to think before acting on impulse, and I'm convinced I have avoided much pain and trouble in doing so. Especially whenever life throws me things that absolutely put me on my knees and tears in my eyes, in the joy sense. When those things happen, I star...