yeah, whatever

On Heresy

2011-03-27T14:13:00.000-07:00

Capital ‘T’ Truth longs for ardent missionaries, not angry guards. If it were otherwise, He would have given a great commission more like: “Therefore stay and vigorously argue about theology with all nations, antagonizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and forcing them to obey everything you are convinced I have commanded of them.”

Truth is crucial, theology is import, orthodoxy and tradition are of immense value. Arguing is as often worthless as worthwhile, divisiveness is terrible, and fear-mongering is seriously obnoxious.

There are two kinds of fools, one who says "i know better than orthodox tradition" and the other who says "i know orthodox tradition better".

faith is a verb

2010-02-24T15:37:00.000-08:00

the life i hold here is fragile;
the eternal you give, robust.
the dreams i have may shatter;
the plans you make will not.

the strength i have is waning;
your glory burns ever hot.
the love i offer is fickle;
your love does never stop.

my motives are truly little;
your passions, grand as the stars.
the reasons i give are lowly;
none can measure the height of your thoughts.

yet daily you descend, quite willing,
to empty yourself in my hands.
and always you rush to forgive me,
for the wounds i inflict once again.

there is mystery here that defies me.
there is hope for a promised land.
there is love striving always to free me.
Lord, grant faith, though i don't understand.

risk required

2009-11-17T09:12:00.000-08:00

if i took a step toward that
i would have to be a brave man
real life doesn't come that easy
if i left behind a fear like this
i believe i'd be a glad man
but would they look at me the same

stepping out on that limb
is not just going to happen
risk is always required

safety is not security
surviving is not reviving
when your soul is slowly dying

requires risk to love for real
requires faith to get something better
requires change to beat the weather
whether you like it or not

lay down that fear
relax that grip
empty your hand if you want
to get a new hold on life

hold on to that neighbor
give more to that stranger
even die for your friends
there's still nothing higher

like it or not
there is risk required

the baptist

2009-09-18T19:25:00.000-07:00

best man in the true wedding
among men and prophets none greater
John, fulfilled in diminishment
was that what made you greater?
love. for the Son, your cousin
eclipsed disciple's pride
the voice calling in the wilderness
leaps at the Bridegroom's sign
but still not beyond doubting
to ask, "are you the One"?
was that just ignorance speaking?
about how the Groom should be?
or was decreasing harder
than you expected it would be?
but the blind did see
and the lame men walked
so i'm betting joy leapt again inside
despite the death you faced
and the prison you were inside
another womb to exit unto life

on giving

2009-05-25T11:33:00.000-07:00

I fear i am too detached from my giving,
for the people i give it to mostly give it away.
What good does that do me?
When i give to those
who give to those
who give to the needy,
am i really giving to the needy?
There's no human face on it.
I never see God do His work with it.
Oh, it's good that i give to those
who give to the needy,
for they do it better than i.
But it means more
when i give to a needy stranger
and look him in the eye.
Or even a needy friend,
if God is the reason why.
If i joyfully, faithfully fund the charities,
that's a good thing to be sure.
But that's not all
that the call to give is for.

i want

2009-04-22T13:15:00.000-07:00

i want a new world

i want a new body

with better reasons to sing

i want a pure heart

one that doesn't feel the shame

of the weakness hiding in me

i want the strength to believe

and the vision to see

that i can share in that world

today

i want the patience to wait

and the mind to conceive

so this hope can overflow me

i want to see you

with my eyes not just my mind

i want to know you

with fingertips that are mine

i want forever

filled with possibilities

i want this tension

to be just a memory

i want you to teach me

how i really ought to be

who it is you're making me.

i want to look up

and love the people that i see

with the things you know they need

one year

2009-03-15T14:17:00.000-07:00

one year,

sadness still.

that, too,

is good.

time passed,

laughing girl.

that, too,

is yours.

tears rise

as blood falls.

that, too,

does hurt.

grey skies,

hide sunrise.

that, too,

can heal.

deep vows,

embrace truth.

that, too,

is proof.

love lives,

death is dead.

that, too,

brings peace.

it's not fair

2008-12-04T15:35:00.000-08:00

Ok, the last post was started out of frustration with the idea of fairness and became something rather different. I'm still irritated by "fairness" though. So i'm trying again...

I just don't see fairness as a very biblical, God-like concept, at least not in most pleas for it. "It's not fair" feels like selfishness well-disguised. It is "i deserve better" dressed up in the false humility of tolerance and equality. "Fair" is a word more meaningful in this world's economy than in God's economy. It is the failed law of "eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth" that need never touch the heart of the problem, the heart of us. It speaks always of shallow thinking or selfishness deeply buried.

Fairness is wholly empty of the sacrificial love and extravagant grace of God.

When i was younger, my siblings and i would whine, "it's not fair". My father's usual reply was the typical, "life's not fair." I, in the infinite wisdom of the adolescent, would always think, "but shouldn't we strive to make it fair?!" Now i know better. Fair would be a terrible thing for life to be, for in all fairness, we deserve nothing of the grace of God. The living root of true Justice is Love. Fairness is justice cut free of its living root. Fairness is a cold and loveless calculation. When we cry "it's not fair", we paste that calculation atop false assumptions about what we deserve to argue for the outcome we desire. And what outcome is that? Justification for our selfishness, either to share less of the bounty God has graciously and undeservedly given us or to covet what was graciously and undeservedly given to others.

Life is not fair. I am very glad for that.

phony shortcuts and cheap substitutes

2008-12-04T14:03:00.000-08:00

seem to be all the deceiver ever offers
in the garden, in the desert,
in my head.
to Adam, to Christ,
to me.
One of us three always saw through it.
fairness is Justice writ shallow;
tolerance is nothing like Love.
self-glorification is but vaguely like Glory;
believing in oneself has never taught Faith.
power is only in what you will give;
what you can get will never plug the holes.
there is only one true Hope;
only Freedom in the strong grip of Grace;
only Beauty in the straight highways of the King.
the shortcuts are cliffs and mires;
the substitutes polished by the tyrant's slaves.
still, only One of us three always sees through it.

Gilead

2008-04-28T09:43:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading Marilynne Robinson's "Gilead". I cried at its end, not for its end, nor because it was sad. It was beautiful. I sat there on the toilet reading until my legs were asleep to finish, a ridiculous place to experience beauty that would make one weep.

The book is no master piece of poetry, no epic, not the brash offspring of sharp wit or forceful essay of vast intellect. I would not call the story or its players particularly memorable. No surprising twists. No strange quirks. No gimmicks. No cliffhangers or breathtakers. The landscape is plain, with residents to match. The story moves slow, even sluggishly along. If anything in it is foreign or new to me, it is the age of John Ames. But that, too, is not unusual, only outside my experience to date.

There is no escapism or novelty to grab interest in this novel. I can think of little to recommend it to you, except perhaps to say that it moves me. Its town is blessed in the end by the old man, "To me it seems rather Christlike to be as unadorned as this place is, as little regarded." As the town is to him, the like-named book is to me, a clear yet gentle echo of real beauty, humble enough to be thoroughly human. The very bones of it are composed of grace, the muscle faith, the skin a little regarded, dying man.

If you read it, do not be afraid to take a long time and let it sink in slowly. As one reviewer on the back of this library copy says, it is "a book to be savored." It is rich food, best not gulped down in a hurry.

to my Lord and Savior

2008-04-18T14:14:00.000-07:00

come.
please, please, come.
it feels like all is wrong because you're not here.
my heart is screaming, screaming.
i want to look in your eyes
and know you understand.
i know you understand,
but i want to look in your eyes and know it.
i want a hug.
oh God, for even a word my ears could hear.
like this world,
i'm such a mess.
i know you're working on it,
but there's so much to be done.
and i'm tired
of faith
of hope
of love only my heart and mind can feel.
you've given me so many other ways to feel,
i long to feel that love with every atom and every thought.
come, Lord.
rule here
in me,
in this place.
i've heard you are making me new
and this place too,
but the waiting is so hard.
and i'm scared of praying for patience.
i know you're not a microwave
or a vending machine,
but Daddy,
you said you give good gifts to those who ask!
i read that in a book i'm pretty inclined to trust.
you being here would be a very good gift.
why not give that now?
if the timing is so wrong,
can i negogiate for something less?
will you instead
give my son a kiss from me
and tell him his earthly father loves him lots.
that'd mean a lot to me.
i know you love him more than me,
but i still wish he were here.
of course,
i know you're a dad,
so you don't need a gift in exchange
for the ones i'm asking of you.
you already gave me all i have
and don't need anything anyway.
so i guess i'll just remind us both that
i'm yours.
whether you come now or later
or even never (please not never!),
i love you.
even when i don't know why.
i just do.
i guess that's a gift from you too.
so, thanks.
a lot.
i mean that.

-me

to remind and remember.

2008-04-18T13:16:00.000-07:00

i have to live with this
most often below the surface

tears.

i want to live with this
it is that or forget

i will not forget.

there is a hole in our lives now
that was not there before

our son has gone.

don't mistake me for a sad man
joy is not in bluer skies

Love holds and molds us.

know where my treasure lies
candle lit and waiting on

the King of kings.

the waiting means there is love
that's what the lonely is for

(loop)

Phineas "Fyn" Bubna - March 15th, 2008 to March 16th, 2008

2008-03-16T11:47:00.001-07:00

so many places to begin at this end.
i must write while the words are mine.
and i must write.
grief has always flown from my fingers
far better than joy.
giving birth to these words
like all birth
means letting go
of some safety
some control
that was probably never really ours.

he is already in my dreams,
just hours gone
and i see his face in my sleep
and feel his soft skin.

the end of one day saw his birth
the beginning of the next his death
one sweet, precious hour.
one sweet, precious hour.
he tried so hard to breath.
his heart was good and strong.
i could not be more proud of my son
or his mother.
at the end of such a day,
how she looked so beautiful,
how she was so tender and strong,
i may never understand.
miracles surround us here.

i would have torn down mountains for just that hour,
but You gave it, You just gave it,
the most beautiful gift,
the last thing i wanted,
so much i was afraid to ask.
but You knew.
oh my God, You knew!
that fear i had,
prowling about my heart,
terrifying in its strength and closeness;
that beast you slayed for me
when they placed him in my wife's loving arms
to die so near the hearts of us
who loved him most and knew him best,
save only You.

we sang that lullabye...
the terrible beauty of it
so fraught with joy and tears.
it took us both to sing it
louder than the sobs.
neither alone could have sent him off so well.
i didn't know those words could mean so much.
good night, my love.
i have seen the glory of the Lord,
even as we groan inwardly,
wait eagerly,
for the redemption of it all.

in the peace of my son's face,
the warmth of his rosy cheeks
and tender little movements,
so few.
in the love that sobbed
and ripped
and clawed
through our hearts.
yes, grief,
the most awful face of love
in this fatal world,
and still so beautiful.
this is holy ground.
we must leave changed forever.
such a terrible blasphemy
it would be to reject the power here.

it may be some time
before i can sing that lullabye again
without sobbing.
but i will keep singing it.

i thought i would be so angry,
but anger wanted from me
a pride my desparation
could not allow.
will it now?
i don't know.
but i feel no obligation to feel that or not.
only love demands life and voice here.
only love can.
for

"it is love who makes the mortar
and it's love who stacked these stones
and it's love who made the stage here
although it looks like we're alone
in this scene set in shadows
like the night is here to stay
there is evil cast around us
but it's love that wrote the play...
for in this darkness love will show the way"

i don't just believe that.
i don't know how not to believe it.
i never have.

so goodnight was goodbye once more.
i already miss him so
that it is hard to envision life without him.
don't read that wrong.
i mean forgetfulness seems
as impossible as it is undesirable,
which is a lot,
my heart will tell you,
but is not totally so,
my heart knows.

we do not grieve as those who have no hope,
even as we may grieve much more than they.
for our grief is the parting of lover and beloved,
and everyone who loves is born of God
and knows God.
my heart knows.
that, another miracle,
my God your grace is so unfair,
how can i bear the weight of this glory?

grief feels so like fear,
for it asks of me faith
that the end is not the end,
for it's not what He has planned.
goodnight, my love,
we will meet again.

i do not understand the joy in my heart
such a strange bedfellow for this awful ache
for all that is not and will not be.

before he was born,
i knew this as the worst day of my life.
never such pain before, never.
every muscle in my face hurts,
for sobbing is such an effort,
such a hard-won gift,
from the body to the soul.
but then my first son was born.
that was one of my best days.
"i have come that you may have life
and have it to the full"
it was a full day.

the sadness comes in waves.
reality is, as usual, so surreal.
how obvious that this is not our true home.
this is not how it was meant to be.

every person who visits,
every hug and kind word or silence,
these are mirrors to me.
i see our grief in the eyes of those who love us,
and it makes me cry all the more.

and i am still so glad we sang to him
that he died in our arms,
near our hearts and ragged breath,
hearing our voices,
feeling our touch,
not alone, never alone.
and then he slowly grew cold.
my son is gone. my son.
my son, i love you so.
i will trust your heart knows.
for our love comes from God,
who alone could speak and you understand.
what tongues do you hear now as you sleep,
waiting for the revealing of a
new heavens and a new earth.
your new body will have lungs that work well.

palm sunday.
how i long for Christ to come
and gather us beneath his wings.
shelter from this fatal world.
i will greet Him alone as my king.

in a few days, Good Friday,
what it will mean now
that we too have lost a son.
so too our hope is in the resurrection,
and i bitterly long for that day.
when there is no more hope,
no more faith,
only love remains.

come Lord Jesus, come.
and while we ache,
come Spirit,
be our comforter.
with your many hands and feet and tongues, yes,
but most with peace in our hearts.
and we cry.

my son, Phineas Bubna,
was born yesterday, March 15th, 2008.
my son, Phineas Bubna,
died in the arms of his incredible mother
as we sang one sad lullabye,
today, in the early hour of March 16th, 2008.
one sweet, precious hour was all.
one sweet, precious hour.
Lord have mercy on our bleeding hearts.

Phineas, we will miss you,
and we will not forget,
for you are very loved.
thank you for being our son,
and you always will be.

we will keep singing.

physical is spiritual

2008-02-11T11:48:00.000-08:00

today, i'm thinking the physical is only the subset of the spiritual that presents itself directly to our meager five senses. i think the gnostic heresy goes further than wrongly calling the physical evil. i don't think it is sufficiently rebuked by biblical and theological defense of the good of physical creation. i think that still oft leaves the assumption that the physical is by nature not spiritual. i didn't even really realize i was groundlessly making that assumption until recently (which likely shows how embedded in western culture the assumption is!), and now, after some thought, i think the opposite is true.

the physical is inherently, intrinsically, thoroughly spiritual.

of course, there is also spiritual that lacks the nature of being physical; the spiritual is not in the least limited to the physical. but the thought that the physical is also thoroughly spiritual seems increasingly sensible and biblical to me. and it's a real paradigm shift for me,
overriding questions about how the natural and spiritual interact and undoing reflexive devaluation of mundane physicalities. it was a first step to realize that everything can have spiritual implications and eternal repercussions (however little i still live like i believe that). now, i do not see how anything could NOT have such importance.

we'll see how the idea holds up, though it's new to me, i'm sure not the first to have it.

what is love

2008-02-06T17:22:00.000-08:00

in early 2003, i grandly opined to myself...

"what is true love but a selfless obsession?
to put the best honor and benefit of the beloved
always and irrevocably above, beyond, and before
any love or hatred of self,
to be wholly rapt and unaware of one's own existence
in the presence of the beloved,
to be concerned only with the desire and interest of the beloved,
are not these things the only true evidence of true love?"

as ideas about love go,
i figure that was chivalrous, simple, eloquent and wrong,
closer to idolatry than love.
love does put the other before any love or hatred of self,
but it is no selfless obsession, unaware in rapt awe.
obsession, sure, but not selfless.
adoring, yes, but not unaware.
to tango, it takes at least two who can tango.
love is not love if its object is an object.
and love is not love if the lover is annulled therein.
such loves are idolatry, love's evil twin,
another sick, sad surrogate for the Real.
the idolater naively abrogates himself
in a feigned relationship with the temporal others:
stone and wood, money and fame, image and fantasy.
all dead, all dead.
the lover knowingly gives himself
in true relationship with the eternal, immortal others.
and i'll take it further.
love is not agnostic.
love is of God.
every love finds it source in Him.
there is no other.
we cannot speak of true love without speaking of Him.
for the second commandment is like the first,
it cannot stand on its own.
we cannot truly love our neighbor without in some way loving Him.
when we find true love,
He must have some part of it,
however obscured or impure,
else it is merely idolatry,
beautiful, in clever disguise.
This is no encouragement to doubt your loves;
look for Him in them and praise Him for his part,
that it may grow.
anyway, i wonder how much of this i'll disagree with in five years...

unreasoned and unreasonable

2007-08-21T16:43:00.000-07:00

much,
maybe even most,
of what i believe is unreasoned, unreasonable, or both.
i'd wager the same is true of you.
we all hold to things that are, either apparently or ultimately, nonsensical;
that is unreasonable.
we constantly accept things without understanding them;
these are unreasoned.
and many things we don't reason through we would find unreasonable.
now, to say something is unreasonable,
is not to say it is untrue.
that is another question entirely,
one i don't want to deal with here.
what i want to know,
is whether this is faith,
this active,
but not always cognitive,
trust in the subconscious assumptions,
traditional maxims,
fantastic religions,
inscrutable fundamentals,
shifting fashions,
and selfish lies
that underlie so many of our daily
feelings,
thoughts,
and actions.
is all of this faith?
none of it?
some of it?
if you asked me right now
to define faith.
i do not believe i could do that well.
i can offer cute analogies,
simplistic synonyms,
and scriptural descriptions,
i can talk about faith,
pray for more of it,
and even look up a "definition" in a dictionary,
but that's not what i want to know.
i want to know the length, depth, breadth and heart of it.
of course, it may be unreasonable to assume that i could,
but this is what's on my mind.

fear of faith

2007-08-08T11:37:00.000-07:00

faith terrifies me.
real faith.
utter trust.
i am so frightfully independent,
afraid of the cost of faith.
i know the truth.
my reason knows reason cannot be irrational.
my heart knows a desire unmatched in this world.
my spirit has felt His touch.
my eyes have seen His work.
my ears have heard others testify.
reason, desire, experience, sight, hearing.
but faith is a step beyond.
it is trust with self-abandon.
i want to have such strong faith
that the truth i know would be deeply and regularly real.
what i desire terrifies me.
my faith feels so weak.
i have not what i desire, what i fear.
have i some secret wish for weak faith?
do i pray in earnest when i ask for strong faith?
knowledge will never take me past fear to the faith i desire.
only perfect love can drive out the fear.
such love can only be a gift.
grace.
if i can accept it.
God help me, and forgive me.

of cost, contentment and cliches

2007-03-14T09:09:00.000-07:00

the great things in life never come without a price.
to be married is great, but it costs your singleness.
with every big decision,
we constantly give up one freedom for another,
one treasure for another,
one chain for another,
one debt for another.
such is the way of things.
this would not be so bad,
except that we usually take what we have for granted,
and we rarely count the full cost.
you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone.
don't get me wrong here.
it's ok to want more,
and it is good to mourn the loss of good things.
to be content is not not wanting or not missing good things.
one can even be in great need and be content,
for contentment is to know that all we have is from God,
to be grateful for all that He has given us,
and to understand that we cannot have our cake and eat it too.
there are a thousand cliches for what i am saying here,
and more than a few of them, i've already used.
but cliches are cliches for a reason.
again, the great things in life never come without a price.
the price for expressing the profound in a simple way
is that it will one day be dismissed as a cliche.
my advice:
do not treat such things flippantly,
however trite they have become.

where soul meets body

2007-03-08T08:39:00.000-08:00

I've been told that the modernist view of salvation and sanctification is wrong. that ideas of "making a decision for Christ" and "choosing to follow" are misguided. God does not save us by empowering our will to overcome the wicked desires of our wayward hearts, but rather, God captures our hearts. He gives us new, pure desires to combat the desires of our fallen flesh. God comes as a benevolent seducer, not a compelling logician. A theology of the affections, this is called, and i doubt i have done justice to it here.

But i fear the swing of the pendulum! One said it is about the will, and the other, the heart. Back and forth the ages go from modernity now to post-modernity, and soon we may return. I can see nothing new here. We're just shuffling the same boxes, drawing the same lines upon humanity in different directions and different shades. But i can draw no such lines upon my self.

Where does my will end and my heart begin? How can i divide my thoughts and my emotions? In this life, even soul and body cannot escape the consequences of the other. We are messy creatures, intertwined and woven tightly with threads we should not lightly discount. I recognize precious little of myself in such diagrams of the soul.

Please know, i do not protest curiosity here. Certainly, one should seek to understand the paradigms of the day and be willing to challenge them. I do not think these debates are worthless, but their questions are not mine. I can't accept the premise; i cannot see the lines between these things. But what are my questions? I'm not sure...

the blessings of the mundane

2007-02-28T22:19:00.000-08:00

life is surreal,
or at least it often feels that way.
especially before the pivotal moments
and in the quiet, introspective ones.
it feels most real in the trivial and the mundane.
there is something unflinchingly real about
washing dishes,
eating breakfast cereal,
cleaning a toilet,
carrying my daughter,
or digging in a garden.
i believe that we must need such things,
that these trifling routines of life are both essential and sublime
for those wandering in a finite world.
They are a ground,
a baseline that allows us enjoy the rest of life in peace,
not desperate for ever higher highs,
not collapsing in despair at our lows.

A question...

2007-01-02T09:43:00.000-08:00

I do not know who i am asking this or why,
but here it is...

Are you a pastor, a minister, or a preacher?
Are you a shepherd, a servant, or a teacher?
Do you teach with your feet, your hands, or your mind?
Are you a guardian, a lover, or a mentor?
Are you a king, a priest, or a prophet?

This is just one question and an honest one.
I doubt you can or should be only one of the three,
but i suspect one must be in the forefront.

Perhaps i'm meant to answer this myself.

may Your people be as one

2006-11-27T07:51:00.000-08:00

what do resources people have to offer?

time
needs (yes, needs are a resource)
vision
experience
money
skills
space
materials

how can we connect these pieces to bring action?
specifically in the Church?

these must usually be locally provided:

time
needs
vision
skills
space
materials

these are usually free of spacial constraints:

experience
money

i want to help the Church bring these pieces together to act more unified and more efficiently as the Body of Christ.
my vision is not for all the congregations of the city to be one, but to be as One.
and i want the city to know us as One by our love, not merely by our shared beliefs or labels.

how can this be done?

repetition

2006-11-13T11:39:00.000-08:00

as this is where i am moving my words, i am continuing to add old and odd writings to this blog. as such, i think it is good to repeat the disclaimer...

take care what conclusions you draw from these words.
the danger of words is sometimes we don't know what they really mean.
context is useful.
so here's a little of mine.
i write when i'm thoughtful.
i'm more often thoughtful when down.
i write emotions no less than beliefs.
these are only rarely careful articulations of my mind.
i reserve the right to disagree with myself.
people change.
but i'm trying not to revise the past.
so these are a piece of my yesterday.
think what you will.
say what you think.

from notes on Micah

2006-10-27T08:57:00.000-07:00

i found an old poem in notes on the book of Micah.
i haven't read Micah since then so i don't know if it's related or if i was off in my own world.
nothing particularly great about it,
but it's entertaining to read something of mine of which i have no recollection.
might as well share it here.
=======================
broken hands that try to mend
broken hearts all scarred and bent
work to hold the soul in peace
but they're always failing

can human hands heal human souls
can works of flesh fill us all full
what hope is found in mortal man
have we a rock on which to stand

so who are you to stand so tall
in time you know you're sure to fall
this life throws more than just bad curves
all you've gained, what is it worth?

daughter

2006-09-16T09:54:00.000-07:00

i have a daughter now.
two months old tomorrow.
unbelievable.
i didn't realize what an identity shift it is to become a parent.
why do the most significant parts of reality feel so surreal?
how can it be that this small person smiles so big when she sees me in the morning?
how can she be part me and part my wife?
never, never doubt the bond created by sex.
whether or not it does each time,
the mere fact that it tends to create a new person
who is part you and part your lover
is enough to prove it.
no, not even that it tends to do so,
but merely that it can.
that alone is enough to prove the dramatic significance and power of sexual union.
it is holy.
the very power of God.
the God who gives both life and meaning to flesh.
i thought i held sexuality in high esteem before Adelle was born,
but now...
consider me awestruck.

blindmandesign

2006-08-15T13:57:00.000-07:00

...is at it again. Google updated Blogger, so i thought i'd best give it a try, eh?

This may be the new home for blindmandesign. Or it may not. We'll see. Or we won't and just i will.

Let's see if at the end of the day this post pops up in Duvie's latest web frill. If so, then "Hi Adam."

Sylvan's request

2006-06-29T15:38:00.000-07:00

"Will you color with me?", asked Sylvan.

"Not right now, I'm going to go do..."

Something important.
I went to do something I needed to do, didn't I?
Oh no.
What a glorious invitation i passed on today.
i could have colored!
i never color anymore.
I saw i wasn't good at coloring, so I stopped.
Growing up is dangerous like that.
It's so easy to forget that playing isn't competing,
so easy to confuse the serious with the important
or the skillful with the valuable.
Sylvan wanted to color while Leo hid in a box
and Violette carefully balanced a pillow on her head.
How silly they are.
How wonderfully, worshipfully, beautifully silly!
But me?
Well, I had to do something important.

the here and now

2006-06-05T14:28:00.000-07:00

can you see beyond the here and now?
to worlds a thousand miles away
can your mind conceive what happens there?
your heart feel a stranger's pain?

can you see beyond the here and now
to where eternity awaits
do you mourn as one who has no hope?
where does your treasure lay?

'cause there is life there (out) beyond you
and there is life right where you are
and that tension that can tear you (apart)
is same that makes you whole

can you be right in the here and now?
live life like you could die today
can your eyes perceive the meaning in
the things that you see every day

be where you are
let your eyes see far
don't fear a broken heart

be where you are
let your eyes see far
let love break the calloused heart

the questions

2006-04-03T14:14:00.000-07:00

an amateur poet's epistemology
or an amateur epistemologist's poem,
part 1 (i make no promise of further parts)
------------------------------
yeah i know that we don't know
just how much that we don't know
or even why we know
all that we think we know

and it's true that Truth is real
or even nothing can't be true
and you can't question your existence
if there's no such thing as you

still the questions are always bigger
than the answers i can find
so there must be something more
than just me, myself, and i

but if there's more here than just me
that must include what i perceive
for what use is it to doubt
all that i can hear or see?

because the gap between thinking
and living such a thing
would divide me from all of you
that are listening to me

so the questions are still bigger
than the answers we can find
and there must be something more
than just you and i and why

the beauty of creating

2006-01-21T12:17:00.000-08:00

i received an encouraging email today.
from a woman who was encouraged by the words on my website.
in response, i shared that i, too, am often encouraged by the words,
even those that are my own.
that is the beauty of creating, in whatever form:
it sets something beyond yourself that can give unto to others
and even back to you.
what a delightful thought then,
to think of how God,
the Creator,
might be encouraged and blessed by His creations...
including us.
He has set something beyond Himself
that can give to others
and to Himself.
sixpence none the richer, indeed!
the economy of God is truly strange and beautiful.
i am grateful to be made in the Imago Dei,
with the power to create.

if i ever

2006-01-18T20:24:00.000-08:00

if i ever knew just how you love me
if i understood the way you feel
if i ever called just at the right time
i might know what i'm supposed to do

if i ever saw the view from your side
if i only knew all of the truth
if i could hold my gaze at your eyes
i might always agree with you

but i'm calloused on the inside
i've been crooked way down deep
i am used to just pretending
that i'm as good as i can be

if i ever told you how i love you
if i could ever show the way i feel
if i can stand naked before you
i might have your point of view

but i am calloused on the inside
for so long crooked way down deep
and i'm used to just pretending
that i'm as good as i can be

save me jesus, kill me quickly
i must die a thousand times
before i will believe you love me
before i stop buying my own lies

these words fall easily from my lips
like so many words before
but have i ever really meant them
if i never love you any more

someday i'll see the bigger picture
and not this dim and mirrored view
but until then i'm just trusting
that you love me and i love you

still i'm calloused on the inside
i'm still crooked way down deep
i'm just trying not to pretend
that i'm as good as i can be

rights

2006-01-03T09:10:00.000-08:00

i don't think i believe in unalienable rights.
at least, i'm pretty sure i don't like the modern american version of them.
right to choose, right to life,
right to privacy, right to liberty,
right to pursue happiness, right to marriage,
right to vote, right to health care,
right to this, right to that...
i see no end to claims of "rights" these days,
and i'm sick of the idea.
it has become unabashedly selfish;
perhaps it has always been intrinsically so.
i can see no love in it.
if unalienable rights do exist, they must be divinely endowed.
the only way a "social contract" can make an "unalienable right" is to qualify the definition of "unalienable" until it is meaningless.
for a truly unalienable right to exist, it must come from an eternal Authority.
it must be a gift, as life itself is.
it is grace.
and i see no grace in our modern claims of rights.
debates over human rights largely amount to "deserves"...
"i deserve better!"
"we deserve this!"
"they deserve that!"
there's no grace in giving people what they deserve.
rights have become justice without love.
i think very little of things lacking love.
besides, we truly only deserve very little that we want and very much that we do not want.
a demand for justice can be a dangerous request.
love must rule or we are in serious trouble.

so i don't believe in a right to life.
i believe in a divine command to love one another.
i don't believe in a right to liberty.
i believe in a call to be gracious and patient with one another.
i don't believe in a right to pursue happiness.
i believe we are to love God with our all, for He loves us all dearly.
and if we love Him, we must love those He dearly loves.

so take whatever hotbutton political issue you like,
ignore all the foolish bickering over so-called rights,
and consider, "God loves them, how can we do the same?"

exceptions

2005-11-30T10:14:00.000-08:00

i'm a sucker for the exception.
my mind instinctively rejects or qualifies generalizations which it hears or concieves.
even that one i just made.
a friend recently repeated the claim that "all jokes have a bit of truth in them".
quick as a reflex, i said that wasn't true.
"oh, yeah?" she asked.
knock, knock.
"who's there?"
interrupting cow.
"oh, i hate that one!!"
everyone laughed.
she didn't even let me finish the joke.
but my point was made.
the funny thing is how my part in the whole dialogue was not forethought.
i disagreed before i consciously had the interrupting cow joke in mind.
but as soon as i need the example,
there it was.
no pondering required.
it's like a subconscious reflex.
one that has annoyed some past roommates and friends.
it annoys me sometimes too.
it's handy sometimes,
but i'm not thrilled that my first instinct is always to correct/challenge people.
generalizations, broad characterizations, and platitudes all have their proper place and use.
i needn't poke at every pigeon-hole.

the economy of God

2005-11-28T10:52:00.000-08:00

it's been suggested that a pre-millenialist Christian has little cause to be an environmentalist,
for such believe that this world will pass away.
therefore, to care for it is like polishing the brass on a sinking ship!
to the latter, i agree. to the former, i do not.
yes, God gave us dominion over the earth and its creatures.
to put it otherwise, humans are the rightful rulers over the earth and its creatures.
granted, our rule has been sullied and in-part usurped by Satan.
but we have much authority and great influence nonetheless.
this means we have responsibility.
no divine authority is given without responsibility.
capricious and selfish use of power is never divine, never righteous.
love is the rule.
and love is service and sacrifice; it is mercy and justice.
to rule with love is as much about the means as the ends, neither is trump.
even if we perfectly know all ends,
when we govern by them alone,
then justice inevitably slips into expediency
and sacrifice and mercy are twisted into potent guilt trips.
it is little better to govern by means alone,
for mercy too easily becomes a right and service a shallow duty;
justice is then a gamble at best.

i say again,
true rule is rooted in and led by love.
and love is service and sacrifice; it is mercy and justice.
if we are to rule this earth as it was given to us to do,
we must care for it and its creatures.
if we love the Creator,
how dare we treat His creation as a disposable commodity!
remember, not one sparrow falls to the ground without His knowing it.
so should you have use for a sparrow,
be sure that your use of it honors He who made it and watches over it.
so too with every rock and twig.
your power over them was not given for greedy consumption or reckless destruction.

so then, what does it matter if the ship is sinking?
so long as it has not sunk and care for it is our domain,
i will polish the brass on it.
do we not even tend to our dying loved ones?
some call it foolish to give oneself to lost causes or stand firm in hopeless situations.
but if the cause is just and we stand on what is true,
we lose nothing and gain much
that those who call themselves wise will never know.

the economy of God is strange to this world.
but it is True.

human inertia

2005-09-01T09:53:00.000-07:00

do you believe in addiction?
at times i have,
and at times i have not.
now i want to redefine it, at least for myself.
i believe addiction is primarily human inertia.
let me explain...
i do not believe we are mere physical creatures,
directed solely by physical forces.
neither do i hold to the conviction that our will reigns supreme.
i believe we are peculiar creatures of mind bound to matter.
each pulls on the other deeply.
true, most will agree to such a statement.
however, many will assert the ultimate dominance of one over the other.
let us use simple (if it be so) unhappiness as an example:
the "optimistic" mind over matter brigrade will tell you
that you are ultimately free to choose to be happy.
they will insist that no matter the circumstance,
one is always able to choose one' own attitude.
(others call such people the true pessimists,
for they imply unhappy people have chosen to be so.)
on the other hand, the more skeptic and scientific minds will say
that many people cannot be faulted for their misery
as they are wholly incapable of happiness due to their physical state.
it is these who believe in addiction as it is typically understood.
i believe this ideological conflict is all blind men groping elephants.
i suspect the ethereal and physical share both power and blame.
driving a car is a simple analogy.
if i choose to accelerate to 60mph on the highway, am i free to do so?
yes! (let us leave aside, for the moment, external factors like traffic.)
but not in an instant.
my freedom is restrained by inertia,
and perhaps also by the state and quality of my vehicle.
the same factors equally bear upon my freedom to stop or turn.
i am able to choose freely, but not to execute them instantly.
there are restraints of inertia, skill, and the state of the vehicle
there are costs of time and energy.
and there are consequences.
all must be accounted.
so too is the freedom of man.
i believe addiction is primarily human inertia.
take a famous old addiction: alcoholism
physicians seek for a physical cure. (our body defines us)
religion demands a decision to be cured. (our will defines us)
psychologists prescribe an emotional cure. (our experience defines us)
in each stereotype, the cause and cure are incomplete;
the picture of humanity is lacking key dimensions;
and too often, the inertia of man is little mentioned.
that is not to say that these three are at all unhelpful!
quite the contrary,
for if the man is the driver and alcoholism is the car...
it is religion which exhorts the man to use the brakes,
it is the physician who ensures the brakes are in working order,
and it is the psychologist who helps the man learn
to avoid the gas pedal and steep downward slopes.
the analogy of car and driver is adept,
and i could flesh out a full and detailed allegory,
but i think you get the idea.
we are free,
but we operate in a world and a body which restrain our freedom.
a man addicted is a man whose inertia prevents
the immediate execution of his will.
he cannot be dismissed outright as either unwilling or unable.

mystery and marriage

2005-07-15T08:44:00.000-07:00

Eleven days ago, I married the woman sitting here beside me.
She is so beautiful. I love her soul.
Even now as I watch her dream, my heart goes out to her.
Nearly seven years I have known her, watched her, and loved her.
The knowing has changed and the love with it, but the watching is the same.
Or so it feels.
I watch her eyes still, beautiful closed or open, and wonder.
Yes, both awe and curiosity, for she is both beautiful and other.
Even as we two become one, she is other.
She is not me; I am not her.
The otherness makes the union beautiful.
And the union is a fascinating mystery.
It is not a puzzle or mere idiosyncrasy, but a true mystery.
And like any true mystery, it touches all other true mysteries.
God, free will, existence, beauty, laughter, the Cross...
And it provokes both awe and curiosity, for all true mysteries cause man to wonder.
They teach us that life has meaning, it is more than just living.
Equally so, they teach humility; they tell us we are very small and limited.
Sitting here, a married man with his wife resting on his shoulder,
I am deeply moved by the mystery of marriage.
It is beautiful.
So is she.

contrasts

2005-06-13T14:37:00.000-07:00

i know light for i have seen the darkness.
but good does not owe its existence to evil.
nor are they equals in delicate balance.
evil only feigns to have such power and prominence.
in truth, the light would be light still, were there no dark.
but all dark would be nothing were there no light.
evil is defined only in contrast to good.
evil is good defied,
an utter lack,
a sucking, blinding, chilling emptiness,
a vacuum of spirit and life,
tragically embraced by devil and demon and many a man.
for lucifer sought to be beautiful beyond beauty Himself,
to have power beyond the Source of all power,
but beyond Him, there is nothing.
and the fallen one embraces that nothing still.
a finite death vainly striving to o'erwhelm eternal beginning.
but good is something tangible and true.
beautiful before there was ugly.
wonderful before there was dull.
honest before there was a lie.
and the light of its qualities shines out,
now even brighter and richer and deeper since the darkness came.
and i, born here in murky twilight,
have seen the dark before my eyes
and felt the pull of evil in my own heart,
yet i choose to embrace the light,
for the light is not drowned out by darkness,
it is proclaimed by it!

2005-04-04T23:21:00.000-07:00

...of homework and stress.

i am experiencing a critical lack of motivation tonight.
and it tarries still unfazed by impending deadlines
and unstirred by self-caffeination,
foreboding and grim in its determination to procrastinate.

in other words, i am so ready to be done with this semester.

two papers due tomorrow.
it's 11:20pm.
i've started writing neither.
instead, i'm writing this blog entry.

pathetic.

dreams vs days

2005-02-17T15:11:00.000-08:00

here in the muddle of tired and busy days
i can feel dreams and reality collide
it is a sad sound,
striving to steal all hope and joy
a fool i would be to let it!
for true life has the greater beauty
by which painless dreams pale to compare.
for a joy devoid of all meaning
soon retreats before boredom's onset
and a hope that never proves true
was naught but empty longing.
and how much darker, then,
is pain or fear in our fantasies.
but in the realm of real things,
even a pain, having either purpose or end,
may be found beautiful in the end.
and fear can vanish in the light of time.
how much greater, then,
is a meaningful joy and a sure hope!
so i will believe that a dream lost
is truly no loss at all,
and every dream found true
is counted as sweet surprise.
the Lord is on His throne;
i'll fear not the unfolding of days,
tired and busy though they be.

silence

2004-03-08T11:51:00.000-08:00

silence is not hearing what you long to hear.
and it is what it is, whatever the reason.
whether you can't hear it or no one will say it.
my life is noisy and full of silence.
desperate one-sided conversations.
mournful questions whispered to deaf ears.
i need a word.
i pray but i can't hear him.
how can a man know if he is deaf,
when he doesn't know what it is to hear?
i don't know what it is to hear him.
and because i do not hear him,
i crave other voices to speak the word.
but they don't.
or they can't.
or i can't hear them either.
i am trapped in skin and neurons.
pounding at the walls.
begging to be set free.
or have some company.
Jesus, are you in here?
please speak, i'm trying to hear you.

scars

2004-03-08T08:45:00.000-08:00

the old scars quiver and burn tonight.
at a touch they remember.
they remember all i try to forget.
i could shelter and cradle and guard these old wounds.
protect myself from the pain of memory.
but the effort would cripple me.
and never let me use these limbs.
the muscles would atrophy.
the bones would weaken.
the pain would be less.
but the injury far greater.
yet if i use these limbs.
and risk the pain.
the scars may in time fade.
maybe.
but tonight,
they won't let me forget.

take me down

2004-01-21T09:57:00.000-08:00

take me down tonight
i realize it's time
to give up the fight
for control of my life

i can't do this anymore
everytime i trip me to the floor
the same old roads
i travel whenever i'm alone

and i feel alone here
trying to escape from myself
but where can i run to
where i would be somebody else

so take me down tonight
i'm tired of asking, "Jesus, why?"
well maybe next time
i will finally get this right

won't you please save me
take me outside of myself
won't you please change me
i wanna love more than myself

under grace

2004-01-12T09:06:00.000-08:00

there's a restless longing resting in my heart
where the weakest whisper tears my strength apart
and it's whispering today
all the words i need to say
but i walled the whisper in right from the start

there is a word that can't be captured on a page
where the strongest words still decay and age
and i hear it in my soul
where a sound could tear a hole
in paper castles that i worked so hard to raise

there is a freedom that only chains can give
when temptation always tells me how to live
and it could be that fear
never had much power here
and it is mercy that pulls me to my knees

there is a melody that only love can sing
when beloved lacks the ears and eyes to see
and i think it might be why
all men are born to die
and a death might just be the sweetest thing

there's a restless longing stirring in my heart
where the weakest whisper tears my strength apart
and it's whispering today
all the words i long to say
oh lord, please let that singing start
oh lord, please sing into my heart

a prayer

2003-11-07T08:53:00.000-08:00

Lord, you are my gracious King
you've heard me cry, you've heard me sing
now once again i lift to you
this simple prayer

i know i am a sinful man
with unclean lips and unclean hands
yet you have taken me from death
into life

so help me live as your child
a holy temple, a blushing bride
help me love you as i should
until the day that you return

may your people be as one
may your will on earth be done
though we long for kingdom come
we are living here

open our hearts, open our hands
to live out love and take a stand
to show the grace, to show the truth
that is found in you

and i know that we are not
perfect yet, living in this flesh
but in our weakness you are strong
new life has begun

Lord, i would rather have you be
not what i want but what i need
so take my heart and set my gaze
on you

and may i be a light within
this dark world of hurt and sin
though i know it's not my home
i am living here

help me trust you like a child
unafraid to laugh, unafraid to cry
and hold on tightly to my hand
when i don't understand

Lord, you are a loving King
you hear me cry, you hear me sing
so once again i lift to you
this simple prayer

dreams

2003-10-14T22:10:00.000-07:00

tonight the hardest part of leaving
is letting all the old scars go
the mud below my feet is reaching
to pull me down, swallow me whole

i'm staring now at the horizon
the promise of a further shore
hope was not what i had hoped it would be
it's hard to hope in love alone

dreams
our bittersweet melodies
release
twisted notions of the way things ought to be

twenty years i have been knocking
i will wait for twenty more
he said contentment is for nothing
if you long for nothing more

to be content is not not wanting
i long for something more

the door

2003-10-06T11:55:00.000-07:00

september morning and i'm running for the door
there's a place out there i know i've got to go
woke up this morning to a whisper in my head
it said, "hey, this is what you've been waiting for"

so i'm running, yes i'm running for that door

been here a lifetime but never felt at home
i've not yet been to the place that i belong
it's not a question of where i lay my head
i just know there must be something more

so i'm running, yes i'm running for that door
because there must be, there must be something more

i've had this feeling ever since i was a child
a deep awareness that i was not alone
there is this longing haunting my repose
for a symphony this world cannot perform

so i'm running, yes i'm running for that door
and i am longing, longing for that song

and when i'm gone i am not coming back again
tomorrow calls me and it's calling me to live
a life that lasts for more than just today
time to set my sights on a higher place

september morning and i'm running for the door
there's a place out there i know i've got to go
woke up this morning to a screaming in my ears
it said, "hey, this is what you've been waiting for"

2003-09-01T11:44:00.000-07:00

do you ever feel like you're on the edge?
like everything could change in a heartbeat
and the world will never be the same?
i feel it--
that intuition that this isn't it.
the road i'm on will not be my path for long or forever.
i feel so very... temporary.
there's something more;
i just can't see it yet.
the change will come one day, maybe soon.
either the world will change or i will.
and if i change, i might just change the world.
i am almost becoming who i am,
who He's made me to be.
i've been cracked.
i've been broken.
i've been shaken to the core.
but i'm not free yet.
one of these days, i'll flap my wings.
i feel closest to it
when i sing,
when i write,
when i stare at the sky,
or look in her eyes.
and i know He's there.
and i know there's a reason.
though i may never have the words,
i know there's a reason.
each heartbeat is for more than the next.
life's more than just living.
else why is there Love?

in Your hands

2003-02-24T08:46:00.000-08:00

whom have i in heaven but you?
who on earth can lift my soul?
where can i go that you aren't there?
i know you hear my every prayer

i wasn't there when you made the heavens
there's so much here that i don't know
my faith has not yet moved a mountain
but your love still calls me home

i'm in your hands
i'm in your plans
it's all that i can do
to rest in this
in your goodness
for you make all things new

i don't why you have made these things
this world of grief and joy
please make me what makes your heart sing
i want to be a joyful noise

there's mystery and majesty in all that speaks of you
i'll always strive to understand
and even if i never do
still i will trust in you

short but tall

2003-01-08T09:32:00.000-08:00

there's a weariness in my soul.
it draws my head down and tugs at my eyelids.
the cares of this world.
my cross.
hardly a cross by many measures,
but the only one i've known.
still it won't break me.
it can't.
and that by no strength of mine.
there is steel in me yet not me.
it is a wondrous thing.
to know He's there.
to feel Him.
there's a laughter there.
at the end of me i find a strange laughter in my chest.
it is good.
strong.
sure.
have you ever stood at the edge of a high cliff,
looked down,
and realized the immensity of the ground beneath your feet?
the unmoving strength of stone and earth that holds you so high?
stand there.
rest on that foundation.
enjoy the view.
and laugh.
like a child on daddy's shoulders.
short but tall.
weak but strong.
the weight's not yours to bear alone.

love

2002-12-31T08:04:00.000-08:00

i don't love her because i want to be with her
i want to be with her because i love her

i don't want a deeper relationship so that she'll be my friend, girlfriend, or wife
i want her to be my friend, girlfriend, or wife so we'll have a deeper relationship

i don't love her because she's given me some reason to hope
i have hope for these things only because i love her

the love is first
Love is always first
He's the only reason i have
He's the only reason for any true love

Lord, keep me true to love
don't let the pain turn me in upon myself

let my life be worship

2002-09-28T14:49:00.000-07:00

Lord, here i come to Your presence again
crying "mercy!" oh Lord, it's Your mercy I need."
forgiven and amazed, i fall
at Your feet crying "holy, holy!"

time and time again, You've welcomed me in,
picked me up, and covered my sin.
You, my God, are Creator and King
of all that i am and all that i'll be

Lord, let my life be a worship to You
let my steps beat a song of praise
to praise Your name, no words do i need
so let my life be the melody

Lord, You're faithful to do
what You've promised to do
so i know that You're making me new
crucified for my sin, Lord You died.
now, in You, i believe i'm alive

the worst of silence

2002-09-23T13:00:00.000-07:00

as ever, her silence speaks to me in soft and painful whispers, saying all i wish i didn't hear, ever gnawing upon the edges of my soul. oh, for apathy! to shed the very burden of care and be free! but is this not the most fearsome risk of love? not hate nor rejection in turn, but rather, to be ignored by one pervading your daily thoughts? the distance from hate to love was ne'er so far as that from either to nothing! to think how it must pain God that we, His beloved creation, so oft choose to live not even in open rebellion, but as though He did not even exist! is there any rebellion more subtle and insidious? any rejection more cruel and utter? to deny the very being of He who created us, loves us and gives us all is surely an odious sin! do not, then, wonder that God should send such men out of His presence into eternal hell. indeed, is that not where they have sought to be?

there are better things

2002-02-01T08:07:00.000-08:00

today is beautiful. the sky is blue. the air is cool and crisp. the sunrise was inspired.
i sit in a cubicle today. i work at a computer. i write words few will read. i am uninspired.
there are better things in this life.
she is sleeping. she is beautiful. she breaks my heart. she is inspiration.
there are better things in this life.
it is the little things that get to me.
the little squeaky noises she makes when she stretches, yawning and tired.
the inflection of her happy greeting.
the stray brown curls above her ears that defy her control.
her smile. her compassion. her laugh.
her eyes break me.
are there better things in this life?
my mind says yes. the rest of me weeps in defiance.
could i love another so?
perhaps.
i have never felt this way before.
who am i to declare such a thing eternal?
but i would.
give me a crown and call me the king of fools, i would.
it wouldn't be my first mistake.
i insist it would not be my last.
there are better things in this life.
and beyond.
the flesh is temporary. emotion is fleeting.
lust is a drug. its promises are vicious lies.
infatuation is fuel. it burns hot and fades. it will always fade.
but oh, the heat!
love is...
...a decision.
love is the movement.
my love, say the word and i will move.
my Lord, say the word and i will leave it all.
but the silence is my agony.
here is my unrepentant desire.
i am the deaf boy.
and still i listen to the voices of the blind men.
i long for music. i crave her smile.
i crave her smile.
there are better things.

i got a job

2001-01-16T08:16:00.000-08:00

Well, i took a job yesterday.
...wow.
life is overwhelming and it's been like this for years.
just when i'm beginning to adjust, it's time to move on.
i try to step outside myself every once in a while;
i try to find some perspective.
i suppose you could say that i'm looking for the big picture.
it amazes me how life is at once fantastically long and terribly short.
i find the feeling indescribable,
and so it should be.
who would presume to describe a life in any phrase shorter than the years?
i could not justly biograph a single moment were i to spend a life trying.
and i certainly don't have the time for that.
in no less than a week i will begin a career.
i was confronted by insurmountable opportunities.
so, i made a choice.
i decided to take a job offer yesterday.
...wow.
i'll admit it,
i'm scared.
just like that, i made a decision.
it was not based on knowledge, guidance, nor intuition.
i made the decision because a decision had to be made.
that's not why it scares me.
every decision we make,
from the drastic to the trivial,
reverberates until our dying breath,
and many are made on far less input.
why should this one scare me?
i know.
...at least i think i do.
i fear that i will want to be elsewhere.
and the worst of it,
is that i would feel this way regardless of where i decided to be.
because what i long for has little to do with geography.

fervently

2000-10-14T08:19:00.000-07:00

well it's 8:10 on a tuesday night
and i'm rummaging thru the pieces of my life
i'm looking for direction
or an answer to the questions on my mind

lord, i don't know where i'm going
i can't see where you're taking me this time
but you said that if i seek you
then i will surely find out in due time

so i will seek you fervently
i'll forsake this world for eternal things
in you i find myself complete
so i seek you... fervently

so now it's 9 o'clock on tuesday
and still i'm feeling mostly undefined
i've heard the voices on the tv
say the answer is in me, myself, and i

but i know that there is more than this
this flesh and bone, this life i live
in you alone, i find my place
i'm not my own, i live only by grace

fervently, fervently, fervently, seeking after thee

and i know that when i seek you
i will surely find you
because you're seeking after me...
fervently, fervently, you're seeking after me

praying to be silent

2000-10-12T11:39:00.000-07:00

would that i could remain silent in my prayers.
so often (always?), i am speaking or thinking.
i don't know how to be quiet--
how to listen and let God speak.
i fear that i will never learn.
as nature abhors a vacuum,
so my mind abhors silence.
and i'm not sure why.
so i listen little and talk much.
and ever do i pray for God to speak--
to just butt in and interrupt my reckless train of thought.
it would not be rude, but merciful.
my ever-wandering mind is oft a burden on my heart,
and it starves my soul for silence.
even to concentrate on but one little thing is a bear,
for either sleep comes rushing in
or else my restless mind continually strays to other worlds.
idle thoughts are no less troublesome than idle hands.
indeed, they are often more so.

tonight

2000-08-20T20:06:00.000-07:00

tonight, the summer air cools my head, arousing feelings my mind fails to describe.
they overwhelm me. it is easier with my eyes closed, when i let my thoughts
descend into the bitter hopes, the dreams, and the warm flow of nostalgia that
ripples in my head, stirred from the depths by the sweet night air.
these times, these are the source of my inspiration. for a time, today slips from
my hands and dissipates into the city street light leaving me naked before the vigilant stars. unrestrained, unfettered, open-eyed and breathing deeply i can see my life clearly.
the nakedness is hard to stand. no, it is hard to stand. the urge within is to run, not for covering, not away from any eyes that might learn my secrets, my body aches to just run. run until the ache is no more, until i reach an edge where i can look out and find the meaning, find the end, the purpose--to run until i know why i'm running or i can run no more. am i alone? is there any other who runs after a place to stand? to stand without the ache? is it even there? will we find it and look back, look back over the worlds we crossed so long ago and smile ever so slightly? such thoughts, such wild dreams. surely this is inspiration, desperation, insanity, and despair. are they so different? though i surely tread among the presumptously grandiose, i must offer this. these few years we have, this life, this is too much to see, too much to understand. if there is any end to the ache or any place to stand, it will not be found while we yet breath. and perhaps, that is for the best.

looking out at spokane snow

1999-12-24T23:00:00.000-08:00

december 24.
while looking out at spokane snow.

you know, as i sit here looking out at the night,
it's hard to really grasp what it means to be just minutes away from christmas.
it's like i'm standing on the doorstep of a house i've been in so many times before,
and yet each year of late, i find myself mystified by it.
i'm filled with sweet nostalgia,
memories of yuletides long gone,
and a love for the simple traditions buried beneath this commercial, materialistic holiday.
and yet, the present thrills me none at all.
does age equate to cynicism?
i now only seem to find wonder in the memories of childhood.
it seems i desire this season and all its trimmings to conjure up these cheery phantoms of what was.
but it will never be the same.
as i think now,
i find in my heart a growing longing to be a father.
to be a parent watching the wonder and joy of my own children
at the mystery, magic, and love of christmas.
as if it were a piece of myself experiencing it all again for the first time.
i guess that is what christmas is about... kids.
it began with one child.
the greatest gift sprung from the greatest love.
and now every year we give gifts to each other in love.
and parents watch their little gifts from God wonder at the magic of it all,
and we remember what it was to be that starry-eyed kid.
and i hope that everyone... everyone,
breathes a deep thank you for the God who came as a child beneath a star.

attic window

1999-11-24T15:50:00.000-08:00

walking back down the streets of my home
of a childhood long ago
i remember the smiles and laughter
and i remember feeling alone

there sits a child on the porch step
i see tears roll down his face
they remind me of the ocean
and the songs she used to sing

there's a window in the attic
and there's no light on in the hall
and somehow they remind me
of where my heart was scared to go

there are church bells in the distance
but no echo in the snow
and the silence is an omen
of all the things i do not know

i'm looking back down the road i've traveled
i see footprints in the snow
some have held to the straight and narrow
some have wandered to and fro

and the moonlight fades
but the moon won't change
and the night wind takes me home
to a place where i
learned to justify
all the things i do not show

and the memory fades
but the past won't change
and she said, "grace, in time, does grow"
so on a pillow of mercy
i rest my brow
and dream of letting go

after death

1999-08-21T10:07:00.000-07:00

my grandfather died.

a bittersweet journey it seems though mayhaps a test as well indeed they are the same and both it must be a passing moment of beginning and decision stretched in time to fill our lives what a strange and wonderful thing it is to simply be and then... what? eternity awaits us it seems but what sort of thing is that another moment perhaps not passing and stretching just simply being unfollowed unchanging and yet still what is its nature pain, joy, or void surely the void is no moment at all and so if there should be a moment beyond that which passes then it must be good or evil but which here in this season of time i have felt both and both are within me it is in the decision that my eternity is chosen but how decided? is it the greater joy or sorrow felt or the greater given i should hope it is the given for it is only ourselves of which we have any control and yet here too our hope fails if the smallest evil given should keep eternal joy at bay for all have evil within i can only then find hope in a Saviour...

the treetops

1999-04-13T15:52:00.000-07:00

april 13, 1999

do you ever see the treetops?
watch them dancing in the wind?
hear their silence on a still night?
or their screams when no one's there?

do you wonder at the green grass?
ever-growing beneath the sky.
it has no worries, no tomorrows,
feels no fear, says no goodbyes.

and in this place where springtime gathers,
winters fall and summers fade
into years of constant changing,
days of sun and months of rain.

and yet i see about me,
one thing which still remains.
a beauty! no, a laughter
beneath the soil, above the rain.

laughter sprung from joy unending
and satisfaction in today.