"We are once in a lifetime alive"

"This is the hole where most of your soul comes ripping out from the places you've been torn"

Yes I'm still awake, though barely.  I've wanted to write on here but haven't felt I had the time.  I felt today would be a good day to do so though, considering it is 12/12/12.

And, as usual when I wait too long to post, the inspiration is mostly gone.

Here's part of what could have been, had I written earlier:

I've been learning quite a bit about myself lately.  I'm trying to not be so self-deprecating.  I'm trying to live with a humble confidence, though it seems like an oxymoron.  Listening to myself speak, I think I have become very cerebral lately.  I think a lot within my ears and that makes for a lot of writing motivation with feeling.

Perhaps it is because I have been with myself a lot, that I get stuck inside my head.  And the fact that I also have had more opportunities lately to spend time with others and have taken advantage of them.  And I'm honest.  I speak what I'm feeling.  Most of the time.  So rather than just being stuck inside my head, I am sharing these thoughts that I've developed in my time alone and am learning to understand them better.  I'm learning to understand me better and even to be able to relate with others better.

There are also times (many times!) when I catch my heart dreaming.  I feel it trying to act as my mind but my mind knows better.  Still, if I let my mind's guard down, even for a second, my heart thinks it has the upper hand, and perhaps sometimes it does.

I've also thought perhaps my brain works differently than others'.  I have to explain myself so many ways.  Why can't I get it right the first time?  Have I lost touch with humanity?  Have I traded "comfort" for community?  Though, of course I know that, in a way, my brain does work differently than others' because all of us are different.  There's no need to get frustrated about this.  I can learn to live in community.

But community shall not be an idol for me.  At least, I hope not.  I do not wish for community for community's sake.  I wish for community so that I may better serve the Lord.  So that I may be a more effective servant.

I want to say more, but my mind has been tired for several hours now and it's been a long night as it is.  I also feel that what I've said here will suffice for now.

"I'm still walking the line the leads me home alone.  All I know I've still got mountains to climb on my own."

Hammers and Nails

So lately I've been in my head a lot.  And what I mean by that is that I have had a lot of negativity rolling around in my head and I can't seem to find a way to get it out.  It's like there is someone inside me trying to make me believe lies about myself.  How do I deal with that?

I've been taught to believe that alone I have no value, but when I am in relationship with God, I could not have more value.  Am I just getting stuck on the first part?  Or is it that I have been caught up in an obligatory love (which isn't love at all) for God?  I'm not sure exactly how to remedy this.  Sometimes when I'm driving, I find myself longing for someone next to me, someone to lock hands with.  This places weights on my heart and I don't feel fit to lift it from the depths.  I then feel that I am seeking fulfillment in something temporary, something that will just leave me with more holes than I started.

However, I know it will feel good.  The feeling just won't last.  So how do I escape that and look to the lasting Source of joy?

I can't take these infatuations.  They are foolishness.  They are empty and vacant with regards to love.  Though I feel that when sometimes when people see me, they see me with a "No Vacancy" sign.  That I just want to be with myself.  That I am a sufficient companion for me.  Still I know they know that of my self-depreciation.  So how can they see them both?  If they know I'm depreciating my value myself, why would they continue to hit the hammer with the nail?

Perhaps because I don't tell them of how bad I hurt.  And even in that, I feel that I talk about it too much.  That I come across as a constant whiner, and no one wants that.  That's what I've learned.  No one wants to be around someone who does nothing but complain and whine all the time.  But is it really whining?  I'm just trying to figure out who I am.  I'm trying to discover myself.  I'm looking in others to see me.  Why can't I look in myself to see me?  Sometimes it works.  Sometimes I do in fact see glimpses of myself inside, but too much of what I see from myself may not even be me talking and it's lies.  It's someone trying to convince me that I'm worth less than nothing.

So where do I go?  Will someone pull these nails out of my head?  I've done enough hammering myself and encouraged too many people to help me hammer them in.  I've even been the hammer to others, which adds nails to my own head just thinking about it.

And here's where I say I'm sorry.

I am a Dreamer and I know it All to Well

It's good to know I have a heart.

But that heart gets me in trouble sometimes.  My heart tries to think for itself and dreams dreams that twirl me around in circles.  In disasters.  I'm breaking myself thinking things could be possible that are far out of reach.  I'm dreaming of situations that have no basis on reality.  And I'm breaking myself but can't really stop.

And Taylor doesn't help.

I'm a dreamer and perhaps that's all there is.  The name of this blog comes from a song that states just that.  "I am a dreamer, take me higher.  Open the sky up, start a fire.  I believe even if it's just a dream."

And some of my dreaming just gets me in trouble.  I dream outside the rationale.  But isn't that what dreaming is?  If dreaming were rational it wouldn't be dreaming?

So there are wings on my heart and it's as if one side is lopsidedly flying away from the other.  It's spinning in circles, chasing after these vaporous wishes.  This isn't a relationship.  The other side knows.  Part of me will stay and the other will try to leave only to find itself spinning in circles just above me.

If you can grab me gently and pull me in, please do.  I'm swimming in the atmosphere between wishes, dreams, lyrics, and something that almost smells like hope.  Toss me the life preserver, though I want my life to be more than preserved.  If you're going to catch me just to prolong my life, leave me be.  I want a life enhancer.  Always something new.  Not necessarily materially, but something new.

So I'm still swimming among the weeds.  Getting tangled and thinking they're pushing me along, but really they're holding me down from the waves that I'm meant to glide in on.

Memories as companions and Infatuations as dreams

I walked down familiar roads today.  It was like walking through a time capsule.  Like I could see the people and the places as they had been in my life.  Where did the time go?  I saw memories of waiting at the bus stop and not even knowing if it would come or if we had missed it already.  I saw my friends and I reaching for the deck of a skateboard in the storm drain.  I saw memories of people putting forth effort to make me into a man when I was already becoming one in my own way.  I didn't need it to be forced upon me.  Manhood would find me, even if it's not in the form of how society typically sees it.

I wondered if becoming an adult was learning to be afraid.  Growing up there was little to fear except what seems to be legitimate fear-causing experiences.  Now, some things frighten us in ways that we couldn't imagine growing up.  Things we weren't concerned about, or we didn't have to come across.  Fearing what others think or what will happen to us.  Where do these fears come from, are they from so many experiences?

It was quite relaxing to walk alongside my memories.  It's not something I can do where I live.  Or the memories that keep me company where I live now are so recent.  They don't share the same nostalgia as the memories that befriended me today.


And then later in the day was  a sudden infatuation.  From whence did this come?  It was quite unexpected and my heart thought it was love, though I'm trying not to believe it.  I somehow got 20 seconds of courage and something happened.  But now I've trapped myself in seeing what others allow for me to see.  This infatuation came quickly and I'm not sure why I fell so quick or with her today.  Had I ever even spoken to her directly?  I'm not sure.

I don't really know what to make of it.  I know from experience though that this isn't love.  Though my heart my try to convince me otherwise, I must listen to my mind this time.  If it's something to pursue, we'll see, but right now it's important not to dwell on it.  My heart has had a heyday, thinking of the possibilities but I can't let it convince me.

Perhaps more on either of these two particular events at a later date.  We'll see.

Something out of Nothing from Everything

I thought I needed to write but by now I've talked most of it out.  It seems Autumn is a time for words to fall from my head.  Or a time when I wish they would because there is so much building up inside.

But one thing that still remains in the vines tangled inside me is this: You'll carry me out of exile.  If I just stop squirming You'll pick me up.  You'll make the effort to find me where I am and carry me where I need to go.  I don't need to hear You in a song.  I don't need to see You in words that I write or say, or hear another say.  You'll speak when I'm listening with what looks to other ears like nothing is there.  You'll speak when I'm listening.

I need to slow down to a nothing.  A nothing that is not laziness.  A nothing that is not sloth.  A nothing where You reveal to me that You're everything and You're in it all.  I need to stop listening to the world.  The world isn't saying anything.  When I'm listening to nothing You can be there.  You're there in the nothing.  Not even a whisper of the wind, and You're there.

You're the everything that allows the nothing to be something.  And I think that's enough for now.

This slope is treacherous

How can I stop myself from thinking of you when I can't even start?  When there's a voice in my head that feels like more than a voice?  Does the deceiver live inside me?  And what does that mean for my hope?

Someone inside says "I know nobody loves me, but does anyone like me" and I know it's not true.  So where do I run?  I try to find a cure and am running out of options.  Am I the same, just different phases?  The moon still shines, right?  Can I be the new moon, but shining?

I only know One who makes all things new.  It works.  He knows everything there is to know about me and still makes me fresh.  He makes me brand new.

Still, whose arms are these squeezing my heart?  What can I do?  How can I release them.  I just want time to myself that isn't to myself.  I want time to be with others.  Unscheduled (or is it unstructured) time that is has joy pouring out of it.  I don't want to break so easily.  I don't want to fold where the creases aren't meant to be.  The creases that I've made myself.  It's gotten so much easier to fold there and I feel like if I keep doing that, I'll tear in two, or perhaps more.

Still, this love is without conditions.  What does that mean?  My brain can't wrap completely around that. Thanks be to God that it cannot though!  I don't know it all.  Far from it.

My life doesn't feel like it's based on no conditions.  Even for myself.  How can I love others if I don't love myself.  Though loving myself feels selfish.  So I don't know where to turn.  I envision myself on the ground with my hands over my head receiving the punishment due me.  Or perhaps I'm just there preparing for it and it never comes.  My punishment has been paid for but it's so hard to accept.  Why do I just sit there on the floor.  I look down to nothing but my knees and the darkness below.  Who will lift my head up?  How will these clouds be removed.

It's like I must be picked up.  I can't just stand up on my own.  I need a fishing pole to grab my neck.  Thinking it will be painful to even sit up, but perhaps it's necessary.  Don't pity me.  Don't talk me down.  I'm already there.  Don't talk me up either.  Especially if it's not sincere.  I think I need a couple days to put myself back together.  What happened to the garden inside me?  I've spoiled the soil and I don't know how I'll grow again, though I sense that I'm still growing.

Pick me apart if You must but please pick me back up.  At least I don't have to cite the words in my brain.

I'm sick of just observing

I need a shove in the right direction.
Do I?

There are things that I really want to do.  I have dreams like the rest, but I also don't want to step on toes or put a muzzle on mouths.  I try reflect people's personalities.  I try to love people where they are.  It's hard to have to pay attention to everything I say.  I think that's why I think to much.  I want to show everyone they're loved so I try so hard to be conscious of what I say.  And I do that because I feel that too often I say things that hurt people.  So I try to be better about that.  How can I love if I'm just observing?  Am I just observing?

I am not outside of time.  I can't sit back while the world and time passes by.  I am an active part of this scene but perhaps I am too slow.  Perhaps I'm a computer with too much to process.  Everything is going on at once, or maybe not even that, and I take too long to consider my options.  Some things are about taking risks.  I need to take risks, real risks, not always calculated risks.

But I don't know where to start.  This desire for safety binds me.  Then I can't move because I've trapped myself inside.  And instead of not being able to talk, this time it's a lack of confidence.  I hear it in my head and exiting my mouth often but how do I change it but by "faking it until I make it."  Though I'm not completely comfortable with that.  I don't want to be dishonest.  One of the problems is I feel too much like I'm faking it when I try that, or that people sense my "faking it."  I'm too concerned with what other people think.  Where do I go with this?

My life is too calculated.  I'm a computer that's still processing.  How will I ever be able to help anyone?  I'm too concerned with the way people see me.  At the same time I want so badly to be known, so I open up to nearly everyone.  I'm trying to maintain this life in the professional world with just enough of my own personality.  Can I be myself?  What am I holding back?  Why am I so concerned with the rules and staying within their parameters and not embarrassing myself?  Though, at the same time I embarrass myself often.  I think it's the unexpected embarrassment of myself that I don't like.  I can't control it.  I am afraid of what people will think if I'm myself and not who I should be.

But who is the "who" that I "should be?"  Dividing myself in half to make everyone happy so that I will be content.  It doesn't bring contentment.  I am not two different people, though sometimes it seems like more!

Does learning more help or does it fill my analysis paralysis with more potential guilt?

Letting go to be free

I know both sides.  The letting go and the building back together.  But I don't like them both.  Letting go is easy.  It's easy to forget what's around me and just move around like tectonic plates over subterranean hot spots.  The trick comes when I have to be conscious of what's around me.  How do I go back?  What do I go back to?  And where am I going?
I get a feeling something big is happening.  I can feel it but I know not what it is.  My heart sometimes turns upside-down and I don't know what to think.  I want to fast-forward out of here to where the problems are solved.  To where we're not living on the brink.  To where the edges of disaster and majesty have been crossed and we're on the other side.  We have something defined and we're not so concerned with what others think but we're concerned with others.  It's like some days I would just rather be in hibernation until my mind has learned its way around this world.  And some days I just want my heart and my head to get back together, or at least be on speaking terms.
Some days are good, I'll say that.  They're even beyond that.  But what is it that I am sensing?  Does anyone else feel it?  Even if I turn my heart back on it's head, I sometimes feel that it I'll discover the skewer that is holding it in its place.  No one can understand words that come too heavily from one source so perhaps it's time for me to shut them up.  It makes sense even to me because the sewer they're escaping is nearly empty anyway.  It is easier to close the floodgate when there is not such a rush of words.
Oh, but here's another thing.  It's like Taylor is trying to convince my heart that I want something.  Or I'm convincing myself of that by listening to it.  I don't know what to think really.  I do know that somehow, despite all of the gruesomeness of it, it would be quite an experience to hold a beating heart in my hands, but when will that happen?  Perhaps only metaphorically.  Which reminds me of one more thing: metaphors and clichés came from somewhere.  Sometimes they feel like more than just words.  Like a broken heart really feels cracked.  But that's it for now.  You can go read something else now.

Catching words like rain from a hole in the roof

Quick!  Before anymore words leave me in the form of little more than an invisible breeze!

I thought I loved you but it was infatuation.  Infatuation is for me is perhaps a feeling that I must realize more.  So often I think I "fall in love" with someone but that must be what it is.  Love is patient.  I can't fall that quickly.  Can I?  I don't think so...

I thought I fell and on paper it looks so good.  I thought about it more.  It seemed good.  It seemed legitimate, but now I don't feel it anymore.  I'm not bitter about that though.  I am actually glad that I don't feel it.  In the past few years or so I've tried to convince myself that I want to be friends with someone (many someones in fact) and just see where that goes.  That has meant that I am really hoping for a more intimate relationship.  Something I can't get so quickly from humans.  An intimate relationship will not be established in a day.  It will not be established in a week.  In some cases, it may not even be established in a year.  We must endure a lot of time.  We must see people in different situations.

Like a friend I have.  When I first met her I'll admit I had a crush on her but that time wasn't right.  I was infatuated with her, though I barely knew her.  Over time I let it grow, when I had hoped the time was right.  That has happened at least a couple other times since then but now I feel so much better about it.  I don't feel like I have about past people, where I think, "perhaps this time it could be different."  No, I realize that I love this person without holding back.  I love her as a friend and have realized that that is something I can do.  It's possible to love a friend.  And we can be honest about that.  In fact, it is the being honest and open that has really helped us out, I believe.

Before, when I let my heart think things that my mind knew weren't true, I got myself in a bind.  Now though, we are beginning to understand each other.  She knows that my heart runs sprints and while my mind is a distance runner.  She knows to be clear with me and I am comfortable being clear with her.  Previously we had said things about that but now it's clearer.  Or perhaps now we're actually doing it; we're being honest with each other.

And that's just something that I wanted to say.  Some of the other words may have already evaporated, but this was helpful.

Wear this love on your sleeve

Remember that nothing?  Yeah, That means nothing!  Don't let the things you pick up or the things attached to you cloud your mind or your heart.  It's so easy for us to think that we're beyond repair but that's not the case!  Let's dwell in love like the love that dwells in us.

Short and sweet for now.

Who is my Pharaoh?

Too often I wait too long to write these words I get.  This time it's been a few days but I think it'll be alright.

Anyway, while reading 2 Kings: 17 the other day I got to thinking about some things.  I was wondering, "Who (or what) was my Pharaoh?"  Throughout the Old Testament, the Lord constantly reminds Israel that it the Lord is the one who brought them out of Egypt and delivered them from slavery.  One of numerous examples of this can be found in 2 Kings 17:7.  I think perhaps this is what (as well as the Holy Spirit) led me to begin pondering this.

I haven't always been "saved," "redeemed," "forgiven," or whatever you want to call it.  There was a time when I was enslaved to sin.  A time when I was in bondage and living under Pharaoh, king of Egypt.  And I have come to realize that in order to live a life of devotion to God I cannot forget that the Lord has delivered me from this.  How easily, like the nation of Israel, do I slip back into idolatry.  I forget that I have been delivered.  That I no longer have to live as a slave.  I am free.

So I am trying to recall what it was that I was delivered from.  There can be many vague or general answers, but what was it that really enslaved me.  That kept me trapped.  If I look at my life now, some of the idols that I think put chains around my heart are so cleverly disguised.  I find such a temporary hope in the "promise" of relationships.  I am so quick to think that someone could be "the one" that I put an exaggerated amount of heart energy into thinking about it and longing for it to be true.  I try to convince myself that it's healthy and with pure motives but when it comes down to it, it's an idol.

But it is time to put away my childish crushes.  It is time to act like a man and think like a man and not a man in the way that the world sees it.  I need to be a mature man of God.  I don't want to live my life with a heart on fast-forward.  Nor do I want to be someone who looks to the past with regret.  I want to live my life today.

I have ruined some great potential friendships by thinking only about their potential to be relationships.  While it is possible that a friendship can be the spark that ignites a relationship, I need to give that time.  I need to learn to get to know someone from their mouth, not from the words they type in their profile or the pictures they post.  Love is, first of all, patient.  With the technology we live with, it can be easy to think that we know all there is to know about someone before we even meet them.  Facebook can tell us everything we'd like to know, but then where is the place for conversation?  For dialogue between people?  I want to get to know someone by doing more than reading about him or her or looking and his or her pictures.

So I am trying to remember the Lord who brought me out of Egypt.  I am trying to remember the life before so that I can appreciate life now.  For I have been redeemed.  I have been saved.  And yes, I have been forgiven.  If I forget my enslavement I fall quickly into entitlement and that places me above others.  I am not above others, not anyone.  I once lived in chains, but now have free reign as a friend of the forever King.  How can I claim anything different?  My freedom does not permit me to enslave others.  It demands that I show others the Way that I have found.

Before the sky was cloudy

I used to be that one.  The child in the backseat struggling to stay awake late at night as our family returned from a night at a family friend's house.  My parents spoke a language that was beyond me and would occasionally pause to see if we were still conscious.  I couldn't make out much of what they were saying because my youth had not yet been fully clouded.  Still, when we arrived home I would try to remember the ride home, with little hope.  The majority of the 30-minute drive was spent in dreams I'll never remember, though the time was so short that I just felt that I closed my eyes for a couple seconds.  I couldn't have slept the entire drive home.  But how were we back so soon?  I'm awake now.  I still have something left in me.  Why go to sleep?  But they insisted and so I did.

Later it would become a little more relaxed.  If I wished to stay awake, it was my own discretion.  Nothing productive ever really seemed to happen then.  Maybe I would see what was on TV but late night wasn't made for a youngster.  All the people on the screen spoke the same language my parents spoke and the good channels had since become uninteresting.  Some of this just put clouds in my sky of sunshine.  Other times I would read only to wake up a few hours later with my bed lamp still on and only having read a few pages at most.  Or some mornings I would wake up with no recollection of having turned off the lamp.

I have few memories of how I spent those nights while we were still at the party.  What words were exchanged?  How did I enjoy myself?  Was it really fun?  Or if I was allowed to use my time with other matters, what would I have done?  I guess that's just a part of childhood: you either get left at home and are cared for by a babysitter or an older sibling or you're dragged to events that you're parents have been invited to and encouraged to have fun but stay out of sight until it's time to leave.  What did happen on those nights?

Though it is tempting to state that life was much simpler in the "good old days," it is not wise to think this way.  I am no longer the child hoping to stay awake, thinking if I can stay awake for the rest of the ride home, perhaps I will have a few more wakeful hours of fun.  I am now the man driving alongside that child as he stares blankly into the faraway galaxies of life not yet clouded.  I'm the man who speaks in a language no longer familiar to the child determined to get even just a few more minutes of consciousness before sleep steals him away.  Now, I am the man who thinks, "It would be nice to go to sleep now, but my mind has ideas that I'll forget if I do and my hands still have a few chores to do."

Some say adolescence now stretches until nearly the thirties and in some cases that's true.  But the clouds also come quickly and without warning.  You go off to do something or "discover yourself" and wind up wondering when the storm arrived.  Just a few years ago, you could see the sun shining and even feel its warmth but now it's dark.  So you draw your own sun and hope it will shine but nothing is like it was.  The warmth isn't natural, the brightness seems forced.  Still, you must remember, don't reminisce in those days longing to return, because you'll never be able to do so.  It's a waste of time, thinking on hopes that can never be realized.  You're an adult now, there's no going back.

"Life's like an hourglass glued to a table"

I woke up with the feeling that I wanted to fast-forward and rewind.  I wanted to be places where I'm not.  Why can't I just be content with the life that I'm in?  Now seeing some of the music that's been new this week shows me some of this back and forward feeling.  The Nineties appear to be back and the future is here too.  Some artists that were bigger in the Nineties have come back with another try, some after trying their own thing musically, others after what seemed like a musical gap.  Then there are those artists that have become popular lately though they somehow seem to be the independent type.  That can be pretty exciting.

But I'm not sure why I'm telling you this.  Why am I hoping in this?  I actually hope that I am not hoping in this.  Where is the hope in this world?  It's evaporating.  That's where it is.  It won't last.

So where do I stand?  If the things I observe with my five senses are fleeting where do I turn?  What do I use to observe what will last?  I can relate to the thorn in the flesh.  It's as if there are arrows in my head, sometimes leaking hope and truth and other times penetrating deep into destruction.  The blood of my nothing seeps into dark moments of life and I wonder where to go from it.  I cannot run from a thorn in my flesh.  I cannot escape from a broken bone in my body.

Perhaps this seems much darker than it is but sometimes it may be darker still.  What happens here in life while I'm living.  I stay inside as the sun is shining.  My skin grows pale and my thoughts make me weak.  Who then, will I spend time with?  My life is leaking and no one seems to notice but me.  But I feel so many notice in the anxiety of everyone watching.  Are they speaking behind my back in front of me?  The thoughts I think they're thinking cause me to conspire against myself.  It's something that we do.  Those with broken minds.  But the glue just isn't sticking.  Something must be done to heal this pain inside.

Don't tell me clichés.  I know them and they're not helping.  Don't fake your care.  I can see through it like a child.  And don't give me obligatory "love."  There is something about being here.  Something about being near.  Something where my hand is held and no one can really know what they're doing.  Something about the truth in authenticity.

It may seem as though I am depressed but do not stress.  Don't despair for then I have done the opposite of my purpose, though it is not just positivity.  I believe it is being true in love.  Being authentic and pointing to the One from above.

"and you can't jump the tracks, we're like cars on a cable"

Looking for an Update? Look somewhere else

Perhaps now is as good a time as any.  Or maybe the best time.  The time when these thoughts are still near fresh on the frontal lobe of my mind.

I wonder, if I received news that my brain was deteriorating or my life would soon be fading, would it have meant anything?  So often I get stuck living with a hope for another day.  I think maybe I'll do better things when I have increased my knowledge.  Or perhaps my life will feel more meaningful when I am surrounded by friends and family.  But what about this life I live between walls?  Has it any meaning?  Has there been a purpose to it?  Has it even had an impact on what's outside?

I feel like a hammer gathering dust in a shed.  My handle shines new but feels worn instead.  Rust is the cover of my entire head.  The rest of me covered in a rarely disturbed red.  I want to be used but I just sit on the shelf.  I sit inside and hope for something to push me.  How can I be pushed further if I'm standing against a solid wall?

It's like I've lost connection or perhaps the desire for it.  But I know that I deeply desire it.  What's happening inside me?  Sometimes this just makes the interactions more difficult.  I'm not sure who I've become.  I'm lazier than when I would sleep away the days.  I want something more but know that I have it all.  Is it that I want outside my lot?  I look around and see what I have and what I don't need.  What's happened to the one who ran freely outside?  Am I dreaming the wrong dreams?  Am I just living for me?

Some days I feel desperate for something outside of me but I don't seek it.  So can that be true desperation?  Am I gasping for air?  I want someone here.  Without it, life gets boring.  But how selfish can I be that I let myself slip into boredom while the world hungers without end?  So I feel guilty and don't have a cure.  Maybe because I'm looking to myself for it.  Part of me believes a part of the cure can be to help others find theirs but I know that can't be all of it.  Thinking that that is my only antidote will just start me working again.  Working to achieve that which is unachievable by my own ability.

So I just want to sit under Your tree.  The Tree that is You.  I want to stay with You but I want so bad to be moving.  To be living.  To experience what life seems to be.  Is it because I'm looking through Your branches?  Because I'm looking to see the lives You've given others?  Or perhaps part of it is that with these windows of technology people only allow me to see of them what they would like.  So I imagine their lives are perfect, or something so nice, when really they're struggling just like me.

Could You maybe show me how lives can be boring?  Or how to make this exciting?  I want to explore what You've given me here.  I want to use what You've given to the full extent.  I feel that I'm just wasting it.  I don't want to waste it.  Please show me what to do with this life.  Still, I know You're not a pop machine, so Your will be done.  None of this is my choice or I would be dead and gone.  I would like to know what my next steps are.  Where I should go.  What I should do.  And I know You'll answer my questions, but who am I to ask You?

Still I can't help but feel You're working.  Even here.  Even now.

Connection Without Cables

The Internet has turned us all into sponges.  We'll soak up all the information that we want.  We're free to keep searching and discovering the things that please us.  But what of the things that we fear?  What of that which we disagree with?  What of the new?  There is so much new but it is also so easy to limit ourselves to what we like.

Some days the world would be better without it.  Some days I just want to go back to connection without cables.  What happened to that?  I don't mean wireless Internet or mobile phones.  I mean touching hands and grasping fingertips.  What happened to the days where the only way to get to know someone was to be among that person?  Now we can learn so much about a person just by following their digital trail.  But how much do we really know?  In this world of self-disclosure we can choose what the world sees of us.

I don't want to be locked inside my computer.  I don't want to be tangled in wires and cables.  And the irony is that I write this on a public journal for all to see.  But I do not mind.  I want to be found.  Found doing something that matters.  Found dancing among the storm that surrounds me.  I won't ignore the rain nor pretend it's not there.  I'll just teach it how to dance.  I'll show the world romance.  It's not found in pushing buttons.  It's not found in hearing voices.  It's found when the soul rejoices.

I want love to reign supreme.  To see it flow far from this stream.  To feel someone help me, I'm about to scream.  I want a surprise.  I want a dream.

But I don't want it on this screen.  I don't want to hide this scene.

Still, somehow I'm entangled within an invisible seam.  I'm the product of things I've seen.  I'm a product of the generation of green screen.  The world says no one will believe the things I have seen unless I give proof and explain what I mean.

But I don't need proof.  Am I not the one living this life?  There is something between my ears and I believe it is working.  This life isn't mine though I live it.  I don't often shake hands but I shiver.  I live inside and I quiver.  The world outside is intangibly mine.  It's as if it whirls 'round and I can't make a sound.  I keep my feet on the ground and am inevitably found as a spot on a sheet on a hospital bed.

So if you cannot read the thoughts in my head and if you've no choice but to hear them, I hope you'll heed well these words that I tell for I have nothing left but to say them.  If life be a race, then I'm running with scissors.  I can't tell where I'm going and too often I've missed her.  So now live upside-down.

Sincerely,
     Mister

The Carousel Was Always Spinning

"I still love you," You say to me time and again.  But so often I don't feel it, or I just look right passed it.  What am I thinking?  What compels me to run so quick to something I've barely tasted when I know the taste of what I already have inside?  Is it the excitement of the unknown?  Maybe sometimes.  And sometimes it seems to be the selfish desire for immediate gratification.

I enjoy times that I have with friends and in my life but the taste of something else comes so quick.  Something that is not my lot.  At least not yet.  Sometimes it's just my impatience.  I want so much to be with someone else.  Even if it's not a romantic relationship, I want to feel something there.  To feel someone there.  It appears that sometimes that desire is greater than my desire to be seen holy and blameless to You and that cannot be.  That is not as it should be.

I must first seek the Kingdom and You will work in me.  You will allow me satisfaction.  It will mean waiting.  It will mean being patient when I think I want something that is outside my lot.  I must be content with the lot that You have given me.  To look beyond my life and covet other's situations is to live in sin.  I do not wish to live in sin.  You have me right where I am for a reason.  I can look from my side of the fence but must not let it spark a covetous desire.

I so often come to a place in my life where I know that I must trust that Your timing is perfect but my flesh is so quick to say, "but when?"  I know You'll place someone in my life if that is Your will but I must live now.  I must learn to live today.  Perhaps it may not even be Your will for me to share this life with one person.  They are difficult words to admit but how else may I live?  This inside life, on top of cushions and in front of screens is doing nothing to seek the Kingdom.  Whose kingdom am I seeking inside these walls?  It appears to be no one's but my own.

So forgive me for living this selfish life of doing nothing but waiting.  It is somewhat clear why You haven't showed me yet.  My eyes might as well be closed most days the way that I am living my life.  I wait for something to happen and these in between moments are the worst.  I don't do anything.  The air outside could be made of love but I would have little proof.  These walls are seldom escaped and I have made them my prison.  Even deeper is the cell in my head.

But my lot is what You have given me.  How will I use it?  What are my next steps?  Please show me where to go.  I don't want to keep falling for these tricks of those outside.  I want to be content in that which You have given me.  And I want to learn to live in the in between time.  To seek the Kingdom that is all around me.  The Kingdom that is living and breathing the world and heavens over.  I want to feel value.  You're here.  I trust You.  Do big things.  Let me in on the world Your changing.  The change does not start today but maybe tonight is when I really join in.  When I jump on your carousel already spinning.  For too long I have been just laying on the bench, sometimes watching and other times with my eyes closed.  Please pull me on and take me spinning with You.  I want a life that is not stagnant.  A life that doesn't pass me by.  A life that is worth living.  I want to put to death this life of boredom and wake up a life of freedom and reality.  A life of joy.  A life that rejoices in sorrow.  A life that doesn't put on a happy face but wears authenticity.  Please take me with You.

This house doesn't burn down slowly

I'm going to write a little on here even if I don't have much to write about.  I'm leaving for a month tomorrow, away from the technological word for a bit, but it will be a great thing.  I feel like I've had some things to write about in the last few weeks but apparently the longer you wait for them, the more they evaporate.  So I don't really have many words today.  I have had some good times lately though.

I was a little concerned earlier this year about how my summer would pan out.  With nothing to do, I could easily fall deeper into the untrue thoughts I think and spend days on end without even leaving my apartment.  Instead though, it's only the middle the June and I feel like I've already had quite a full summer.  I got a new car.  My brother and his girlfriend came to visit me.  I got to visit family in Iowa and Minnesota.  I've enjoyed some ultimate with some people at church.  (I think I may try and find some people to do that more consistently with!)  With the help of some friends I've taken some courageous steps.

It's kind of crazy how much I've been able to do in these last few weeks.  I'm really quite tired right now but I have to pack because I leave tomorrow.  As usually happens when I wait to post, this isn't much of an update, or may have been a little waste of your time read, but while I'm away you're welcome to check out some older entries on my other Blog.  I plan to catch up on that when I get back.  As for now, I will go create one more post for it.

The Guilt of the Innocent

Why is it that those who need not fear the words spoken so often do and those who need to hear the words are present in body but not in heart?  Is that how the former become that way, by listening too much?

I think the guilt of the innocent is a bit of a tragic thing.  Those with so much potential are scared to move forward because they are unsure of how people will react or what unexpected thing could come as a result of their actions.  I believe that professionals are people who aren't afraid to make mistakes and sadly oftentimes I am still an amateur.

And though death is not a living thing, sometimes it feels as such.  When things are far beyond my control and anxiety gets the best of me, it feels as though death beats my heart considerably faster than normal.  It feels like death and separation, which is a version of death itself, grow inside me.  They grow to make an absence, an emptiness, and they leave me crippled and stationary where I am.  I can tell myself that it won't last, that nothing here does, but words within seem just short of hopeless.

In times of extreme anxiety it is difficult to come up with a complete and positive thought.  Usually, the only complete thoughts are ones of brokenness and lies.  Other than that, I may try to convince myself with truths I know, but it seldom works.  Anxiety means my mind runs and when my mind runs so do the incomplete sentences in my mind.  Things like "I know I can-", "I can-", "I can't-", "What am I-",  "I want to k-...", and "No, stop-".

So if you've reached this line, don't meet it with excessive concern.  I'm alright.  A life in shambles means I'm still living right?  It means I haven't receded into the chasm of nothing.  I don't need your sympathy, my heart is still beating.  Kind words aren't necessary.  From life, I am not retreating.  Perhaps just holding each other would be nice, though I know it's not something I should be (or will be) needing.

Don't overread me.  Perhaps it's just the guilt of the innocent inside me.

Satisfaction rather than emotional Attraction

April comes and with it showers. It is my hope that the showers will wash me over and perhaps even my mind will be clean of thoughts about you. I don't know how to live this life lately when I think about you so often. I'm hoping the showers will perform their given function, to water seeds of flowers. Weeds sprout up too but I'm hoping to pluck them from the root in order that they may be gone forever.

For those of you with a paperback copy of The Hunger Games nearby or enough dedication, my feelings may be described by paragraph 2 on page 112. This of course with a couple minor changes, one of name and another of sex (female rather than male). How is that for a "nerd" moment?

I can't tell you exactly how hard it is not to just send a quick text message of missing or to try and make public the feelings I spoke directly to you the other night. It's as if my heart thinks sharing with the rest of the world what I shared with you will somehow convince you that we can work it out. Forget the miles, forget the tasks at hand, the busyness of your agenda, and just allow my heart and yours to lock arms for a moment. What harm is there in that? Though, if it is not sincere I really think I would rather be here. Tricking my heart for a brief moment of satisfaction is not joy, it's deception.

Now it's time to seek satisfaction in not seeking anything but the only One that matters. Life is difficult. Love is too. Singleness is hard but waiting is worth it. Trust. Trust. Trust. Where else can I go? Escapism will only dig wider and deeper holes in this chest of mine. I must move forward and look upward. Looking back and too far ahead will only make this harder.

It's time to move on. You're out of sight but my mind's eye sees you. It's time to close that eye that seems to be rooted so deeply in my heart. A time off from emotional vision may do me good. Moving upstream may be difficult but if that is where the destination lies, it is worth the effort.

On inspiration and motivation

Why does inspiration come when the dream world is calling from an ever closer distance? There are so many moments that I feel could be used more effectively had I the inspiration, or perhaps the motivation, at those times. But I often don't. It's often as my eyes are lifting their lids like dumbbells on the final rep of the last set. Oh well..Life goes on..

I'm excited of what comes next but my mind is quickly fading into a state where words aren't from a complete brain. Words are quickly becoming those only dictated from the cerebellum rather than both the cerebellum and the cerebrum. So I'll leave the post here. Perhaps tomorrow, or sometime soon, both will work together more congruently and the inspiration and motivation will do the same. Until then, enjoy your cruise but don't get stuck in the web.

An Olive Branch

Another one on here before I return to the other. Perhaps this time it will be the feeling I meant to be for yesterday. When I have something later in the day I find myself waiting. Waiting it out. Just waiting. I think it's better when I make plans for the empty days because if I don't, I find myself not doing anything. And while I think it's nice to have a day off, I would much rather have a day with real plans.

My heart sometimes sinks into wonder...and I can't figure out where to go. I think for Lent rather than give something up I'll resolve to spend at least 5 intentional and uninterrupted minutes outside everyday. Because when I'm inside all day, this "cabin" seems to almost give me a fever. I sit at home and wallow in songs of my situation. My lungs breathe the recycled air that circulates my box. And I wonder...why doesn't she think of me as often as I think of her? and similar thoughts. I let my mind wander and still it can only go as far as these walls that hold me in. Though, I realize that with present technologies (like this Blog) I am able to let some escape. My hope though, is that they would bring something back in return, some sort of olive branch or sign of life. I hope that my heart isn't beating in vain. I hope that I'm going somewhere.

But as for right now you probably just see this as a public journal. Some place where I ramble. And in a very true way, it is that, but I hope for it to be more. A man can hope can't he? If the answer is no, please don't tell me because I must have something. Something to keep me going. So whenever you read this, whoever you may be, let me know you're there somehow. Let me know you're still reading, you still value my sharing. For if I do not know, perhaps it's time I just crawl back into my journal that is seen only by my eyes and heard by much fewer. If you have found me by coincidence, you too can let me know. Just an olive branch. That's enough for me right now.

A Well-rooted Heart

and I feel comfortable enough in my own skin today. Comfortable enough that I didn't do much but I don't feel lazily unproductive. Somehow I have feelings that I believe have roots in my heart. I don't want to tell her yet and I want to tell her. I want to say it in person though I've said it a couple times before. Once by text and once by written word. The times have made the media necessary. But I believe this time it must be in person. This time it seems different..Doesn't it always? My mind makes me think, "Won't she wonder why she has to keep explaining her lack of similar feelings to me?" But if that's the case then why do these words seem so easy? Why are we so comfortable with each other? I know I feel it. Does she see friendship and nothing more? Why though, would she want to come all the way out here? Sure, she likes it here, likes the location, but is that even fair? I don't want her to feel she's not welcome but if she's not interested why is she so interested?

Lately life feels good and often times words come easy. The roots of my heart seem to stretch, longing to become a part of someone else. I will give what I have because You first gave it to me. You gave it to me to give and so my life is not mine to live. Not alone anyway. After this life I feel like comes the return to perfect and authentic companionship with the One who made us. In this life there's no way to get back to the garden. No way to live life exactly how it was. Our souls long to be fulfilled and we try so much to do it ourselves. Nothing works. All of our effort is in vain. But we can cling to the hope of life after life.

Verbal Sketch

It's as if I've been locked in here for days. And the same goes for these words. I've wanted to share but had not anyone to share them with. My mind has been a trampoline of ideas bouncing around and no one will come inside. No one will enter if I don't give them the key.

So I'll write a verbal sketch and hope to give you at least part of the picture. Perhaps an idea of the inner-workings.

Have you heard the words "patience" and "longing" come from between my teeth? If you lived on my pages or in my nerve endings, they would be familiar words to you. But why? Why can't they be replaced with "contentment" and "joy"?

I have the greatest love and still I long to be loved. The Maker of the multiverse (or whatever this is where we live) never lets go of me, still I long to be held. I want a tangible love though His love can be felt in the smallest of feelings. My heart breaks and I long to be made whole, though I know He is working. I have nothing to do and the world is waiting on me. And I'm just waiting for something to happen. I'm waiting for this life to make sense.

I feel like my days are waisted inside the prison of my mind and no one can help me escape. No one but myself. If I don't leave, how can I expect to get to know others for who they are? I have been around myself too long. Still, I must learn to be content with being around only me. How can I be comfortable with another if I cannot be comfortable with myself?

The problem is, I think, I am too comfortable around myself. I don't have to be around anyone else. Then, I long to be around others and it is as though I have forgotten how that works. Anxiety shakes from the inside and nothing moves on the outside. I want to be with someone else and when I am, I just can't.

My life spins in spirals but I can't tell if I'm going up or down. Who will save this one? Most of the time the tornado is just my life flushing away. Some days, or brief moments, though I feel strong winds of positive emotion. And I know I cannot let emotions control my life or my feelings. When how I feel is controlled by when I feel then I cannot trust this life to be real. Something along those lines.

Perhaps my life is a picture made of dots. Some to be connected to each other. Some to be seen from afar in order to understand more fully the complete picture. And some just need to be left alone. "Don't edit me," my mind says, "credit me." "Don't read and run; read and tell me what you've done."

I want to know that I matter though I know I do matter. I want to know that I'm more than some matter, floating around outside Saturn. I know that I'm cherished, I'm loved, I'm worth something, but I cannot always feel it. Is it that I need to feel it from this earth? Is it that I'm looking for acceptance among the broken? Am I looking to be put back together by one whose pieces are as tattered as my own? How is it that the greatest love doesn't seem enough and yet mere acceptance from another almost seems to keep my heart beating?

If you understand what I'm saying or have words to add to connect the dots which need connecting, please tell me. Please show me how words from a sponge fall onto ears that can read. Thank you.