כִּשָׁלוֹן

Plug it in, crank it up…set the sleep timer for 30 min but you know it’s gonna get reset more than once. A distorted Guitar starts to build from the static, as It builds it seems to direct you to take a deep breath, it calms…anticipates. The hammer drops, and the band erupts in face melting madness, It’s about here that you lose the reality that you’re the only one listening. And a world forms from the melodies that sooths you… The vocalist starts painting a story but soon words become inept to describe the next part but that’s ok, everyone understands a simple scream. The song connects, so personal that you feel like its you screaming, its expressing what brought you to this song. You crave to escape but in moment of escape seams to also desire confrontation. This will do for both, maybe not the first time around, but replay and replay as you fade to sleep and it gets better.

It’s the end of the line shared by so many things: longings, frustrations, apathies, PISSED OFF, being hurt, being crushed, being…jaded, failure. Not allowed to be allowed (yet or at all) Trying only to be what you can be today, yet being the same as you can be for the future. Possible?...probable? …Grrr! Taking all the wrong boxes, the ones I think are broken, pouring the contents out in a moment of frustration and not stopping until your exhausted or out of boxes. Collapse to the floor and begin putting things all back where they came from.

Ezri's first blog...

 PPPPPPPPOPOOPPPPODDPODPODOPDOPDPOPODOPODO MC,XM,   VB    DHYFJVGLYGLYILUYUY  CCCIXIXXIJXZJXJUCXHUCXHUIXCHCXHUCXHUICUHICUIHUIHCUIH

M,            

MMM  M M M MN       N  L,,LL;,HL;HKLKHLHKLFGKLHGFXEED RSSDLKHGKLKBFGKKGKGKKKJJJJJJJJJJJDYSGTGGDGDCGDGGDGJKKFJKJFJNDFNDFVJ

                                         

The mondays

Security or monotony?  I say like a broken record that I DO NOT want the 9-5 lifestyle. Even though there is a sense of security that accompanies it. Yes, stability would be ok. Yes, there are many awesome things that can come from it. but it still seams like selling your soul if you ask me honestly. I'm not saying for everyone, in fact I've given advice to a number of people along the lines of a "normal-ish" life,  and it served them. But they can keep it.
Honestly I'm stir crazy, wallowing in pointlessness it seams. I love excitement, near death, adrenaline, reckless behavior. I prefer it to be positive, meaning, "high on life" Taking risks that most would never move off of the couch to put into motion no matter how many times they've considered it. I like things like flying and mountaineering, I enjoy cheating death. the rush that makes you actually stop and think "holy crap I could never have tasted THIS moment in life if that just played out differently." I wish you could see the look on my face when something I just experienced brings thoughts of frailty and mortality. My face is alive. I beam. Looking at the face of death truly helps you taste life. You can actually feel the adrenal gland in your chest secrete, THOSE are the times I live for!!! I love it. You can  say I'm addicted and you'd probably be right. But do you want to know what happens to someone like me who traps himself in monotony... I feel like lately I've missed out on so much life, I haven't had my breath taken away. I haven't touched the abstract. I don't have enough risk, I don't have enough excitement. I need the recklessness that brakes depression. to feel my own pulse without having to touch an artery. and when I can't... when I haven't for a while. My imagination searches destructive ways to counterfeit the thrill... today I contemplated throwing a rock through somebody's window just to be stupid. I shook that thought off and soon I was thinking of tagging. I don't enjoy the counterfeit. It has no depth. Yet as stupid as it always seams. I contemplate it every time I taste the mundane. for me there is a claustrophobia that accompanies normal. I've found recently that I'm terrible company to myself. If I'm a loner, I'm as good as extinct. I don't like the solitude. It's necessary at times... but not for seasons really. I'm for people. for person. relevance and purpose... even when its hard, its ok, because its real. It has substance. it has risk. and that means its worth it.

just sweeping the floors

Its late night, just doing my routine, cleaning under the chairs, picking popcorn off the floor. I start mopping down the isles of chairs working my way down the ramp to the stage. It was a beautiful night; full house, people were engaged with the actors as they ran their story. The actors were great, they worked together so well. complimented each other. Played right into one another. i couldn't imagine that play with a single person being different. I laugh to myself as I remember this line and that line, all along flopping my mop from side to side down the isle. Well, time to change the water again. On my way back with fresh water i say goodnight to the last staff members leaving for the night. We look at each other, do the nod, smile and they say "great night see you next week." "yeah it was." I smile back and say goodnight locking the door behind them and head back to finnish the floors. Its usually like this, I close the night out alone. I get to see what most don't, the theater has a life after a show. It's like the energy of the audience is still there. So as I often do when I'm alone after a night like this before the energy leaves. I adjust the house lights back down, stage spots back up and take the stage. I've done this for years. And like usual as the minutes start to roll on I forget how ridiculous I would seam if someone were to see me. I seam to get swallowed into my own imagination. It's not the play that was just seen. In fact its not a play that has ever been seen, by anyone. I play my part; the lead part in fact :) And as I move about the stage, interacting through the scenes, its as if others were there with me on stage. if you were to walk in the room and see me there on stage, entranced in my parts to play it would seem as if your eyes lied, saying that I was the only one in the room. The parts have such a vivvid reality. Scenes progress, not a one ever written down or planned out, but the story progresses so naturally it's as if we've all played our parts every night for years now. The story crescendos, to the finally musical number. and people shift to the edges of their chairs not wanting to miss a note of the song or a step of the dance. The supporters fade from the backdrop and soon its just me and my leading lady. This happens to be my favorite part. The choreography is so smooth that it steals the breath from the tip of your tongue. Your eyes seam to swell as a smirk shows through your face. "Nailed it!" but its also the part I hate, because as sudden as the breath leaves. The apex is reached and everyone relaxes as breathing returns. But not me, No...I'm the only one in the room holding my breath, like i do every time, because although its never worked before, it seams logical to me that my breath will move time from this moment. But as breathing becomes necessary, I realize again that it hasn't worked. And as the final dance draws closed my own foot steps seam louder and louder, Every step stands out more than the last until their sound eventually bring me back. Realizing again that I'm standing on the stage alone. in a room that is set so beautifully, but I'm the only one there to take notice. As reality swoons itself back, my eyes moves across the seats from stage left to stage right where my bucket is waiting for me to finish the mopping.
As I leave the theater, locking the door behind me, I begin my walk home. I pass person after person that is none the wiser of the epic story that just played on an empty stage. Such a story would pack a theater for a generations, That stage plays it more than any other, yet I'm the only one who has ever scene it. I'm the only one who knows its there. Playing every night of the week. The exclusiveness of it seams to add so much depth, yet as I think of how true that is my eyes fall, thinking that I'll always be the only one who ever catches the curtain. Never getting to share it.

Things to keep myself occupied when I'm 80

#1     brake in all the new care nurses; hit the test button on the heart monitor and fake a heart attack. (note: if your experienced at faking heart attacks know when to quit, typically BEFORE they defibrillate you...unless you like that sort of thing)

#2      you started life in a diaper, if you have to finish in one too, have some fun. hold half until just after your changed....(just like you did the first time around.)

#3     bed pan sledding behind a motorized wheelchair!...(pants are optional, your on a bed pan)

#4     musical prescriptions. (could be fun)

#5      Back talk to anyone waring a suit...just cause they are...and when they say "EXCUSE ME!!" I just fake like I cant hear ..."WHAT??" 


#6      play "Alzheimer's" at the mall


#7      Order a happy meal ...(argue if they wont give you the toy)

#8      When your old you must keep in shape...however being old, you tire quickly. So exercise using a motorized wheelchair and a treadmill.

#9      Group activities are healthy, be creative bingo only goes so far. suggestion: Throw all of our dentures into a kiddy pool on a table...and "bob" for them like apples. (extra points for those not afraid to mix-match)

#10    Learn how to knit; its what old people do

#11    Give up knitting...your old now, you don't have to care anymore

#12    grow and dye a horizontal mohawk, from ear to ear but only around the back. (Dying is optional, but don't do blue, your old and its a Clech'e)

#13   When the kids bring the grandkids to visit, talk rationally, but do things with your hands that scream senile...next time they visit...switch

#14   shadow puppets on your next X-Ray

#15   Call hospital gowns "capes" emphatically... when they tell you differently... run backwards and prove them wrong.

#16   You and a friend (whose name I cant remember) can use stolen stethoscopes like walkie-talkies

#17   Pick one care nurse (the squeamish one) and describe (in explicit detail) anything your body does, followed every time by the question "is that normal?"

#18     Draw stick figure scenes on your medical charts...compile them and publish a children's book.


#19     keep the classics alive...Blare screamo music so everyone knows what music used to be like

#20     Get together with a group of friends and play marbles with your gull-stones...(the biggest grower has a distinct advantage, play to win ;)


*feel free to add others....I do

Insomnia

Intensity! Breathlessness, loss without death, yet it seams just like that. Like a friend that passes away, you are left with such a hole, an overwhelming sense that "this isn't what was supposed to happen". its so hard to wrap yourself around. you have a sense of peace, that things are ok. Pain grips you like an iron clad hand that reaches inside you and clutches a handful of your chest. You cry out without a word, yet you can hear it echo cant you?! There was a particular day this year that I remember the same feeling, in the scheme of life it was supposed to be a monumental day, a celebration of accomplishment. It was one of the hollowest days of my life. I had pain that wasn't kosher to express. Slap on a smile shake a few hands. yet to me that day was marked/seared into my timeline by overwhelming pain. Felt allot like death to me...I'm shaken awake by that feeling again. not for myself, for friends. Don't actually know all the details of what is happening. but I cant shake it. I have the same expanse of pain and peace inside my chest. All I want to do is rush in and embrace them, and not let go until the tears dry, tell them I love them. they will nod their head and say "I know" but they don't fully comprehend that I really do, regardless of what they've done. I want the understanding to be there but let it go because there is no point of actual comprehension. My prayers are deep, and silent. formless.

...life looks different in certain moments.

יָתוֹם

Christians often use the phrase "the Lord gave me a verse" in reality he gave us an entire book FULL of them, and he gave them years ago by the way. What the colloquialism means, however, is this: "as I read the bible, a particular part spoke directly into my life in the here and now in a specific and unique way." aka..."THIS is the exact thing I needed!" A verse that spoke into my life in just such a unique way came up in a message today, its the first time I've actually ever heard this verse mentioned in anybody's speech. The verse is Psalms 68:6 "the Lord sets the lonely in families" Its a good verse. and unfortunately its exactly what connected the speakers topic to MY life.

    For a LARGE portion of my life, I have had a grand extended family, that has no actual genetic connection to my self, yet they are as much if not easily more a part of my life than blood has been. There are quit a few people that when i talk about them to someone I have to add the phrase "they half raised me." Because its true, in allot of ways they truly did. I am forever grateful to all of them, they have invested into who I am, some at real expense. They are a group of individuals that I have a great deal of admiration and respect for, and it honors me that they poured into me what they did. I have MANY siblings, one grandfather, many fathers and even more mothers(!) And that is the pleasant, all so clear part of my life. The next part comes in the form of fog to me, I honestly don't remember. I cant recall allot from before I made a choice,. becoming a christian when I was 18. My memories from before then are shadows of my others. Like a glimpse of a movie that I saw years ago, and suddenly recall for some odd reason.

So thats the setting... here is the part that I'm gonna have a hard time writing... The sermon wasn't about ME as a father someday, what the bible has to say about what kind of father I'm to be. It was more about the riff that exists in allot of our lives due to our parents. If you know me you know that I am not an advocate of blaming your parents for your problems. I just think its a superficial childish way to avoid your own responsibility in life. I don't remember my parents very much, not cause I've tried to forget them or anything, I just don't really remember them much. 

In my life now, as an adult, I love my parents, but I'm not around. We don't interact really. we keep up every now and then. and to be fair, my life looks like that with many people that i care for deeply. In allot of ways thats just how it is. And so I want to reiterate something before saying what I'm going to say. I love my parents. they were good parents. they love each other and they love God. with that said... the title for this post is: יָתוֹם it's a hebrew word which means "Orphan" I must say, I did NOT expect this from this series at church. but the question was "what is the riff that this issue has left in your life." And in all reality, "orphan" is kinda how life seams to me. there are allot of things that I respect about my parents. but at the same time, I'm looking at others as a modal of the type of parent I want to be, and the kind of household I want to lead someday. I want different than I had. This isn't a statement against my parents really, it's just the  truth. I want to be a different father than the one I had. and I love my dad. I want a mother that will be to our children different than I saw in mine. And we won't be perfect. I know my parents did      the best they thought to do. they made mistakes. And some day, my wife and I will make our fare share of mistakes as well. (and a few extra i'm sure just for good measure) there is allot about    this that I honestly am very insure of. Scott (the speaker) mentioned a book that I want to read, in which the author was dealing with some of the things from his past with his father. I want to read  it. I think its going to take some effort, some prayer, to even start making sense of what I even     think of my past. I rejected allot of what my parents stood for. Belief mostly, I wasn't a christian,   and didn't want to be one. So in allot of ways, me being raised to be "independent" was a           consequence of my own rebellion. But if I'm going down this road, than I'm going to have to be   able to say something that I would rather leave be. forgiven and forgotten. That my parents were absent. That Christ is my father, and grace my mother. I don't understand if this is a natural result of being an adult child. As I look around, I observe different in allot of other peoples lives. 

And I hope for different with my own kids. the harsh truth is, would I change it if I could?... no.... 

I would leave it the way it is. And thats honestly what I'm scared of bringing out. that I'm actually ok with what it is. I like my life, and even if I didn't, that wouldn't change what my life is. But from where it is, I don't look back, I face forwards. And my energy is there. I don't know if thats really right or wrong but it's honest. I cant even honestly describe what I'm really talking about. Its elusive to me too. Hence why prayer and meditation is necessary even for myself on this topic. and with that I leave my thoughts. with one more thing to say, Mom or dad, I don't think you read this, but if you are. I DO love you, and I'm in no way upset about my childhood, you made choices that thought best.

You weren't perfect, I know you have regrets. know that they are forgiven, honestly and truly, and I look forward not back. 

however its looking forward that may keep distance secure for the orphan hearted.

going to mass, people watching....and then...Milo

In the middle of downtown denver there is a beautiful old church. a Catholic church. Lead by the Arch Bishop himself. and blessed by the pope when he came in 1993 to denver. I don't put any stock as a christian in the hierarchy of the catholic church but it was intriguing none the less. Derek and I walked past it the other night and noticed that they did Mass, on wednesday nights at 7. So today we were working on a roof, and we were like..."hey, we should go to Mass tonight, I've never gone, it could be an experience" and thus started our night...off to Mass.

We came home from work, showered up, even dressed up (well as far as I normally dress up ;) and headed out for Mass. This particular church is down town only a few blocks from the capital. So we drove down and parked behind Paris on the Platte (sweet coffee house) it's a bit of a walk from there but its a good walk and I enjoy it so we decided to do that. crossed the river and hopped on the 16th street shuttle. We got on at the start of the line so there weren't many people there. But as the line got further down 16th street it filled up quickly. at almost the end of the line we were standing with strangers. the last load of people that we ended up standing with were four people my age-ish. as they walked in and stood on the other side of me I noticed the beautiful elude of Peanut butter!! turns out it was one of those pre-made sandwiches in a bag. They offered me one but I declined. This process led to a discussion over the proper pronunciation of Ramen noodles. Is it a long or short "a." the guy eating the peanut butter pronounced it all wrong was what we came up with. So any way, world problems solved we got off the shuttle and walked up the hill to the cathedral; but when we got there the church was all locked up. We checked the sign again and decided that we should double check the service times BEFORE we are at the church for Mass...Oh well another day maybe. So we pondered the plan for the evening for a moment as we wandered back towards the 16th street. "wanna go hear Rob Bell, He's speaking tonight at the Filmore"....NAH!!! (lol...not to keen on him so it probably would have just ended with me feeling contentious)
We kept wandering not really sure what we were actually gonna be doing with our evening. Mostly our time was spent getting coffee for me... and an available urinal for derek. I scored first, Starbucks...Mmmmmm. we had to walk to the Mcdonalds for the bathroom though. On our way there I was like "you may not be into this, but I'm really in a people watching mood" So derek went pee....and I found a bench in the middle of the street, sat down with my Peppermint mocha and enjoyed people.
Interesting people down town (I love it by the way) Rickshaw driver feverishly TXTing until she gets a passenger. A couple walking, holding hands. they were cool. they seamed familiar with each other, no like an early relationship would be, but at the same time they were both very happy, and almost seamed refreshed in each other. it was cool! Girl with pink hair, another girl, with a really cool fro. By this time derek is back from his "outing" and has found his way to where I parked. We notice a few people; the pimp...a 50 something black man, with hair like Albert Einstein if he'd just stuck his fingers in a light socket, and he's waring a shiny/sparkly gold suite, slacks and, oh yes, even matching wing tipped shoes. and He talks like a Mississippi man. We both wanted to talk with him. There's a cop a block away having an argument with a bystander, the bystander walks away (smart move) A group of people walks by, dressed up for dinner i assume...Whitney Goodnight!?!?!...nope but man she reminded me of her. (She carried herself the same way). Hmm, smiled and prayed for whit.
A number of other people stand out but This is a long enough story already and I'm not even at the good stuff yet. So the shuttle stops near our bench (which is great for people watching) on one such people puking from the shuttle, a rather large native guy steps off, trying his hardest to impress this girl, Whom he obviously just met they end up standing beside our bench, He's on the tail end of a mild inebriation and she I cant tell if she's totally creeped out by him or if she's intrigued (she's really ditzy and going back and forth between the two I think) He's talking about boxing, offering to teach her. yadda yadda. Any way they exchange a few words with Derek and I as we're sitting right beside them. She eventually leaves to meet up with her friends at a bar, and he tries his hardest to be allowed to walk her there, but is shot down. He then looks at me and goes "wow, I'd tap that, wouldn't you"....I was like "well, um, she was cute man yeah, but I'm more of a purest, I think its so much better one girl with one guy for good." The conversation moves around a little. and suddenly we find ourselves talking about Milo's (the random dude) mother, who died last year from breast cancer. You can see it in his face that it still is heavy on him (the fact that he's still slightly intoxicated I think was helping but ya know) After only talking about her for a few sentences you can see tears on Milo's face. We've only met this man only like 4 minutes at this point and he is just being pealed open in front of us. I started praying "lord, this isn't normal, This is heavy on him"
He kept talking about her, how much he misses her. How much he hurts. He's 22 and now looking after his young brothers. He shares with us that they are really little and don't know that mom is dead, He hasn't told them about death, He's been telling them "she's gone and she'll be back soon" by this time Milo is sitting between myself and derek on the bench crying as he shares how he's been trying marijuana mixed with crack cocaine trying to cope. He overdosed, stopping his heart and placing him in the hospital for a while. He takes a whole bottle of toquilla to his moms grave, pours a shot and sets it on her grave marker, and will stay there for 4-5 hours talking to her. At this point Derek and I have bairly said anything, a few probing questions but thats about it. Milo says things like "I would die, if I could only see her again for a minute" he said that a few times, and in a way that was very sincere, he'd thought it allot, and it was very real idea to him. I asked if I could share something with him, he said ok.
So told Milo that I knew for a fact that he understood love....REAL love. I told him I heard it in the way he talked about her, that he would die in her place. He'd been reading a Mormon bible, and he said that he was almost angry, asking God why he could take someone like her away from them. "Milo, if your mom died, so that you could understand Love, REAL love; the kind that changes your life, would you consider that a good thing then?"..."yes." Derek and I started going through a couple of verses with him. It was a little difficult to keep his attention, he liked talking about her! so for a while we would just go back and listening. We talked about death, Milo said "you only have one man, you gotta do something with it." We went and read Heb 9:27 "for it is appointed for a man to die once, and then face judgement" Milo got this! We asked what he thought that looked like? "well he's gonna look and make sure your a good person you know, that you did good things" We'd already been discussing how much life hurts, and different mistakes made in life. Derek showed him how we are disconnected from God because of sin, and sin is what makes life hurt so much. and how the only way to connect back to God is by paying the price that sin requires: death. At this point Milo was intent, he was focused. We talked again about his mom, how he wished he could die to bring her back. We talked a while about how God has that same desire for us. We read John 3:16 (ol-faithful) We talked about how belief means trust. and looking back at that judgement after we die. Milo can sit before God, Point at Jesus and say, I know that the price of admission into heaven is death... but... HE paid for mine"
Milo borrowed my phone to call his family, he was getting late. He asked if we could walk him to his bus. He was really digging into our conversation, you could see it on his face. but derek and I were both not sure how much was getting through the alcohol and the tears. As we got up derek was showing him about Eternal security, that no one can steal what belongs to God. Milo asked me where he could get a good bible. I'd been thinking earlier that I kinda wanted to give him mine (which I do and don't like doing, I loose allot of notes that way.) but when he asked, I reached into my bag and handed him mine. I have never seen anyone hold one so close. He clutched it to his chest and cried some more. "I'm gonna read this"....I'm gonna read it to my brothers"..."I'm gonna tell them that moms not coming back, that mom's dead."
On the way to the bus he asked if I could write my address in the cover. he wanted to write a journal of what he reads and send it to me. "I'm gonna read it and mail it back to you!" He pulled off a bracelet he had been waring and gave it to me "when I finnish, we'll trade back." We waited with him until his bus got there; gave him a hug and started back to the car. When the bus passed his face never left the bible as it drove passed us. Derek and I spent the rest of the walk to the car trying not to cry, it was overwhelming for sure. If you've read this far I ask you to pray for Milo, I think I've been crying the whole last hour writting this post. I think he's one of the people I'll always remember meeting.

Death and drive

"There’s a lot of dying for you and me to do. The kind that doesn’t stop your breathing or your heart…but it’s still dying. Funny how the bible insists on calling it that. It doesn’t say “adjust.” It doesn’t say “tweak you behavior.” It doesn’t say “modify your identity.” It doesn’t say “evolve your personhood.” It says DIE. And keep dying."


      Death: the total and permanent cessation of all the vital functions of an organism. 


Threads, themes, repetition... readings, conversations, thoughts, worries, subtleties, frying pans, PaNiCs... 

... themes... 

this one has been death...
We know it, most of us exist there in one way or another...

                              spiritual                

Emotional

Physical                                                                                                                                  Ours


                                        Theirs


             Bad

... Good

Its all pain, stench, longing and crying. It puts you at your end, it ties you in a ball on the floor in the corner of a room. It isolates

It deprives

to put it plainly, death kills you. 
I don't know why its following and penetrating... or maybe I do. It's not all the same thing though. Sometimes its the outcome of frustration. Sometimes a need of surrender. Those are good and bad. 
Some of it is a part of me thats dying. I'm not talking about a spiritual merit badge of dying to sin (if you follow my blog at all you know that I'm not that guy.)  I'm talking about the reality of reality.... the shit that follows life, like a black cloud looming over a long day. Every time you turn around you see it. sometimes it's distant, other times its such a sever closeness that your breath stops in the tops of your lungs and wont escape your throat. 
Not every day is so heavy, but some days its like part of you falls away just because of what has to be; or what is. Good or bad?!?!...? Doesn't really matter if its good or bad at this point, cause it still just is.
I suppose "theme" is so appropriate cause its not one thing. Not one area I can call to question. I have no direction to point a finger, actual or preverbal. 
Its work, its faith, its knowledge and belief. Its love its romance. Its purpose, its responsibility, Its waiting against wanting. Its patience against PaTiEnCe(?) Its love and trust for God, but only after we go a few rounds of "What the *^&*%" Its not wanting to be something, its wanting to be something. If i could only be something. Its a sermon that asks..."what voice are you listening too".... and an answer thats shame. Its heavy its real. It all HAS purpose....I just don't want all that purpose at once. 
my responses vary. The first...I want to go back...I want to swoop in and be the hero. The second. I want to wait for what I don't want to wait for. Loosen up, fall back, step away. ONLY observe and play no part (and does playing NO part mean that I have to completely play no part) ... This is for sure where I see a little of me falling away. I don't know if its waiting for what's right, or waiting for something to be right. or just waiting for something different all together. the second has been a plaguing question. The third reply was acted out by me running out of church today (after the sermon was over)  knowing I shouldn't linger for various reasons... all of those reasons had names, none of them have I ever met, all strangers... two of which were blond, one was brunette, many more that only stood out for a moment.... but leaving was best for me. Moments and choices. things I don't want to be... but things I long to be. The only answer that I do see to this question says only "Time"...a long time...
A different question now. "Worth?".. which voice on this one... the wrong one...I know I know.... but its honest. Not set by christ, not set by position. Answered sadly by ancy-frustration. its not money (ok well its not ONLY money) Its purpose, its where I see my place here,  but I don't see it anytime soon if ever. But evidently not now...
Many questions...much death...some life...but considering I don't know the questions even fewer answers... we'll call it a day.




Just thought I'd write a follow up disclaimer here...you don't for one have to understand ANY of this. It's as confusing to me as it is to you...hence the Bloggal-puking. Besides the whole thing was written by my A.D.D. (welcome to how i USUALLY think) And just as an FYI, not suicidal, just thought I'd cover my butt with that one. I'm good....just allot of life, and allot of question there of. some of which requires me to be and act a certain way, easy or not.

clef note version

So I just wrote out a long blog....and deleted it...if your were going to be tested on the contents of the page you didn't read the cheat sheet would say simply. feeling stir crazy and pathetic....and thats bout all you need...I'm gonna go watch family guy now. so there you have it.

My life is random...my life is spastic. over here for a month; over there for the next. Not complaining, I like it like that. Its exciting. Thats how my entire adult life has been. since probably 14, 15, 16 somewhere in there. Its kinda the only perspective I have when I look forward. I had a really weird thought today though; I was thinking of a friend of mine, trying to see life from his perspective. it was cool, but weird. My life seams like I'm always getting ready to be going somewhere, but in my mind I never actually get there. Not literally, no I don't think like that. I just mean that thats the way my life looks. A perpetual journey.  Trying to put myself in his perspective I saw something totally different. he wasn't "trying to get anywhere." Not meaning that life was passing him by, but like he was where he was at and that was cool by him. It was very different to think of. I've considered before what "settling down" would look like. but only from an outside perspective. I don't know its cause he's "settled down" or not. And I'm not sure, regardless if thats what "settling down" is, I still don't know if I liked it, for me that is. It definitely had a beauty to it, not denying that. It wasn't without its excitement so it seamed. It was just different thats all. And I suppose I never thought to define my life that way....that I was always on my way somewhere but never got there. I don't know if I am headed somewhere specific, or if it is just a journey kind of thing. It's like a girl (stay with me) you chase her...but your never really supposed to ever catch her. thats half the fun. (hmm, couldn't think of anything to say after that, cause now I'm thinking of girls...oh well) right...life...perspective....perpetual journey, blah blah....so I don't know if thats a question I should even seek exploring. I like my life. I don't think I would be happier of I were to "settle down" In fact in allot of ways I'm worried that I wouldn't be happier. (NOT talking about girls anymore....don't extrapolate marriage into "settling down"....you can have both...call me a nieve optimist but yeah)...(great now I'm thinking of Girls again....A.D.D. is sooooo much fun hehe)...and...still stuck on girls...right life...the thought was interesting for sure, have I been chassing something. If so...what?? and will I ever catch it...maybe I'm not supposed to. what if I am supposed to but I don't...oh well. It was certainly an entertaining notion... and the rest of my day is now being spent (not thinking of girls) but deciding If I'm comfortable exploring the opportunity of being a pastor....wha!@#&*^!!!...thats my usual sentiment concerning the idea. I can be involved in ministry without being a shepherd. but is it better....is that what God has me in for?? I like the idea of NOT...and I may be stubborn, but not so much that I wont do it if I feel that thats what God has called me too. But thinking of most of the pastors I know, I want to be nothing like them. not that their bad guys, or even bad pastors...it's just not what I think I could do, or should do....blah...I should go back to thinking of girls...their the less frustrating topic for once

sober irony

So I'm doin, well....what I do...i'm sittin at Starbucks. Working on the book. reading about repentance (well and galationism at the same time) I'm sitting at a table facing the door. the sun is setting and its near blinding. but I get to see all the different people walk in. The looks on their faces, the books they bring in. (the persona they bring in) The lady waring a blue-tooth but hasn't' talked on the phone the whole hour she's been here, but all her mannerisms try to look like savvy business woman. She's got the right shades, the right shoes, the right "piss-off,  I'm successful and a woman" look on her face. The emo girl, she's younger, maybe early High school, sitting by her self doing homework. Well...she's kinda doing homework. She's not overkill emo; the clothes are toned down but the eye liner is there. she moves her pencil a bit and looks around at everybody in the room before moving it again. her glance around the room is different though, it asks if people even see her. but the girl that really caught my attention before she even walked in, was "mid riff." I saw her before she got to the door to come in, She's not built skinny, but definitely not out of shape either, young, maybe 18-19ish, between the way she dresses and the way she walks, she's trying to emulate lindsey Lohan completely. And at first my reaction was to roll my eyes. she was trying so hard. but then my thoughts went to how sad her world must be. trying that hard to be worth something, wondering every moment if its working. then I noticed the song that was playing on my Ipod as this played out:
"Love brake me now, strip me down, may your beauty deep inside of me resound, through it be found; come brake me now"
The verses and the heart behind that song just exchanged with the situation as I observed this girl. I tried going and talking with her, I wanted to leave her a book. but I didn't get a chance.
Its these encounters that play in my mind, sometimes for a day, some for years. not sure bout this one?? I know it'll stay for a few days. The reality, the hurt, the pain that I see in people. and how hard they clench to it thinking that thats "just the way it is." When the bible says things like "every knee will bow, and every tongue will confess that Jesus is Lord."... I see it. I don't know for certain how that will look (I'll let ya know then ok) but as I see people; most of them want what my God is, they just don't know that its HE their looking for, crying for. The don't see him as he is. There are so many counterfeits how could you blame them. I remember my counterfeits. God was fake, not like "God didn't exist" I always believed that god was real. but I thought he was as shallow and pathetic as the people that bared his name. the only time I saw them with back bone it was to condemn someone else. And if that was God... than screw him. There was a counterfeit me too...I was powerful, accomplished, FREE...hmm...."free" yeah. that was all counterfeit too. I thought so much and understood little of reality....of truth. thats what I see around me too. Not people who hate God, maybe as they understand him. and if he was as they understand, I'd hate him too. People don't resist truth as much as christians make it sound, they just don't understand it...and that....is our fault, not theirs. From listening to believers talk you think that everybody outside church membership is ready to run our cars off the road for dawning a christian bumper sticker. I guess I just don't see the animosity that others do. Maybe cause I remember what the other side of the fence is like. and I can see that very familiar look..hollowest eyes, dried tears even when they haven't been crying. I remember the weight. I remember the black. Thats what keeps me in the gospel. I haven't moved out from it in the seven years now that I've been a Christian (and I hope I never do!)

So do you ever have those days when you wonder if you ever accomplish anything. whether anything you do ever accomplishes anything. If your even making a difference for the people around you?? cause I have those days more often than not really. So last week was my 26th birth day. And it just kinda came and went, nothing special. I had to work actually; so my day was 13 really cold hours outside in the snow (it was a slow day at work too) so my birthday seamed like no big deal. On one hand I'm kinda ok with that. In allot of ways I don't like getting older, I don't like packing up another year of life and moving into the next. I don't like feeling like the old goat among all of my friends. Some times I wish nobody knew when it was and I could just slide under peoples radars. but thats solid insecurities and I know that. But of course at the same time, its still your birth day and you still like feeling appreciated and loved by the people that mean the most to you. My friends made me cry (dorks). You see they got together and made a video with some of the most loved people in my life, sending me greetings, saying HI!!!, being redicilous, and a few being mushy (and yeah i liked that too ;) For a birthday that wasn't a milestone, and one that I could have just assumed passed by unnoticed, they gave me one of the greatest  gifts I've ever received. It was more than just appreciation, it was different than just communicating love. It was very personal, it was humbling... it was great. it was neat to see that I've been a part of so many lives and meant something to them. It was a great gift. Probably the best i've ever received...and now I'm tired and going to bed cause I said what I wanted to say!

Faith has flesh...

We've been looking into faith at church. And like all things that are biblical, they're to be affective in our life They're not supposed to be words and ideas. they are supposed to actually change our lives! they're supposed to have some skin. some reality.

And so we've been looking at faith. There are so many definitions, most of them crap! The one commonly accepted is from Hebrews 11:1 it says that "faith is; being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see" Obviously thats a good way to describe it. the originator of the idea is the one who penned it. It does have some vagueness to it. I do like the way that Scott and Jim (the pastors) described it. "Faith is: recognizing that God is who he says he is and will do the things that he has promised to do."

so we looked at poker... basically when life happens; what is the basis of your faith, does it crumble like a house of cards. It will if its not found in Christ. Who is also named the solid rock By the way. but what I'm faced with more is what we talked about this week. Again looking at the Poker idea; Going "all in" every chip you have, all you are, everything, on the turn of one card. And it will determine the validity of your choice. For  Christians looking at faith like this, the character of God is that last card. Noah was a foolish man to do what he did, get up every morning for decades and go out into a field FAR away from water and build a huge boat. The only reason he's not gone through history as a laughing stock is because of the character of God to be faithful to what he told Noah. And because of the outcome of God's faithfulness Noah is a legend who put everything he had on the character of God. That idea of having an all in kind of faith resonates with me. I started writing a book in the first few years after I became a christian (never finished it though) about reckless abandon. dropping everything when God speaks, even thought even christians scoff at this kind of proactive faith, I see it in many characters in scripture. And is something that, since seeing it in print, I have been called out on by God. Most times I do well to be a radical. someways are hard but mostly I kinda like it.

The irony is that going all in has been the question off and on for a great part of the last year with myself and particular girl.(I know it all comes back to a girl right) With roadblocks and obstacles, the frequency of which I have never seen, and obviously never expected. And the question of "all in" was always the thing we kept coming back too...no not sex....but marriage, get your mind back (har har har) So Scott was speaking yesterday in church and he was asking as a means of application, saying "what does 'all in' faith look like in your life." Yeah... that's hard to extrapolate. Thanks allot Scott!! (shmo) With unfortunate clarity, it seams that the best way (not the easiest way mind you ;) of "all in" means placing the chips into Gods hands. I can do that, I can place myself into Gods hands. Actually I kinda like doing that (...usually) Its not too bad of a move  when its not something like a job, or a decision over where to live. For certain it becomes a harder maneuver when placing into Gods hands the object of your affection and not just yourself. My fait and my life seams easy to allow God to shift and shape more readily than to allow it to be more than me and my crazy life. Now it affects more, affects greater... has deeper meaning and effect. God I'm thankful that you are who you are. but at the same time I cant help but be anxious even in your hands... call it a lack of trust, or an unrest, you can if you wish. In my foggy eyes it looks more like weight and gravity. But the assurance is in your character and creativity that I've tasted in my life already, I can read of the heros and cheer the work there, but really, I don't care there as much as I should. But it has connection to me what is already mine, what you already have been. and the promise there is that you never cease being...

well, Got through my work day... now chillin in a coffee shop, probably my favorite thing to do. Had a wonderful weekend. Stephi's 16th... (going on 30) she's always a blessing to me. I like her... yeah I suppose I'll keep her around. I didn't even brake the rule as many times as I was supposed to :P so there! It was nice that way, I was relaxed and just there. I like that, I like being that. So mostly the time was good. Glad for the time and the memories that it is/was... the interesting thing is. the things you want not to remember, moments of poor character, Times I should have shown a higher character as a leader. And no one demands perfection as condition of friendship, well at least none of my friends do luckily. But I want to have the integrity they deserve, if I honestly consider myself a leader than i must never settle or shrug off the responsibility I have to be that. but any way, I would love to write more, and I may later, but I need to get some reading finished, and its already almost midnight so... later will be later

I'm disappointed in Christians... this is nothing new. If you look out at Christendom you see allot of movement, allot of busyness, but what's the point? With all of this activity we lack unity, community, and are massively lacking on impacting the world we live in. We've locked ourselves in the church. I see allot of pretty looking churches out there that say allot of good things... but thats where everything ends, it never seams to go past that. Thats as far as Christians seam to be willing to go. The Churches that seam to have the ability to do anything are usually shallow in their doctrine, and the churches that are deep in their doctrine are shallow as people. The few places that I've seen even try and do both usually spend half of their time just trying to keep their wheels off the ground. I don't get this. it doesn't make sense to me. I know that we are foreign to the world we exist in, but don't we supersede it? A lot of my friends are doing internships, trying to learn from Godly leaders so that my generation can grab the baton and continue the race. Yet of all the friends that are out their trying to do this with their lives, not a one of them that I have talked to is learning or growing where they are; in fact everyone of them is disappointed and just ready to be done with it. Its all been a pointless endeavor just to say that it happened. I'm not so upset now that I'm not doing one... course that doesn't' mean that I don't want exactly what they were attempting to accomplish though. In fact I very much want that, I want to spend time maturing under a Godly mentor that will grow me as a leader, and help me grow to have a greater affect for the Gospel. But its just not there... If you know where to find it I'd like to know, cause I 'v been looking for a while now. I'm to the point that I'm in essence throwing up my hands and saying "fine... I'll just do it myself" I may trip over my own clumsy feet, but I'll probably get farther than I would with [your] help. I realize that this is a total vent session, but that doesn't mean that the issue doesn't exist. All I need is momentum, get a ball rolling, and let the tripping begin...bring it! I'll do what I can with what I have if you wont help!!!!!

Inept, off, incapable, insufficient, defective.... unable to be... unable to change (?...) is change right? when every option offers hurt what can be right. chains that pile on scream to be thrown to the floor. but what will die in the process... some death is good. so are chains bad?!... But some death is just death...I have screaming in my ear....Ahhhh, soothing. Am I miss wired that that soothes me?! I would love fairy tale, but fairy tale doesn't love me... its not what my life looks like, its not real. Life us messy, scraggly, ugly... there is beauty; but i don't live there. I only get to visit. mmmm ...i like visiting! how come after a struggle you feel an empowerment of your perspective on the other side, but when another comes you feel small, insignificant, wrong even... and all you can think is, "Orgh...I don't have strength to do [this] again" I don't like hurting those I love ...easy button God? you created those too right....yeah....no....grrrrr. Blah, my computer is dusty, my room is messy my car is cluttered and there you have it, here I leave it...

A God over impossibilities

Often a reference to someone having a broken heart, means that that person has gone through something traumatically heart wrenching. It’s a reference to hurt and emotion associated with a loss or a hurtful instance. I’ve been pondering “broken heartedness” lately but not in this context. Yeah…been there too, but that’s not the way I’ve been churning it over in my head this week. I’ve been looking at “broken hearted” to be deeper than that surface abrasion.  The heart is defective. It’s broken because it’s incapable to doing what it does. It has the ability to try, but because it’s defective it can’t be affective in its role. This can’t be a reflection of its maker, because he can’t make mistakes, but is a sign of the condition of the people it’s that the creators’ perfect heart was entrusted to.  I find myself again standing knee deep in the imposable. When I take a look at all the directions I could walk or the things that this situation could become, I don’t like ANY what it becomes. It is literally an imposable thing. I don’t like moving forward, I don’t like walking away, and I don’t like sitting where I am. None of the angles work, no decision will fix anything of what this is. And so it’s impossible. Now there is hope, at least not in the way you or I think of hope. It’s not the way I ever think of hope being. The hope that is there is in the character of the one who created of the broken and defective: The intentional creative God of the universe. I always lean on him wanting him to snap his fingers and making everything ok. With the whoosh of his magic-lil-wand life becomes a fairytale to the ones that he loves. And he does love um!...but that’s not what I’ve learned he’s like. He’s better than that; He’s more powerful than that. He is a God who specializes in the imposable. To just snap his fingers would actually be limiting himself. You see the situation itself IS imposable, believe me, I’ve spent the time looking at every angle; and the lines don’t move.  The thing remains as it is, and I’m never satisfied with whatever end I see…where God is in the impossible, is not the seat of the genie-of-the-lamp, nope!...he’s far above that. The imposable situation shows his glory because he transcends impossibility…so in whatever direction I beat my face on the impossibility wall…he is the one who cries with me, and comforts me. He doesn’t make the impossible go away; he enables us to live IN impossibilities…that is a God! One who makes us able to do more than exist under the weight of an imposable life…but helps us to live impossibly. 

bare trap

have you ever been walking down a trail, happy go lucky, listening to birds tweeting and chirping away, whistling random tunes and the works. When suddenly your foot is snapped into a bare trap. You say a profanity or two, but look around feeling guilty, but its ok, no one is around to hear them. After a brief moment noticing that that means you are fully alone. And so you spend so much time sitting there starring at your predicament, that the puncture wounds on your leg fr start itch. You start pulling against the trap, but not in a effort to get free, but because the pain of enlarging the wounds seams somehow to sooth the medial itch??...Oh...you haven't....me either then

The other Brush

Frustration... the new game... the tremor that shakes my house of cards. Rumblings from a few fronts. "frustration"...A singe stupid word; an epidemic, Ironically...it's frustrating suddenly realizing that it holds the place of defining me? This is the brush that is busy drawing my picture? and now what does the picture look like?... How often will brushes change before a picture is complete? How many themes will one life hold before it ends? lately I find that its this brush that is splashing my colours. and "frustration" is the word that I find myself reaching to when asked how I'm doing.

frus·tra·tion (sharing the latin root for deception)

- a deep chronic sense or state of insecurity anddissatisfaction arising from unresolved problems or unfulfilled needs 

- The condition that results when an impulse or an action is thwarted by an external or an internal force.

- a feeling of dissatisfaction, often accompanied by anxiety or depression, resulting from unfulfilled needs or unresolved problems.

This is my picture...I don't like it; I would have to be a fool to enjoy it. And this is a far cry from the brush that created so much of the picture before it. That brush, "fortitude" (mental and emotional strength in facing difficulty, adversity, danger, or temptation courageously) I would like to finish the painting that was started with that brush. I know I changed artists. But I suppose that at the time I didn't realize that the picture would be so affected. It seems childish sometimes looking at things..."well God, so why did this happen?" and "where was your will in this?" or my personal favorite "but I was so sure this was you God?" I use that one with such a unique freshness that you'd think I was the first to bring the argument to Gods ear. And so I'm called out...how is my house of cards? Does it stand a little tremor, would it stand the world crashing its foundation? What is its foundation? Because there is only one foundation that will survive a world crashing into it, and that’s the one who overcame the world, Christ. So is he mine? Is the new brush and the altered picture of me a sign of a bad foundation. To you this is going to seam anti-climactic after all these words, but to me, for my picture its powerful simplicity. If my picture is drawn and finished with this new brush, if the new artist never changes it out for another, and continues to draw the way he has been. If I'm to be another doormat to another's peace, If I'm going to be another stepping stone, again a doorman, who's forgotten five feet in the door. Will I still love the artist if he draws a different picture than I think he should draw, then turn around and praise his art to everybody who sees it...(insert dramatic pause)...yes

em⋅pa⋅thy

em⋅pa⋅thy (em-puh-thee)

–noun

"the intellectual identification with or vicarious experiencing of the feelings, thoughts, or attitudes of another."

1.2 million children interring sex trade every year...this means that every minute two children are trafficked for sexual exploitation; every minute... estimations of up to 300,000 children are in prostitution in the U.S. alone, of those, anywhere between 100,00-150,000 are slaves.

Shocking...I know! angry...I KnOw*&!^!...mad enough to kill... yeah...I know. I was listening last night as someone was sharing their stories; and it hurt! it sucked! It was a kind of uncomfortable that you cant describe. That you cant shake. I don't mind a good fight but I mind this one. I don't even like the thought of fighting it. Having to fight it... needing to fight it! The guy sharing said that he wanted to run and not even have to think bout it...I know how he feels, but then he said: "but what about that kid, they don't get to look away, they don't get to take a breather, they don't get to say that they've had enough, to cry "no more!"... cause he's a slave. a prisoner, in body, yes.... but the bondage is so much deeper than that now. You think you can't sleep at night, what memory of his day is keeping him awake tonight... What?..."don't go there" you say. It's hard to ignore isn't it? its hard to get out of your head isn't it? its hard not to throw up... isn't it? how does Empathy register with you now..."vicarious experience" anyone? Normally I'd apologies for making people think about these things. I hate this so much that I work hard so that the people I love NEVER have these memories in their head... even if they are only empathy, or a dream... but this time, i don't feel as its my place to apologize. I don't feel right brushing this off. cause thats what an apology would be. I don't even know where to begin to even sort through this...LORD where are you? you're with them right?...you're holding them; and crying with them, right? But hang on God, you died for even their pimps? offer their "clients" grace...I still don't get you sometimes. I wish I had your capacity to forgive, to redeem, I know that sin is sin. I know: I really know; that I'm no better than them without You...but I still can't wrap my head around it. I've tasted your grace, I know where my salvation comes from, I have no delusions as to who I am without you... but this still seams impossible for me. I'm just being honest. I wish I could be spiritual enough to say that this issue was the same as other sins to me (and don't sit there and applaud my sincerity...I"M in the the wrong!) I don't even know where to put this in my head. I know that where it lies isn't right, because it lies somewhere between pain and rage. But this does deepen my understanding of you... you will wipe away every tear. And what that verse means here leaves me void right now. That kind of comfort is heavy. Its as far out of my understanding as your offer of grace to the undeserved. I suppose they work together, because you are completely both.

"Home"

"home;" one word, only making one syllable, and using only four letters...yet its something that people obsess an entire lifetime to posses. Something people will end their life in an attempt to protect. Some people think they find it by Buying it. Some people think its attained my makeing it. One person travels far away from everyone so they can have one, while another person stays their entire life in the same fifty square miles cause of it. Some people have a good one, some people hope for a better one. As for me...where do I fall in all these contrasts about "home"...well thats an easy answer...no where, I don't get any of um honestly. Home is something that I have only seen glimpses of, in a few moments of my life, typically, moments that last mere seconds, maybe a minute or two. But its never something that I'v known. "home" seams elusive to me. I don't get it, I don't understand it. I don't know what it looks like or feels like. Many of my friends have heard me say that I have never once been homesick...and I haven't. I suppose I would like to be some day...I think ;:-) But I have to have "home" first. Every day of my life I feel like a guest. And I don't mean that in like a super-spiritual, "I am a holy sojourner" kinda way...(buff black man voice) "I am a citizen of heaven"...that's not what I'm referring too. And maybe that will be the only "Home" that I ever know, I don't know *shrug*. In allot of ways I love not having it...I'm not tied to it and it is freeing to go anywhere and do so many things...but I also know that "home" is not a place. So having one doesn't mean that I give that up. For some people it is a place I suppose, but I know its not for me. All I know is that I don't have it...I long for it. I want it...but it eludes me. its like a sick game that I dont even like to play yet I still laugh at its irony and chuckle in its loneliness. Someone deer to me once wrote me a note about it I think seeing all of this about me. praying that I find it someday...and letting me know that IT IS something that when i find it, CAN always wander with me...you may be reading this getting more confused as you read...well welcome to the wanderings of my mind, it makes sense to me. Or maybe if you've read this far you think I'm a yuppy...well the silver lining in both of those is this....it's MY note, that why it didn't mention you...ergo I don't have to care what you think about my gray thrown (and no you weren't actually supposed to understand that part either...extra points if ya did ;) so there :P

The masochism of Christianity; surrender to the over-analyzer...

“…Anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” I don’t think it’s that Christ has a morbid sense of hummer (like me). But that he of all people fully understood what is required of a steward. We do not have a high priest who cannot sympathies with our weakness. Wherever we are…he’s been there. We can see when he prayed in the garden he was not comfortable; his spirit was not at peace. In fact he stated that he was “overwhelmed…even to the point of death,” and immediately followed with something…un-natural. “Everything is possible for you…not what I will but what you will !” He purposed himself to what he knew was right.
I memorized a quote a few years ago when I first saw Jesus as a savior and not as some detached Sunday school lesson. It’s by Elisabeth Elliot; she states that “the surrender of our hearts deepest desire is as close as one can come to understanding Jesus’ death on the cross.” Every so often my savior asks me to remember that quote with an “uncomfortable freshness.” (-as the “PG” version states) And every time he does I beg him not to bring it up again…but than I catch myself, and look back up at him and say “…but if you chose to, I hope that you’ll find me faithful.”
To me the definition of “Courage” is quite similar to surrender. Courage is: doing what you know is right, in spite of your fear. You see you must posses fear to even have the opportunity to be courageous. And to exercise that courage you must act above fear. The same is true for a disciple. You must act above the natural. Seeing what is right and doing it, even if it adds to your trouble or pain. Ryan Dobson states that:
[There’s a lot of dying for you and me to do. The kind that doesn’t stop your breathing or your heart…but it’s still dying. Funny how the bible insists on calling it that. It doesn’t say “adjust.” It doesn’t say “tweak you behavior.” It doesn’t say “modify your identity.” It doesn’t say “evolve your personhood.” It says DIE. And keep dying.]
This is a pretty heavy topic for me, I don’t like death…it hurts! Especially when the thing I must act above is emotions…I’m a very emotional person! (Insert woman joke here) But I always have quotes pop into my head telling me to “keep paying the price. Let God see that you’re willing to live up to the vision.” (-Oswald Chambers) And unfortunately “the Law of sacrifice means that one sacrifice seldom brings success” (-John C Maxwell) So many trustworthy people have a lot to say about real surrender, I wish I could organize it all into one deep thought.
The topic of surrender brings me to a deep spiritual and emotional crossroads which is usually when I fall faint and beg for mercy. And often God recites to me Jeremiah 29:11 “for I know the plans I have for says the LoRD, plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.” The bible shows us on every page that there is a controller. A very intentional one…and to me remembering that is usually when I receive the courage to direct momentum in the right direction.
Is your head spinning yet? Believe it or not this is the way my mind organizes things…scary Ah.