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.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
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
#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
Monday, November 23, 2009
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.
...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.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
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...
this one has been death...
We know it, most of us exist there in one way or another...
Theirs
Bad
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.
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 OursTheirs
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
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)