I drove up to the Pasadena area yesterday. The sun shone with such warmth that I kept my window rolled down and enjoyed the wind blowing through my hair as I zoomed past green hills scattered with trees, fields, brush, and the mountains in view. Closer to LA the old neighborhoods and stretches of beautiful barren land replaced the hills. The heat also became more stifling. I pushed through, determined to enjoy a day when I was free of work and free to enjoy the beauty around me. The sky above shone so bright, so blue...
Hours later, after an enjoyable afternoon, I decided to make a quick purchase before returning home. Walking down the street, I suddenly felt aware of my singularity. Most people around me were with others - especially the females. I felt vulnerable and alone. I crossed the street with a mass of people, free to go where I wanted but also free of protection...not that I needed any - I just felt the void.
I made my purchase after some deliberation and friendly chatting with the salesman and then headed back outside, proud of my prize. This time, I stood alone in the sun while waiting for the light to change, allowing my eyes to wander. And then I saw her - a woman. Was that bare skin? Were her pants pulled down? No. It couldn't be. People didn't do that in public. And yet...was it? I tried not to look in case it was what I thought it was. Nobody around me seemed to notice her. Was she actually...? No, she couldn't be. Reality finally had it's way though, and I saw her pull up her bright green sweat pants as a puddle of piss ran down the sidewalk.
Driving home, I longed to return to the cooler temperatures of home. As traffic crawled, I reflected on the day - relatively relaxed even though I normally get antsy when I'm not "moving." My happy anticipation of returning home grew once I returned to a more familiar highway and traffic picked up. Cars came to a quick slow, though, and I thought I was in for a traffic jam caused by an accident. The "accident" turned out to be a fallen box of books and magazines that had apparently fallen (perhaps out of a moving truck), exploded, and subsequently been run over. The debris of written material scattered across the highway as words which once had meaning were reduced to discarded trash - to be avoided by oncoming vehicles. I remembered the woman.
It made my heart hurt.
What a complex day. The beauty. The brokenness. The pleasure. The discomfort.
Life is not so simple...
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
My heart currently wants to beat out of my chest. I keep telling it that it has to stay put. It is not pleased.
I am currently writing this post while hooked up to my nebulizer. It's for the purpose of treating my bronchitis...that I still have. (It'll be 7 weeks on Saturday, but that's another posting, I suppose.)
Here is my current thought: I don't know much about Jack Kerouack, but I think I need to get my hands onto whatever he's written. These quotes of his convince me of this:
The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!" (On the Road)
I hope it is true that a man can die and yet not only live in others but give them life, and not only life but that great consciousness of life. (from a journal entry)
You see? This man has passion. This man is tapped into truth. I need to pick up his writings.
Here is my current thought: I don't know much about Jack Kerouack, but I think I need to get my hands onto whatever he's written. These quotes of his convince me of this:
The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!" (On the Road)
I hope it is true that a man can die and yet not only live in others but give them life, and not only life but that great consciousness of life. (from a journal entry)
You see? This man has passion. This man is tapped into truth. I need to pick up his writings.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
The Shy Dancing Zebra: A Story for Kyle
Once upon a time, there were two friends who met at a church.
He was from one part of the world, and she was from another and they were both a little differrrent.
One day, decided to go on an adventure with a group of other like-minded friends.
They traveled from one place
to another.
While in that other new place, they learned a new language.
They went shopping at an outdoor market, called a suk, where they bought things...like pots;
they road camels;
They also went on a hike. One of them climbed a tree while they rested in the shade.
They did a lot of other really neat things and had many incredible adventures while in this far-away place, but that would make for a very long story to tell. Eventually, though, they had to return home...and he went away again (this time on an adventure of his own).
But they were still friends. So, one day, she wrote him a note to tell him so...
He was from one part of the world, and she was from another and they were both a little differrrent.
One day, decided to go on an adventure with a group of other like-minded friends.
They traveled from one place
to another.
While in that other new place, they learned a new language.
(They shared the language book...
...because everyone knows that sharing is caring.)
...because everyone knows that sharing is caring.)
They went shopping at an outdoor market, called a suk, where they bought things...like pots;
they road camels;
they tried new foods, drank a lot of tea;
and they shared new music with one another. One of the friends really liked a song called "Fatima.")
They also went on a hike. One of them climbed a tree while they rested in the shade.
They did a lot of other really neat things and had many incredible adventures while in this far-away place, but that would make for a very long story to tell. Eventually, though, they had to return home...and he went away again (this time on an adventure of his own).
But they were still friends. So, one day, she wrote him a note to tell him so...
...because that's what you do when you care.
The End.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Childish
It seems to go this way:
Something comes along in life that I want. By "want" I don't just mean, "Oh, I'd like that. It'd be nice." By "want" I mean want as in my heart desires it - I long for it. Often times with such things that I want, it ends up being something that I cannot or should not have. The frustration at keeping my hands off generally results in exposing a lot of the hurts, fears, and struggles in my own heart. Generally, this expresses itself in my frustration with God.
God, you won't give me what I want...
My mature response, then, is to turn my back on Him and sulk - frustrated over not being able to have what I think would make me (at least temporarily) happy. I caught myself going through this cycle the other day. While I cannot say that my attitude or behavior has drastically improved since then, I will confess what dawned on me:
God, for all the times that I get mad at you and turn my back on you, thank you for not doing the same to me.
Something comes along in life that I want. By "want" I don't just mean, "Oh, I'd like that. It'd be nice." By "want" I mean want as in my heart desires it - I long for it. Often times with such things that I want, it ends up being something that I cannot or should not have. The frustration at keeping my hands off generally results in exposing a lot of the hurts, fears, and struggles in my own heart. Generally, this expresses itself in my frustration with God.
God, you won't give me what I want...
My mature response, then, is to turn my back on Him and sulk - frustrated over not being able to have what I think would make me (at least temporarily) happy. I caught myself going through this cycle the other day. While I cannot say that my attitude or behavior has drastically improved since then, I will confess what dawned on me:
God, for all the times that I get mad at you and turn my back on you, thank you for not doing the same to me.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Gasping
It's like this: four or five weeks ago, I managed to catch "a bug" which quickly developed into something worse than a cold. I rested, took lots of vitamins, but did not get any better. I decided to visit the doctor wherein I was told that whatever I had was turning bronchial. Enter: the use of three prescriptions. A week later, after finishing up my antibiotics, I decided to visit the doctor again because I still had a "lingering cough." The experience of having a night where I had extreme difficulty breathing helped fuel this decision. Upon my second visit, I was told that my bronchitis had moved deeper into my lungs. Enter: the prescribing of more medicines and even stronger antibiotics along with the admonishment to not drink any caffeine (which I actually had already stopped drinking from the week before). About a week after that, I finally finished my prescriptions, feeling much better - so much so that I would have called myself "healed"...
After three weeks of being sick, I felt "fine"...
my cough bothers me on rare occasions now...like yesterday when it came back in a force so strong that it left me feeling light headed and needing to sit down.
I don't get it. I just don't get it.
Three weeks. Three weeks of intense resting, taking care of myself, taking vitamins (until I had to stop because of my prescriptions), and of taking some very strong medications...
Three weeks of doing everything I was supposed to do. And yet I continue(d) to struggle with being sick. I just don't get it.
In the midst of my frustration, I see an illustration of my spiritual life. I "do the things I'm supposed to do" and yet the results are not what I expect. I do not quickly emerge victorious (even though I think I should). Instead, I continue battle in an exhausting fight. Then, when I finally "win," it comes back so that I have to fight it again.
What an image of sin in my life.
This is why prayer is important (concerning matters of health and beyond). This is why I need to rely on the strength, knowledge, and love of One who is greater than I. The doctor can tell me what's going on with my body, and he can tell me what I need to do to be healthy; but only God can take care of my soul.
After three weeks of being sick, I felt "fine"...
my cough bothers me on rare occasions now...like yesterday when it came back in a force so strong that it left me feeling light headed and needing to sit down.
I don't get it. I just don't get it.
Three weeks. Three weeks of intense resting, taking care of myself, taking vitamins (until I had to stop because of my prescriptions), and of taking some very strong medications...
Three weeks of doing everything I was supposed to do. And yet I continue(d) to struggle with being sick. I just don't get it.
In the midst of my frustration, I see an illustration of my spiritual life. I "do the things I'm supposed to do" and yet the results are not what I expect. I do not quickly emerge victorious (even though I think I should). Instead, I continue battle in an exhausting fight. Then, when I finally "win," it comes back so that I have to fight it again.
What an image of sin in my life.
This is why prayer is important (concerning matters of health and beyond). This is why I need to rely on the strength, knowledge, and love of One who is greater than I. The doctor can tell me what's going on with my body, and he can tell me what I need to do to be healthy; but only God can take care of my soul.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Foolish
Today at work a girl came in to order a drink. By my estimation, she was probably in junior high or early high school. Naturally red, long, thick bangs swept across her heavily freckled face. She seemed tired or disinterested and I picked up on something going on internally as she gave me minimal eye-contact and hardly returned my smile (perhaps it was battles with insecurity, thoughts over a heavy homework load...I don't know). She had a sweet, kind face though. After ringing her up, I commented to her as she walked away, "By the way, you have adorable freckles." She did. They were really cute. Her face immediately broke into a smile and she turned around to beam at me as she walked away, bright blue eyes sparkling.
Honestly, it was a slight risk on my part. I mean, it's easy to tell someone that you like their hair, clothing, nails, cologne or perfume, etc. but to say that you like a person's facial features takes a bit more risk. It just does. I thought it was worth it and it was an honest compliment though, and it paid off, so I'd say it was worth it. (I try to live my life in following up, "if you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all," with, "if you have something nice to say, then share it." Life is just too short.)
I was caught off guard when my coworker (whom I'd been unaware of watching or listening to me) remarked, "You are so weird. Who compliments other people on their freckles?"
My indignation and response aside, my remaining thought on the incident is that we live in a very sad society if we are so insecure that we are unable to say kind things to one another for fear that we might look like fools.
I guess this is what it looks like to have my identity grounded in the love that Christ showed for me on the Cross. I am released from having to work for approval. I could never earn it anyway. I could never be good enough, cool enough, pretty enough, talented enough. Instead, God, in His ultimate mercy, chose to shower me in His grace and determine that which was unlovable to be worth of love - love beyond reason or understanding. How often I forget: the world doesn't understand that.
Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, 23 but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, 24 but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. 25 For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.
So, let me look like a fool, then, if it means that I get to love.
Honestly, it was a slight risk on my part. I mean, it's easy to tell someone that you like their hair, clothing, nails, cologne or perfume, etc. but to say that you like a person's facial features takes a bit more risk. It just does. I thought it was worth it and it was an honest compliment though, and it paid off, so I'd say it was worth it. (I try to live my life in following up, "if you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all," with, "if you have something nice to say, then share it." Life is just too short.)
I was caught off guard when my coworker (whom I'd been unaware of watching or listening to me) remarked, "You are so weird. Who compliments other people on their freckles?"
My indignation and response aside, my remaining thought on the incident is that we live in a very sad society if we are so insecure that we are unable to say kind things to one another for fear that we might look like fools.
I guess this is what it looks like to have my identity grounded in the love that Christ showed for me on the Cross. I am released from having to work for approval. I could never earn it anyway. I could never be good enough, cool enough, pretty enough, talented enough. Instead, God, in His ultimate mercy, chose to shower me in His grace and determine that which was unlovable to be worth of love - love beyond reason or understanding. How often I forget: the world doesn't understand that.
Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, 23 but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, 24 but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. 25 For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.
For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, 31 so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.” (1 Corinthians 1: 22-30)
So, let me look like a fool, then, if it means that I get to love.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Blinders
She sat silently after my last statement.
"Mom, what are you thinking? I can see the wheels turning."
"Well, I don't know what to say. I can't make you not want his approval so badly, and I can't make him give you approval either." As instantaneous tears sprang to my eyes, she added, "I can give you a hug though."
Approval. I hadn't realized that I wanted it so badly.
Oh Lord, have mercy on me. I don't take my faith seriously. I brush it off. I brush Your Word off. I brush You off. I look for love, approval, and acceptance from things, people, and relationships that do not satisfy - that cannot satisfy. I lack discipline. I am totally and completely unable to fix myself so that even with the desire to live in healthy relationship with You, I am cannot make myself better. I look in the wrong places for forgiveness - for meaning. I live my life for things that make me work and yet never satisfy me. I am tired. I lack intentionality. Instead of pursuing the beautiful things that make my heart come alive, I waste my life with the mundane - with noise - endless static. Refresh the internet page. Maybe something interesting will have happened. No, click it again. God, I'm bored. Instead of living my life to its fullness, I settle for mediocrity.
And yet, I hide all that so well. No wonder I feel so tired.
Physically, emotionally, spiritually.
Oh, great and loving Father who still beckons me in the midst of my brokenness - which extends beyond my own comprehension - wash over me with a love that blows my understanding.
Oh Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.
"Mom, what are you thinking? I can see the wheels turning."
"Well, I don't know what to say. I can't make you not want his approval so badly, and I can't make him give you approval either." As instantaneous tears sprang to my eyes, she added, "I can give you a hug though."
Approval. I hadn't realized that I wanted it so badly.
Oh Lord, have mercy on me. I don't take my faith seriously. I brush it off. I brush Your Word off. I brush You off. I look for love, approval, and acceptance from things, people, and relationships that do not satisfy - that cannot satisfy. I lack discipline. I am totally and completely unable to fix myself so that even with the desire to live in healthy relationship with You, I am cannot make myself better. I look in the wrong places for forgiveness - for meaning. I live my life for things that make me work and yet never satisfy me. I am tired. I lack intentionality. Instead of pursuing the beautiful things that make my heart come alive, I waste my life with the mundane - with noise - endless static. Refresh the internet page. Maybe something interesting will have happened. No, click it again. God, I'm bored. Instead of living my life to its fullness, I settle for mediocrity.
And yet, I hide all that so well. No wonder I feel so tired.
Physically, emotionally, spiritually.
Oh, great and loving Father who still beckons me in the midst of my brokenness - which extends beyond my own comprehension - wash over me with a love that blows my understanding.
Oh Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.
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