Let's Dream Bigger! Shall We?

Let's dream bigger shall we?

Do we believe in a God who created the universe or don't we?
Are we straining towards and anticipating a time when everything, every single thing is made perfect and new?

Or are we settling for half-finished?

Unrealized

Unfulfilled

Unsatisfied

Hiding the uncertainty. Shoving into corners our questions and doubts.

I will not settle for so little. Not plastering smiles over sorrow. I will not settle for tomorrow, when today we're crying out for hope.

I will not settle for a little, when I know God is more. He does not pat us on the head and just tell us it will be worth it someday. Today he also cries with us, weeps with us, heals us, redeems us, carries us, loves us. Today.

If God is who we as Christians say he is, then he is able to heal and restore beyond any and everything we think possible. And when we witness him do it, do miracles it's like a great bubbling up, and laughter. Because of course he has done it. Suddenly it's all clear then. The reason, the timing, the waiting.

I've been crying out to and waiting for you God. I've been waiting for you to break through and fix the unfixable. I'm thirsty to see your goodness God. I want to see you overwhelm with hope those who've lost all hope. I want to see your healing restore. I want to hear laughter that's whole. I want things to be made right. Every thing, not just some things.

I want your kingdom to come.

Our father who art in heaven.
Hallowed be thy name.
Thy Kingdom come.
Thy will be done.
On earth, as it is in heaven.
Give us today, our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation but deliver from evil for thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever and ever.
Amen.

Words Don't Scare Me

Words don't scare me. But ideas do.
An idea can destroy kingdoms.
An idea can demoralize nations.
An idea can take root in your soul and poison it until there is nothing left but cold desire and a thirst for something that never was and can never be.
Fear is an extremely potent sort of idea.
The idea that if the worst could happen, it may happen and it will happen. The idea that everything is hopeless, inevetable. Without cause or reason.
Fear says it cannot be overcome. It tells you it cannot be quenched. It tells you it is a virus. Well a virus is like getting a cold.
Yes, that's right. You can protect against it, get flu shots. You can spritz your hands with sanitizer, clean the doorknobs, isolate yourself from coworkers and friends. Yet sometimes even then it will find you. It can catch you unawares.
Then what do you do? If you have a cold you deal with it accordingly. You rest. You drink water. You rest some more.
And the cold doesn't go away, but you manage. Even a particularly persistent cold never lasts forever.
Fear can paralyze. Fear can sting. Fear can poison. But fear cannot kill.
Fear cannot cause you pain. But it is a type of pain. So don't fear what fear can do. Do not fear whatever it is you fear.
Pain is not the worst thing that can happen to you. Because there is beauty there. The greatest poets, athletes, geniuses, works of art have a depth to their joy that comes from the pain they've been put through.
So whether or not you fear has very little do to do with what will happen. And what will happen has little to do with whether or not you fear. 

A Christmas Song

Something's cold in the winter
the day
the end
the middle
the start

Something's cold stirring my bones
A biting winds coming in.
A wildness has come
will it ever leave
not until the hunger's been satisfied

I'm holding the warmth in winter
a song
a smile
a word
an end

I'm holding in the warmth this winter
a fire
a light
a friend

The snow is swirling in the winter
blindness as thick as ice

I can't see into the future
I can't see into this night

A gray haze, half heard words
A shouted warning
then something hurts.

Somethings cold about the winter
the day
the end
the middle
the start

There's No Door

Like pulling water out of a deep well

You pulled words up from your mire of thoughts - the depths of your soul. 

There was a sort of unreachable quality in your speech

...as if you could not fully touch or hold your thoughts

Perhaps you could but chose not to.

And there was something you were wrestling with too. 

And a clarity too. A bright unvarnished clarity that people only know if they've known deep pain.

Yet also blindness. Obviously others could see what you saw. But they didn't. And you didn't see that they wouldn't.

Or you wanted there to be something and there wasn't.

So you wrestled, but with what I couldn't see. The battle was hidden from view.

I stared and wonder..what in the world you must be thinking. For you never said your thoughts aloud. Then I thought perhaps it was that you had nothing to say. 

And you didn't have anything to say. Not about the weather. Or food that day. Or what you planned to do. Only the unknown and unexplored.

Yet I've never wanted to go there much. Space is to big for fiddling with. 

And over and over you turn the cards. Flipping the thoughts over in your mind. The room still sits expectantly, to hear unspoken words that are never said.

I stare and see no ice. But then there's no door either. No door, no ice, no words, no path. A code? A puzzle. Yet codes must be cracked.

Of course to solve a code you need a key. I think perhaps then that's what you'd given me. Although it looked just like a word. A phrase, unintentional at first.

But that's often how puzzles are solved. Something that seemed unimportant, is the most important of all.

Let's Just Sing

Intro
F            G7            C   C7?
Whoo oh Whoa oh oh

Verse
F              G7           C
You can't stop the light
F        G7           C
from getting through
F               G7        C
You can't stop the sun from rising
F       G7   C
You can't stop the truth

Dm                         Am                   Bb                        F
Clouds may cover up the sky. But still the stars will shine.
Dm                         Am                   Bb                        F
Evil thoughts may cloak our heart. But still God's love is true.



Chorus
C                                   C7
There's a time for everything
F                                    B7
There's a time to weep and sing
C                  Am            Dm 
But for now sing along  sing along
G7                 (F)   C
sing along with me

Chorus 2:
F                                    B7                    C
Delight in his presence. He delights in yours friend.
C                  Am           
Joy is seeing God's face.
  Dm                        G
So for now sit and soak in his love.

C                                   C7
Hope doesn't take away the paint
F                        B7
It makes it beautiful
C                  Am            Dm    G7                 (F)   C
Take delight in his presence. Worship him now. His goodness is real.

Bridge:
C                                       Bb
I sing cause the darkness threatens to overwhelm
F                                            G7              
Everything good, true, and whole and noble thought

C                                 Bb
I sing because if we forget what is our purpose is
F                                      G7
We'll never find the end to this maze of hopelessness

Questions Hanging

It hung there in the air.

Suspended like a dust mote.

I wondered, would it fall? 

Or remain hanging above us all.

It's still there above me. 

Waiting to be resolved.

Until time passes and it fades, but never quite goes away.

My life is filled with unanswered questions. 

Hanging just above my head.

Others find a way to rub them

Until they're erased off the grid

Yet somehow I've never wanted to do the same 

Because what if someday I find...The answer to a question I had. But no longer have the question in mind?

So there they gather, an eclectic clutter.

Some deep, some dark, some light, some old

There they hang. Above us all. Everytime I say hello.

I'll wonder, and the question will glow. Until someday it's light is too dim, to even register in sight.

A Good Day

A Good Day.
Is a day.
That follows the rain.
By rain I mean pain. Sorrow. Suffering. Hurt. Disappointment.
You know.

A Good Day.
Is a day.
Unlike any other day.
Because it's what follows the storm.
The sun shines brighter, of course.


A Good Day.
Is a day.
When all you hold in your hand, falls through like sand
(what a rhyme....hand and sand)

A Good Day.
Is a day.
Like today.

Because?
Well, because it holds in it something of inexpressible value.
Of uncalculated worth.

God chose to include it in the story.
The story of the world.
So of course.
it matters, it's needed.

So Here's Pain

So Here's Pain.

It came this morning. Knocking on my door.
Of course I shut the door.

Little knowing I needed what it held.

So I turned and walked into the kitchen and waved Comfort in through the back.
She told me it was alright. To sit back and relax.

We sat and chatted...comfortably of course.
She told me I was doing fine. Her words were soft and full and sweet.

Then Pain came banging on the window. Her eyebrows tightly drawn.
Said I had a sword, sticking from my side.

Turning then to Comfort, I asked here if she'd seen.

What I had somehow missed, yet was so plain to see.

Don't worry Comfort said. Look here at this picture instead. To pull it out will hurt.
To cure it...will hurt the worst.

But somehow one can't quite relax, with a sword sticking in their side. It slowed me down (imagine that)  and I couldn't put it out of mind.

So goodbye I said to Comfort. And let pain in through the door. As she helped me pull out, that ridiculously over-sized sword.

I shouldn't have a sword in my side. How did it get there you ask?

Well, it hardly mattered right then. I just had to get it out fast.

So I got it out. And Pain stayed the night. We had some good discussions about what matters and what didn't. Turns out the sword came from one of Comforts own pillows.

Now this story hardly makes sense. But Pain doesn't make much sense either.
Sorrow and Suffering too. Another language they speak those two.
But today I just think it's good to remember. That Pain has a purpose, a mission to do. Reminding me of swords in my side.

Now that's something Comfort can't do.

Be brittle?

Be brittle?

No you'll break.

Be bitter?

again it's the same.

Your mind, your heart, your words, your song

needs suppleness behind it all

grace to let it bend

and snap back

into place. 

The Problem of Pain & The Quest for Truth

I realized something today. And for me it was quite profound.

Jesus, when he was on earth, could have avoided sadness, pain, sorrow, and the sickness of this world. He could have avoided feeling all of those oppressive emotions.

He didn't avoid them. John 11:30 "Jesus wept."

Whenever I feel anything remotely negative I immediately try to cheer myself up. Or make those negative feelings go away. It makes sense in a way. If something is hurting you try to make the pain stop.

Emotions are more complex. They are oppressive but they are these little red flags. Telling us something is not right. When we cease to feel we become desensitized. We should feel oppressed by the darkness of the world. It's not right. It shouldn't feel right.

So how did Jesus deal with the darkness? He went to God. He turned on a light. He prayed. And prayed some more. He sought God with all his heart and worshipped him. He still felt the pain though.

I'm going to continue exploring this problem. The problem of pain. Why does God allow us to experience such intense suffering, both emotional and physical? I know Jesus warned us we would. Yet I still struggle with it.

It might be worth noting at this point that awhile ago I prayed that God would increase my faith and trust in him. In fact I have been praying for that a lot recently. I do believe, that God is answering my prayer. I've been having more doubts, but trust and faith aren't passive. You can't grow them through complacency or comforts. They are only grown in toil, doubts, and struggles. God loves me. That is the one thing I know with absolute certainty. I choose to stake everything I have on that. That is my axiom, the starting point I shall use as I embark on this journey.

The journey for truth. I don't want to settle for platitudes. I don't want to cover up my doubts or shove them in the corner. I am going to wrestle with them. It is time to discover what is real, and what is not.

Ski Poles and Death

When I hear that someone has died it feels like someone has handed me a pair of skis to carry.
It's awkward, I don't know whether to carry them over my shoulder or in my arms.
They keep slipping out and hitting me in the shins when I carry them in my arms. And when I balance them across my shoulder I end up hitting people with the ends. So I keep trying different ways, but none of them quite works.

Hearing that someone has died is this unmanageable, difficult, and strange load to carry. I don't know whether to leave it lying where I found it, hurl it in the opposite direction or carry it. If I should carry it, then how?

Regardless, if I choose to carry them now or later, I will have to carry this. If not now I'll be forced to come back and take it up later. I don't want that. So I choose to carry it now.

Come in!

Come in!
Grab a glass of water.
That mug over there will do.

Come in!
And say hello!
How are you?
Are you happy or are you sad?
Here listen to this song, take a cookie and settle down.

I want to hear everything. Every thing you have to say.

Am I smiling?
You're smiling too.
Because it is good to see you.

I can't wait for you to stay. Until things are like they were. But different.

New and old mixed together like chocolate and caramel.

Come in!
Take a seat. You look beat. Not good at all.
Spill it out and let me share whatever it is you carry.
And here hold what I have instead.

A letter, I read, from a friend about her cat who got stuck in a Church pew.
And couldn't stop meowing too, and everyone wondered where the sound came from.
As they tried to hear the sermon.

Come in!
Collapse on that chair over there.
You're back again, what does it take to make you stay away?
I wink, because no matter how you annoy I'm glad that I get to complain to you and not someone else.

Come in!
It's been far too long, my friend.
I say those words with love, in place of the oh so glorious hug.
People say I'm not affectionate. But if you open your eyes to see. You'd hear what I mean when I say my friend. 

Kenneth Hampton

Here is a story about a man named Kenneth Hampton.

A man of few wants and simple pleasures. He drank coffee and the Montana mornings. Although that sounds too poetic. He did love Montana though. In the morning he ate a hearty breakfast. He went to work, played the guitar. Told too many jokes to count. He loved a good burger. Hardy's Burgers just about hit the spot.
His emails were short but not sweet. Instead they were savory like his favorite burgers. Simple but they hit the spot.

"How are you?"

"How's Elisa the Actress?"

"How's my favorite grandaughter?"
Okay, he didn't say that last one. Because he actually had a lot of grandaughters. Too many to have one favorite. And he had lots of grandsons. And he had three fantastic children.

They each took up his arts.

All three took up music. And all three took up his sense of humor in a way. Especially the last one, he's got it to the core.

Was he stubborn? Stubborn as heck. And so was his wife, my grandma. Both so stubborn but I do believe they loved each other. Despite their fights, despite their differences, despite everything they ever said- they loved each other. That makes me wonder what he's going to say when he sees her in heaven.

Boy, I'd love to be there for that.

So there's been talk about him kicking the bucket for awhile. But like I said, he's stubborn (as heck). He held out through a lot. But I'm not going to talk about that, because it's done. He's through the worst of it and come out the other side. He did good.

Here's to Hope!

Here's to Hope!
Vibrant, persistent, unflagging, nagging, unquenchable, untamable hope.

Here's to LIFE!

The life God has given me! The life God has given you!

The pain, the hurt, the anguish, the doubts, the fears, the healing, the growth, the joy, the faith, the courage we find.

Here's to God's Promises!

Which your doubts can't change. Which lies can't change. Which your fear can't change. Which anything and everything that could ever be can never change.

Here's to a FRESH start!

Take a deep breath. Does it feel good? Do you feel unworthy? I do. But hey God knows what he's doing, just hold on tight.

Here's to LOVE!

God's love. Which builds and heals and mends and cures and saves and cleanses, redeems, remakes, and causes us to live.

Here's to PURPOSE!

God's Kingdom. This is not the end. This is not what will be. The world is under construction, being remade into God's Kingdom.

And dang. Isn't that an amazing reason to hope, to live, to dream?

Here's to this moment!

Awful or Great. Mundane or a Revelation. It is what it is. So see what God can do.

Watch and see what God WILL do.

Rain or Shine

Sometimes when its cold it's good to remember what it feels like to be warm.

You shouldn't trick yourself into thinking it's warm when it isn't-- that's called hypothermia and is quite dangerous.

Similarly, if you're sad or depressed you shouldn't trick yourself into being happy. Don't lie and say life is fine. And don't lie and say that everything is horrible and life will never be good again.

Its ironic that we say that. 

"Life is bad." or "life is good."

No. Life is neither good nor bad. It simply is. It is us, and our situations who are good or bad. It is us and our actions that can bear the label "good" or "bad."

Thankfully we don't have to go around carrying those labels. Instead I bear the label "righteous." 

Well, you might say I don't deserve to carry around that nametag. My friend Jesus, who did deserve very much, gave it to me. And since he deserves it he has the right to wear it and give it to whomever he chooses.

I'm rambling. Back to my point. Remember good times and bad times equally. Don't let yourself be bogged down, remember what the sunshine feels like when it's raining and remember the cool beautiful feel of the rain when it's blazing hot.

Change

Poetry is like cleaning a closet.

It lets me pull everything out and see what exactly is crammed into my soul

I can throw away the bad

Recycle the okay

And reorganize my thoughts and feelings into something manageable

Then once I've pulled the mess out and sorted through everything

I can replace it back into a neat tidy arrangement

That's how I wish it worked.

More often I pull everything out, look at it, and cram it back in largely untouched and even messier than before. 

God- he's the only deep cleaner. The only true housekeeper of my soul. The only one who can undo all the knots. The only one who can clean the stains on the shelves and carpet. The only one who can heck, tear it all down and rebuild a brand new closet. Brand new wood, brand new shelves, brand new carpet, brand new lights, and doors and doorknobs. Everything bright and clean and durable. 

And on the shelves books, but only the books I need. Instead of a pile of old clothes and string and necklaces and games and half folded jeans and boxes filled with who knows what. 

Well instead of all that junk that I thought I needed so much I just have what I need.

A couple of books, a pair of shoes, a coat to stay warm, a brightly colored box, and a beautiful gray rock.

Now looking at it, I wondered why I would ever want to go back to the old closet. The one filled with stains and messes and untied knots and boxes and boxes of rubbish. 

So here I am sitting in my old closet, wondering how in the world it will ever be like this brand new closet God showed me in a  picture. His promise of what his rennovations will look like once complete.

He's already started but, I keep stopping him and shoving back my old things onto the shelves. 

I guess I thought that would stop him. That somehow I, with my mistakes could prevent the creator of the universe from building something new. That somehow I am not doing enough to let him change me. I'm not praying enough, otherwise I would have changed already. Wouldn't I?

But tonight is late. And I am tired. And God has forgiven me. That's all I need. And heck, haha he created the world. Of course he is changing me. God's got this. 

Honesty

It's like a opening a window and letting in a fresh breeze
It clears the stink and musty smell of a room

It helps you gain perspective
On how to go on from here

"I'd like a little honesty." I say.

But that's a lie.

What I really mean: "I'd like complete and utter overwhelming honesty, all the honesty in the world if you please."

But again that's a lie.

Cause if I wanted honesty.
I'd be honest with myself. The reason I keep listening. Is not because I'm kind.
Somewhere deep inside, I want to believe the lies. Indulge in the instantaneous gratification they afford.

Even if later it makes me hurt.

Because here I say I'd like a fresh breeze in my face.

When all I ever had to do, was open the window.


Song Version:

Chorus 1: 
It's like opening a window
and letting in a fresh breeze
It clears the stale, musty smell of a room

It helps you gain perspective
On how to go on from here

I'd like a little. I'd like a little honesty I say.

Chorus 2:
It's like walking on a cold day
after a warm fire

It gets your blood pumping in your veins.

It helps you remember. What it is you used to be.

I'd  like a little. I'd like a little honesty I say.

Chorus 3:
It's like pulling off a bandaid.
Or feeling something sting.

The pain helps remind you of what still needs to heal.

It helps you not ignore things. Like wounds that need to be tended to.

I'd like a little. I'd like a little honesty I say.


Verse 1:
But that's a lie.

What I really mean.
I'd like complete and overwhelmingy honesty.
all the honesty in the world.
for everyone but me.

Verse 2:
But again that's a lie.
Cause if I wanted honesty.
I'd be honest with myself.
The reason I keep listening. Is not because I'm kind.
Somewhere deep inside, I want to believe the lies.

Bridge:
Because here I say I'd like a fresh breeze in my face.

When all I ever had to do, was open the window.

Sick on Half Truths

Hebrews 12:11-13 “All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness. 12Therefore, strengthen the hands that are weak and the knees that are feeble, 13and make straight paths for your feet, so that the limb which is lame may not be put out of joint, but rather be healed.”

There are different ways to process life: throwing pity parties, (a personal favorite of mine), ignoring the problem…or find the humour in it. (And yes I just spelled that with a “u” it’s the British way of spelling it mind you).

Vulgarity. I hear that word and I think of vultures and a putrid smelling, moldy container of food left in the fridge too long.

Eww like the food I kept in my fridge. I was hoping to eat it eventually but it went bad. It stunk up my whole dorm room when I opened the fridge to throw it out. I had to throw open the windows and door to get rid of the smell. It’s very hard to get rid of smells they cling.

It is 9:41 and I am in/on the Sky Bridge in Western Washington University’s library. The people around me are sucking up every bit of sanity they can gather and trying to absorb every last lick of material into their already information saturated brains. But if we were to be honest, many of my fellow student’s brains are saturated with more than just information from classes. Every day we are squeezed of hope and wrung out of any aspiration or inclination to lift up our eyes. Then we are soaked in despair, and small ingratiating habits and ideas. They stick us with a thousand poisonous words and ideas. And everyone is drowning and pulling and grasping anyone around them. Pulling them down whilst trying to pull themselves up. And if nothing else at least pulling others down with them so that they won’t be alone in their pits. 

I sound very bitter don’t I? I make it sound extremely depressing. Like we are all in prison or being held and tortured against our will. Instead we are fed thousands of little lies, harmless, naïve, gray, and unstable half-truths and deceptions wrapped in partial truth. And we are all sick.

Well I was.

It’s really hard. I get hungry and they are continually offering these little lies wrapped in partial truths.

But today was beautiful. And I’m not stuck. God pulled me out of the pit.

It feels so good to breath clean air. To know truth, to receive a taste of something pure and good.
I’m pretty wretched. The worst of sinners. And I messed up again today. I’m stuck in a cycle of sin. And keep letting myself getting sucked back in.

But every time God pulls me out and sets me on my feet again. And doesn’t just set me on my feet, but He’s been training me too. He’s been strengthening my feeble arms and weak knees. Showing me how to defend against these attacks. Showing me how to focus on loving and acting out my faith in obedience. Teaching me not to live in fear.  I’m so afraid of failing again. Of walking back into this disgusting pit again. But God is so patient. He has rescued me every single time. 

Why should I be afraid? Why should I be hopeless? God is my strength and my song. 

Good Food is a Smile on My Face

Good food
Makes people smile
gives them energy

takes away hunger

I don't know a better way to worship
than baking someone cookies

using what we've been given

to make something delicious
and share with someone else

to create

and make

and dream

and live

to grow

and lift our faces to the sun

He compared us to trees

So let's send down our roots.

The storm will come
So let's soak in the sun

Each day is complete in itself.
Today is no less nor more than it should be.

Longing

Have I always lived with this longing?
Like something constantly tugging, and pulling me away from contentment.
A restlessness I wish I could still.

Like the ocean pulling in and out
It constantly beats on the shore.

But maybe this life is not meant to fill
And yet in you God.
I find a peace.
A rhythm to the movement
A peace within the waves