Monday, August 20, 2018

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.



Thursday, August 16, 2018

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. 

Friday, February 23, 2018

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.

Tuesday, December 19, 2017

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.