Sunday, August 1, 2010

2: 57 AM



My clock tells me to go to bed. It never did tell me things that I wanted to hear. It chirps and chirps trying so hard to change the way I function. It works most days. I have to get up. I have to get in that shower and make myself presentable. I have to wreak of confidence and security. But I don't. I am not confident in much, except that I love my wife and kids. I love my church through thick and thin. I love my brothers. I love the way God has changed the way I see things and people, and I love the way God makes things good for those that love Him even when it hurts.

Growing up, there were times of fear and worry. Time to move again. Time to change schools. Time to make new friends. But in every school, in every city, I made friends. I always had someone. I was never physically alone. Whenever I needed anything, I found something, someone.

It was during some really dark days that I found Will and Joe (The Body and Gumby to you). God gave me people that would die for me. He gave me siblings closer than any other brothers. He gave me a little bit of Himself in those two guys. Most mornings I woke at the foot of Will's bed, just beneath his behemoth foot that bounced above my face. He would say things in his sleep. I could never decipher the words, but he was saying something. Something terribly important if not just terrible. Now he whispers things in my ears as I sleep. Not literally, I do not believe in ghosts, but really do think we can learn from everything and everyone. Sometimes I think he passed his broken heart to me, or me to him. I don't know. But I miss watching those rockets soar into the sky. I miss the reflection in his eyes as he watched his work reach above the night sky into the unknown.








Sing.
Migrate.





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