Because Jesus Was Here

And my faith will be my eyes. - Chris Tomlin

It isn't easy to live this way. It takes sometimes, all of your strength to press on in the direction of the current when every dashing wave is pushing you back. It sometimes, maybe even mostly doesn't even make any sense. It takes plenty of falls for someone to realize their eyesight is bad. We don't like to admit it, and we don't like to wear glasses or rely on something other than what is kept in that skeletal ball above our shoulders. So we fall while relying on ourselves to get to the right destination, and we get hurt and so remind ourselves that we are not very sharp in vision and are clumsy in life. But tomorrow is a different day. The sun goes down on our mistakes and our eyes blink open to the sun peeking through the shades and everything is new again. That is the beauty of grace. We don't have to live in yesterdays mistakes, we may have to live with some consequences of those mistakes, but we do not have to hold on to the guilt or terror that they bring. We really can start over.

Eventually, I think we finally learn how to close these eyes and blindly follow a Savior that we have seen faithful our entire lives. I think we do eventually learn to let go and let faith in our God lead us in the path we are supposed to go in. When I say, let faith in God lead us, I do not at all mean that faith is anything mystical at all, but that the God we have the faith in is faithful. We have faith because we understand what it is He sees in us.

He does not see what we see. We see with these same eyes that have failed us over and over again. He sees clearly at who we really are, then He forgives us for that. Erases what we used to be, and makes us new again. We don't have to be what we used to be. When I say used to be, I also mean what you were 5 minutes ago when you messed up. Maybe you lost your temper and lash out at your wife and kids. Said horrible things you don't mean. Maybe you just got off of the computer after falling victim to predator internet sites. Maybe you really thought you couldn't live without that pill or that pipe.  We can go on dancing in public. We can go on singing in joy and living the art that God has made you with. Because Jesus was here.

Every moment of life trusted in Christ is a forgiven moment.






Sing.
Migrate.








To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

The Wailing Wall

In Israel there is this stone barrier that separated the Jews from their hearts. The wailing wall. It was a place that signified the separation from their temple to their God. They had been banned. During the reign of Constantine I, the Jews were apparently aloud to come to this wall once a year to grieve the fate of their people.

I read about that in my church history book and it is printed in black and white, written like a textbook for anyone to easily gloss over and fall asleep to. But it is called the wailing wall, not the depression wall, not the regret wall, not the nostalgic wall. This was a place of real mourning and pain. The pain you experience when you have to endure the loss of something or someone you never could have imagined being without. It isn't a sad place to be, it is a miserable place to be. Yet it is printed without life in some textbook that only few will ever read about.

I think I have a few wailing walls myself, and I think many of us do. Places we go to grieve the loss of something that was taken from us, our innocence, our hope, or our security. We are busy. It sits inside the cellar waiting for us to open the door. We rarely do because it causes too much pain to do so. But when we do, when we cannot take one more minute of neglecting it, we go down there and sit. We let all of that stuff come out finally. Maybe once a year, maybe a dozen times, but every time, we are glad we did, because there is a time for mourning. I think people need to remember that the Bible tells us that there is a time for mourning. It goes on to say: James 4:9 Grieve, mourn and wail. Change your laughter to mourning and your joy to gloom. Life as a believer in your one and only Savior Jesus, is not always peaches and sunshine. It doesn't mean that life is now going to take it easy on you. God is not going to protect you from every violent accident or deadly virus. God gives us hope in something better than what we have here, something that is lasting and real. Something that man could never touch. But He does not offers us wonderful lives of peace and laughter here. For some, being a Christian means offering their bodies to the wolves to be eaten and stomped on. Is it fair? Yes, it is. We deserve worse, but isn't that what Jesus is really about. Redemption from what we really deserve?

We don't have to pretend that we are all just fine. Some people are and have been blessed since birth with the graces of God for His own purposes and others have not had the same life experience. If it hurts, it hurts. If you are a Christian, it still hurts. Because pain is pain. But realize in your pain that God has more than you do. We hurt because we lost a friend or relative to a disease, well God has more pain because He didn't intend for people to have to die. We feel pain for losing half of our hearts to a friend who lost his way, well God weeps louder than you. He grieves too. Remember that it isn't God that invented sin, it was us. This sin is what causes loss all over the world. All over, there are people's wailing walls. We have to drive by them sometimes daily and remember the weight that is sitting on the bottom side end of our hearts. The mothers of terrorists cry for the loss of their children too, just as we do. Pain is a universal trait that was born into us the moment we emerged from our mothers. Remembering where hope lies is the key to happiness and peace. The only key.










Sing. 
Migrate.

To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

Paid To Smile

 Just look away and smile. That is usually my advice when dealing with things you cannot control pushing against you. People get paid to smile. Waitresses, bank tellers, DMV workers (or not), exotic dancers, lawyers, health care professionals, pastors, and just about every other profession that has to deal with the public. Except telemarketers, they don't have to smile. Why? Because people want to be treated like their presence is desired. They want validation of themselves and worthy of another's time and effort. If we were to frown at them, they would take that as displeasure that they are standing in front of us. So even when they are being difficult, we smile, or at least we should. Because what is the point in moping around right? What is the point of wearing your feelings on your face all the time. This is why I think mind reading would be a miserable super power. You would find out too much about what that person thinks about you. If we wear our feelings on our faces, we tell others things that are not going to help them enjoy life and see Christ.

I am not an advocate of fake. I hate fake. I became a master at it, but I always hated it. But holding back things that destroy is not being fake. Smiling when nothing is in your control is realizing that God still is in control. We smile because God works things out for those that love Him. If someone is against you, God will not let you be destroyed.

I think this is why Jesus said to turn the other cheek. Because if someone is going to slap you, you might not see it coming in time to duck, so why not take the slap and give the other cheek too, because greater is He who is in you than in the world. What can man really do to us. Kill us? Ok, that's still good because we have eternity with God, although our kids might be mad. God is huge and works in very mysterious ways. God uses our control for His benefit. He gave it to us, so we can be symbols of the risen Christ. The same God that hung on the cross and prayed for His murderers.

Just smile. Even if you don't get paid, because life is short. We are a mist that appears for a while then vanishes into thin air. What kid of life do you want to leave behind?


Sometimes laughter is all we really have to control. Even when things are terrible and you are in misery. There are still those little things that touch is in a way that can give us an isolated moment of escape. A funny movie, a friend who knows how to change your mood, or music that makes you want to dance.










Sing.
Migrate.

To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

Whammy!

I thank God every few months for the learning curve some of us need. Some people get it right away and don't forget it. Others like me get it, then forget it, then get it, then forget it in circles until we stumble.

Sometimes I need a pinched nerve in my neck for a week to remind me of the blessings God has lavished on me. To remind me that I am in control of nothing. Things get really busy and at times I don't think I can continue, but then comes an SUV to knock some sense into me, or nerve damage, or pressure from outside forces. They remind me that I am losing my way. I am wandering aimlessly and have forgotten to follow the cloak of Christ closely so I don't lose him in the noise.


So I find a happy place and go there to black out that noise. To get alone with my God. Apologize for forgetting about Him from day to day, throw my burdens on Him, and rest easy in the truth that God has me firmly in His hand. God is not trying to trick me, He isn't testing me because He delights in watching me fail time and time again. He tests me because if He doesn't I may forget about my need for Him altogether. The simple truth is that I cannot even breathe without Him. I have nothing. Nothing. I am a pauper, and a vagrant. I am helpless to care for myself, much less my family. He is everything that has ever been any good in me. Forgetting about that is like forgetting you are blind and trying to drive. I will crash every time. And so will you.







Sing.
Migrate.

To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

God's Story

What is this blog. Is it a "Christian" blog, made for Christians to read and grow with? Is it a blog for broken people searching for something different than what is in front of their faces? Is it entertainment to watch a guy break apart over electric lights and ideas?

I remember walking. I was drunk. I was walking. I had this bottle in my hand that I had almost finished. I was walking to this church at midnight. I dropped that bottle now empty and walked into that church for the last time. I stepped into that confession booth and told the guy everything I could remember doing wrong. I told him my entire life story over the last few months. I had walked these streets every night alone, looking for a way out of what I thought I knew to be the only real way to escape. This night, I knew there was no escape from a world that hates you. So I told him everything. He was alarmed. Anyone would be. I told him I didn't want to go to hell, but I believed it was my destiny. I had seen enough. I had heartbreak worse than I can even remember now. It hurt too bad.

I left and went to the tracks. That night, I saw God present in my life for the first time.

I don't know what this blog is. I started it as a way to express the things going on inside me. I wrote and wrote. Things happened that changed me, both for the bad and for the good, but I like to think it all has led to the good.

People I don't know read it. It is a weird thing if you think about it. People you have never met reading what is festering inside your head. Reading about the lessons you have learned from 15 years of heartbreak. Most people just like drama. I get it, I do too.

But I think the real issue here is that people who read forget that the person behind those letters typed with tears is a real live person. A person that is fragile and expressing their most cherished memories.

I write because I want people to see the truth. I have lived lies my whole life and finally want people to see what a real live broken person looks like and hopefully see what a real live God working in him looks like.

I am God's story. So are you.









Sing.
Migrate.

To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

Dancing

You can stand in church and raise your hands, and it won't mean anything. You can fall on your face in humility and surrender yourself to God helpless before him, and it will be pointless. You can spend most of your day in quality time praying and reading your Bible and it will mean nothing to God. You can surrender your time and money into helping the poor and orphans and it won't even blip on God's radar.


Without love.



Too many Christians are trying to function in a Christian life, doing all of the Christian things; observing all the right holidays, spending their time in worship and prayer, yet treat others harshly with no regard that they are humans.

We are humans, we are not programs.


God put superior importance on loving each other because that is precisely the closest thing to who He really is. The only way we can mimic Him. Without love, there isn't a thing we can do to make God smile. There isn't a thing we can do that will have any meaning at all. We will be just making noise and following impotent dance steps with ourselves. Life is a dance that requires passion, not static cognition of the right moves: That would look like a robot dancing. It takes grace, passion, and most of all love to live a life that has real meaning. It requires compassion, grace, humility, and perseverance.

I have been mistreated a lot throughout the years, some by people I love dearly and serve with all my heart. It has caused anxiety and sadness and hurts every time. But pain and anger doesn't fix anything, it exasperates the problem.

I have been kicked in the teeth this year. I don't have the energy or desire to fight or to let little annoyances eat at me. I am glad of this because I shouldn't have been letting those things get to me anyways. God is for me. I repeat that daily lately when trying to remind myself that opposition has no chance. God works things for my own good because I love Him and try to follow Him faithfully. A loving human being loves other human beings, even when they are being turds.









Sing.
Migrate.








To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

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.

To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

Schematics

I don't think there is a paper design to life. There is no real set of protocols and policies on how to deal with the things that rip into you. Situations lead to reactions, some reactions are wise and smart and good, others are none of those things. We are bound to make some errors in judgment. We are bound to make choices, good or bad, that will strap themselves to our backs or tape themselves to our foreheads. It is life. Everyone's brain works in different ways. This is the beauty of God's design I think. We are all the same, in that we are created, similar in appearance, similar in emotional make-up and DNA; but we are all so very different. Our past experiences and the marks they leave on us direct our instincts.


So do not drop the hammer on everyone that does things different.






Sing.
Migrate.

To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

Integrigratuitous

In multiple discussions with my wife, friends, lectures at my school,  and observing the actions of people around me, the issue of integrity has been brought to the surface.

I ask you first, to define for yourself integrity. What does it mean? What should it look like?


For me, integrity means two very important things: 1. Making the moral and correct choice especially when no one is watching you. 2. When you say something, you put your actions behind it. If you make a commitment, you fulfill that commitment as a promise to God himself.

Unfortunately, at least in my opinion, commitments don't mean much to many people. Vows at a wedding, promises to a child, actions to the one's you are supposed to love most, dedication to our Church and to our family extended throughout the world, and commitment to follow Christ by taking up our crosses and following Him. None of these commitments are easy to stick to. All of them suck at some point or another, but isn't that the reason a commitment means something? Because we know that is means something, that is is important. When someone makes a vow to us, it puts our minds at ease, knowing that the other person is serious and is dedicating themselves to it. But if the fabric of how we feel and live with our commitments is shallow and unintentional, that peace of mind is void. We learn to be distrusting of any person when they say anything. Because we have been let down so many times.

I bet we all can count more people who have broken vows than kept them. This is sad. I have broken some too. There have been things I have told myself I wasn't going to do, and ended up right in that place with a decision to make, and often to my shame, I have made the wrong one. I think integrity is one of the biggest ways to show Christ and to express His love to others. Jesus stood by His commitment to us, His commitment to die and His commitment to raise again and make our lives wonderful. When we reflect this behavior and mindset, we show a very big part of what Jesus was to others. We give them peace of mind.








Sing.
Migrate.





To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

Eternity

“He has also set eternity in the hearts of men.”  Ecclesiastes 3:11

One of my favorite scenes of any movie was in AI, when the little robot kid that wanted to be a real boy traveled to the bottom of the flooded earth to find the blue fairy to make him human. A Ferris wheel falls over beneath the sea and traps him for an eternity staring and longing for the magic of that blue fairy, whom he could only stare at and wish to.


We were always meant to be eternal beings. We were made to love eternally and think eternally. Most importantly, for us, we were made to live eternally. Even if that means Heaven awaits, I don't think that Heaven is the only eternity we were meant to experience. We aren't waiting for things to happen, to get old and die in our sleep and finally get what we have always longed for...to be a complete and whole child of God.  I think that God desires that we live with eternity in mind right now. To make choices and thoughts based on eternal love and eternal consequences.

That can be a tall task when we can't get past the thing that keeps us broken, right here, right now. Something holds us down. Something keeps us longing for something we can never have... something phony and fake. Regret. Hate. Jealousy. Anger. Lust. Greed. Could be the time you let that friend drive when you shouldn't have and lost him forever. Could be that rage that eats you when you think of your dad. Could be having to watch the one you love, loving another person. Could be a failed marriage. Could be rejection. Could be the insecurity that comes with being abandoned again and again. And maybe we just can't get it right. For me it is my missed opportunities to save one of the very few people who meant something to me at a time that nothing at all mattered.

Jesus didn't die so that we could live with regret. He didn't give us the tools to build a tent and pitch it in misery. He came so that we could have life and have it to the fullest. That means He knew full well that we would still sin and mess up and miss things, yet He died anyway at our hands. So we could be free.

Imagine the joy of a slave just freed. Imagine the happiness of a leper just healed. Imagine the hysterical glee of a prisoner pardoned for no reason at all, just because. This is what He came to do. However, many of those slaves stayed put in slavery. Those lepers got sick and died again. That prisoner may have gone right out and offended again. This is disappointment. That harsh empty feeling in your stomach when it drops. When all of your excitement is stripped away, all of that joy turned to sorrow. Get disappointed too much and you are liable to stop getting excited about anything. We will start living life waiting for the worst to happen. Or just disengage.

I think that is where Will really got mixed up. He got hurt so much. He left it all out on the table and it got trampled right before his eyes. He wanted something better and longed for something that wasn't happening. So he gave up, trapped at the bottom of the sea waiting on that blue fairy. I think what he missed was the amount of love that circled around him. The number of people that would give their own heads for his. I think he forgot what eternity looked like lived right here, right now. I am so happy that he knows it now. That he is dancing and shouting and laughing. He has what he had always longed for. He is whole.

That thought helps me remember to get back up and look forward. My neck hurts from looking behind for so long. If God wanted us to keep looking back, we would have eyes in the backs of our heads. Lott's wife was turned to salt for looking back at the destruction of evil. We can freeze in place too.












Sing.
Migrate.

To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

Moments

One moment can change everything. One moment with God can erase a lifetime of disbelief. One moment of sincerity can replace your entire view of another person. A moment of anger can strip you of your freedom or sink you. A moment of calm can black out all of the noise.

Living life moment to moment without planning is irresponsible. Living life guided strictly by your plans is foolish.

One lie can alter the things you believe. One smile can change a person's entire day. One kind word can save a person's life and one evil one can end it.

One of the problems with living in a busy culture is that, we don't think enough about the moments of the day. The little moments that give you an opportunity to teach. We are teachers. Whether or not you see yourself as one is irrelevant to the truth. We are all teachers. If you say you have Christ and pray for opportunities to be a light to a person in darkness, than it is important to pay attention to what your goal really is. What is the goal? I don't know, you work that out with God. Mine is to make the most of the opportunities I have to be a picture of God to someone else. If that means making them laugh, I will be a clown. If it means weeping and holding a person's hand with them, I will be in mourning. I can't tell you what your goals for each day should be, but I can tell you what they shouldn't be.

Your goal shouldn't be to get through the line as fast as you can and end your interaction with the clerk asap.

Your goal shouldn't be to bypass humanity in search of efficiency. Treating people as objects to be gotten past or tolerated is not a way to show them anything but what they see from everyone else.

A Christian should look different. Not because we need to wear Christian t-shirts or listen to worship music all day, but because our actions and lifestyle matches our faith in Christ. We go out of our way to make our moments worth something.

I wonder how many people I could have positively affected if I were paying attention. I wonder how many clues I have missed. I wonder how many people were coming to me for help or in desperate need and I missed it because I was preoccupied. I do know this...nothing is more important than loving. If we are whales looking to sing with others, than all of the sea life should hear our singing too. Maybe if they do, they follow you to the place they can finally find peace and rest.









Sing.
Migrate.

To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

In A Swing

I used to lay in this lawn swing before I was married at night. I would look up at the stars and pray for God to come and get me. I didn't feel abandoned, I just didn't feel owned. I wanted to go home. The pain in the world was too much to feel. I have never been a person who ever wanted to lose my sense of feeling. Even if it hurts, the feeling is necessary. Part of the joy in victory comes from the pain in the journey. I wanted the pain and to an extent, I still do.

I would look up at that sky and wonder about the people watching the same one at the same time. Wishing they could go home too. It is great to be a Christian. It is wonderful to know God gave his life. But it can still suck to be a human. Right here. Right now. In this world where awful things go unpunished and even encouraged, Sometimes the pain of the weight placed on us can feel to heavy.

It isn't fair. At least it doesn't seem fair that we are born into this. That we didn't get the same choice that Adam had. Some would say we do every time we sin. I would disagree. Adam knew no sin. He didn't know how seductive it was. Adam walked the beaches with God. He knew in a different way and what it meant to BE with God. He sinned anyway.

It doesn't seem fair that we all suffer for the sin of this guy. Maybe I would have done the same thing and probably would have. I just hate that I have so see a world so crippled and hurt. There has never been a people so desperate, so angry. There has never been so much selfishness and pride. People are idiots. Plain and simple. Starting with me. We know what the right thing to do is and we choose the alternative route. It may be easier, but it leads to death.

What if Adam had a vision of all the pain the world would have to go through if he took that bite? I don't think he would have. I know he wouldn't have. We don't get that luxury do we though.?  We don't get to take a look at the future and know our actions have effected others. We have to make these decisions now...without foreknowledge.  We make these choices and for better or for worse we get to live by them. Live by the gun, die by the gun. It really shows the importance of praying out your decisions. Because usually, we don't get a second shot. If we act in haste, we can effect others and can never take back our actions.








Sing.
Migrate.

To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

Throwing Flames

 "When detail lost it's freedom." Brian McBride

This is where we would write our names. This is where we would have laid down beneath the clouds and sent our hearts into the open air. Instead, something whispers miserable things in our ears as we sleep. Something fouls our dreams, disturbing our most vulnerable place.

Nature is both beautiful and cruel. We look at it as a being created that man cannot touch. It's smell and colors bring emotions we cannot control. They remind us of good times and also of bad times. Sometimes the good times are the ones that hurt more than anything we have ever felt. Because they are gone and we cannot ever get them back. Some call this regret. I don't buy it. I believe some things about life are so beautiful they are to be missed when they are gone. That is what makes life so beautiful. It's passing moments of undefined greatness and beauty. We feel things our words cannot describe and we cherish them for eternity.

It isn't ever going to go away. I can take pills. I can think of only good things. I can try my best to dwell on the blessings God has given me, which is more than anything I could have imagined. But this hole will not be filled. I am not sure it is supposed to. But I feel bad for feeling this way when millions are really going through hell. I guess that's part of the way I see things and adds to the emptiness I feel for no reason sometimes. I am never getting over Will. He has been dead now for almost 7 months and I still see him in the night when my eyes are closed. He speaks to me in my dreams, and tells me things I don't want to hear. Lost my best friend. Lost my brother. Lost a big part of who I am, or was.

I went through a short phase where I just wanted to mimic him. Got a mohawk that he was famous for. Bought skater shoes that I had never been interested in. It is over now, but I just wanted to remind myself of him all the time. Remind myself that I still had to fight for his kids. If I had died, he would die before my kids went without a positive father figure. So I will fight for them, no matter how bad it hurts. I will be silent when I need to be. And I will throw flames when protection is needed. I only hope and pray that he knows that I do it for God, for his kids, and for him.







Sing.
Migrate.

To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

Kin

Kinship. What does it mean to you? What does it really mean to be family? What should you look like when you are being a good brother or sister or father etc.? I don't think that family is limited to those with the same blood flowing through their vessels. Yes, there is the family of Christ, but there is another kind of family. There are some that you are bonded to for life. Good times and bad, you have them and they have you. Even if you piss each other off systematically and often, when push comes to shove there isn't a weapon that can keep you from them. Joe. Andy. Outside of my wife and children, there are no two people left here that I am closer to. Will is gone. But when I look at Joe, we both look different to each other, we both realize the other's pain. When I look at Andy, he looks at me the same way and he didn't know Will that well. He looks at me like that because he feels me. He hurts because I do. There is nothing on this earth more valuable than a friend that shares your hurt. Most people try to solve it and give advice. Some walk away and try to avoid you in fear of saying something to make it worse. Others overcompensate for the awkwardness and act stupid around you. Then there are the ones that step into the fire with you knowing they are about to get burned too. They walk in because the thought of not doing so would be worse than death.

The world goes on. It keeps spinning at the same speed even when you aren't traveling at full speed, or even half speed. People move on. They get over it. But not everyone. There are those that see it in our eyes. They aren't fooled by the make-up or the clown bit. They have been in it too. When you have been in it, you recognize others who have too. You see it in their eyes, because they look like yours. This society of people that have no idea how they are still moving at all. They just thank God that they are. They get kicked around for a bit, throw pity parties, listen to music that makes it worse, break things when they want to destroy something beautiful, kill any and all prospects of joy, fight every force that pushes against them, and find places that make you feel not so alone.

These brothers stand firm with me. They rally me to get back up. They put fire right back into my eyes. They hold me together. I guess, I just want to say thank you. Thank you God. Thank you Laura. Thank you Caeden and Aevry. Thank you Joe. Thank you Andy. Thank you Jo Ann. Thank you Jim. Thank you mom. Thank you to every person who has prayed for me or wept for me. I have more than one mom. I have more than one brother. And there is a guy in scrubs who has always been a father to me. Thanks.










Sing.
Migrate.





To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

Little Window

Sitting in this little story book window, in a place in Michigan I have seldom seen. I am thinking about things. Life has been different lately. Not bad or great, just different. Imagine that reply to the question, "How are you doing?" "I am doing different sir."

You can't adequately describe different with our language because different is something we haven't felt before. It is like trying to describe a taste with your prior experiences of different flavors. I can't tell you what burning tires taste like, but I can tell you what I imagine burning tires taste like by describing their smell. So here goes.

I feel like a star that keeps shining even when it fears it will burn out at any minute. I feel  like a husband who has lost his son, but retained his wife. I feel like the Prodigal Son's father just after the boy asked for his inheritence, but smiles because he knows the outcome because he's been there before. I feel at peace just before a storm comes. I see the dark clouds in the distance, but also see blue skies behind it. However I feel. I know this. God is near.


Sing.
Migrate.

To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

The Things We Left Behind (I Miss Boblo Island Part 2)

Things that used to be beautiful. They used to make music that would melt you. They would bring you right into another feeling of existence. They would remind you that we can be kids again if only by our hearts. We can remember looking over the edge of a balcony for the first time and the sick feeling you got when you imagined falling from it. We can feel again the way it felt to be new in a school and you make that first real friend. We can travel the same roads we travel so many times before and wished they would never change even an inch of their concrete DNA. Even these things fall apart.  The roads fall apart. They end up rubble. But that music. It plays forever doesn't it? You cannot take that away. No form of erosion, electric or weathered can break that music free from your heart. It holds on through all things. We may lose the places we love and have set our feet on so many times, but we won't lose what they meant to us, or who they meant to us. Without dementia, we can still go back, for a moment. We can still feel the bricks at our back and the fire at our feet. We can still hear the sound of the street lights turning on and the smell of an elementary school. We can smell our mother's sweater or our father's cologne again. We can feel his stubble on our cheeks as he hugs us. We can feel again her hands sweep across our hair as we weep. It doesn't have to be over. For a few minutes, the music can play and we can be somewhere else. Somewhere other than here.







Sing.
Migrate.

To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

Missing Boblo Island

 I used to go to Boblo Island every year. It was the highlight of my summer. The place was teeming with fanny packs and wagons, people in track shorts and friendship bracelets. It was cheap to go to, so it made it easy for us. When I was a kid, I remember wishing that Boblo Island would never be destroyed by a nuclear attack. Anywhere but here. One year I woke up to the bad news. Like a traveling carnival packed up in the night, Boblo was gone. At least it was gonna be, and a multi-million dollar housing establishment was going to take the place. A fountain where the Falling Star used to be. A pool where the Rotor once stuck me to the wall on it's spinning axis. Where I bought cotton candy, I could now buy trade options and IRAs. It was sad. I kept imagining abandonment. Walking through the large gates that surrounded it, in the parks last closed winter. The ice formed off the seats of the Ferris wheel. The carousel horses broken by vandals. I would sit down on the cold bench and enjoy it one last time before it was rubble.

It always hurts when the places of our childhood are destroyed. We hold such memories and they are renewed every time we go back. But when we go back and they are gone, we grieve a little. We can never go back. They are locked away inside of us with no hope of seeing them again. It feels a little like losing someone you love very much.

I am notorious for going back to these places. I will drive the long route just to drive by and look. If I had millions, I would buy them all, just so no one could tear them down. But I can't and I know that one day all of these places will be something else and people will make memories in their new tenants.

Please tell me about someplace dear to you that has gone away.






Sing.
Migrate.


To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

The Fail Blog

I have added another word to my list of words unrecognized on this blog. Fail. I hate it. I remember the first time I heard it, of course on Facebook. One kid posts "I am fail." I laughed, but I didn't yet know what was about to happen in my culture. Fail would become the describing word for everything, just like amazing was a couple years ago. Epic fail, and many other versions have been circulating like Myspace photos of "Duck face." Drives me crazy I think. So in honor of this banishment from my understanding of language, I will write this blog.

When was the last time you really tried at something, I mean tried with everything you had and just failed? No matter what you did and how much blood and sweat you put into it, it just seemed like it was never meant to be. It is a terrible feeling under the sun. Makes you want to hang your head and kick a can around the train tracks. Maybe is was a test or a class. Could be a marriage or relationship. Could be a job or a friendship. Whatever it is, it hurts. We are conditioned to win, not lose. There are no cheesy motivational posters that tell you the real truth. It would say, "Give everything you got. Leave nothing inside you. Then walk away with your head dangling below your neck." Then there would be a picture of some guy falling off that mountain he was climbing. You just want to throw up your hands and give up, and sometimes we do. It is demoralizing to be the laughing stock of everyone you know...to feel everyone's eyes on you when you walk through the door...to hear the whispers after you pass by. Whatever caused this sense of shame when we just can't get something right? Is it pride? Is it self respect? Is it fear? Doesn't matter I guess how it got there, but how do we survive it when it comes to you.

Perspective.

Many things are bigger than us. Bigger than our problems. Some things really just don't matter in the end or at least when we reach the end. It hurts, but it doesn't mean that thing was what God wanted for you to complete. Some things are, and because of our own stubbornness, we fail, but others are about the getting there. The heart breaking attempt. The spilling out of our guts to a bitter end sometimes is the thing God wants from us. He wants us to fight for things. He never said we would win, but He did tell us to do everything for His glory and to work as if unto Him. If we perceive a loss, it doesn't mean we lose. When we perceive a victory, it doesn't mean we won anything...we may have just lost.

Stand up. Take the bag off your head. Muster every bit of anger and disappointment in you and turn it into determination. Be determined to fight, even if it doesn't seem like a win.

So we don't seem so alone. Post a fail story in the comments.








Sing.
Migrate.

To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

Dead Spaces

 If you are a hiker you know that in the winter, it is important to heat the dead air spaces between you and the elements. This is achieved mostly by eliminating the escape of hot radiated air from your own body. I have looked into it because one of the things I must do before I die is camp in the winter in hibernating bear country. I want to find their lair and lay down for a nap with them. Just kidding on the nap and lair, but the camping I will do one of these days.

I stepped out into the slightly dark and humid air this morning. I haven't been up this early in some time. It is easy to forget how quiet these times can be. I can see why people prefer to pray in the morning. I prefer the middle of the night. Both are dead air spaces. The spaces between our bodies and the elements. In a an hour or so, the whole world around you will be up, going through daily rituals and scurrying off onto the roads that are teeming with visual vomit. Ads everywhere and people everywhere buying things and selling things. These dead spaces are quiet. They are the rare times you can watch the birds feed their babies without looking over their shoulder. The rabbits are still on the front lawn and the stray cats are still sitting under parked cars. All ready to come out and meet another loud and busy day. The dead spaces are warm when we choose not to let out the heat. When we do, they are ruined and we lose peace. The dead spaces give me the strength to stand back up after my knees have buckled. The world can be heavy and exhausting. But there are times where the hands on the clock seem to stop and everything is still. Like in the Bible when the disciples were afraid of the storm and Jesus being a master manipulator of the elements of God, says, "Peace be still," and the waves cease. I think He still desires to use those powers now when we are in turmoil.








Sing.
Migrate.


To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.

Little Feet

Tough week. A lot of dreams. A lot of anger. Feels like I am barely hanging on at times. Then I remember the little things. Even if the dreams are bad, it is still nice to see him. In real life, I only get memories. At least in the dreams I am getting something new and unique to me. I get to see him smile and look me right into my eyes.

Aevry prayed two days ago before bed for Jesus to let Will come back. I nearly threw up. Then the next day, she found an ice cube on the floor perfectly shaped like a heart. Aevry and her hearts have spoken so much to me through this. I praise my God for that.

I go to this little Catholic church a few blocks from me when I need to be alone for a while. I ran full speed a couple days ago to burn off some anger. I got there and screamed my head off. I like the statue of Mary that sits in the garden there. I always did like religious statues. Not because I think they are mystical or have any power, but because they always represent victory and dominion. A statue of Mary stepping on the serpent. Truth is as Christ paid for us, he gave us the same dominion over evil. We will prevail and for those who profess Christ, we have already. It is a nice reminder that we can't always lose and our plight here is temporary. Makes me want to keep fighting harder. To have more heart. To remember those little feet above. They are marching with me and standing with me, holding my hand. My wife and kids are weathering this with me unwilling to falter. Hit us, we will fall down and bleed, but we will get right back up and stand in your face with the strength of God. With my face in the mud, I hear their voices and I lift my head. You could never hold me down.

Sing.
Migrate.

To leave a comment, click on the specific blog title and the comment form will be at the bottom of the page.