Nothing says something

a thousand times when words have been needed, they've been unspoken.

when action was urgent, it was inaction.

where love was starving, it was left hungry another day.

is that to say, nothing says nothing?

no. nothing says something.

nothing says "i am afraid", "i don't want to", "i worry", "i am not the

one...", "someone else would be better...".

inaction, means action.

the action of not acting.

in the silence, in the still, in the winter death of inaction,

choices are made, acted upon, lived out.

silence is not silent forever.

and maybe it screams out more than we know.

it is my prayer for sinners like me,

who say they want change, who say they want to love others

and show Jesus' love alive in their lives

for the whole world to see. it is my prayer,

for you who try and keep failing, who get up to be knocked down.

who gasp for air amid the smog of your own struggles,

trust God. trust Jesus' blood to carry you not only from

condemnation but through tribulation. trust, and live.

trust, and act. for inaction speaks volumes.

i forget that i am on display for the world to see...

Good morning, sun.

there are some things, like genetics, which i am glad pass on to the next generation.
things like enjoying a cup of coffee in the mornings.
if i did not have fond memories of watching my mom drink coffee every morning, i don't think i would much care for it, myself.
strangely, because it reminds me of being small, i like it.
i love sunny days, because i remember flying kites - those cheap 50 cent ones that'd break after about an hour - and running with my sister.
if my dad didn't so enjoy driving and talking, i should think that i wouldn't enjoy it very much at all - but, because i remember those things, all the times that i spent with people i love... i love those things now.
when you get older, people still ask you the same questions they've been asking you all your life: "what do you want to be when you grow up?" but the twist is that this time, you need a realistic answer. Doctors, lawyers, astronauts, and superhero-people, are all fine and good, but now it's time to be serious.
but, i don't want to forget what it means to dream.
i don't want to lost sight of enjoying the simple beauties of this life God has created; only to chase after a vocation because i am supposed to.
the twist is, i don't want to sit on my butt, either.
i want to live to the glory of The Only God, who made me.
and i want to remember what it is to dream, to run in the sunshine, to enjoy people's company and not just be there, but to BE there - not somewhere else in thought and desire.
hello new year, i am ready to be small.

Routine

it's kind of humorous to me (kind of)
how terrifying routines are to me.
the way i fight outside of reason
to keep from being placed inside of a box of obligation.
only to find that i'd done it to myself long ago.

it's interesting to wake up to the same thoughts
every day. the same worries, the same dreams.
but they never progress, they never change.
i move along all day long, and never go anywhere.
and i blame everything else but me.

it's sobering to see the rapidity of life.
how fast it comes, and how quickly it's slipping away.
how it is actually possibly to sleep away your life.
to live in a dream world of safe routine,
only to wake up a life-time later to the end.

i don't want my recycled moments of safety.
the familiar, easy, tried.
i don't want to make it through to the end
and not have cried, fought, worked for what i love.
i don't want to wake up in the arms of GOD and feel that i hadn't done enough.

How long my GOD?

if the mountains were crumbling all around,
and the hill sides were melting like wax.
but only that those without were well,
then i know i would be fine.
GOD, smite me.
take me.
may life hurl it's insults upon me.
for i know there is not a pain in this world,
that is not my own fault.
but, O my God, spare; do not allow,
do not allow sin to smother those around me,
and me to only stand by and watch.
i cannot watch, O God.
come quickly, and with You,
bring healing.
come quickly, and shed Your light.
hurry swiftly to these smoldering lands,
and save Your remnant.
only, God, may i live to fight for You,
and may i die also fighting for You.

What is Enough?

The weight of uncertainty, the pull of productivity.
The things that spin out of the control of your hands.
The things we cannot change. The things we wish we could.
No one wakes up and hopes things to go this way.
Everything's so critical, so busy, you feel lost.
Maybe no one asks you how you're doing.
But maybe you wouldn't tell them anyway.
And it's a release you say you need.
I wish I could protect you, and bring back parts of your life.
To retract things you never should have had do see or feel.
I wish sin didn't wound so deep.
And that deeper wounds weren't used to compensate.
I just want for you to believe the Truth.
To hear the Gospel, as it was always for you.
To see the wounds that took your place.
Only Jesus' pain and suffering bring change, bring peace.
God, we're so broken.
Jesus, we're fractured into a thousand pieces.
Abba, when will the pain stop?
When will the sun rise again?

Honesty

maybe i'm just cynical, but let's not kid ourselves.
you think you hurt now?
just wait, it can get worse.
you thought that was the worse case scenario?
just wait, you'll see worse.
they "never saw it coming"
that is, until it came.
present things are difficult,
until they are in the past.
this whole life seems to be a giant pyramid
reaching an apex in living against the odds of the
impossible, improbable and insufferable.
and those that are very well near done,
somehow have the ability to smile.
and so it must be, that while this life is on an incline of pain,
suffering, sin and sorrow;
there must be something greater hereafter.
a something that far outweighs,
and even negates the pain of the present.
taking the pain and wiping it away with good.
so let's be honest,
this isn't as good as it gets.

a-changing

life moves on
in its steady whirlwind,
keeping the past just close enough to remember -
- with echoes of eternity leading ahead.
we use numbers, schedules and fashion to tell time.
HE who sits on the Throne has chosen a different way.
His fingers paint colors resplendent with vivacity.
vitality traces every outline.
we turn a page.
He turns a season.
we grow a year older,
He works miracles which grow a man more than time.
the climax of our seasons is the absence of life.
resurrected by the miracle of Spring.
the return of the sun.
the beginning of all things new.
it's merciful, is it not,
that each year begins with brand new life.
that the old, dead things are left in another time.
it is only memories which are not so merciful.
time is still turning.
slowly, surely, fully -- it comes,
singing, dancing, shouting;
crying, mourning, sighing.
another page is a-turning,
what change do you see?