Lonely

This is a poem I wrote when Chris was gone for a few days for a work trip.  It's kind of funny because since we got married (5/31/08), we really haven't been away from each other for longer than that.  So, just to let you all know this was the one of the first days he was gone.  It was actually kind of nice to have our place to myself...but of course I missed him.  Here is the poem:

Lonely

Tonight I am lonely

I feel a bit aimless

Unsure of who I am 

In relation to these walls

So used to contrasting myself

With you

To sharing myself, my everything

Forcefully, always, 

With you, my Love

My heart is with you, 

Though I am not

And the tension causes a pang

Of desire for your being

Not sensuous, not just physical

But your soul interrupting mine

Your stubbornness against mine

Is that strange to miss?

Ah, but that is why we are

The best of friends

excerpt from Madeline L'Engle's "Walking on Water: Reflections on Art and Faith"

I've been reading this book now for a couple of weeks, slowly...it is very good.  It is kind of like eating a really delicious food.  You want to read it in small pieces to really take in it's full flavor. 

Anyway, here is an excerpt from it:
"A friend of mine, a fine storyteller, remarked to me, 'Jesus was not a theologian.  He was a God who told stories.'
     Yes.  A God who told stories.
     St. Matthew says, 'And he spake many things unto them in parables...and without a parable spake he not unto them.'
     When the powers of this world denigrate and deny the value of story, life loses much of its meaning; and for many people in the world today, life has no meaning, one reason why every other hospital bed is for someone with mental, not a physical, illness.
     Clyde Kilby writes, "Meaninglessness inhibits fullness of life and is therefore equivalent to illness.  Meaning makes a great many things endurable---perhaps everything....It is not that 'God' is a myth, but that myth is the revelation of divine life in man.  It is not we who invent myth; rather, it speaks to us as a Word of God.'...
     When I was a child, reading Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tales, reading about Joseph and his coat of many colours and his infuriating bragging about his dreams, reading The Selfish Giant and The Book of Jonah, these diverse stories spoke to me in the same language, and I knew intuitively that they belonged to the same world.  For the world of the Bible, both the Old and the New Testaments, is the world of story, story which may be able to speak to us as a Word of God.
     The artist who is Christian, like any other Christian, is required to be in this world, but not of it.  We are to be in this world as healers, as listeners, and as servants.
     In art we are once again able to do all the things we have forgotten; we are able to walk on water; we speak to angels who call us; we move, unfettered, among the stars."
-pp.56-57
Anyone want to share their thoughts on this? 

The world without Coffee

What if there was no such thing as coffee?
Rather, what if there was no such thing as liquidated, easy to consume caffeine?

I wonder if 70% of the world would even be able to function.  If coffee/caffeine somehow became obliterated it would be worse than this recession.

:D

excerpt from my journal..."we live in ideas"

     I was thinking of something earlier today too that may be kind of profound.  I was thinking, we live in ideas.  I truly believe this.  At least, let me explain.  In essence I feel that what we think and believe map out our lives.  I believe in God's sovereignty, but, well, I guess if you look at it knowing God created every person including all their thoughts, emotions, personality, etc. it does correspond.  It just seems that everything I do or don't do is based off of some idea, thought, or belief I have about something (known or unknown to myself).  Also, I see how ideas influence our culture tremendously.
     One example of this is the thinking about homosexuality in the U.S. and how it has changed from being seen as a psychological disorder to seeming, to a great majority of Americans, just another lifestyle choice, and "normal".
     Perhaps, as it were, we are in the "age or information" and this causes ideas to be a constant driving influence on each one of us.  However, even apart from that there are people living in a tiny, remote village in Papua New Guinea who probably live their lives completely based off of a set of ideas or beliefs.  It touches every part of their lives and each decision they make.  They are probably much more honest with themselves about this than our hurried individualized American culture allows us to be.
     So, in all this, I acknowledge God as Creator who seems to guide us in these floods of ideas and beliefs.  This intuition is why I bend toward the philosophical and theological.  God, I pray you would lead me in my thoughts, in my feelings, in my beliefs and ideas.  I want them to match with reality (as you formed it) as much as possible so I can live my life most fully.  Thank you, God, for creating everything amazingly.  Thank you that ideas to you aren't just ideas but deepest truth.

Valued

I see it in my Mas' eyes as she speaks, as she shares her thoughts and stories with me

I feel it in our time together, painting my parent's fireplace living room wall, eating apricot chicken sandwiches, playing ping pong

I experience it by the generosity poured out as she offers to buy me shoes, then gives me money, then buys me a mop at Target I was going to buy myself

"It's only one little thing" she states

Only one little thing that she can do

Each moment of our time I realize more and more the truth:

I am valued

Sweat

Brown skin shines with it
Minnesota humidity creates it
I drink more water to keep myself fresh with it
The ever-flowing, ever-needed
Smell of
Sweat

It escapes through bodies
As we bask in warmth
We feel a little like the eggs
Fried on a sidewalk

Spot

Spot
You were a good car
I'm sorry I didn't fight for you
I see your brothers and sisters
Every now and then
And I think after you

Yes, when you became more of a Swirl
My heart was proudest
You displayed art and truth
You caught everyone's attention
No one could ignore you

I remember a big black lady in a van next to me as I was driving down Franklin Ave near Christen and Annika's house
She rolled down her window and yelled to me
" Hey!"
"What?"
"That's right, King Jesus IS the Living Water!"
I thanked her abruptly and laughed at her recognition

There was also the man pushing carts in the Cub Foods parking lot
"It's true you know," he said, "Thanks for saying it...a lot of people don't say it."

And then there was that tiny 7-year old black girl who was running wildly to the East Lake library
"Aw, that's ti-ai-aht!" She almost screamed to her friends.

Spot, I miss you
Where ever you are
If you are delivering pizzas, or being driven around suburbia
Or both
I hope you continue to brighten the darkness