Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Light
Jesus has lead me to this leaving...to this last look of letting go. Sometimes sorrows makes you widdle away at what you've been carrying...forces you to lighten your load. Joy dwells in God alone and finds the lonely. When I meet my guardian angel I'll want to hold his brilliant face within the palms of my hands and say thank you maybe after I've worshiped God for a thousand years or so and said hello to Karma as if I've just been walking down a country lane. We all have a guardian angel that watches over us you know. Peter's went ahead of him I think when they supposedly answered his knock at the door. Anyway, sitting here now I'm thankful for all of you who have loved me as you have loved me as I am and not what I thought I should have been. It mattered all of your hello's and how are you's and silent prayers I never heard. It made me feel deeply loved and today I know I'll be better than I ever was because of you and God who sent you. I sing. I run. I hold my viola and strike notes that I know can make me weep if I just put them in the right order. I have dinner with friends and laugh with my whole heart. I hear God say "We will dance. I promise we will dance." And God never lies. So my hope is that you hear him too and dance your dance in your own unique way just as I dance mine. And that those unkown silent prayers for you are answered.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Star
I often feel tethered to the world. I could take flight if it wasn't for gravity...but gravity complicates things. We are sons and daughters of God. We are shining stars so I'm told. When I am most peaceful I think of God and wide open spaces. Places untouched except for God's spirit hovering over them. Like white scattered beaches, galaxies with no names yet, and roaming fields of corn, wheat or lavendar it does not matter wich as long as its as far as my eyes can see. I find my paradise in quiet places. I find my freedom in God. He is the Alpha and the Omega and there seems to be alot in between to discover of him yet. I'm not sure what it is that I'm trying to say. I toil and I laugh. Life makes a mystery. Inside I feel a fallen star. A miracle. And at the same time the push and pull of pain. Do stars grow like blooming flowers?
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Curiosity
It all started when...
You know the good stories, the really deep stories always seem to begin this way. There is a when something was placed into motion in your life and you know from that when you are never the same. When I met, when I noticed, when I went...It all takes place during a when. Time, God's guardian over us. Well this story starts with a when I watched a movie called The Girl In The Cafe. The dialog was brilliant. The opening scene with an opening song even better than that. The Song was called Cold Water by Damien Rice. I can't seem to stop listening to it. It begins with the sound of a solitary piano and the ticking of a grandfather clock. There are arpegios of violins and halleluja's sung in it. This song takes it time with me, slows me down and lets me rest. I try to sing it and realize something strange has happened to my voice. It used to carry this rustic country tone and now it carries this light uplifting quality that I didn't have before. I didn't know voices could change so much. After the discovery of this I decide to go to the music store for fun and find I'm drawn to the cello's and violins. A few weeks later I go home and my father has decided to try and become a part of a community orchestra. He's out of practice but he wants to begin again. As if his whole life has been waiting to strike those strings and play once more. There is a light of joy reflected in his eyes when he talks about it. So I go back to the music store and set my eyes upon a Viola that comes with a case and a bow for about a hundred bucks. The instrument it rests beautifully in my hands. I pluck the strings and make it sing a little. My father is starting over. And I just want to start. For those of you who know me I have this habit of wanting to try everything. I am somewhat adventurous and I'm feeling joyful. I want to sail, surf, ride horses, play the guitar, write, paint, run, sing, dance, draw, carve marble and travel and who knows what else. It's impossible to do them all well. I understand this. But there is something in me that finds joy in the attempt. Even if I never take it up again. At least I tried once. I dunno there is a part of me that believes one day I will fall in love with at least one thing and revel in it for the rest of my life. Monday I have my first lesson. I start. I stop. I start again. God will have to work on me about the consistency of it all. He never stops. But I always this strange thought "How will I know if I don't try?"
You know the good stories, the really deep stories always seem to begin this way. There is a when something was placed into motion in your life and you know from that when you are never the same. When I met, when I noticed, when I went...It all takes place during a when. Time, God's guardian over us. Well this story starts with a when I watched a movie called The Girl In The Cafe. The dialog was brilliant. The opening scene with an opening song even better than that. The Song was called Cold Water by Damien Rice. I can't seem to stop listening to it. It begins with the sound of a solitary piano and the ticking of a grandfather clock. There are arpegios of violins and halleluja's sung in it. This song takes it time with me, slows me down and lets me rest. I try to sing it and realize something strange has happened to my voice. It used to carry this rustic country tone and now it carries this light uplifting quality that I didn't have before. I didn't know voices could change so much. After the discovery of this I decide to go to the music store for fun and find I'm drawn to the cello's and violins. A few weeks later I go home and my father has decided to try and become a part of a community orchestra. He's out of practice but he wants to begin again. As if his whole life has been waiting to strike those strings and play once more. There is a light of joy reflected in his eyes when he talks about it. So I go back to the music store and set my eyes upon a Viola that comes with a case and a bow for about a hundred bucks. The instrument it rests beautifully in my hands. I pluck the strings and make it sing a little. My father is starting over. And I just want to start. For those of you who know me I have this habit of wanting to try everything. I am somewhat adventurous and I'm feeling joyful. I want to sail, surf, ride horses, play the guitar, write, paint, run, sing, dance, draw, carve marble and travel and who knows what else. It's impossible to do them all well. I understand this. But there is something in me that finds joy in the attempt. Even if I never take it up again. At least I tried once. I dunno there is a part of me that believes one day I will fall in love with at least one thing and revel in it for the rest of my life. Monday I have my first lesson. I start. I stop. I start again. God will have to work on me about the consistency of it all. He never stops. But I always this strange thought "How will I know if I don't try?"
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