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Soldiers on respite

We comb back our hair

Frayed and tattered by the wind

Greased pulled back stumped fingers

sometimes biting at the bit

checking faces in mirrors

is this really me?

Is my tie on straight?…

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It all culminates

Begins

And while battered

And bruised

Blistered and subjected

To cruel worlds of selfishness

We straightened our ties

Exhale,

breathe deeply

Stand up tall

And go back out into it

While in the background

The piano strikes up

A somber tune

Out of tune

Ringing down the corridor

Echoing off of the

“welcome, come again” mat

Springing through ringlets

Primed by fingers with nails

Chewed too low

And we hum along

To the song

Onward we those

Christian soldiers…

Now where did I leave

That war?

“Knock, knock…”

change is constant (background music)

 

Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.” – George Bernard Shaw

Knock, knock…who’s there?  Noah.  Noah who?  Noah a good way to open the door?

Ok bad joke, but change is knockin’ and wants to come in and sometimes we sit behind the door hoping that change will just go away so that we don’t have to open it!

Change is inevitable, yet why is it that most, if not all of us, would rather have a root canal than be forced to change?  Perhaps you’re thinking, “but I’m spontaneous, I like change.”  Do you really?  If change is planned by someone other than yourself do you not feel powerless, forced into something, and maybe a little bit controlled?  The obvious answer is yes!  In this regard, when change is forced upon us, most if not all would dig in our heels, be dragged kicking and screaming through the threshold of change.   Yet is change in and of itself necessarily the villain here?  No, it’s not.   Change is just the conduit by which realities in our lives are modified, for better or worse.   If anything is at fault from time to time in healthy change it’s the attitude in which we receive this change.  Our attitudes can make or break decisions and positive directions if we continually have a negative outlook on things around us.

Have you ever been friends with a cynic or a pessimist who were always negative?  It’s not exactly a healthy relationship to always be dreary, somber and generally disagreeable.  No one wants to be around people like that all the time, because whatever glimmer of hope one might have of life can be sucked out of them by the downer attitude of a naysayers or pessimist.

So why do we dig in our heels when change occurs?  Could it be that our own sense of security and comfort is threatened?  Substantial positive change has that effect on a majority of us who live and breathe every day…ok maybe that’s too vague.  Let me put it another way.  Substantial positive change has that effect on all of us in some shape or form.  Are you getting the picture now?   We are all affected by change.  John Maxwell once said, “If we’re growing we’re always going to be out of our comfort zone”  Meaning, if we are continuing to modify our outcomes in life for the better, improving our lifestyle, habits, work ethic, then we are going to be uncomfortable, we are going to face challenges…but it is always worth it.

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Have you ever kept a journal?  A few years ago I opened one of our moving boxes and discovered a couple of old poetry journals that I had filled and written in ages ago.  At the time, I thought these poems were fantastic, or at least moderately good.  But when I re-read them again, I discovered that as a young adult or teenager, my poems were shallow, simplistic and fairly unoriginal…In it I discovered that I had grown, matured and my outlook on life has changed for the better.   It’s funny when we look back at periods of our lives and think about how we were.  People change.  We, you change!  This is a constant.  This is a truth we all discover as we age in this life.  Have you ever gone back to a school reunion and thought to yourself, wow everyone has changed?  You just witnessed this truth of change.

-Back to our heel digging decries of this villain known as change…

Helen Keller once said, “When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.”  Change is like this, and so is our perception of our lives or our interpretation of our lives.  I can sure identify with this quote.  I’ve stared longingly at closed doors of happiness, wishing they would re-open and yet life is forcing me through other doors of possibility.  I have regretted some of those doors and my entry through them, and because in my displeasure and complaints I have failed to capture the blessings of those open and new opportunities.  I’ve been ashamed of my almost childish protests.  My “not gonna do it and you can’t force me to” proclamations to leaders above me and or even God himself.  I’m glad no one took pictures of me in those moments, my shame and my arrogance would have been evident and these improper responses, I know now, have been and still are beneath me as a person…as a follower of Christ. once said, “When one door of happiness closes, another 

 

Change is a part of life.  If we don’t walk through the doors of change, we will not grow into the people we were meant to be, and

the world will truly be lacking because of it.  So when change forces us through another door, may we all walk through it with an ounce of dignified grace instead of kicking and screaming…and who knows, maybe in the process of such moments we might be able to appreciate the beauty and majesty of it.

The bamboo that bends is stronger than the oak that resists.
~Japanese Proverb

“Here I am, I stand at the door and knock, If anyone hears my voice 

and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.” –Revelations 3:20

 

“Knock, knock…”

“On days like this…”

Well it’s really cold here today…although I can’t say its as cold as Alaska or as cold as places in the Arctic circle, but it’s still very cold outside. It’s the kind of day that one just wants to stay in doors for… seeking to pass the time in front of the tube, playing a board game or curled up with a good book in hand, and who knows if a nap comes calling maybe one might answer its gesture into counting forty winks. It’s just that kind of day.

Have you ever had the feeling that there’s too little hours in the day to do what you want to do? Perhaps, you might wonder, what this has to do with this cold day indoors? Well, Indoors on days like this you get to thinking about all of the things you want to do or have to do and from time to time it just feels… overwhelming. We might jot things down in a journal, make ‘todo’ lists, reorganize our shoe rack…I don’t know…maybe this is where cabin fever begins, and the guy in the ‘Shining’ should have found a hobby or made a list instead taking up killing…ok I digress again.

All this to say, its ok to be restless on days like this. Cold, stark wintry days…when the sun sets way too late as does the morning sunrise. It’s ok.

Alright, taking my own advice…deep breaths…shoe rack discombobulated…ready set organize. -Stay warm!

The Age of Worry and Ice Roads

Is it ironic that I’m listening to “The Age of Worry” by John Mayer while outside of this metallic shell of a vehicle the ice has formed, dark in some patches, glare in others, smashed and jagged in others – worry in every aspect of “safe travel”!

Outside there is a sense of apprehension in the air. Drivers, pedestrians, the unseen angels are collectively holding their breath and perhaps the bank of prayers are receiving additional deposits today…some in the form of I.O.U’s, others pre-paid, while some “fast-cash”…though prayer is prayer even in times of need and protection.

“This is the age of worry…and say worry get out of here!”

Be safe, where ever you may be today, and I hope that you make plenty of deposits in the prayer bank today, tomorrow and in all kinds of weather!

Today Superman is as sick as a dog.

Isn’t it interesting that inspiration is spontaneous and seeks us out in the oddest of circumstances. Me? It found me today, bent, back aching from coughing all night, sick as a dog minus fleas…at least Im pretty sure i don’t have fleas. Medicine induced funky dreams that make as much sense as spaghetti in cereal…I know yuck! For everyone else in the world who is currently sick or about to get sick…I feel your pain, and it ain’t pretty…did I just say ain’t (don’t look now my red neck is showing)?!

I digress. I’m sick today hacking worse than a man with one lung In a marathon (no offense to my uni-lung compadres). Headache will undoubtably be at the door soon begging to come in. I’m frustrated with much to do and house bound…this truly sucks. Here today, I’m reminded though that I am not superman. I never was, and I never will be (is that a kick to my macho ego? Yep, it sure is). So in the spirit of the unhealthy and the unwell, I am putting the cape, silk yet indestructible, away today…(can I still hold on to it for a moment?).

There’s a passage in the Bible that says “apart from me (Jesus speaking) you can do nothing” (John 15:5). I’m really feeling that verse today. News Flash: I am not invincible. Sub-title: Jesus is.
Hmm…in my weakened state today, hacking and feeling achy…I realize that in every aspect of my life, I am better off with Christ than without him. There…I’ve admitted it…I don’t feel any less like a man, in fact I realize that I am not whole without my relationship to God through Christ.

He is healer, savior, friend, defender and so much more…and not just today when I’m hangin’ with the crud of sickness, but everyday.

Inspiration: I don’t want to be apart from Him…ever. It doesn’t mean that I there wont be days when I forget and try and reassume this role of superman, cape and all…what it does mean is that I’ve become more aware of this earthen vessel that is temporary and breakable…yet in my weakness He is strong.

So here I am today sick as a dog, yet feeling mighty blessed to know the one who has Saved and Redeemed me is unbreakable, mighty and everlasting. Do you still have a strong hold on your Superman cape today? Can I refer you to my Heavenly doctor? ;).

-Blessings on you today…keep reaching for Him, he’ll never let you fall!

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Before the birth of dawn

Late last night

Under covers – down,

joined by the purring

At my feet

Acting out something

I cannot remember now

From fluttering eyelids and

Speech that sounds like snoring…

I swear I don’t snore 😉 .

Perhaps as the blood red

Alarm clock glowed,

And as ticks, sighs,

groans of our

Restless house

Wound itself into

The arms of early

morning.  The clouds

In the birthing

Room of another

Brood of sunrise

Yet just before

The final ‘push’,

The last cry of

Nightfall’s curtain

Descends…thousands

Of miles away bursting

Through the Rockies

Days before its

Winter’s lips

Kissed frosted earth

Bending spruce and ferns

Into a deep embrace

Only to pick up again

Skirting the Black hills

And Lincoln’s chin

Rushing on down

towards the mighty

Mississippi, as ice bergs

Smaller than those that

took down the titanic

Weave their way into

The heart’s arteries of

America.

As it touches down once

again, the mighty river

ebbs to the beckoning call…

back in our home

still sorting out visions

with eyes clasp shut

It rushes down onto our

our creaking home…

Its winter’s clutch

testing storm windows

pushing at the screen door

somewhere deep inside

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Dorothy Gale tries to click her

heels, as Toto barks on…

it happens quickly,

yet Oz doesn’t come into

view,

the birthing room announces

another fire branded day

is here…both Lincoln’s chin

and the mighty Mississippi

breathes collective sighs of relief

as the cries of a new born day

begins.

At Bed Time…

After I have collected

Mortal fingers and toes

Wrapped in cotton

Bathed, smoothed down

Deeply breathing

Faint wisps of

day time energies

and ever so slightly

nestled in these

undeserving arms

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growing older that I

should recognize as mine.

They both look like me,

of that there is no

perjured witness.

 

Pointed nose that,

 

Lacking arch and rounded

Bulbous, points its

Finger at me.

Flaxen colored haired

Waves to me as I carry

Them up the creaking stairs.

Treasures come in all shapes

 

And sizes,

Some planned,

Others surprises

Valuable determined

By how much pain

Joy, buckets full of laughter

Handfuls of tears…

These are my treasures

Enfolded in aging arms…

Blessed.

.

Worship Music and Road Rage

Ok, it’s confession time.  You know, that moment when you spill the proverbial beans, you spill your guts, the whole truth shall set you free…so here goes…

ImageIt happened yesterday.  It was just another normal day of getting my two oldest boys off to school, and getting there on time.  For me being on time is important, it’s a pet peeve of mine to be late for anything…yet somehow the rest of my family seems to think we can show up whenever we get there, which is not cool for school!

After about five minutes of looking for one of my son’s shoes, which must have been a part of Harry Houdini’s magic act, because I have found his shoes in the oddest places including outside and behind the toilet (I am not kidding).  Finally we get into the minivan, I’m a little flustered, we’re a few minutes late now and the van is stone cold because we spent so much time looking for shoes that I neglected to start the van early enough to get it warmed up.  I guess you could say it was my time to chill…literally.  We get our seat belts buckled, and off we go to school.  I take a few deep breaths to exhale the stress from my lungs and turn on the radio.  It’s still set to my mp3 player, and so praise music begins to play in the van.  I am finally finding my groove with now tepid coffee in hand, and soothing worship music playing in the background.  At this point I am starting to feel the music, and I begin to sing along…oh don’t judge me, I bet you sing in the van too.

As I’m singing along to a song called “Love came down” I glance in my rearview mirror and notice a car is aggressively riding my rear bumper.  I’m doing the speed limit…I’m not a slow driver.  I’m still trying to sing this great worship song but I’m being distracted by the driver in the car behind me.  It’s starting to stress me out again.  Finally we come to one of those round-abouts that the city recently put in, and I expect him to slow down…instead he speeds up, and swerves into the next lane, then he darts ahead of me and proceeds to cut me off as he turns into my lane ahead of me… “Love came down” is still playing in the background…although I’m not feeling like I want to place any love down on this guy who I feel has just wronged me.  In fact, I feel like speeding up, honking my horn, and if possible pass him up just like he did to me.

Love came down to rescue me, love came down to set me free…”

Then these words hit me in the face, as I’m flustered, angry, and I’ve yelled at the guy as he cut me off…somehow I don’t feel so “set free” at the moment…I’m bound by this anger inside of me at this act that I understand to be injustice and inconsideration by some idiot in a car.

At the same moment that the lyrics of this song that I had just been singing hit me, I look over at my boys.  It’s a double slap in the face.  What am I teaching my children in this instance?  Am I teaching them that you can sing about being set free by the love of God and at the same time curse man because of their ignorance and failure to yield to the rules of the road?

Love came down to rescue me, love came down and set me free…and I am Yours, I’m forever Yours.”  At that moment I didn’t feel like HIS…I felt guilty of being MINE.  I felt guilty of being selfish and I was teaching my children how to be angry and selfish too.  Was this the kind of legacy I was leaving for my kids?  Did I want my boys to be angry at drivers, angry at the world and stressed out over something so temporary and silly?  Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “For every minute you are angry you lose sixty seconds of happiness.” I know this to be absolutely true…because in that moment of road rage, I lost my happiness and I lost a little bit of integrity that I had with my kids in that van.

I was convicted while singing a praise song, and instead of displaying that love that came down for me, I was displaying the wrath of my sinful state…my old self.

Okay, confession time is over.  They say it’s good for the soul, but you know what’s better for the soul?  Avoiding those trappings that lead us to confession in the first place.  It’s much, much harder to do, but in the long run we would all be better off.  This is a truth that I’ve learned, road rage and worship music make for very awkward road companions, let alone improper parental examples of godly living.

I guess what I’m trying to say is summed up in Ephesians 4:29; “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.”   I was singing one tune and letting sin lead me astray back into my old sinful ways…and my kids were in the van.  I wasn’t building anyone up in that moment; I was letting my tongue destroy.

We can’t possibly do both at the same time as children of God.  We either let love come down and be a part of who we are igniting others with this joy, love and hope; or we let sin in and we treat others through selfish intentions and shameful acts.  Perhaps you’ve also been there a time or two…it’s a slap in the face, conviction follows and we need to confess and modify that behavior if we are to truly live as children of God bringing that love and freedom into this world.

Take it from a guy who sang a song of praise while my actions were singing a song of wrath…it’s time to change.

-Just a thought.

“At the Cancer Clinic” by Ted Kooser

She is being helped toward the open door

that leads to the examining rooms

by two young women I take to be her sisters.

Each bends to the weight of an arm

and steps with the straight, tough bearing

of courage.  At what must seem to be

a great distance, a nurse holds the door,

smiling and calling encouragement.

How patient she is in the crisp white sails

of her clothes.  The sick woman

peers from under her funny knit cap

to watch each foot swing scuffing forward 

and take its turn under her weight.

There is no restlessness or impatience

or anger anywhere in sight.  Grace

fills the clean mold of this moment

and all the shuffling magazines grow still.  

Les Miserables: A story of intervention, redemption and hope.

Their hands and feet are in chains.   The scenery begins with the misery of deplorable labor camp conditions; and if a prisoner dies, another takes their place.  Life is expendable and short lived in this hell on earth.    Their words echo and resound in our hearts: “Look down, look down don’t look ’em in the eye.  Look down, look down, you’re here until you die…The sun is strong It’s hot as hell below, Look down, look down, there’s twenty years to go. I’ve done no wrong! Sweet Jesus, hear my prayer! Look down look down, Sweet Jesus doesn’t care.”

Spoiler Alert

This is the opening scene of Les Miserables, a book by Victor Hugo, transformed into a world renown musical and now a soon to be academy award winning movie.  The content of this story pulls at our heart strings, makes us weep at the human condition and lament the loss of love, life and hope.  But within the narration of this classical tale dwells a redemptive element that is personified in the character of Jean Valjean.  At the beginning of this tale,  Valjean is a prisoner because he broke into a bakery and stole a loaf of bread for his sister’s children who are starving.  He is convicted and sent to work in this labor camp prison and now identified by the law as prisoner 24601, his life is a perpetual hell…until he is paroled.  The story picks up following his release and his trouble only continues because of his identity as a convicted felon with his yellow identification card – indicating his post prison status.  He is taken in by a Bishop only to give into temptation and steals some valuable silverware, but Valjean is caught and brought back to the bishop.  At this point a first time reader might assume Valjean is doomed by his guilt, but the Bishop does something remarkable, he tells the police that he gave Jean Valjean the valuable silverware.  Following the departure of the police, the Bishop tells Valjean to take the valuable treasure of silverware and use it for good.  Jean Valjean is amazed, conflicted and broken by this gift of generosity and forgiveness.  He vows to use this gift for good and within this amazing story He keeps his promise by redeeming and saving others.

This is more than just a story of hope and salvation in humanity; this is our own redemptive story of grace and reconciliation given to us by God through His Son Jesus Christ.  We can identify with the character of Jean Valjean in many ways.  We too have been a prisoner, our prison is sin, condemned to live a life of hell without the hope of true salvation.  Living in our fallen world, we have all seen the evidence of the hopeless condition in humanity by just watching the news and witnessing horrific acts of violence, selfishness, greed, envy and so much more.  Conditions in parts of our world are deplorable and it even infects the very communities in which we live…there is no place on earth that we can escape these effects of sin.  Many, even those who have resources and are affluent, feel the weight and burden of such hopelessness.   Henry David Thoreau once said; “rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth.”  The truth is this: we are hopelessly shackled to this life of depravity and sin without an external intervention breaking through and saving us.  The character of Jean Valjean is you and me.  What would have happened if that Bishop had not intervened?  He was the very hand of God in Valjean’s life.  We too need an external intervention.  Jesus was that intervention for you and for me.  When He came to this world He took upon Himself our sin and our shame…He took our place…that execution on the cross – should have been ours.  Can you feel the shackles breaking yet?  We have been given hope, a release from our death sentence; we’ve been taken in, cleaned up and restored in right relationship with God himself…because of Jesus’ intervention.  So what do we do with this grace, this forgiveness?  I think Victor Hugo had it right in Les Miserables!  His character Valjean doesn’t disappear never to be heard of again, instead he extends that hand of God, grace, hope and love in his intervention to others.  That is the essence of Redemption!  First it comes to us from an external intervention, and then we in turn extend that intervention to other…we become the very hands and feet of God.  Mark 16:15 says; “He (Jesus) said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation.”   We become God’s intervention to the world…we don’t become God, but rather we are used by God to spread this good news!

So how about it, is it time of an intervention in our world?  Do you want to be a part of God’s redemptive plan in your life as well as the lives of others?  It begins with accepting this gift of redemption and grace that Christ gives to us all, then from there be a part of spreading that good news of His redemptive love to those around you!  This tale of Valjean is you and me…and we have been redeemed for a purpose…so do something about it! Image

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