Christmas (Jer 20.9)

Today is 25 December, the day known around the world as Christmas. While millions gather with friends and family I am alone, partly by choice. Being in a foreign country without family, I chose to housesit rather than suffer the awkwardness of asking to spend Christmas with people not related. I wonder as I wander, as the old hymn goes, if this is not the easiest Christmas option there is. Gone are the family squabbles, the required niceties, the false gratitude for a thoughtless gift. Instead, I do what I want when I want and cater to only me. How utterly selfish. 

Thinking over most of the places where I’ve recently laid my head I realize that I have been humbled to accept the warm hospitality of people in many different cities and countries. While it may be more blessed to give than receive it is definitely more humbling to receive. And then I reflect, in my selfish lonely Christmas, how He who came came in utter helplessness--a baby--putting Himself in the receiving position. He became a man--humans must recognize their utter inability to save themselves--so that He could save us. He communicated love in our language. He changed the game.

Love incarnated Himself at Christmas. He stripped bare all our selfishness and made the way that we could choose love. The only way we can, in fact. Once He transforms our hearts we begin to grow in not only desiring Him but desiring to love others, in spite of their uglinesses. I find, with such a heart, Christmas alone is actually not easy. Even for an introvert.

The streets of the big city are lined with people rushing in and out of shops. News reports of more racial violence and tensions between religions. The empty churches hear mouthed platitudes and universalist drivel when the answer is in the very Scriptures they mouth and the truth they pass quickly over. The only answer to Ferguson is Jesus. The only answer to family personality clashes is Jesus. The only answer to a lost and dying world is Jesus. Jesus who entered our mess and made a way to love. I’m overwhelmed this solitary Christmas by how radical, unequivocal and shattering that truth is, and I pray it continues to transform me and you.  

Merry Christmas

Canal Run

the broken ice on the puddles
glints like glass in the sun
the air on my cheeks
feels like shards of the same
thump, thump, swish, swish
besides a faint roar from the M6
the only sounds are pounding feet
with my windbreaker excepting
surprised squawks from ducks
a feather balances bereft of its swan
on a thin sheen of ice
the canal sits still as the air
occasional smoke drifts casually up
from the inhabited boats
the sun is low in the sky
as if welcoming evening rather than noon
beyond lie green fields, pastures
a horse grazing peacefully
I breathe deeply the English winter

Advent

in the silence
in the secret
I can feel it very strong

like a whisper
in the darkness
something's coming with the dawn

though the masses
stop their hearing
not a soul will miss the song

from each hovel
to rich tower
His truth will triumph wrong

my pilgrim way
can lonely seem
yet know there stands a throng

the millions upon
millions wait
in whose ranks I do belong

the day now fades
I hold to hope
my Love won't tarry long

I'll fly away
eternal light
"Come quickly, Lord" my song

cosas que pinchan

La Maroma's benevolently rounded peak gazes down on Malaga, and stands as the tallest mountain in all of the province. At over two thousand meters it even boasts snow in the winter on occasion. Although nowhere near the highest point in Spain, its terrain is typical for the warm southern climates and within a few steps I was struck by the inhospitality of the inhabitants. 

Very few trees grow on Tejada (its other name)'s slopes, and rocks dominate the landscape mixed with greyish-green plants most of which look on the surface soft and inviting but with closer examination or a gentle touch reveal their true thorny nature. The trees that do grow must be protected when they are young from the wild mountain goats, and are so encircled by menacing wire fences. 

On the day of my climb a vicious wind blew from the sea so strongly that at moments it was all I could do to stand. I arrived back at the house weary, sore and with a hand full of tiny splinters from a fall on one of the mountain's prickly dwellers.

As I reflected on my hike, I thought of the things that grew naturally in this part of the world and then I thought also on how further down the mountain, near the sea, they build big plastic greenhouses and are able to grow a multitude of plants year-round, exporting mangos and avocados among other fruits. Wonderful fruits and vegetables grow happily but not naturally--it takes a lot of care and work. What grows naturally, left alone, are all manner of weeds and plants that harm.

A few short weeks before I stood gazing over the hazy land of Malaga from the rugged slopes of La Maroma a woman was laid to rest in a niche after forty-one years of tilling the soil of the souls of one small city. She died seeing mostly natural plants still dominating the landscape, hearts unconcerned with producing fruit. It can be weary, thankless work in the blazing sun beneath La Maroma as in many a city all over the world. Yet as a sower of eternal seeds I must work on while it is still today, knowing that in His time and through His grace even the harshest ground may bloom.

boasting

(shout out to Voskamp for the reminder to practice Thankfulness)

i'm leaving on a jet plane tomorrow and as i struggle through the mess of emotions that is my heart i am reminded that giving thanks for all His faithfulness reminds me that He is still with me.
here are just a few that come to mind:

1. for the opportunity to face my fears and practice driving a manual car
2. learning German and experiencing life as a second-language speaker that gives me a better perspective on the lives of my ESL friends
3. time to spend talking with friends as they face difficulties
4. living life as a German--from speaking the language in shops to doing zumba in the community hall on stage to living with a German family
5. beautiful fall days filled with hikes all over the lovely countryside
6. spending time with friends and family here
7. finding daily bread (and lots of cheese and chocolate!) as i helped with the little jobs He sent my way
8. realizing anew how blessed i am with people who care about me, even though i am not geographically near them
9. a chance to again travel and visit dear hearts who live throughout the world
10. constant reminders that He holds tomorrow in His hands

"If you brag, brag of this and this only:
That you understand and know me.
    I’m God, and I act in loyal love."  ~Jeremiah 9

fahren

do not be misled by the unimpressive population of Basel Stadt (under 200k) to think that driving in Basel is easy. in the small area i routinely search for parking places (literally, it's part of "little Basel") i have come to intersections where it seems that every direction is marked with a blaring red do-not-enter emblem. which leads me to scratch my head and wonder why i was able to get there in the first place. or, how anyone accesses those streets since i swear it had the same sign at the other end...and i have not even mentioned the trams, whose horns continually remind enterprising drivers that in the bulk department it is better not to chance a contest. narrow streets have trams running in both directions, nonchalant pedestrians who conveniently forget they do not own the street, cars parking, lorries/semis unloading and that is all normal.
but now i come to the bicyclists. in all this daily mayhem i have watched bicyclists who seem to be going for medals of honor compete in the chaos. applauding them, i marveled at the bravery it would take to join in, and gazed sympathetically as some voiced their disgust with the actions of drivers. and so, because sanity is overrated, today i decided to attempt a journey across what i now refer to as the city by the river styx. i had not even made it out of the forest when i had already been chased by a doberman and yelled at in German (believe me, it feels more serious) for bicycling on what i can only assume was a pedestrian-only path.
now, you must realize that in this part of the world stop signs are a rarity. generally, every intersection is yield-to-the-person-from-the-right. which means, of course, that people barrel through glancing only right to make sure that way is clear. barely glancing. which puts bicycles at the mercy of their eyesight, which can leave something to be desired. fortunately, i made it to my destination with only a few blocks walking.
on the return trip i stumbled into the world of the underground velobahn, something every bicyclist should experience. there exists this underground highway for bicycles in Basel. zooming along next to railroad tracks under what i can only assume were building and streets it ran for miles, surfacing every so often for its riders to wait patiently until the little red bicycle turned green, allowing them to cross the street. in utter joy that here were no trams, crazy drivers and angry pedestrians, i let myself be swept allow until the usual autobahn malady occurred: the highway ended and i had no idea where i was. but i had enjoyed the experience and, with a little help from a city map and eventually red bike signs informing me the way to get where i wanted to be, i made it back. an older, wiser rider with the velobahn experience under her belt. 

thoughts on falling

on a day when the sun whirled in the sky with joy i took a long Wandern on the hill above where i currently lay my head. vineyards roll along the southern side like a net, catching the happy sun and turning its rays into juice. it's definitely fall, late october even, yet the strength of the sun warranted no jacket and i felt pleasantly warmed, except when a shadow crossed my path and the breeze which before felt refreshing revealed its chill underside that whispered of snows to come.
at moments the beauty of the red leaves dancing in the sunlight took my breath away and as i contemplated such display it gave me pause to remember that their beauty came only through dying. these leaves, most of the year green and strong, burst forth in vibrant hues for perhaps only days before they detach and fall to the ground.
falling, dying, beauty.
there comes this release, this falling in dying. i once heard that if you dream you are falling and you don't wake before you hit the bottom it means you died. true or not, dying involves letting go of the fight to live, the right to control my breathing moments. but this is not merely physical death for me. no, i choose daily to let go of this right. to recognize that Someone--the One--truly carries me and i no longer live in the sense that this grasping, dead world demands. and in that death--so, so unlike the end of this earthly life--is such beauty that it takes my breath away as much as those dying leaves. i am falling, every day, in every uncertain moment, and yet i know Who will catch me.

Deutsch Lernen

While I have some linguistics background, I am at best an amateur. So I begin with a caveat: these are merely observations and, if false, please take my amateurishness into consideration before you read me the riot act. =)
After 2 weeks of intensive German a few lingo-cultural observations have made their way into my brain. Based partly on general background knowledge compounded by experience I have noted a few words/actions/phraseology that reflect cultural biases.
1. Schnell: (Many) Germans answer before they have completely heard the question, mostly personally observed in my teacher but confirmed by others as well (on both sides). German is said to be a difficult language to master and as the poor learner is struggling to get the question out (with some semblance of correct grammar and comprehension) the teacher, efficient, direct, saves the learner the trouble and answers ahead of the entire question. Of course, this at my level often takes longer in the end because the answer does not pertain to the question. Rarely it does, occasionally I give up and let the incorrect answer stand if the question is deemed inessential, but mostly I am forced to say "Danke, aber das ist nicht meine Frage" and then struggle to (schnell!) make my question understood.
2. If/when: English has 2 subordinating conjunctions that are translated as the same word in German: wenn. If I am sick/When I am sick I must miss class looks the same. Splitting hairs in English you might now note but yet, in my heretofore limited experience the definiteness of the German culture comes through. Yes, the language is completely capable of handling hypothetical situations but it prefers not to.
3. Punctuality: This is a well-worn theme in teutonic cultural analysis but a new slant emerges when you learn how to tell time. For English speakers, when asked the time the "now" usually takes precedence and 6.40 is given for example. Some might say "half past", referring to the previous top of the hour, and occasionally you might hear "almost" or the minutes remaining to the top of the hour, when it is, say, under 10 minutes. Not so for the Germans. At 21 minutes past the hour that hour is finished and ALL further answers to "Wie viel Uhr ist es?" must pertain to the coming hour. Already in German is one thinking forward to the time when one must be somewhere/do something. Then, of course, there are multiple words for "hour" and "time": spät/mal/zeit/stunden/uhr...
 And then there is a non-linguistic note here: in the town of 37k that I am privileged to be staying in there are no less than 3 clock towers I can hear from my apartment EVERY hour telling me the time. Some do 15 minute notes as well, and I'm pretty sure I hear a special wake-up tower at 6.30 every morning.
Ah, c'est la vie when one is culturally adjusting. Fascinating, frustrating, exciting and exhausting!
Bis später!

Be near me I pray
Just this day
Tomorrow come what may
You will with me stay
Today.

Founder's Syndrome

Starting or growing an organization has been likened to child-rearing. Through sweat, tears, labor pains and blood you birth something that is very much a part of you. You feel ownership and strong emotional ties such that when anyone questions your method of caring for your “child” you react in real anger and fear. You put your life’s blood into this; you know best how to care for it. Usually it is less obvious this is what is happening; often the symptoms are frustration on the part of those you brought on to help you. They enlisted believing that they would have a say and find that even though you listen enthusiastically to their suggestions, when it comes down to it your way goes. You may justify it any way you like but if you find your ministry leaving a wake of frustrated and disillusioned people it’s time to ask if you have Founder’s Syndrome.

Founder’s Syndrome is often noted in large-scale organizations but in reality it is most rampant in smaller non-profits where the leader or founder has developed a system of top-down exclusive decision making. It’s easier to drop into this when the group is smaller since s/he has been forced by default to make most decisions and as it grows and s/he brings on new workers his/her pattern of control begins to be a problem. The need to control is part of a two-sided coin: to grow an organization from nothing requires a leader who refuses to compromise, works relentlessly and makes tough choices. The other side emerges when the organization becomes more stable and it is not necessary for him/her to do all the work. The very strengths that birthed the organization now morph into an obstinate refusal to stand correction or dissent. In the smaller groups this pattern continues easily as growth and potential stagnate and the organization can continue for quite some time before it implodes, often with the death of the leader. A larger organization would not last as long since the very scale would accelerate the arrival of a breaking point.

In order to avoid the dissolution of all that the founder has worked for, many writers on the topic advocate organizational checks and balances or a system that is set up for long-term maintenance. While practical and safe this is actually another death sentence on the vision of the organization. Instead, two main needs must be addressed: the essential foundation of the organization and the kernel that makes an organization viable.

Firstly, founder’s end up in muddy water when the organization becomes about them and not their mission. Any Christian organization, for example, should be founded upon the Founder: Christ. If He is truly the one leading and guiding as they strive to be His hands and feet, then the founder can remain humble and open to correction and suggestion. Challenges are no longer perceived as personal but opportunities to reexamine the functioning, direction or style of the group. Everything is checked against God’s will and not the leader’s will. Founder’s can remember that the early church had many examples of times when even the Apostles got off-base and needed to be reminded of truth (cf. Peter corrected by Paul Gal 2.11-14; Athanasius and the Council of Nicea AD325).

Secondly, the essence of any new movement that solidifies into an organization is not maintenance. The founder believes that something is lacking and he seeks in an innovatory way to pioneer and improve the situation. These are not stagnating words. Growth and change is as essential in the life of an organization as in the life of a human child. When the founder begins to entrench and demand a functional style that resists new methods of doing things (remaining true to the vision of course) he has begun a downward spiral. Just as a child who never grows up is seen as a developmentally stunted, so an organization that refuses to welcome fresh ideas becomes childish and outdated. 

In sum, founders and boards need to simply measure each decision with regards to the original mission and whether the decision grows or treads water. Realizing that the very strengths which bolstered the founder through the difficult times now become weaknesses helps the founder be aware of potential trouble areas. Often but not always this will lead a discerning founder to realize that s/he needs to abdicate and allow the organization to grow on its own. Not an easy decision, but one that successful major organizations have been forced to make. If your organization is known by its name and not the founder, this is a good sign that you have made that transition. 

fútbol fever

World Cup 2014 is well underway, and as I am (fortunately?) unemployed I have entered into the experience with the masses. To be honest, fútbol is the only sport that I really enjoy watching, much to the chagrin of the males in my family. They gnash their teeth and ask why on earth I would want to watch a game where NOTHING happens for ninety minutes and then suddenly, in overtime, three goals are scored leading to a 2-1 victory (Germany v Algeria). I calmly point out that A LOT is happening--the players are constantly racing up and down the field (unlike baseball), there are no certainties regarding possession or breaks (unlike American football), and the action is as unrelenting as the athleticism (unlike golf).

However, I know that I am merely an amateur fan. I adopted fútbol as my sport in large part because it is de facto the most international sport and I am, if anything, a lover of internationality. Furthermore, having traveled as extensively as I have and being able to name friends from all over the globe, it is easy for me to pick a side in a world competition. Holding an American passport makes this all the more important as the USA never fails to underwhelm in their performance. So I chose countries such as Germany because I've visited multiple places and have several friends there, or Spain where I spent a year.

In spite of nonchalantly picking teams at rates that would mortify an English fan, I must admit that the actions of both fans and players on the USA team this year have given me hope. Maybe, just maybe, I will someday achieve legitimacy and be able to hold my head up high before friends whose teams never fail to get to the quarterfinals. After all, I can't completely renounce my heritage that believes, nay hopes always that the underdog has a chance. If fútbol offers anything that appeals to Americans, it is the dream of Cinderellas everywhere, the belief that with determination and a streak of luck, we can change our stars. And that aspect is something the English fans who scorn our lack of long-suffering endurance will never understand.

away we go!

I'm waiting and anticipating
On the floor before the door.
If it should crack I won't hold back
But blast away this sunny day
Out to the street Oh freedom sweet!
What is that smell? I cannot tell,
But I will run and have some fun
Until I see all I can be.
But wait, I hear now coming near
A single man who has a plan.
I take my stand but see his hand.
The leash descends and my joy ends.

fire season

in the silent forest
trees keep watch
silent sentries
unable to warn
as their gaze rests
on a spark
a speck compared to
their towering heights
yet imbued with power
an impish breeze passes
kisses the spark passionately
the flames burst out
child of wind and flare
the ancient trees quiver
as fire consumes
in moments the stately stand
becomes a pyre
the green growth of years
destroyed by a flicker

Ole Ola

From goal to goal I go

Ole ola I am the ball

In rain or shine I fly

Desire of one and all

They attack my sides

Ole ola I tease the cleats

They beg me to comply

And long for daring feats

The net beckons in white

Ole ola I ignore its call

They run and run and run

But only I am the ball

prairie lullabye

I know where the sidewalk ends
it ends in a field of weeds
past the last signpost and friendly host
where the elusive prairie dog feeds

I've been past the edge of nowhere
and heard how the mourning dove grieves
where the only sound above the ground
is the whisper of the aspen leaves

I've stumbled 'long the dusty trail
and gazed at the lonely pine
so I tell you true that whatever you do
you can't get it out of your mind

I miss that forever sky
sometimes when the air is thick
I can close my eyes with quiet sighs
and try not to get heartsick

I know that my day will come
when I bid farewell to home
I will shoulder my bags all dressed in rags
and walk that trail unknown

green and brown

my heart was born green. lush, verdant, rain-loving green that dances with life during each vibrant sun shower. when i've had to list ideal living places they have a common theme: temperate, green and near enough to the sea to get away for a day. my skin is white and my eyes are light and the harsh sun of a dry climate wreaks havoc on both. so i gravitate naturally towards a climate that is moist--but not too humid--and full of a variety of plants that contain all the colours of the rainbow on a spring day.
yet i have lived in and journeyed to places that boast more sun than raindrops and learnt that there can be beauty in an alien landscape. in the middle east i stepped into a beautiful oasis of date palms, right in the midst of the rusty-brown sandy landscape. the sky in lands boasting of an abundance of vitamin d seems to go on forever. in the high desert the aspen cluster around streams that dry up in late summer, their leaves playing a plaintive tune telling of hard winters and arid summers and the joy of a life free in wide open spaces.

rain in the desert

the drops fall hard and fast; this is not the slow rain of the lush valley. the thirsty ground reacts counterintuitively to the quenching drops, as if it has passed the point of thirst to reject what it so desperately needs: water. it treats the water as a man freezing to death treats his clothes, rejecting them in his dying moments as he welcomes the delusion of heat. the drops hit the dry ground and barely penetrate, condensing into rivulets and running over the dust to pool in gullies and rocky basins. cultivated ground fairs better, having been prepared to welcome the life-giving deluge. green leaves used to hiding from the sun’s harsh rays uncurl and turn upwards to the sustaining elixir. when the rain all too quickly passes the ground shakes off the moisture in a momentary mist of evaporation, returning to its brown lifeless state as quickly as a dreamer waking.

it’s a commonly held misconception that a dying man will do anything to avert death, welcoming with lightning speed the remedy for his malady. in reality, humanity rejects on a daily basis preventative cures. people choose to ignore trends in their lives that hasten mortality and put bandaids on gunshot wounds. this is not simply a physical trend, but a relational and spiritual one as well. like the dry ground, we reject the very thing that produces life in the belief that we do not need it when in fact death is crouching at the door. 

the good news is the rain will keep falling on both the just and the unjust. we can make our ground ready to welcome the rain and have lives that produce life. illnesses happen, relationships break down, mistakes are made but we can grow and improve through it all. cultivate your life now so that someday your fruit will bless those around you.

a toast to finis

i'm standing tall and striding free
the wind in my face alive
as i feel my heart jump with hope
ahead lies forever, a blank slate
destiny as yet unwritten
behind i glance for a moment
i mean only a brief look
when beyond the towers of
a bridge aflame my gaze rests
on faces left behind
missed opportunities
the laughter of possibilities ended
though torn i cannot return
the beams are crashing
steam rises from quenched fires
as the river flows on
i must look forward
regret is the luxury of others
i give my tears to the river
and pray my new day is clear

spring fever

a moment here

the air is clear

and all around

a quiet sound

the green green grass

the people pass

a sky of blue

just me and you

pink blossoms fall

but you stand tall

what your eyes tell

it casts a spell

and draws me in

i cannot win

i want to run

escape the sun

the heat that burns

with lessons learned

what stopped the earth

and killed my mirth

is beating fast

in me at last

and should it end

with you my friend

then bury me

beneath this tree

my heart can’t bear

another tear

it’s you or I

must go and die

on this spring day

in lovely May

Money-less Manhattan

New York City. Tall buildings, crowded sidewalks, storefronts with designer clothes. Trendy little restaurants that can easily set you back a day’s wages. Cabbies, shows, museums galore. With so many options begging for your attention, is it possible to enjoy the city without going broke? 

I recently spent a few days in Manhattan and found that there are a few money-saving ways to enjoy the city and still see things without spending extra money. Sure, there is a lot you won’t see if you aren’t prepared to open your pocketbook, but you can still enjoy the big city and use these tips to save your pennies for what you really want to see. 

Shows: A visit to Manhattan isn’t complete without the experience of a on- or off-Broadway show. The most popular way of getting cheaper tickets is TKTS in Times Square, where you line up around 3pm to buy up to 50% off tickets for that night’s shows. Another way is to watch Groupon or Travelzoo ahead of time. They often have deals for certain shows offering 50% as well, and you can purchase the tickets and save the time of waiting in line. Some shows offer raffles but you have to get to their box office and put your name in when it opens, then come back for the drawing right before the show. The visitor center in Times Square can give you the rundown of all the shows and any special deals they have.

Getting around: Flying into JFK you can easily hop on the AirTrain and connect to the Subway for a minimal fee. Note that if you are planning to buy a $30 unlimited 7-day subway pass it will not apply to the $5 AirTrain fee. If you are only staying a couple days, do the math--the unlimited option may not be worth it. I highly recommend walking as much as possible. Wear some good shoes and you will find that a great feature of New York is the architecture and you will miss it all in the subway.

Plan ahead: If you schedule your visit so that you group sights in different neighborhoods you will save on travel time and get to see more. Look for the free museums such as MoMA on Friday nights. If you want to get really ambitious, find cheap restaurants in the areas you visit.

Utilize grocery: Manhattan has affordable groceries, believe it or not, including 3 Trader Joe’s which boast mostly the same prices as anywhere else in the US. Grab some bread and PB and pack lunches for your sightseeing days. 

Other tricks: If you’re really tight on funds, don’t go out for drinks. Or at the very least, make sure it’s happy hour. If you put the Statue of Liberty on your list (affordable at $18/$21 for the pedestal/crown) make sure you have your picnic lunch beforehand as they don’t allow food in the statue and make you pay and extra $2 to leave it in a locker. Make sure you don’t have a backpack because it won’t go inside either. Security is worse than an airport on the island!

Manhattan is a great place to visit. Other free sights include numerous parks in addition to Central Park such as the Highline Park on the West side of midtown. I enjoyed my first visit and felt like I didn’t need to rob a bank for it to be successful.

March

it's Monday, it's March
they're calling for thunderstorms
I can hear the lion growling
cars hurry down Burnside
in insulated unconcern
I must brave the roar
skip over the puddles
wishing for insulation
at least for my feet
wonder if a lamb will come
knowing the rain is needed
hoping for a sunbeam
it's always darkest before dawn
sometimes the light is long in coming
I press on, one foot at a time
until the clouds clear

dialogue practice: jury duty

"Shut up. You only think you know what that guy meant."
"Yeah? And you would know?"
"I tell you, my cousin did time upstate and those cops are paid to make stuff up, you know, to get the tough convictions. Gotta take it with some sense."
"Whatever. You two are wise guys. I reckon that lady's the key. She swore she done seen him outside that liquor store and..."
"Lady? You calling that piece of..."
"Whoa, whoa, hold on everybody. We need to take our time and think things through like the good, rational citizens we are."
"Remind me how he got to be the foreman."
"Harvard-educated."
"Oh yeah."
"I gots something to say."
"Hey everybody, quiet down. Granny wants to talk. Go on, then, Granny. Whatcha thinking?"
"Well, I been walkin' this here God's green earth for nigh on eighty years and I done heard a lot of stories. Mmmhmm. I heard lies and I heard truths and I don't know 'bout youalls but that one witness, that chinaman, he seemed to be talking straight. Why, he even had that picture on he whatchamacallit...oh yeah, smart phone. Ain't no way you can fake that technologies now is there."
"Well, I heard that sometimes..."
"Quiet, Danny. Them technological experts said it wasn't fake."
"Like Billy said, so'un if'n he was in midtown when he says he was at them Hamptons, well, that's what I call pretty suspicious. And I think you all can see the sense in that. Mmhmm."

hold me close
the night is long
stop my heart
from wandering

wrap my love
up safe and warm
til it stays
no more to roam

bind my fears
from speaking lies
speak truth loud
drown out their cries

lift my head
when I get weary
tell each word
of my sweet story

wake me with
the failing light
kiss me soft
and say goodnight

life in a vacuum

i enjoy crime tv dramas, you know, the ones where someone is murdered and the detectives have to track down the killer(s), preferably with some humour and perhaps a twist. interestingly the shows illuminate an aspect of life that everyone, i imagine, to some extent deals with: significance. does my life matter? 

the detectives unravel the strings that connect the individual not only to other people but to accomplishments, successes, failures, and crimes. some people throw themselves into pursuits in hopes that when the cord of life is abruptly cut, some noble (or ignoble) legacy will live on. then of course there are others who leave their marks on lives, hearts breaking or rejoicing. 

the one thing that is rarely said of the collection of cells now devoid of the spark we call life is that he/she lived in a vacuum, touched no one, is remembered by no one. even chance encounters lead to relationships that lead to memories that live on. 

really, when we ask ourselves, “does my life matter?” a large part is contained in the query of whether people will remember us. whether the ripple of my body falling into the pool of eternity will touch lives standing on the shore. 

which is then ironic how little we measure the current significance of our breathing steps in the lives of those around us. or at least we allow things, pursuits, differences to separate us from the very meter by which we will count ourselves full when the Authority comes around. and yet perhaps it’s right that we lose sight of the very thing that matters. after all, we cannot measure the immeasurable. i cannot say, now, truly if i am missed. if i am cared for. i can count friends, invest in lives but i cannot be consumed by my effect on them or i will be tragically altered to a place of irrelevancy in their eyes. just being is the currency by which i feed my meter and that requires a level of self-forgetfulness that is delicate. 

the moments i’ve been reminded that my life is not a vacuum are small in the grand scheme of things. 

a child running through a building alerting all who hear that i am visiting--i matter. 

a friend quoting my casual words years later--i matter. 

the smile of a friend seeing me after an absence--i matter. 

the genuine thanks from a co-worker as i help her learn--i matter.

i try to think of moments and realise my memory has betrayed me--dismissing significance without a thought. i know there are more but i cannot remember them. and with the betrayal comes the lie that i don’t matter, that my life weighs less than a feather and as such will make no ripples. 

the road winds on to the point where i am stopped at the truth i left out of the conversation until now: i do not determine significance. in my life, while it may feel so much so that how i affect those around me equates significance, in reality a deeper level remains: He determines my significance. He cares that i touch lives around me, bearing grace and thankfulness. He cares that whatever i do--pursuits, accomplishments--i do as unto Him. but He says i matter, no matter what. because He is, i am not a vacuum.

a short ditty

there's ups and downs
there's outs and ins
and everything between

there's highs and lows
and far to go's
and stuff along the way

there's news and olds
there's hots and colds
and memories grow dim

there's laughs and tears
and hates and fears
and things you've left behind

there's life's and deaths
there's hopes and loss
and choices in each moment