to make sense of nonsense is nonsensical

So I haven't blogged in a while. My 5 faithful followers have ceased to be faithful because of my lack of blogging and now I roam the blogosphere, alone. Alone, alone. All alone. But I guess it's not a bad place to be considering I can have run on sentences and make sentences that are weird such as: When is the extravaganza at the sea port with the gnomes and chickens? Henry is nonsensical and his skin is incandescent and the monsters under his bed like the smell of the fungus cream he applies to his feet every night at 9:22pm.

See?

But I guess the point of blogging is to have my words hit the eyes and minds of my reader. So I will cease to talk about
toe jam and gnomes and will eventually write something with a few good sentences in there.

Just not today.

Nope. Not today.

I burst through the water and gasp in the air around me. My breath shudders as water droplets drip from my hair and slip past my arms. My body is cold and I can't control an involuntary shiver. I wrap my arms around myself to collect some warmth. And although my body is freezing and my teeth are chattering my heart is so warm I feel as if it's going to burst right through my chest. I feel as if at any moment my chilled body will be consumed with the heat from my heart. I will be warmed from the inside out and the heat that suffuses my heart, my soul, will consme me utterly and completely. I am happy; soul-stirringly, jump for joy, tears of happiness, happy.

Before I stepped in the water I had stripped down to nothing, feeling embarrased, feeling as if I should cover myself up. But now with the trees looming above me and the sunlight peeking through their dense leaves I realized that that was the only way I could have gone to Him. Naked. Completely naked. It seemed right, somehow.

I had placed a clean set of clothing on top of a log and I put it on. After, I built a fire and placed my old set of clothes in it. I layed my pallet on the ground and rested on it. The stars winked at me and I sighed contendly. Up there, past the stars and the clouds, past the planets and their moons was my home. My real, true home. But the King of that Kingdom was closer still. He wasn't millions of miles away, was in fact much closer. So close that I felt His voice reverbarate within me and comfort me. I felt His touch and His calming presence. So this is what it meant to be born again? To feel clean, content, and yes, even righteous.

I am a new creation, I thought. I felt my mouth widen to a smile, from ear to ear in sudden joy, Oh the possibilites!

It wasn't until the next morning when I was washing my face did I remember to look at my hands. I dropped my hands slowly from my face and hesitantly, fearfully, I looked at them. They were clean. I sobbed with joy and relief.

Just yesterday, before my baptism, they had been stained red. I had almost peeled my skin off in my desperation to remove the stain, the evidence, of the murder I had committed. They had been stained all the weeks and all the months I languished in my depression and self-hate. But now, as if by magic, they were clean. I bore no evidence of my crime. But I knew it had not been magic, it hadn't even been a miracle. It had been love. Love, which had erased the proof of my sin and the guilt of my conscious. Love, as it were, had set me free.

And so now my Father's name is synoymous with Love. They are one in the same. And His son Yeshua, whom I murdered, I feel His love even now as I pen this. I feel it wash over me, wave upon wave. His acceptance of me, His need of me, humbles me to my core. I was once a lost sheep but my Sheperd recovered me. He rejoiced in finding me. I was once lost but now am found.

Clasped hands and solid feet.

I have a confession to make. One that shames me and sadden's me. For the past six months the Father and I haven't exactly been on the best terms. Well, He's always been right there, I'm the one whose taken one or two or 50,000 steps in the wrong direction, which is any direction not directly attached to Him.

My heart aches for the time I've wasted in my grumbling and anger and laziness. For the past couple of months my heart, my body, and my mind have felt like they've been in a big plastic bag. At first the bag is roomy and isn't really that stifling but each day I spent away from the Father the bag would close in on me. Each day it grew tighter and tighter until finally I reached the point where I was suffocating because I wasn't abiding in the Father.

So what did I do? I reached for His hand, His beautiful hand. And He pulled me from my miry pit and set my feet on solid ground. I can breathe again. And the relief of it is indescribeable.

I imagine that in my walk with God I will go through more dark times. Times where I don't feel like working things out, times where I'm angry at God and think I know best. But I am heartened and ecstatic that my Father, the King of the Universe, takes the time to knock on the door of my heart every day. Today, today, and today I'm letting Him in.

...

"...the material, the story is there: it exists. You find it; you mine it out; you carry it up in buckets or in teaspoons, lay it out upon the table, push around the potsherds, ponder where they fit; fragments of gold leaf, bone, corroded flesh, the rim of a cup in buff grey or brilliant green, a knot of hair and faded threads, or on exquisite glass vessel entire . . . There is a story here, but it is up to the writer to make it whole."

— Ursula le Guin

. . .

I can't wrap my head around feeling both needed and irrevelant. It's odd.

my teeth are showing.

God, I'm happy today.

I'm sure it has a lot to do with Relient K.
It's hard to feel bad for a man's breakup when it produces such great music.



The sun is shining in Florida. And although I miss the coolness of Tenn. and the visible changing of the seasons there is something to be said of having the sun shining all day, everyday.

My mom is dusting off her fall decorations and it makes my heart exceedingly glad to see new wreaths grace the doors of my house.

There are countless other reasons why there is a smile plastered on my face but I won't try to analyze why. I'll just feel it through.

God, I'm happy today.

Rembrandt knew a good thing.

I don't have time to write because I have to get ready to take care of twelve 4yr old brats, their really cute brats however, and I love them desperately. Anyway, my fingers were itching to write something so I had to give in to the urge.


When I saw this painting my heart started beating faster and I felt tears pricking my eyes and I know it's insane but I even felt an urge to utter a profanity. How could this painting evoke so many different physical and emotional reactions in me? This painting was Rembrandts take on the Biblical story of the prodigal son. And when I saw it I felt the son's dirty feet and bald head, I felt his shame. And then suddenly I felt the father's embrace and I was overtaken by his simple, grateful acceptance.

Rembrandt conveyed the moment between father and son, between us and the Father beautifully.


I won't get into the jealous brother who looks particulary evil in the background, that's for another time. :]

Two hands = A Lot.

Sometimes you read something and it commands your attention. The way the words fit together tilt your world and then you realize, you know, that this is magic. And it all happened with the stringing of a couple of words.

Sometimes you hear a song, whether it be classical, folk, rock, anything and you are forced to take a step back and wonder at the perfect rightness of it. The lyric choice put together with certain violin strings, or the play of voice as it smoothes over the guitar, just explained a bit of life to you. It made things clearer.

Sometimes you see a painting and you hold your breath. Because this painting, this canvas that made sense of someone's brush strokes speaks to a part of your heart you never knew existed. And suddenly something has broken free and your a different person than you were before you saw the painting.

Humans have this glorious ability to create. We muddle through life and in a moment of God given clarity, you get it. Or at least you create what you don't get and even if by the end of your creation you still don't get it, the process has helped you. For centuries poets, writers, painters, musicians, sculpters, have brought clarity to the world and if not that, they have given us beauty. Whether it was beauty that scared you or beauty that enlightened you, they have given us an insight into the human soul.

Let us not hide our hearts from beauty, from creating, from each other. Our Father gave us hands, and hearts, and minds so that we might share them with each other. Don't be afraid to create. To share. To muddle through the world, even if it's with interpretive dance. :]

A looong time coming . . .

I'm reading this book by John Elderidge about Desire, it's about searching for the life you've only ever dreamed of. There are two words that for me, describe Elderidge's work perfectly, insightful and humble. While reading this book it's actually been book imitating life, or vice versa.

For a couple of months life hasn't been going my way. I won't bore you with the particulars but it's been an uphill climb for a while, and I've been struggling with every step. Just like everything in the world my emotions through this time have come around like a process. It's like I know how I'll react before I even finish with the trial.

First, I'm fine. Upbeat even. Then there's acceptance, complacency, hope, complacency again and finally there's anger - at God. The last couple of weeks have been filled with me barely talking to Him and feeling guilty about it and then being angry at Him because He won't talk to me. But then I ask myself if He did talk would I listen? Unless there were a parting from the clouds and a booming voice that called out my name, probably not. And even then I'd probably ask for backup evidence. Apparently I need help with the whole faith thing.

That's why my God. My Savior. My Friend and Redeemer decided to reach me through a book. Mr. Elderidges' book. I woke up in the morning and after making some coffee decided to lay back and read some of the book.

Elderidge was writing about how sometimes it feels as if God is our enemy, how all the plans we make for ourselves are thwarted. And then he gave instances in which we would feel that, like not being able to find a job or a mate etc. And every one of the instances he provided was something I'm struggling with right now. Points of contention between God and I. And I knew. I KNEW. That God was speaking to me. Through the pages of a book that wasn't even the Bible.

And what I realized is this: We humans desire SO many things. Whether it's relational things or material things, whatever. And as the book says we supplant those desires with things that we think will fill us but never will. So in order to save us from empty lives God stands in the way sometimes of what we supposedly want so that we can realize that what we truly want will always be ours, A life with God. Now, I am a firm believer in God giving you things you want. Whether it be wisdom, or battle victories whatever it is God, as your Father He wants to please you.

But when we are separated from God we can't see Him through the filmy confusion of our desires. But once we are connected to God we see Him. Our focus isn't on what we want because He assures us we will have everything, "Ask and you will recieve." Our focus is on God and He, as cliche as it might sound, is our everything.

Besides, all the things we want, all the blessings and gifts we yearn to recieve, how much better to recieve it when we've been looking to God to satisfy everything. We aren't weary from trying to accomplish things ourselves, because we've been too focused looking at God.

So don't deny yourself desires. That is exactly the opposite of what Jesus preached when He came down to earth. He wants us to desire what the world says is impossible, streets of gold, travels across the universe, mansions prepared by the Master Architect. And yet, He will meet your earthly desires just because He loves you THAT much. Just look to Him to fulfill you and lavish you with wonderful things, don't try to do it yourself.

"Thy hand unloved its pleasure must restrain,
Nor spoil both gift and child by lavishing too soon."
-George MacDonald