\/the love synthesis /\

the prodigal

2010-08-29T14:27:00.000-07:00

the prodigal squanders wealth,
and in shame wastes inheritance
the prodigal wanders in empty meaning,
and neglects to embrace his worth

and off in the distance his father waits.
he watches,
he hopes,
he anticipates,
and he whispers:

You are not loved because you have value,
You are valued because you are loved.

So come to me weary prodigal. And I will father you forever.

a den of lions

2009-08-26T22:21:00.000-07:00

i am bent and broken
like a gentle reed in fields of wild wind,
and the harsh rain washes over,
forcing me to bend and break again

i am bent and broken
as a man trying to become a lover,
and this path has found me,
it beckons me to bend and break yet again.

for the heart is not made in the comfort of houses and shelters,
it is made for the riskiness of the open territories

it does not belong in the safety of our own hands,
but in the vulnerability of another's

it does not grow within a nest of protection
but in a den of lions.

i wanna be a real boy

2009-07-22T18:20:00.000-07:00

I remember when I was a little boy, I loved the story of Pinocchio.

The story goes something like this:
Geppetto, a gentle and kind woodcarver, builds a marionette to be his substitute son and a benevolent fairy brings the toy to life. The puppet, named Pinnochio, is still not yet a real human boy but must earn the right to be one by exemplifying truthfulness, bravery, and selflessness.

And every-time the boy puppet lies, his nose grows.

I wonder what it would be like if everytime we messed up or sinned against God or someone, something happened on the outside of us; something happened externally to signify our internal struggle. something we couldn't help . . . like our nose growing. I wonder what it would be like if our bodies bore the repercussions of our mistakes so that everyone knew what we had done (sort of like the "Scarlett Letter").

What if everytime you thought a lustful thought
about somone who has not your spouse,
a giant "A" for adultery would start to appear on your forehead?

It is our human nature to fear exposure.
we fear people finding out about the things
we don't like about ourselves. the thought of
public humiliation terrifies us. we hate being open and vulnerable.

we fear showing people that we are a wooden puppet, longing to be a real person.
there is a desire deep within all of us that resonates with the words of Pinocchio: "I wanna be a real boy".

we even try to "fix" these problems on our own too.

we are so scared to show anyone the ugliness within us that we try to heal ourselves . . . by ourselves.
instead of admitting that we are broken, fake, and longing to be real . . . we resign ourselves to living a double life. We have one hand in the light while the other is in the dark, dealing with some secret sin.

our sins force us into a house of isolation and loneliness that we build with our own hands.
and there we dwell . . living lives of secrecy and always afraid that someone will discover what we really are like.
our relationships stay on the surface . . . we shy away from intimacy out of fear that someone will
see the reality of who we are and be disgusted by what they see.

so we live like wooden toys . . . fake poppets.
I don't know about you, but I wanna be a real boy.

And maybe the first step is just acknowledging that you're just a fake wooden toy.
Then, and only then, can the father begin to make you real.

the wrestling meadow

2009-05-29T23:56:00.000-07:00

standing in in empty meadow alone, he didn't quite know why he was there.

at times while he was standing,
his knees trembled with exhaustion,
but he kept on standing.
at times he would stare into the milky white moon
until his vision was filled with its pasty brilliance,
then he would stare some more.

he didn't come here to converse with God or merely talk; this wasn't "circle time".

he was here to fight: there is no goal or purpose in his standing here but to bellow profanities, scream obscenities, and vent repressed emotion in whatever unhealthy way he can think of. He was so tired of composure and patience. His heart felt too big for his body. The ocean of his ever-changing emotions threatened to overwhelm him in a tidal wave of confusion and pain. With every fiber of his dilapidated being, he cursed whatever was out there. Ever since he could remember, he has constantly struggled with the concept of a loving God. It was hard to understand such a thing when the only love he ever got from his father was between verbal and physical abuse where he would encouragingly say: "maybe you can be more like your brother".

His wailing pierces the quiet dull night and even the creatures of the surrounding vacant forest turn their heads to listen for a moment.

where God to hear his haggard cries, surely they would not leave Him unmarked.
they must be like firebrands to His soul.
they must echo in his ears like a shattering glass and raging waterfalls.
or are they more like nails on a chalkboard?

never has he felt so close to truth, yet so utterly distant from it. with every epiphany and/or self-discovery comes yet another lingering doubt. he second guesses everything right down to his very existence.

the wind catches his loose clothing, causing it to billow over his skinny wretched form. the veins on his neck bulge as he sings a song of bitterness and confusion. oh how he has hated God for so long and cursed His existence . . . that is if He even does exist! Considering the state of the world and the pain that fills it, it is almost better for the sake of God's reputation if He didn't exist. Because if He does, he certainly has some explaining to do.

just as he was thinking about how stupid he must look yelling at the dead and noiseless night,
something inside him told him to be silent.

so he closed his mouth (which was still making some sort of noise) and let the silence of the earth overtake him.

his vision is blurry. his face is hot and flushed. tears are still spilling down onto his shirt.
and as he stands there alone, overwhelmed, and trembling in the vacant meadow,
he realizes that there are so many things he definitely does not believe in:

Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and UFO's immediately came to his mind . . . just to name a few.

but never would he come out to a meadow to yell or shout at any of them.
never would he participate in an organized protest against them.
never would he even attempt to try and "wrestle" with them like this.

he realizes, that more than anything else, he is just angry with God.
but that begs the question: how could he be angry with something that does not exist?
how could his heart be so restless over something that shouldn't matter if it doesn't exist?

and the finality of the moment came crashing down against his being.

he came out here to be . . . with Someone;
he came out here to yell . . . at Someone.
he came out here to wrestle . . . with Someone.
he came out here to be loved . . . by Someone.
all this time, he was really just waiting for whoever this Someone was to show up and do something . . . anything.

and as his body began to sway with the trees,
as his heart began to beat in rhythm with the crickets,
he heard himself cry out in unison with all of humanity his need for God.

and as the surrounding quietness began to thicken like slow-forming dough,
he found himself singing a song.
And the song was this:

"oh steady faith come,
let simple trust flow.

oh fast hope come,
like the four winds blow.

oh dear Love come,
come and shake the walls
of my soul."

and there, that very night in a desolate meadow,

he wasn't given a "sign". he wasn't even shown "proof". . .

he was shown Love.

you have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been chosen.

2009-05-25T23:31:00.000-07:00

i watched my best friend get married this last weekend.

it was a beautiful wedding, filled with so much rejoicing and excitement.
Mothers wept as joy intermingled with sadness gripped their hearts.
Fathers smiled sadly as they gave what was most precious to them away to someone else.
Children ran around and did what only children can do best: fill the silence with crying or baby gibberish.

one of my favorite memories from this past weekend was during the actual wedding,
my best friend and his wife to be were asked long before the wedding by
the pastor the question: why? Why did they want to marry each other? Both wrote out their responses and it was
read to those in attendance. The cool thing was that they had not heard each others responses
until the very moment they were read to the congregation.
For some reason, this part really stuck with me.

I cannot forget what my best friend said.
He talked about how he could begin by going through all the cliches and
attempt to express the beautiful complexity that is love. He called go on and
on about how beautiful his bride was . . . how she possessed all the qualities he
so greatly desired in a spouse. But he didn't do that. Instead, when asked
why he was going to marry this particular girl, his answer was this: "Because I choose her."
Apart from the emotional highs and lows of love . . . separate from the "honeymoon phase" of marriage . . .
at the heart of my friend's love for his wife lies a choice. He has chosen this one particular girl. He has
set her apart as his own and called her to be his and his alone. Because the emotions and feelings of love will not
always be there. Love is both the affection of the heart and intellect of the mind.

There will be times when emotions fail and what will stand alone
is the commitment that was made to love; the cognitive choice to love.

In the Greek language,the word used for the deepest most committed kind of
love is agape. One of the definitions for agape reads: "the power of spirit
that results in the choosing of one amongst thousands."
There is something about being chosen. something that changes us inside.
For someone to call you out and say: "You are mine. I want you.
I choose you to be mine. I choose you. its you I want. just you. only you."

humans love to choose and pick.
it communicates value and worth to the individual chosen.
When we were little we were chosen to play kickball.
We get chosen for awards and honors.
We get picked to be on the team.
We are chosen out of a select few to be a part of something.
We are chosen. And when we get chosen, we feel loved.

The higher the emotional and spiritual risk, the more important the choosing.
When there is more at stake . . . choices become the catalyst of human existence.
Our choices change the very course of our lives.
perhaps one of the most (if not the most) important choice one will make
in this life is choice of spouse: Marriage.

I hope that you will get to experience what it is like to be chosen out of many.
To have someone pick you out of the crowd and say, "I want you".
I pray that you will get to know what it is like to feel valued and loved through
the varying degrees of emotions that humans go through.
I hope that you have the wisdom to know when to choose someone and when not
to choose someone. I pray that when you do choose, you really choose.

Because when you are angry with the way they treated you,
when you are tired from work and kids,
when morning breath threatens to overwhelm your nostrils,
when you find yourself looking into a mirror and not liking the reflection,
when you are depressed because you lose sight of meaning,
when you don't want to go to that stupid party or
hang out with those weird people that you don't know that well . . .

you made a choice. A choice to love.
you chose a person. A person to direct and devote all your love toward always.
And when you are in the darkest parts of your life together with your spouse,
when you are in the thickets of confusion and angst,
it is the choice that you made long ago that will guide you back to the light.

some of us are really good at loving in the highs.
and that is great but the human heart needs more than that.
real love is when we love in the middle and lows of life too.

because sometimes the emotions and feelings will be there.
and sometimes they won't.
but the choice . . . the choice will remain.

the jesus list

2009-04-28T08:25:00.000-07:00

if jesus is God in human flesh, then one can assume that jesus is what God looks like in human culture.
In other words, jesus illustrates for us what God would do if he walked this earth.

the Bible claims that for 33 years in human history . . . God walked this earth as a man named Jesus of Nazareth.
real time. real places. real events.

Now, I think most are aware of the Christian belief that Jesus was born, crucified, and resurrected. But what else did He do? What about all the years he spent on this earth as a human? To what did he devote his time?
Off the top of my head, I have attempted to compose a list of some of the things that God did on this earth as a human. This is my jesus list so far (feel free to add to it) :

-at an early age, he showed a thirst for truth and for His Creator.

-his parents got frustrated with him.

-he went to a lot of social gatherings.

-he performed miracles: always to meet a need of some sort; specifically, a physical need.

-he yelled at religious leaders. even insulted them and called them out.

-He picked out a group of men to be his closest friends. 3 in particular were closest to him.

-he spent a lot of time with people who had horrible reputations.

-he surrounded himself with destitute, broken, and needy people.

-he was so scared that he sweated blood.

-he promised salvation to a dying criminal.

-he lived in poverty and was homeless; he was more of a traveling wanderer than anything else.

-he depended on community.

-he wept. he glared. he exaggerated to get his point across.

-he did many things that were considered taboo by his culture.

-he loved to break down the socio-ethnic barriers of his culture; he transcended things like race and social status.

-he baffled religious geniuses and connected with the simple minded.

-he held little children and threatened those who hindered them from coming to him.

-he was deserted and misunderstood.

-he was betrayed by his closest friends.

-he constantly allowed himself to be interrupted by unimportant people.

-he took no political stance. on the contrary, he was subversively propagating a kingdom "not of this world".

-he enjoyed having meals with people.

-he would not let people call him "good" or give him praise.

-he was a story-teller.

-he performed radical love demonstrations.

-he prayed often.

-He often would go to be alone with God by himself.

-his accusers could not get any dirt on him and his oppressors could not find fault in him.

-he felt alone and vulnerable; forsaken by God.

and the list goes on and on and on.

jesus: he completely baffles me. and I love it.

he truly is unique.

out of all the people,
who have walked this earth;
out of all the kings, queens,
political leaders, activists,
emperors, peace-makers,
prophets; of all those who claimed
to know the way to Truth . . .

he is the only person that I would ever want to worship.

song of a song III.

2009-04-17T09:45:00.000-07:00

she's ablaze in beauty.

and much like the eager child
who presses his tiny hands impatiently
upon glass walls to gaze at the desires of his heart,
I stand in wide-eyed wonder;
I can only stare in awe and admiration.

she's ablaze in beauty.

and quite like the skilled musician
whose notes ring in the air with elegance
and grace that cannot be seen,
my eyes treasure all the invisible loveliness of her heart.
her precious soul is adorned with unseen splendor.

she's ablaze in beauty.

and just as the lion, savage and fierce,
can be calmed by the patience of its tamer
so I am put at peace by her,
and my restless spirit is tamed by her love.

I am no longer searching in discontent and sadness,
for she has captured my wild heart
and filled it with the purest longing.

because she's the one who is ablaze in beauty,

and I am the one captivated by her radiance.

song of a song II and learning love

2009-04-09T10:19:00.000-07:00

love is a ship
that will only sail
on the winds
of trust.

it is a treasure
that is only truly enjoyed
when it is found
after a long period
of searching.

it is a gift
that is only really appreciated
when you have waited
for it long enough.

it cannot be coerced
or manipulated.
it is by its very nature
free and wild.

it is soft as a kiss
yet as strong as death.
it turns the coward into a hero
and the poor into the wealthy.

There is nothing in this life
that is more precious and beautiful than love.

- - - - - - - - - -- - -

love is such a powerful and mysterious thing.
it is really only described . . . not defined. You cannot really
just explain it and be done with it. Or put it in a box of human logic.
It is bigger than that

paul knew this. and attempted to describe it:

"love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
it is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."

the only definition we have comes from John.

He wrote that God is love.
which makes sense in a weird way.
John is defining love by someone who is undefinable.
He is also saying all that we know about love, originally
came from God. If it were not for God, love would not exist.
He is the source of Love....The concept of it originated from His mind.
He displays it to perfection in His ways.
By His very nature....He is Love.

I would think that people who do not know God
are closest to stumbling across Him when they are in
love with someone. there is nothing else in this world
that so marvelously makes us forget ourselves like love.
there is nothing else in this world that breaks us from our
selfishness and makes us vulnerable like love.

it is when we love that we are closest to the heart of God.

humanity has known
no greater feeling or truth
than the reality of love.

true love is something that can only be learned.
and we learn real love in the hardest ways.

I hope God is teaching you each and every day more about what it is to truly love.
If we are to learn true and real love, we have to go to Him and let Him teach us.

After all, it was His idea in the first place.

real revolution

2009-03-30T09:46:00.000-07:00

"everybody wants a revolution, but no one wants to do the dishes"

there are men and women all across this barren land that are shouting about something.
they stand on rooftops and stages. they preach from pulpits of hidden motives.
they write books and blogs (guilty as charged).

they shout about issues, beliefs, and controversies.
some even dare to promise revolution; to make a difference.
they shout, scream, and holler. but they expect others to do the real work of change.

they want revolution. but they don't want to do the dishes.

they have idealism without realism;
vision without practicality.
courage without love;
promises without action.

but there are some people, a rare and precious few, who shout with their lives.

these people don't remain aloof from the things they preach about. no, that which
they preach is "even more fully in their heart". intimately acquainted with needs,
they are the kings who disguise themselves and become beggars in order to live among their own people.

it's the people who believe in something and allow it to permeate their lives.
there is no disconnection or incongruity between what they believe and how they live.
for them, Truth and action are not to be divorced . . . they are to be lovers that belong with each other.

these people proclaim revolution. and they do the dishes.

indeed, these are the real revolutionaries.
and when the world is confronted with people like this....change ensues.

its when martin luther king jr. preached nonviolence, then after having his home bombed by white-racists, he told the angry mob of blacks around his house (who wanted to fight back) to meet hate with love and go home.
its when mother theresa spoke against abortion at the White House then reached out her hands asking mothers to not abort the child, but to give the babies to her instead.
its when jesus preached love for enemies, then got on his knees and washed his betrayers feet.
these are a unique breed of people; "the world is not worthy of them".

a people whose throats are strained from proclaiming truth;
and whose knees are bruised from kneeling with the broken.
a people who cry out for justice in public;
and silently sit with the downtrodden in private.

a people of revolution. and a people who do the dishes.

to those of you who have ears to hear, hear this:

all that is needed to bridge
the gaping chasm between
faith and deeds,
is one person; one real revolutionary.

ontological mess

2009-03-25T09:44:00.000-07:00

for every human person, every need has a corresponding answer.

You hunger? there is such a thing as food.
You thirst? there is such a thing as water.
You desire community? there is such a thing as friendship.
You desire intimacy? there is such a thing as love.
You want to express yourself? there are such things as art, writing, dance, etc.

for all needs you may have, there is somehow an answer; a matching fulfillment.

So here is where I say that there is a need for the transcendent, namely, God.
And a corresponding answer to the need is of course, God.
But not so fast you say.

I don't need God and I definitely don't desire Him.

I can respect that.
but why does such a thing (the need for God) exist in the first place?
Why do some humans (not you of course) experience a need for something divine in the first place?

Why oh why, would the human being have a need for something that does not exist?
How is it possible to desire something in the first place, if that thing does not exist?

You had to be told about the concept of a fairy before you desired its existence.
You had to be told about the concept of a unicorn before you desired existence.

but, some people have a raw impulse for God. they were born with an innate desire for God.... without having been previously told that He existed.

a raw, natural, intuitive desire for the transcendent. without ever having been told of the concept of the transcendent.

ancient civilizations believed in the divine without ever having to first be told about the existence of the divine.
humanity was born with an innate desire for something more than this world has to offer.
without ever being told about God in the first place.

what does that mean?

it means that maybe you should think about why it is that you have a need for something more than what you can see in front of you.
it means that maybe there is something more and you should at least investigate.

after all, the unexamined life is not worth living.

on hell

2009-03-18T01:11:00.000-07:00

there are many different views on the subject of hell.
A plethora of theologians argue and debate constantly over this subject. Will people be punished forever? Or will they be punished for an alloted time, then annihilated? Other questions rise to the surface as well: How does a loving God live with Himself while people are suffering eternally? Surely, after some time, he would restore these people or grant them the favor of abolishing their souls forever. Isn't the concept of hell completely incongruent with a loving God anyway? What is hell like for the damned? What sort of punishment is being administered to its inhabitants? Is it a emotional/mental retribution? Does it involved excruciating physical pain? Or is it all three? Are the degrees of punishment contingent upon the degree of evil in the person being punished? Is it a "lake of fire"? Is there a dude with horns and a pitch-fork laughing the whole time?

The greek word used for hell is "gehenna" in the New Testament. "Gehenna" is the Christian rendering of "Ge Hinnon", literally "Valley of Hinnom". In the Old Testament, the word used is "Gai Ben-Hinnom", which refers to a real valley in Jerusalem. This valley is located outside the city, and it is basically a garbage dump where waste is burned. Stemming from this idea, many think that hell well be a place outside the city of God, where the filth of humanity dwells. This presents problems too: How could God and His people (his holy, loving people) be rejoicing while others (including loved ones) are being tortured outside?

as you can see, there is a lot of questions pertaining to the subject of hell.
I won't attempt to answer what only God can fully answer.
But here is what I think are the underlying foundations of hell:

1. Hell is a place of isolation.

One could even use this metaphorically and say: "Hell is the absence of God; God-isolation". The earth as we know it is not devoid of the presence of God. The natural processes that God instilled are still running. God is still working/sustaining life despite spiritual opposition from unknown forces and internal opposition in the hearts of mankind. Even though at certain times in history, we have seen glimpses of it (i.e. the Holocaust), the world has not experienced the complete abandonment of God's presence. For God to completely turn his back on the world is something so horrible, so horrifying that it is reserved only for the enemies of God in the afterlife. (Ironically, we see in the Gospels how Christ experienced the complete abandonment of God when he was dying on the cross. He cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Indeed, Jesus was punished as an enemy of God. In the crucifixion, Jesus of Nazareth becomes the first living person in history to fully experience Hell). Humanity as we know it, could not withstand the magnitude of that catastrophe. Could you imagine what it would be like for the Creator of life to abandon the creation that is sustained by His very breath? Nothing in this world is more unnatural and appalling than that.

2. On this earth we have experienced/caught glimpses of hell itself.

Some people are so isolated and alone that they are already experiencing a pinch of hell in this life. Perhaps that is why Mother Theresa said, "The most terrible poverty is loneliness and the feeling of being unloved". We see hell reflected in the darkest of evils on earth as well: genocide, rape, abortion (controversy alert!), suicide bombings, etc. We see hell in dead babies and starving, pot-bellied children. We see hell in tsunamis that kill thousands upon thousands. We see hell in victims of sexual abuse. We see hell when we look deeply into the eyes of a sex-trafficked girl.
Some people, are so caught up in their personal hate, their life of sin, that they have ceased to become evil . . . they are evil; an "object of wrath" . . . they are the people whose natures have become utterly evil. These people are so consumed that there is no turning back for them, mainly because they have lost all notions of goodness. To love would be unnatural for them, conflicting with their nature.

3. God did not create hell.

we did. from the first moment an opportunity arose, humanity as a collective whole has been sinning. We are naturally inclined to resist God's will, thereby imposing our own. Perhaps that is all hell is. A place where those who reject God's way finally get their way. A place where the loving God sorrowfully gives people what they really want.

And to our everlasting shame, it is a place that must exist because in the end, we have chosen not God. And the only alternative to not having God is a existence of isolation. If God is the creator of reality, than those who chose other than Him have chosen nothingness . . . a void of nonexistence.

to whomever it may concern

2009-03-16T20:02:00.000-07:00

You woke up today and without even thinking for a millisecond,
You took a breath. Raising your head off your stained blue pillow,
You fill your empty, lifeless lungs with sustaining existence once again.
Looking out the window, the first rays of dawn are seeping into your bedroom and
you don't give a damn. just another day.
You sigh and realize with every unthinking breath, you choose to constantly live.

It's an involuntary necessity of life.

Walking into the office, you cast a tight-lipped glance at someone that annoys you. That someone
notices of course. They ponder for 1 minute and 35 seconds about why you might hate them. Maybe
the look you gave was just . . . bad timing? Walking down the corridor to the lunch room, you see
an attractive coworker making copies. As if in protest, the thought of your spouse comes to your mind.

You fantasize anyway.

Its 4:30 pm and work is almost over. You decide to check out a little early and begin the brief walk home.
The air hits your skin and in response you look up. The sky is ironically beautiful in light of your mundane day. It looks like a half-done canvas waiting to become a finished portrait; a mass of blue sky, pink ambience, and hazy gold radiating off the fading sun. Thoughts of why you continue in this meaningless routine echo in your mind. This job is duty without pleasure . . . work without joy. Your head hangs low as you continue to walk. You keep your eyes fixated on the jagged cracks in the sidewalk. Memories of your life flood into your mind and play like an old-fashioned movie; black and white images of the past that won't stop moving.

You wonder what it is that has kept you going all these years.

You open the door to your tiny, one-bedroom apartment. The smell of chinese food mixed with Fabreeze overpowers
your nostrils. The apartment is empty, devoid of any intelligent life except yours. Everything is silent and still. . . everything, that is, except for you. You internally rage at whatever or whomever contrived your pathetic existence; if God created this, what the hell was he thinking? You would scream, but who do you scream at? You would curse at someone or something, but who is there to blame? All thoughts of God aside, you've chosen your own path and this is where it has led: a dying marriage, shallow friendships, and a job that makes you want to jump in front of an on-coming semi. Your face is hot from the building tears in your eyes.

You let them fall.

And it is at precisely at this moment that you turn against yourself. Every vile thought of contempt that you direct at others, every exasperating feeling that you've buried, and every despairing emotion that has stayed on the edge of your consciousness now crashes into your mind all at once. It erupts like a massive volcano that threatens to overwhelm you; a charging stampede that tramples you, leaving you in a heap of guilt and shame. This is becoming a daily routine.

A soft knock at the door interrupts your thoughts.

You hastily wipe your face and go to the door. As you swing the door open, you find yourself looking into the pale face of a young man about the age of 20. He has a name tag and tie on. He begins a rehearsed greeting and already, you aren't even listening. Before long, he starts to sound like the teacher off of Charlie Brown: "WaWaWaWa". You're trying to figure out what religion he is as you slam the door in his face.
You look over at the coffee table. Your eyes scan across the laminated cover of the book lying on top of it. A christian who works with you gave it to you to read. "The Shack", it's called. You started to read it and it had you at first. But when you got to the part where God was represented as an old black woman, you couldn't stop laughing. It was the most ridiculous thing ever. Sometimes religious people are so cheesy. You wonder (in some impossible way) if they are all related to Mr. Rogers. You wonder if they are aware that they are completely irrelevant to humanity. And if they are aware, do they even care enough to change? You just don't see the point.

You need something real. something you can relate to.
something that doesn't answer everything with gimmicks
and formulas, but makes sense of it all.
something that makes you feel alive.
something that doesnt solve all your problems
but helps you cope with them. something that
would for once give you some peace. something
that doesn't make you hate yourself but saves
you from yourself. something that doesn't just focus
on life after death, but life before death.

or is it even something?
maybe it's someone.
or maybe you're just all alone.

a choice of nature

2009-03-15T21:29:00.000-07:00

you've tethered insecurities to your soul
with tightly woven chords of indignity.

you've sowed seeds of worth
into worthless things that will fade like grass.

and with every
small choice,
with every
insignificant decision,
the shifting and swirling sand
of your nature,
is hardening
into unmovable granite.

you're sailing on a heavy-laden ship that bears
you on a severe current of deception.

you've accepted the invitation to a feast of lies,
where everyone fights to be the guest of honor.

and with every
small choice,
with every
insignificant decision,
the spiraling and seething shadows
of your being
are becoming darker.

you're living in fake house of false hope,
and all the while there are wolves at the door.

you've prostituted yourself to cheap pleasures;
idols that never cease to leave you empty.

and with every
small choice,
with every
insignificant decision,
the twisting and spinning fabrics
of your soul
are becoming
a garment that
you will wear
for all eternity.

the light

2009-03-12T09:22:00.000-07:00

a golden silhouette pervades
and highlights all of existence.
a light so bright that it interrupts the dawn.

a gleaming halo of splendor and radiance;
seeking its way across the fields of time.
its warm essence enraptures the soul;
a light that gives meaning in destitute darkness.

"how long will this starless night last?",
cried the children.
"how long will shadow overtake us?",
the widows lamented.
"how long will the the hearts of men hide?",
the poor shouted.

for the wintry loneliness,
that seizes the heart
with its frigid and icy hands,
has taken hold of us all.

our eyes are dead with darkness;
but surely the light will come.

to a multitude,
a tiny candle in the unlikely distance;
a luster that somehow catches the eye.

to several,
a flashlight bursting forth amidst trees in the bleak woods;
a hazy glow in the quiet recesses of the mind.

and to some, to a rare few:
a blazing firelight that rages on in furious passion,
a burning star of hope that fights to shine.

surely the light will come.
surely dear child,
the light is here.

"You, O Lord, keep my lamp burning;
my God turns my darkness into light." -Psalm 18:28

the psalmist and the pretender

2009-02-27T08:56:00.000-08:00

what have I,
but these poor hands?
I wring them in worry.
what have I,
but these wretched thoughts?
I am hopelessly pensive.

shame covers me all the day long.
a blanket of isolation shrouds my inner being.
I am the quintessential craven man;
feeble, frail, and fragile

it is in this that I wonder
am I the psalmist
or the pretender?
shall I sing in the sun beams?
or continue to murmur in darkness?

"work, son of man, work
labor, offspring of adam, labor
toil, child of dirt, toil
die, heir of death, die:
return to the dust from whence you came"

Oh God hear this and think of me.
when my blood is poured out on life's altar,
and my days have dwindled down to nothingness,
will I still be heavy on your mind?

surely Oh God,
my cries echo in your being;
surely Father,
they are not distant from your heart.
indeed, you are closer than any sorrow.

and from somewhere in-between the shadows of reality,
transcending space, matter, and time;
you will find me
i know this. you will find me.

and in that moment,
these eyes of mourning,
will become fountains of joy.

song of a song.

2009-02-14T00:38:00.000-08:00

all things radiant

and shimmering:

you are scintillating fireworks

in a night sky; your bright beauty

never fades

all things things meek

and gentle:

you are quiet strength;

a lighthouse of enduring hope amidst

the crashing waves

all things mysterious

and pure:

you are a soul untamed;

a undomesticated heart

that beats with grace

a lily among thorns;

a dazzling diamond

amidst the rough and dull.

in a deep bed of stars,

you shine like the sun.

all things and more:

you are

and I will wait.

never to arouse

what shouldn't be awoken

and I will trust.

for this temporal loneliness

will fade in the garden of our love.

hear the whisper

2009-02-12T11:03:00.000-08:00

let the impoverished souls

and the meek minded

let the hungry and thirsty;

those who love what is good

and all those whose cries for justice

echo in hollow nights

hear:

"I have always loved you"

a voice; a whisper

gentle like a mother's loving hands

strong like a father's warm embrace

calm as the sea-breeze

and soft as falling feathers

hear:

"I love you"

and the voice; the whisper

refuses to leave those who would hear it

and the voice; the whisper

remains in the hearts of those who need it

hear:

"I will always love you"

listen and wait;

be still child

the whisper comes . . .

and with it

we will chance to brave this day

"and surely I am with you always"

words. words. words. Word.

2009-02-11T21:54:00.000-08:00

to children of dust and breath;

to the sons and daughers

of the four corners of earth:

words toss us back

and toss us forth

often they leave bodies broken;

and hearts torn asunder

never to recover

we make ourselves subjects to them:

a king and his serfs

a master and his slaves

how long will they oppress us?

words from friend, family, and foe

remain in the deepest chamber of our hearts;

they lie in silent anticipation

waiting to pounce on the

insecurities of waking warriors . . .

behold what was written long ago:

good words existed in the beginning

hate.rebellion.perversity and insurrection:

evil words were given existence

and all was surely lost.

but then,

words that were once good

words that were once timeless

have been spoken into a timely Word

words that were once too good to be true

have been made reality by the Word

justice. grace. truth.

beauty. mercy.

goodness. love.

woven intricately in palpability,

existing all together in one Form,

residing perfectly in one Word

and with unsurmountable might,

evil words were tread underfoot

they were crushed forever

when we let go of corrupted words,

something mends in a broken heart

when we let go of shameful words,

something awakens in a dead life

to children of dust and breath;

to the sons and daughters

of the four corners of the earth:

you were not meant for these weak words,

but for the one Word

that embodies all words

that are faithful and true.

the spirit: willing. the body: weak.

2009-01-31T23:21:00.000-08:00

the body walks through time

like a well-oiled machine

and there are traces;

traces of the soul

that dwells in this machine:

this flesh-structure that remains as clock hands run;

a continuation of cheap existence

a perpetuation of downward spirals

until the spirit inside is awoken somehow

awarding meaning to the meaningless

and endless value to the worthless

how long, frail body, how long?

how long must you travel

how long will you live

and continue to neglect what lies within

listen carefully, and you can hear it roaming about

a distant echo clattering;

this vivacious soul

has become a shadow;

a ghost in an empty attic

for one day, the body will rot

yet the spirit will remain

and by then it will be too late.

for this once great spirit

has become a mere ghost.

to make the new visible

2009-01-31T01:35:00.000-08:00

there are some people I can not stand.

some people I just hate being around.

until I connect with them in some way.

wether it be hearing their story,

listening to their problems,

sitting with them in silence . . .ect.

somehow it disarms me.

and I see them in a new way.

I am convinced that great relational life consists

of seeing people in innovative ways.

in order to maintain

loving and edifying relationships,

you must learn to see people in a new way.

quit categorizing people and putting them

into mental boxes: "okay, she is one of THOSE

types of girls . . . "Oh, he is totally THAT type of guy".

That is how we demean and belittle each other.

God made us beautifully complex

and incomprehensibly unique.

Once you think you know everything

there is to know about someone, you claim

to know that which only God Himself can know.

Never lose the wonder of people; the sanctity of the soul.

There is always more to others than meets the eye.

a story, an event, a memory, a trait . . . we are an

endless mystery of God; a being that endures through

death.

you have to find a way to connect and overcome

your preconcieved notions of dislike.

look for new ways to see people.

for there is an abundance of beauty

to be found in every new creation.

this bread tastes like hypocrisy

2009-01-30T23:55:00.000-08:00

"give us this day our daily bread"

this phrase from the Lord's prayer drives me bonkers.

what am I to do with something like this.

Me: a rich white spoiled priviliged American.

I've never known what it is like to not know when I am going to eat again.

I have not experienced severe hunger . . . worry of what I am going to eat next has never

been a problem.

In fact, whenever I pray this particular prayer . . . I feel somewhat ridiculous.

and slightly hypocritical. only slightly . . . then I realize that I'm such a great pharisee. (sarcasm)

there are tons of people around the world who pray this

prayer and when they say "give us this day our daily bread", it means something to them. that is actually their reality.

I suppose I could try and just ignore it; maybe even skip over it.

but it will not leave me alone.

and I wonder why. should I give up all I have until obtaining food becomes an issue? should I live way below my means?

I am not really sure.

I am unsure of the details but I am sure that there is a deeper principle to be gleaned here: Dependence on God.

one of the greatest and most efficient human abilities is the ability to forget God. it is funny how dependance puts God where He should be in the human mind. it forces humanity to look outside itself and it's possesions. it brings about vulnerability in us all. makes us a little weaker and frail. more limited and finite.

so give up things more often.

start out small.

let go and really let go.

feel the freedom that comes from it.

embrace a vulnerable dependance on God.

and maybe, when you pray "give us this day our daily bread",

instead of being berated with feelings of guilt,

you'll smile because you have actually

given God a chance to provide for you.

a beautiful synthesis

2009-01-24T13:01:00.000-08:00

"The strong man holds in a living blend strongly marked opposites. Not ordinarily do men achieve this balance of opposites. The idealists are not usually realistic, and the realists are not usually idealistic. The militant are not generally known to be passive, nor the passive to be militant. Seldom are the humble self-assertive, or the self-assertive humble. But life at its best is a creative synthesis of opposties in fruitful harmony." -taken from "Strength to Love" by Martin Luther King Jr.

gentle grace and unyielding truth

toughmindedness and tenderheartedness

unlogical faith and rational reason

this world does not need one-dimensional people.

this world needs conflicted people of balance.

people who can proclaim truth and practice it

at the same time. people who express their faith through action and in their action express their faith.

people who are broken yet firm. people who are vulnerable yet strong.

"I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves." -Matthew 10:16

"It is good to grasp the one and not let go of the other. The man who fears God will avoid all extremes." -Eccelsiates 7:18

jesus the human

2009-01-09T20:40:00.000-08:00

And Jesus said unto them, "And whom do you say that I am?"

They replied, "You are the eschatological manifestation of the ground of our being, the ontological foundation of the context of our very selfhood revealed."

And Jesus replied, "What?"