Roan

GOD has blessed me beyond any of my past hopes and dreams.

I am a humbled man married to a beautiful woman who adores me for a reason I cannot fathom.
I am a joyous father to a sweet little 2 year old girl whose bright eyes light my world.
But I am also a man in mourning of the death of my firstborn son who lived only 5 days.
It has been less than three weeks since he left us.

He will never run across a field.
He will never ride a bicycle through our neighborhood.
He will never play in the mud after a rain.
He will never ask me how to tie his shoes.
He will never play with his sister in her 'rocket ship' (playhouse/swing set)
He will never ask me for the car keys.
He will never feel his first real kiss.
He will never have to tell me "Dad, I got this, don't worry!"
He will never smile at me.

GOD has robbed me of my future hopes and dreams.

This was not supposed to happen!
He was supposed to be born with no problems, taken home and live with his family.
Our worries would come later as he and his sister grew up.

It wasn't supposed to happen!
It isn't right!
Why?!!!?
We prayed. We cried out. We cried out to You! We trusted You!
Why?
He was as innocent as any mortal can be in this life.
Why?!!!?

It's not fair! I know life isn't fair but You could have saved him. You didn't have to take him. What good can come from this? Why did you let this happen?

My wife is absolutely heartbroken. I cannot help her. I am helpless. What are we supposed to do?

Why give him to us and then take him away so soon?

He was our son. Our beautiful little boy.

Oh GOD have mercy on me!

"Wedding Dress"

"Wedding Dress" - Derek Webb
Appears on: "She Must and Shall Go Free"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mvQRd7D9BDM

If You could love me as a wife
And for my wedding gift, Your life
Should that be all I’d ever need?
Or is there more I’m looking for?

And should I read between the lines?
And search for blessings in disguise
To make me handsome, rich, and wise
Is that really what you want?


‘Cause I am a whore I do confess
But I put You on just like a wedding dress
And I run down the aisle, I run down the aisle
I’m a prodigal with no way home
But I put You on just like a ring of gold
And I run down the aisle
I run down the aisle from You


So could You love this bastard child?
Though I don’t trust You to provide
With one hand in a pot of gold
And with the other in Your side


‘Cause I am so easily satisfied
By the call of lovers so less wild
That I would take a little cash
Over Your very flesh and blood


‘Cause I am a whore I do confess 
But I put You on just like a wedding dress
And I run down the aisle, I run down the aisle
I’m a prodigal with no way home
But I put You on just like a ring of gold
And I run down the aisle
I run down the aisle from You



Because money cannot buy
A husband’s jealous eye
When you have knowingly deceived his wife


‘Cause I am a whore I do confess
But I put You on just like a wedding dress
And I run down the aisle, I run down the aisle
I’m a prodigal with no way home
But I put You on just like a ring of gold
And I run down the aisle
I run down the aisle
I am a whore I do confess
But I put You on just like a wedding dress
And I run down the aisle, I run down the aisle
I’m a prodigal with no way home
But I put You on just like a ring of gold
And I run down the aisle
I run down the aisle to You

Wanderer

My stomach churns. I cry out. I lament. I have wandered far from you (again) & you are silent, yet I wonder "Why?". I'm such a fool.

Another chisel dulled trying to carve an idol out of stone. I guess I should say an 'idol of flesh & spirit' but it doesn't go w/the song ringing in recesses of my mind.

Rejected once again. I'm so tired of this. So alone.

Do You want me to be alone? Why teach me the things You have taught me? Why show me what my eyes have seen if it weren't for some purpose? You know I'm no good alone. I wander so much further downward when I'm alone.

But how can I not be alone & still keep You 'front & center' in my heart, soul & in my very life? I'm not getting any younger! I have wasted so much of my life! Can You really return the years the locusts have eaten? I once believed so. Now, I find myself doubting. You were probably just speaking to the Isrealites anyway.

Where is my faith? I know You are faithful, but my heart is weary & my soul thirsts for what I know is You, yet my neck is stiff & my head is hard. Have mercy on me O' Most Soverign Lord.

"Faithful To Me" Jennifer Knapp
All the chisels I've dulled carving idols of stone

that have crumbled like sand 'neath the waves
I've recklessly built all my dreams in the sand,
just to watch them all wash away

Through another day, another trial
Another chance to reconcile
To One who sees past all I've seen,
and reaching out my weary hand,
I pray that you'd understand,
You're the only one who's faithful to me.


All the pennies I've wasted in my wishing well
I have thrown like stones to the sea.
I have cast my lots, dropped my guard, searched aimlessly,
for a faith to be faithful to me.

Through another day, another trial,
Another chance to reconcile
To One who sees past all I've seen,
and reaching out my weary hand,
I pray that you'd understand,
You're the only one who's faithful to me.
You're the only one who's faithful to me.

Oh Me Of Little Faith...

I obviously haven't written much lately, haven't read much either. Been busy w/life I guess. I rarely do either when it is nice outside. It's really nice today & a friend of mine wanted me to go riding. It was tempting. Nevertheless, here I am. Thoughts swirling around so incessantly that I feel compelled to write, knowing I will not capture the force that agitates my soul. The quantity and even the raw eloquence can only be hinted at through such a limited mode of communication. Yet I must try.

Stirred to move, yet I have no direction. Tired of waiting....of repeating the same old laments.

I think I have spent my whole life waiting for someone's approval, or someone to give me direction. Waiting.....hesitating....

I wonder if it started with my father's silence. Doesn't matter now I guess. It is what it is.

The truth is......I'm scared. I scared of what is to come....of what will not come.....of what GOD might ask of me.....and what He won't.

Here I sit. Frozen in indecision.....no, that doesn't cover it. It is more than mere indecision. There is something else that I cannot describe or even comprehend. Is it something I have misunderstood or that I can't quite grasp or is it something I'm missing entirely? Something is rotten in my own personal Denmark. And like Hamlet, I find myself continuing to struggle with the discontent of my soul.

What do You want from me GOD? What do You want for me?

What do I want from You? What do I want for You?

I have nothing to give. Except me. That is what really scares me the most. I don't want to let go for the fear of what that might mean. Of what it might not. 

Oh my GOD, why do You take notice of me? Why don't You give up? Am I not worthless? 

I am the woman at the well, I am the harlot
I am the scattered seed that fell along the path
I am the son that ran away
And I am the bitter son that stayed

My God, my God why hast thou accepted me
When all my love was vinegar to a thirsty King?
My God, my God why hast thou accepted me
It's a mystery of mercy and the song, the song I sing

I am the angry man who came to stone the lover
I am the woman there ashamed before the crowd
I am the leper that gave thanks
But I am the nine that never came

My God, my God why hast thou accepted me
When all my love was vinegar to a thirsty King?
My God, my God why hast thou accepted me
It's a mystery of mercy and the song, the song I sing

You made the seed that made the tree
That made the cross that saved me
You gave me hope when there was none
You gave me your only Son

My God,My God,Lord you are my God.
My God,My God,Lord you are my God.
My God,My God,Lord you are my God.
My God,My God,Lord you are...my God...

I cannot fathom Your love.

I have stolen, Lord, let me give
I have left Your house a fugitive
I have wandered in my own way
Squandered everything You gave
But my dying heart You saved and let me live

I have cursed the air and clenched my fists
I have hungered for Your righteousness
I have tried to walk the line
I drew between Your heart and mine
But You forgive me every time the mark is missed

Help me sing the rest of this song. Help me with my unbelief. My lack of trust.

So take my broken offering and make it whole
And set my feet upon the road that leads me home
Let me walk as one fixed upon the goal
Even though I've got a thousand miles to go

I have sought Your grace in my defense
I have plundered Your magnificence
Until my journey is complete
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
That I might sow what I have reaped
From Your great love

As I struggle for Your hand
You use me in ways I can't understand
You take this sinful man and renew me
Working through me...

Help me to remember that You sing this to each of us that believe...

Castles they might crumble
Dreams may not come true
But you are never all alone
Because I will always
Always love you

Clouds will rage
And storms will race in
But you will be safe in My arms
Rains will pour down
Waves will crash all around
But you will be safe in My arms

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dd2ibavdyfM

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ECpA6489e30

 

"Mystery of Mercy" & "Thousand Miles" by Caedmon's Call
"In My Arms" by Plumb (taken somewhat out of context yet applicable; emphasis mine)

Just Breathe....

words by Pearl Jam
(emphasis mine)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XTb9GNIxpMk

Yes I understand that every life must end, aw huh...
As we sit alone, I know someday we must go, aw huh...
I'm a lucky man to count on both hands
The ones I love...

Some folks just have one
Others they got none, aw huh...

Stay with me
Let's just breathe

Practiced are my sins
Never gonna let me win, aw huh...
Under everything, just another human being, aw huh...
Yea, I don't wanna hurt, there's so much in this world
To make me bleed

Stay with me
You're all I see

Did I say that I need You?
Did I say that I want You?
Oh, if I didn't I'm a fool You see
No one knows this more than me
As I come clean

I wonder everyday
As I look upon Your face, aw huh...
Everything You gave
And nothing You would take, aw huh...
Nothing You would take
Everything You gave

Did I say that I need You?
Did I say that I want You?
Oh, if I didn't I'm a fool You see
No one knows this more than me
As I come clean

Nothing You would take
Everything You gave
Hold me 'till I die
Meet You on the other side....

For my friend Brian (it speaks to me too, although in a different way, but still....)

Arrant Knaves All

"I am myself indifferent honest; but yet I could accuse me of such things that it were better my mother had not born me: I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious; with more offences at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in. What should such fellows as I do crawling between heaven & earth? We are arrant knaves all; believe none of us."

Hamlet Act III, Scene I

My Friend Is A Real Payne!

A little 'play on words' w/the title that only he knows. ;O) I say that because I have a friend who continually challenges me, not really with his words or actions; although I find those to be indicative of the core issue that begets my discomfort. It is his heart. It aspires so much...and so purely. He would vehemently disagree, as I would if anyone dared to say something like that about me. But like David lamenting that he 'lived in a house made of cedar, while the Ark of The Covenant dwelt in a tent' (paraphrased), my friend 'sees' his life with such a virtuous focus on the eternal. No matter how much I learn and grow in my understanding of GOD, when we talk I am continually reminded of how 'earthly' my thinking is. But it is then I have to remind myself: Christ is the whetstone, not him; he is iron just like me. Two rough broken swords sharpening one another to return to battle, hopefully a little more prepared for the fight than before.

My friend is on my mind because he has a decision to make....and no one can help him make it, not me, not anyone. Even GOD remains silent. He stands at a precipitous worse than just the unknown, but two unknowns. A choice. One that will have ramifications affecting the rest of his life. Like the rest of us, he can't turn back, the past is gone. At this cliff, he can turn and look back at his past for instruction, but the glass wall that he must peer through is dim and opaque from his own limited human perspective. But even the path of his (as well as our own) history is uneven and full of twists and turns, so it brings him no comfort or trustworthy advice.

Still, he must choose.

As he told me his story, I struggled to grasp the enormity of what he faces. I did not have a clue. I tried to be objective, offer what insight I could....but I thought to myself: 'I got nuthin'. But that didn't keep me from trying, oh no, not me! The problem was, I couldn't (and still can't) separate the choice I would make when faced with a similar decision from what he would/should chose, so during our conversation I found myself unknowingly 'living vicariously' through him in this decision. I couldn't help myself. He saw it though, I guess it was pretty obvious. But graciously he listened, wading through my misguided uncomprehending words searching (most likely in vain) for some nugget of wisdom or insight that he hadn't thought of yet. But I take solace in that no matter what I nor anyone else could have said, it would not have helped him make his decision. What he really wanted and the one thing I could supply was simply friendship. So, like so many times he has for me, I was able to 'be there' for him. And now I realize that was all he was asking for. And I think he knew that the whole time anyway.

It is good to have a friend that understands you (at least to some degree), accepts you in all your inadequacies, does not judge and trusts you with his/her life. I guess we both can say that. That, I believe is true friendship.

Bartering With Time

 "I thought change was just a coin, a nickel or a dime, but it's what we lose and all we gain, we barter with time..." M. Radford, S.McCracken

Today I was reminded...... or maybe I first realized that I have become very much different than my family, I'm not sure which one it is. Or maybe closer to the point, I am much more different than the man I was. It's like I was on a particular track through my upbringing and  environment, then suddenly jumped off and went my own way (finally). I think that is good in a lot of ways but in others....not so much. But there has been movement, one might even call it growth.

In the past few years I've found instead of hanging pictures and setting the table, GOD has been tearing down walls and overturning tables. And the truth is, many of my walls have been reinforced w/steel beams and concrete, while I've nailed some of tables to the floor. This renovation has not been an altogether pleasant experience I assure you. Yet truth be known, I wouldn't have it any other way. Christ has been one irresistible force to me. No matter how immovable I thought myself to be, His power & patience has been much greater. During this span of time, I've experienced Him more and I have been closer to Him than all the years before, yet amidst the very same span of years I have sinned greater and more often as well. That doesn't seem to make sense. Another one of GOD's ironies, I suppose.
But that's the funny thing tonight. I think I'm feeling the effects of all this demolition, or maybe now it is the reconstruction. Whatever it is, it isn't altogether bad....actually it is very pleasant. Must be a small valley in the midst of this journey of life. A respite. Interesting. I have rarely taken the time to acknowledge the 'roses', little alone smell them. This is kind of cool.

Totally out of context, but a quote from Puck in Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream comes to mind: "Lord, what fools these mortals be!"; times like these I can find the humor in man's (my) foolishness. It's like I finally notice the proverbial 'elephant' that has been in the room the whole time. The 'elephant' being the realization of the perspective I have on .....well just about everything as opposed to either the perspective I had or the viewpoint I expected I would have. Like before, it doesn't really matter which, it is just the difference that seems so immense.

Evidently, (@ least by my FB status responses) this is common to a lot of people. My problem is that it seems like I've moved, but my family are basically the same & now I have to fight back the feeling of superiority & that despicable 'holier than thou' feeling that I cannot stand in other people. But here it sits with me like an unwanted guest. A pastor friend of Donald Miller (the author of 'Blue Like Jazz) once told him "Knowledge puffs up" when Don was talking what he believed a biblical passage he had been studying meant. Hmmmph...I think he's right, at least with me about this. Humility, the shy virtue, as B. Reynolds calls her. She quietly leaves the room whenever she's acknowledged.



Now, at midnight on Sunday, after starting this days ago, hoping for some resolution through written verbalization and maybe some feedback from a few respected peers, I find mind dwelling on other things; mostly because of a visit from a dear friend over the weekend. I'm not complaining, I'm glad actually. As with all of our conversations, he makes me think of much more eternal things and how we struggle with them within our 'flawed vessels'. I know the original issue I started out with has been placed on the 'unresolved section' within the library of my soul, but I would be remiss if I didn't listen to my muse and write what dominates my mind & heart now. But I guess that will have to be different post....

I Just Don't Know

I don't. I don't have clue.

USS Hayter DE-212

USS HAYTER DE-212

DEPARTMENT OF THE NAVY -- NAVAL HISTORICAL CENTER
805 KIDDER BREESE SE -- WASHINGTON NAVY YARD
WASHINGTON DC 20374-5060

USS Hayter DE-212
Hubert Montgomery Hayter was born in Abingdon, Va., 17 October 1901, and graduated from the Naval Academy in 1924. In the following years he served on battleship Arizona, destroyer Yarborough, and other ships, taking command of Ramsay (DM-16) in 1939. Lt. Comdr. Hayter was transferred to New Orleans 5 February 1941. and was killed during an action with Japanese forces off Savo Island 30 November 1942. Hayter was serving as damage control officer when New Orleans received a torpedo hit, and as Central Station, his battle post, filled with asphyxiating gas, he ordered all men without masks to leave the compartment, giving his own to a partially stricken seaman. After clearing the compartment of all personnel, Lt. Cmdr. Hayter was finally overcome by the fumes. For this extraordinary act of heroism, he was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross.
USS Hayter (APD-80)
ex
USS Hayter (DE-212) (1944 - 1945)

DE-212 (Destroyer Escort)
displacement 1400 tons; length 306'; beam 36'10"; draft 9'5" ; speed 24 knots; complement 186; armament 3 3-inch gins, 3 21-inch torpedo tubes, 2 depth charge tracks, 8 depth charge projectors, 1 depth charge projector (hedge hog), class Buckley)

International Radio Call Sign:
NZHB

November

Zulu

Hotel

Bravo





USS Hayter (DE-212) was launched by Charleston Navy Yard, Charleston, S.C., 11 November 1943; sponsored by Mrs. Maurine K. Hayter, widow of the namesake; and commissioned at Charleston 16 March 1944, Lt. Comdr. Harold H. Theriault in command.

Hayter departed Charleston 7 April 1944 for shakedown training off Bermuda, and subsequently was asigned to an escort division for Atlantic duty at the end of May. Between 1 June and 30 November 1944 she made three voyages to Europe, two from Norfolk to Bizerte and one from Casco, Maine, to Bizerte. During the voyages Hayter provided anti-submarine protection and transferred the division doctor to many merchant ships in the convoy needing medical assistance.

After spending the month of December in the Boston Navy Yard, Hayter sailed 2 January 1945 on a special duty in the Atlantic, with other units of Escort Division 62. Their assignment—to find and sink German submarine U-248, which had been sending vital weather reports to Axis units from the Azores area. The ships conducted several search sweeps before a HF/DF fix pointed the escorts in the right direction at 0647 on 16 January. At 0908, Hayter made a sound contact on the submarine, and after a series of five depth charge patterns lasting two hours, of which Hayter made two, "clothing, books, flesh and debris" appeared on the surface. Hayter patrolled the Azores for another week before joining a convoy screen for the voyage back to Norfolk, arriving 5 February 1945.

Departing Casco Bay 17 March, Hayter and three other escorts proceeded into the north Atlantic for anti-submarine sweeps southeast of newfoundland. The ships made a depth charge attack 18 March, but the contact was classified non-submarine. The group returned to Argentia, Newfoundland, from their second sweep on 14 April. Five days later, the group got underway for an anti-submarine barrier patrol, cruising between escort carriers Bogue and Core. On 23 April, a Grumman TBF-1 "Avenger" torpedo bomber from Bogue, piloted by Lt. William W. South, made contact with a U-boat attempting to close the aircraft carrier. He dropped depth charges, driving the U-boat underwater but the escorts could not pick up the contact.

The next morning, just after Frederick C. Davis (DE-136) reported contact on her starboard bow, a T5 homing torpedo struck that escort on the port side amidships, breaking the warship in half. As Hayter maeuvered to attack, Davis was struck by As the stricken ship settled and sank Hayter began rescue operations, and despite rough seas, sharks, and the threat of further attacks, managed to save 65 survivors and recover 12 of the 126 dead. Three of the survivors were revived by artificial respiration given by members of Hayter's crew.

In the meantime, eight other escorts closed the scene and hammered the area with active sonar, hedgehogs and depth charges. After a long, ten hour hunt, luck ran out for U-546 and a hedgehog strike from Flaherty (*) blew the U-boat to the surface. Shattered with gunfire, the U-boat quickly sank, leaving 33 survivors to be pulled out of the water.

Hayter arrived Argentia 6 May and sailed two days later for Philadelphia Navy Yard via Boston. She arrived 22 May and began her conversion to high speed transport, her designation becoming APD-80 on 1 June 1945.

Emerging as a high speed transport, Hayter departed Philadelphia 13 August 1945 for her refresher training off Guantanamo Bay. She subsequently operated out of Norfolk and Newport in training operations until 30 October, when she departed Norfolk for Jacksonville, Fla. At Jacksonville, Hayter was placed in the Reserve Fleet at Green Cove Springs, decommissioned 19 March 1946, and was later moved to the Texas group, where she remained until struck 1 December 1966.


Awards, Citations and Campaign Ribbons:
Precedence of awards is from top to bottom

American Campaign Medal

Europe-Africa-Middle East Campaign Medal

World War II Victory Medal


Fate: To South Korea 23 July 1967, renamed ROKS Chun Nam (PG-86)
stricken and scrapped in 1986.

Sources:
http://www.history.navy.mil/danfs/h4/hayter.htm
http://www.navsource.org/archives/06/212.htm
Joe Bergen USS Hayter web site

Spinning Hands

My days, as with everyone are tracked by the passage of time. Years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes & seconds. But that's not how I comprehend my existence. Yes, I am trapped within time just as everyone else, bound by its laws and at least aware of its actuality, but I cannot grasp the passage of time as units of measure. I mark my 'time' on this earth with experiences. Like landmarks as indicators of where I've been, where I'm at, & where I'm going, my experiences are indicators of my lifetime.

That is why I can't tell if I have done something 2 days ago as opposed to 2 weeks ago or 2 months to 2 years ago. It is the events that 'count' my time.

Release

I see the world

Feel the chill

Which way to go

Windowsill

I see the words

on a rocking horse of time

I see the birds in the rain...

oh.....

oh.....

oh.....

oh.....

Oh dear dad

can you see me now?

I am myself

like you somehow

I'll ride the wave

where it takes me..........

I'll hold the pain...

Release me.........

Oh.....

oh.....

oh.....

oh.....

Oh dear Dad

can you see me now?

I am myself

like you somehow

I'll wait up in the dark

for you to speak to me.......

I'll open up......

Release me!

Release me!

Release me!

Release me!

Oh......

oh......

oh......

oh......

oh.....


"Release" by Pearl Jam

Fighting with GOD

"You do not truly know someone until you fight them." Seraph (a character from the "Matrix: Reloaded)

I think about how I 'see' GOD now as opposed to how I 'saw' Him 'back in the day'. And although I continue to struggle with my old views of Him fairly often, I am thankful for the GOD I have come to know. The difference is quite astounding to me. He always seemed so far removed from me, I never thought to talk to Him.

He is so much more than I can comprehend, yet with each passing year my understanding of Him continues to grow and I find that I really like this GOD of the universe. 'He loves me, this I know', but in His love....in His omniscience, He 'messes' with me; He spins my world about, He does the 'unexpected', He frustrates my plans, He makes life difficult....but it all seems to give me a better understanding of 'who' He truly is and to bring me ever closer to this 'dangerous, yet good' being. I think I have an insight now to Jacob, only I guess I must wait on my new name.

"What do you want?"

It's a question I never used to allow myself to contemplate. Now, the voice that asks that question is becoming ever more loud and persistent. Like the tide coming in, it comes and goes, and comes again returning with more force and power than before. And deep down I welcome it, but there is a part of me that resists. But that side of me, 'my mind', has been in control for so many years that it seems to be growing weary from the weight of resisting what I believe is GOD. He speaks through the other part of me, what I call 'my soul'. It is yearning for something more, and it is gaining courage, yet I still doubt it and am scared as hell. And because of that my mind has not listened to it, I would never looked its way. So, the comfort of 'the familiar' has continued to pull at me with its seductive call. It was known, manageable. It didn't scare me because I knew I could deal with it.

But I know there is something more.....something more not just 'for' me, but .....I don't know....but there has to be 'more'. But what is it? How do I fit in?

The story of my life; is it a 'good' one? What am I writing on its pages? Do I matter? Do I 'measure up'? Do I have 'what it takes' to be who I can be?

I want to matter. I want to make a difference. To prove that GOD wasn't wrong in allowing me to take up space on this earth. Wouldn't that be something? To make an impact on other people's lives, not just my friends and family. And not just a difference, but a positive influence. And not I'm not talking about being famous either, although I must admit I have a hard time keeping my motivations pure.

What happens tomorrow? I'll wake up, probably go to church, smile at people, talk to a few, leave, do some chores around the house and/or ride my bike, etc. Nothing wrong with any of that, but that is what I usually do. I want more, to do more, not in quantity but in quality, I want to be more.

But what does that look like? How does that come about? What do I need to do? Why am I even thinking this? There is so much more than I want to write....to ask. But for now....

There is more out there. I will strive to understand; to change, to be the man I can be. The one GOD wants me to be. But it is a process. And it won't happen overnight. But it can start.

Self Addiction

Isn't that what we all suffer from? Even if we don't know or acknowledge it. Everything we do is directed and/or motivated by our own 'wants'.

Dancing (with GOD)

Excerpt from “Through Painted Deserts: Light, God, and Beauty on the Open Road” by Donald Miller

“I was raised to believe that the quality of a man's life would greatly increase, not with the gain of status or success, not by his heart's knowing romance or by prosperity in industry or acadamia, but by his nearness to God. It confuses me that Christian living is not simpler. The gospel, the very good news, is simple, but this is the gate, the trail head. Ironing out faithless creases is toilsome labor. God bestows three blessings on man: to feed him like birds, dress him like flowers, and befriend him as a confidant. Too many take the first two and neglect the last. Sooner or later you figure out life is constructed specifically and brilliantly to squeeze a man into association with the Owner of heaven. It is a struggle, with labor pains and thorny landscape, bloody hands and a sweaty brow, head in hands, moments of severe loneliness and questioning, moments of ache and desire. All this leads to God, I think. Perhaps this is what is on the other side of the commercials, on the other side of the curtain behind which the Wizard of Oz pulls his levers. Matter and thought are a canvas on which God paints, a painting with tragedy and delivery, with sin and redemption. Life is a dance toward God, I begin to think. And the dance is not as graceful as we might want. While we glide and swing our practiced sway, God crowds our feet, bumps our toes, and scuffs our shoes. So we learn to dance with the One who made us. And it is a difficult dance to learn, because its steps are foreign.”


I believe I have a kindred spirit with Donald Miller

Diogene's Lamp

In my arrogant if not foolish quest to be able to withstand Diogene's lamp, I find myself to be Paul Simon's "Boxer" at the base of the hill behind Sisyphus's bolder......once again.

"The Boxer" written by Paul Simon

I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocket full of mumbles such are promises
All lies and jests
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest

When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station running scared

Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know

Lie la lie ...

Asking only workman's wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers,
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there

Lie la lie ...

Then I'm laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone
Going home
Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me
Bleeding me, going home

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev'ry glove that layed him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains

Lie la lie ...

To Whom Else Would I Go?

^{Luke 15:17-21
17} “When he finally came to his senses, he said to himself, ‘At home even the hired servants have food enough to spare, and here I am dying of hunger!
¹⁸ I will go home to my father and say, “Father, I have sinned against both heaven and you,
¹⁹ and I am no longer worthy of being called your son. Please take me on as a hired servant.”’

²⁰ “So he returned home to his father. And while he was still a long way off, his father saw him coming. Filled with love and compassion, he ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him.

²¹ His son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against both heaven and you, and I am no longer worthy of being called your son.’

How many times will I have I came to my senses & still wandered away again? Or have I ever really been 'enlightened' at all? When will I come to my senses 'once & for all'? Is that possible? There seems to be such a finality to the prodigal son story. One pivotal turning point. No 'retuning to the old ways'. Not perfect. Just past that particular trial, issue, sin....whatever. Is that possible?

Father,

Do You see me? I'm a long way off. I've been out here so many times, how could You take me back? Do You see me? Do You really love me? Why can't I accept that? That question alone would have people thinking I don't believe in You, that I'm lost, going to Hell. Yet, You know me. Your presence has been so real & overwhelming to me at times that I could only fall to my knees in awe & gratefulness. But here I am. Cold. Alone. Confused. Desperate.

Why is it that I can't believe in Love? Or is it as Bono sings:

"It's not if I believe in love
But if love believes in me
Oh, believe in me..."

He seems to understand it but still pleading to believe it as well.

"O to grace how great a debtor

daily I'm constrained to be!

Let thy goodness, like a fetter,

bind my wandering heart to thee.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,

prone to leave the God I love;

here's my heart, O take and seal it,

seal it for thy courts above...."

Yes, I am pleading for GOD to save me from myself. Today, as much or maybe more than ever.

....but alas, unlike many times before, the words of that song bring me little comfort today. I guess I'm too much into 'this feeling'. I have a friend that is dying....he might have already passed away. Cancer. And though I'm sad about that, I'm angry & frustrated w/myself about so many other things too. So many thoughts & feelings swirling in & around me. I am 'addicted to self' as Donald Miller puts it. Impending loss of a friend, loss of a close friendship, expectations of my small group, family health & relationship issues, uncertainty & lack of passion with my job, my own lack of faith, my own fallibility.....me,me,me. I get so sick of me. But what do I do? I can't deny what I feel. I feel like I'm in a room on a bucking bronco in the midst of a hurricane and the walls are closing in. Where does this come from? I know I go to extremes, last weekend I was on top of the world, the week before; the doldrums, now back again. I know I have embraced this trait about myself....but today....today it is too much. But why? I'm not dealing w/isolation like some are....but then again maybe I am, albeit in a different way. A subtle prison of my own choosing, not so obvious, yet the walls have been built one imperceptible brick at a time until...

....until I find myself paralyzed and surrounded by those bricks of doubt held together by the mortar of fear.

Again I ramble.... No thought finished before another takes hold....

The human condition.....miserable worm or a carefree clown. I love being me (He is 'growing' me)....I hate being me (I failed again!). Back & forth, back & forth, etc. C.S. Lewis said GOD was 'tearing down walls instead of hanging pictures' in his soul. I find that to be true with me too, but sometimes my walls seem to be made of reinforced steel & titanium encircling my stony, yet fleshy heart. It has to have some flesh because it wouldn't hurt this bad if it wasn't. Maybe there is a small glimmer of hope. Yet the walls are defiant, resistant to what......to Who I really need.

But what of the cost? Am I willing to consider the cost? Yes, He died for me, but I must carry my own cross to truly follow Him.

^{Luke 14:26-28a}

²⁶ “If you want to be my disciple, you must hate everyone else by comparison—your father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even your own life. Otherwise, you cannot be my disciple.
²⁷ And if you do not carry your own cross and follow me, you cannot be my disciple.
²⁸ But don’t begin until you count the cost."

Will I? What other choice do really have now?

^{John 6:67-69}

⁶⁷ Then Jesus turned to the Twelve and asked, “Are you also going to leave?”

⁶⁸ Simon Peter replied, “Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words that give eternal life.

⁶⁹ We believe, and we know you are the Holy One of God.”

A Realization

The air had that medicine stale scent that hospitals permeate. The small room was bland but functional. The soft beeps and rhythmic noises of the machines reverberated around us resonating within our souls that it would not be much longer.
My family gathered around the bed where my father lay. He knew he would be leaving us soon. So, in his giving way with our mother by his side, he gave us all encouraging words that we could take with us after he passed. I can't remember exactly what he said to my brother, his wife or my sister, but I do remember him telling them to accept any opportunity to advance in their jobs and such.
But then he looked at me. And he said "I don't need to tell you anything." Being the dutiful son I accepted his words, not fully comprehending what he meant. At the time I felt honored that he felt like I was going to be okay & that he didn't need to leave me with any nugget of wisdom or bit of encouragement.
Later, I felt shortchanged, like he assumed I knew more than I did when I didn't have a clue. About life, being a man, countless other answers to questions he evidently thought I knew & understood.
Alone I screamed out:

"Why didn't you tell me?!!!"

"Why didn't you warn me about this?!!!!"

"Why couldn't you have prepared me for what was to come?"

I spent most of my life 'faking it', appearing as if I knew what was going on, that I was 'cool' & had the answers. Just keep the ambiguity flowing, a knowing smile, evasive answers to questions - asked & unasked; in short; lies.
I was lying to others, to myself.....to GOD. Too prideful...too scared to ask any of the questions that churned deep within my soul. The truth is, I rarely even asked the surface level, mundane questions, so the deep important ones were never considered.
So I pushed everything down....down.....down so that only a numb shell of a man was left, going through the motions of everyday life. Never letting known the turmoil that followed me so close behind, biding its time until I would have to face the enormity of it all....the bitter truth & all the baggage that went with it:

Did I have what it took?

Would I live up to the expectations?

Did I 'measure up'?

I didn't know.

I just didn't know.

Now, it seems to me that maybe he was trying to answer my unasked questions. Could he have possibly gave me his reply through what he didn't say? That he saw something in me that I could not. Something I still question, as I believe most men do if they were to be honest.

That I did have what it took.

I could live up to expectations.

I 'measured' up.

So it has taken me over 13 years to wonder if he was trying in his own humble way, to bestow upon me the very thing I thought I was lacking.

That he knew me.

That he was proud of me.

And that he respected me.

If that is true, then that is comforting and reassuring. Validating.