I've just moved into my dorm and finished a long day of SMC training and am finally ready for bed. God has given me much to think about tonight and my heart is heavy with the weight of it. For the second time in two days I have been reminded of the pain of people around me, and my heart and flesh cry out for them. But also for the second time in two days I have been given the verse Revelation 21:4 to sustain me. The first time was last night during a mens prayer meeting that I have been going to the past few weeks, in which we have just been praying, and asking God, what he would have us to do this year on the SPU campus. And just moments ago i was reminded again after listening to our CSMC's life stories. I don't have allot to say about it but God has put it on my heart and I don't want to forget it. Nor do I want to forget his faithfulness in these experiences.
"I shall wipe every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away." May our God make it so.
This is my prayer for those I know that are hurting and for the world.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
There's a Man on the Mt.
Back chill'n in Atlanta for a while. Been running with the old team and reading some good material. Just finished Into the Wild and a book about Jesse Owens. Nice to be back, especially cause of Judy's cook'n. m m good! wrote this a while back as song lyrics.
There's a man on the mt. who's calling for justice.
There's the call of the wild that howls,
for each ragged breath,
of which you posses,
to belay you away from your death.
So call on the man on the mt.
Reach for the voice on the wind.
And abseil your heart,
to get back to the start,
where the world claimed I have no sin.
There's a man on the mt. who's calling for justice.
There's the call of the wild that howls,
for each ragged breath,
of which you posses,
to belay you away from your death.
So call on the man on the mt.
Reach for the voice on the wind.
And abseil your heart,
to get back to the start,
where the world claimed I have no sin.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Like my fist Spanking
"Like my first spanking, it is one of the few incidents in my life that I can remember clearly. In the life of everyone there is a limited number of unhappy experiences which are not written upon the memory, but stamped there with a die; and in long years after, they can be called up in detail, and every emotion that was stirred by them can be lived through anew; these are the tragedies o life." (The Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man)
Yesterday I was reminded of one of those tragedies and I remembered the wonderful things that led up to it. I recall the beach, washed in golden sunlight, and waves as big as any I have seen on the east coast. I remember feeling the need to run, and taking off for several very sweaty miles. I can feel the blisters that developed under my toes from pushing off on the abrasive sand, and the thick sliminess of my hair brought on by the combo of saltwater and sweat. We laid out for hours, my friends and I, just enjoying the sun soaked atmosphere with conversation and occasional dips in the rolling breakers. I remember Rafael and I conversing in our own secret code that we were to excited about to actually keep secret. Images of Changing in the bathroom and going to Carabas for dinner, running to the car to get out of the random rain storm that passed over quickly, making fun of the boozed out bums lounging on the lawn behind the beach, and being thrown into the air right as waves went over to avoid mouthfuls of saltwater, all flash through my mind accompanied by the sound of joyous laughter.
Life for me has always been sweet. God is continually leading me to milk and honey, and I drink unceasingly from the well of his grace. Even in the bad times he has impressed my soul with rivers of peace and mountains of joy.
Yesterday I was reminded of one of those tragedies and I remembered the wonderful things that led up to it. I recall the beach, washed in golden sunlight, and waves as big as any I have seen on the east coast. I remember feeling the need to run, and taking off for several very sweaty miles. I can feel the blisters that developed under my toes from pushing off on the abrasive sand, and the thick sliminess of my hair brought on by the combo of saltwater and sweat. We laid out for hours, my friends and I, just enjoying the sun soaked atmosphere with conversation and occasional dips in the rolling breakers. I remember Rafael and I conversing in our own secret code that we were to excited about to actually keep secret. Images of Changing in the bathroom and going to Carabas for dinner, running to the car to get out of the random rain storm that passed over quickly, making fun of the boozed out bums lounging on the lawn behind the beach, and being thrown into the air right as waves went over to avoid mouthfuls of saltwater, all flash through my mind accompanied by the sound of joyous laughter.
Life for me has always been sweet. God is continually leading me to milk and honey, and I drink unceasingly from the well of his grace. Even in the bad times he has impressed my soul with rivers of peace and mountains of joy.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Journal entry April 30, 2010
When it rains it pours. This week it poured. I got sick on sunday night, missed flag detail on monday morning (meaning death by ROTC), I ended being to sick to go to class until friday, but still had to take two midterms, my phone broke, and then in the turmoil of all that I got a call on my room phone (currently my only connection to the outside world) that my grandfather had passed away and I wouldn't be able to attend the funeral..... What can a man do? I turn to my Savior but have found no comfort. Loneliness crowds my heart as I try to find a God I can actually touch. I miss my friends and my familiar lifestyle, but I tell myself over and over I am right where God wants me. I know it's the truth, but the truth hurts.
Madam Life, I bid you take your claws off of my neck and sink them into something worth your time.
Madam Life, I bid you take your claws off of my neck and sink them into something worth your time.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Life in Reversal
He sits quietly,
hoping for hope,
reaching for weakness,
but landing in puddles of pride.
He sees his failures as a poignant reminder;
a lesson learned he plays over and over in his mind
as a fable.
Funny thing with fables,
they contain the word able,
steeped with possibility of renewal
and lasrever.
tub s'taht eht ytuaeb fo efil
ti syawla stneserp a eciohc.
hoping for hope,
reaching for weakness,
but landing in puddles of pride.
He sees his failures as a poignant reminder;
a lesson learned he plays over and over in his mind
as a fable.
Funny thing with fables,
they contain the word able,
steeped with possibility of renewal
and lasrever.
tub s'taht eht ytuaeb fo efil
ti syawla stneserp a eciohc.
Monday, February 15, 2010
The crocodile
I would give anything to borrow captain Hook's hammer,
to escape the crocodile.
How cruel the clock that ticks on a silver chain.
How cold the metal casing.
With each time my hand travels to my pocket,
a new burn,
as fingers brush gleaming steel.
to escape the crocodile.
How cruel the clock that ticks on a silver chain.
How cold the metal casing.
With each time my hand travels to my pocket,
a new burn,
as fingers brush gleaming steel.
Colored Band
This colored band,
this piece of cloth that never leaves,
has lost it's youthful charm.
The gash it rubbed in my leg
only an ironic reminder.
This colored band,
this piece of cloth I can't take off,
clings to my leg like a shackle,
leaving a trail of blood running to my sock.
An ironic reminder of a rose turned thorn.
this piece of cloth that never leaves,
has lost it's youthful charm.
The gash it rubbed in my leg
only an ironic reminder.
This colored band,
this piece of cloth I can't take off,
clings to my leg like a shackle,
leaving a trail of blood running to my sock.
An ironic reminder of a rose turned thorn.
Friday, January 22, 2010
The Mind
Just a reflection on my own reflections.
A whirlwind
with a sound like a freight train.
A spinning cerebral cortex.
A mass of millions of neurons firing
in a whirlwind.
A swell
with a sound like a crashing wave
a soaring tidal surge.
A mammoth beast of water washing over my mind
in a swell.
They call it life.
It’s been referred to as knowledge,
as wisdom.
But it feels like a swell,
and it sounds like a whirlwind.
A whirlwind
with a sound like a freight train.
A spinning cerebral cortex.
A mass of millions of neurons firing
in a whirlwind.
A swell
with a sound like a crashing wave
a soaring tidal surge.
A mammoth beast of water washing over my mind
in a swell.
They call it life.
It’s been referred to as knowledge,
as wisdom.
But it feels like a swell,
and it sounds like a whirlwind.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
God's honest truth
School is ridiculously busy. I hardly have time to process what all I am learning. I'm so busy I don't have time digest the past, but today I had a little break and was able to hear the silence again. When that happened, I realized how much I have to think about. I realized that I have been shouting down the pain of life with a crazy schedule and a crowded mind. There is so much pain in this world and I can't ignore it by only focusing on my own life. I can't even ignore the pain in my own life by focusing on my on life. Ha! How ironic is that! I need more time to listen, to masticate, and digest what is happening around me. I need my Savior, and that's God's honest truth.
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