To you:
I need you to know-
I'm praying for you
I want to make it go away
I didn't mean to use the past tense in my letter
I want to drive home, wrap you in my arms, and tell you it will be ok
You are strong and amazing. You are one of the best men I've ever known. I don't know what is going to happen, but I am sure that you will handle it with a manner of grace and maturity that will surpass those around you. I believe in you.
Sunday, May 27
Thursday, May 24
Calm in the Waves
There was a girl that lived next to the sea. She would watch the world float by her little life, considering the occasional waves that were able to change her perception of time. She would sit, watching the passing boats. With a raised hand, she steadied the horizon that lay before her. ‘All that I look past and all that I can see can be steadied by the width of my hand’. The little girl grew up to be a woman. As a woman she no longer lived by the sea, her horizon was filled with skyscrapers and speeding cars. She would gaze out the window, steady her hand and make the city still. She wanted to believe that there could be no effect that was bigger than the cause. With small decisions and smaller steps there could never be a leap.
She loved a man once. His ways were cold and calculating. She accepted his conclusions to a fault. Her love for him was like a breeze. She felt the effects on her body, the cold caress on her cheek, but it had no beginning and no end. Her love for him had always been but it was a passing breeze. It had a way that moved through her in search of its final destination. She was not the end to his means.
‘Each day is a blessing’. And she raised her hand again. Steady and calm but there was no ocean to be seen. She closed her eyes to a river that crashed through her. The water pulled her to a final destination and he became a rock, strong and solid but simply a minor block to her ultimate end. She would gaze at him and see something that was nothing. ‘You are almost enough’.
There was a woman that moved to the sea. She would gaze at the world that no longer floated by her. She had become an actor in her own play, a master of the river inside. Through the rushing and the failing, she felt no need to steady her hand. ‘There is calm in the waves’.
There was a girl that lived next to the sea. She would watch the world float by her little life, considering the occasional waves that were able to change her perception of time. She would sit, watching the passing boats. With a raised hand, she steadied the horizon that lay before her. ‘All that I look past and all that I can see can be steadied by the width of my hand’. The little girl grew up to be a woman. As a woman she no longer lived by the sea, her horizon was filled with skyscrapers and speeding cars. She would gaze out the window, steady her hand and make the city still. She wanted to believe that there could be no effect that was bigger than the cause. With small decisions and smaller steps there could never be a leap.
She loved a man once. His ways were cold and calculating. She accepted his conclusions to a fault. Her love for him was like a breeze. She felt the effects on her body, the cold caress on her cheek, but it had no beginning and no end. Her love for him had always been but it was a passing breeze. It had a way that moved through her in search of its final destination. She was not the end to his means.
‘Each day is a blessing’. And she raised her hand again. Steady and calm but there was no ocean to be seen. She closed her eyes to a river that crashed through her. The water pulled her to a final destination and he became a rock, strong and solid but simply a minor block to her ultimate end. She would gaze at him and see something that was nothing. ‘You are almost enough’.
There was a woman that moved to the sea. She would gaze at the world that no longer floated by her. She had become an actor in her own play, a master of the river inside. Through the rushing and the failing, she felt no need to steady her hand. ‘There is calm in the waves’.
Sunday, May 6
Until Lately...
Vixi Puellis Nuper Idoneus
They flee from me that sometime did me seek,
With naked foot stalking within my chamber:
Once have I seen them gentle, tame, and meek,
That now are wild, and do not once remember
That sometime they have put themselves in danger
To take bread at my hand; and now they range,
Busily seeking in continual change.
Thanked be fortune, it hath been otherwise
Twenty times better; but once especial--
In thin array: after a pleasant guise,
When her loose gown did from her shoulders fall,
And she me caught in her arms long and small,
And therewithal so sweetly did me kiss,
And softly said, 'Dear heart, how like you this?'
It was no dream; for I lay broad awaking:
But all is turn'd now, through my gentleness,
Into a bitter fashion of forsaking;
And I have leave to go of her goodness;
And she also to use new-fangleness.
But since that I unkindly so am served,
'How like you this?' — what hath she now deserved?
--Thomas Wyatt
Vixi Puellis Nuper Idoneus
They flee from me that sometime did me seek,
With naked foot stalking within my chamber:
Once have I seen them gentle, tame, and meek,
That now are wild, and do not once remember
That sometime they have put themselves in danger
To take bread at my hand; and now they range,
Busily seeking in continual change.
Thanked be fortune, it hath been otherwise
Twenty times better; but once especial--
In thin array: after a pleasant guise,
When her loose gown did from her shoulders fall,
And she me caught in her arms long and small,
And therewithal so sweetly did me kiss,
And softly said, 'Dear heart, how like you this?'
It was no dream; for I lay broad awaking:
But all is turn'd now, through my gentleness,
Into a bitter fashion of forsaking;
And I have leave to go of her goodness;
And she also to use new-fangleness.
But since that I unkindly so am served,
'How like you this?' — what hath she now deserved?
--Thomas Wyatt
Thursday, May 3
A Man who Stands for Himself
I don’t believe in labels, people rarely adhere to them.
I spoke recently to an old friend. I told him quietly, firmly that I was no longer a Christian and that I could not identify myself with this label any longer. He seemed perplexed by my words. His head tilted to the side as he said, “You were, but now you’re not?” I knew that this would be a difficult conversation to navigate. The label of Christianity is a salve for many. The word that slides off men’s tongue is familiar and tells others that he can be trusted, that he is part of their select society. I refuse to offer comfort with this term. It might seem as though I am disgusted with Christianity, but I am not. I don’t believe in basing one’s identity on labels. Men who have told me they live by other great moral standards have still failed. They say they do not lie and then spout venom with their tongue. They say they do not break promises and then leave the ones who love them standing alone. I do not stand for these men either. I can not stand for any man who wishes to identify himself with a power greater than himself because if so chooses this path then he will surely fail. Why not be honest for the sake of yourself? Not because it is moral and right, but because you are the master of your own dignity. I wish for a man who can not only stand but testify that he stands for himself alone. He stands for the purpose that is born within him, and if he lies or breaks his promises it is because he is a flawed man- not because there is a flawed moral code.
Religion covers a multitude of sins; it acts as an insurance policy for those who are unable to stand on their own.
I don’t believe in labels, people rarely adhere to them.
I spoke recently to an old friend. I told him quietly, firmly that I was no longer a Christian and that I could not identify myself with this label any longer. He seemed perplexed by my words. His head tilted to the side as he said, “You were, but now you’re not?” I knew that this would be a difficult conversation to navigate. The label of Christianity is a salve for many. The word that slides off men’s tongue is familiar and tells others that he can be trusted, that he is part of their select society. I refuse to offer comfort with this term. It might seem as though I am disgusted with Christianity, but I am not. I don’t believe in basing one’s identity on labels. Men who have told me they live by other great moral standards have still failed. They say they do not lie and then spout venom with their tongue. They say they do not break promises and then leave the ones who love them standing alone. I do not stand for these men either. I can not stand for any man who wishes to identify himself with a power greater than himself because if so chooses this path then he will surely fail. Why not be honest for the sake of yourself? Not because it is moral and right, but because you are the master of your own dignity. I wish for a man who can not only stand but testify that he stands for himself alone. He stands for the purpose that is born within him, and if he lies or breaks his promises it is because he is a flawed man- not because there is a flawed moral code.
Religion covers a multitude of sins; it acts as an insurance policy for those who are unable to stand on their own.
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