You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘Life’ category.
i’m learning that 50% of life is if. 50%. why on earth would if be in life if it wasnt to remind us that we’re not in control. that there are bigger things at work here than we sometimes realize. that this life was meant to be lived with a view not just of today, but of the coming horizon. of the coming sunrise. of the hope and dreams of a future.
so what if if comprises the middle of this life. i’m going to live it anyway. i’m going to hope, and dream. i’m going to smile and dance. i’m going to laugh and love and learn.
hard times will come. a lot of times, that is what the if is comprised of. let them come.
i’m going to chose to be thankful. for an amazing Saviour, who’s there even when i doubt Him. and for the little things, like a boss who’s wonderful, or the sunrise today. or that its friday.
i dont typically post about the day to day goings on of life. but i felt that, at least for this one situation, i needed to. you see, i’ve been dealing with a situation at work thats not um…. ‘fun’. to put it mildly.
without going into details, because in the long run, they dont really matter… lets just say frustration was growing. and while i was stressing over it, over the if, at home no less, i realized something. i realized that i’ve got a great boss. a great boss who puts up with a heck of a lot more than i do. i’m thankful for my boss and for the job i have.
and beyond that, i’m breathing. right now. i’m living and alive. so heck yes, i’m going to live life.
bring on the if.
we sometimes write things in the heat of what we’re feeling, in the passion of the moment. in most cases, it’s a good thing. we need those outlets.
this was something written a number of months ago
there is a reason i spent the last hour searching through the archives of postsecret.com. it’s because i know that what im going through, what i’m feeling… it’s not unique.
we all deal with it. wondering. questioning. am i good enough? will i ever be good enough?
i think the question that scares me the most, is ‘did i miss it’? what ‘could’ have happened? did i miss the signs? or, did i hear correctly… and am i just dealing with a heart that never truly let go? that was still so wrapped around finding greatness, that when it was time to let it go, i didnt want to?
i think there are times when we all need to be reminded that we’re not alone in what we feel. that were not alone in what we’re going through. sometimes, all it takes to find the honesty in the situation we’re in, is to be honest ourselves. sometimes we just need to give ourselves permission to feel.
to simply feel.
and to say whatever it is that’s heavy on our hearts.
maybe its that our heart hurts. that there is an ache inside that wont easily go away. an ache that comes from a life lived long ago. and hopes that were birthed what seems like a lifetime ago.
my heart aches. for you. and for what could have been. i am afraid. of what this means. of the fact that i could have missed it. and of knowing how much this hurts. you’re married. i wasn’t there. and it wasn’t me. and i’ve got to be ok with that.
maybe im the only one who’s felt this way. who’s found themselves looking back, instead of looking forward. wondering about what could have been, instead of hoping for what is to come. worrying that i missed it, instead of trusting the Author of this story. of my story.
i don’t know if i’ve mentioned it on my blog or not, but i love antiques. i try to hit at least one antique shop every two weeks or so. there is something so beautiful about finding something with a story. something that’s not ‘new’. the shininess is gone. the glitz and glamour of its heyday is well passed. but that simply means that the stories it can tell… are now worth far more than a price tag could ever communicate.
i was wandering through one of my new favorite antique malls today. and i found myself talking to one of the nicest guys i’d ever met. you know the type, the type who just oozes happiness. joy from a source beyond himself.
we talked antiques, what he collects, what i collect… he made me smile. at the end of my trip, as i walked out to the parking lot and stopped to look at the first 2009 Dodge Challenger i’ve seen, he pulled up in his truck. we both looked, and drooled… he made some comment about it looking so much like the challengers did in his time. he laughed, i laughed, and we went our separate ways.
he was, at the very least, old enough to be considered an antique. and just from the few moments i was able to spend with him, i knew i’d like him. i knew he had more stories than i’d ever have time. and i knew he had lived, and was living, a full life. he was full of joy. and he greeted everything with a smile.
why does all this matter? because. because he couldn’t stand up to shake my hand. he’s an amputee, missing his right leg from well above the knee. he’s lived god only knows how many years attached to a chair with wheels. unable to stand or walk. and yet, he has joy. he lives this life to the fullest.
he’s the type of man, that in 40 years, i want to be. full of life. of stories. of joy. of hope.
so maybe i looked back. but that doesn’t mean i’m moving backwards. and although what i wrote months ago is a portion of who i was, its not who i am. i know that being here, in texas, was the right decision. and i know that the ones im faced with now, are the next steps in the life i’ve been called to live.
i think the lesson i’m learning through all of this, is how important it is to hold on, and how it is just as important to let go. i’m good at the holding on part. not so good at the letting go part. and i think…. i think its time to start letting go.
The Classic Crime – Closer Than We Think
i still hold the belief
that we are free
that we don’t need the rules to see
that despite what we’ve done
we’re not alone
we’re closer than we think to home
i hope you find what you’re looking for. and i hope that someday, it’s me.
i’m not really sure why that’s the thought that’s running through my head tonight. aside from the fact that in a way, it encompasses my heart. it’s where i hope i’m at.
preparation. training. the beginning.
of what? i’m not sure. but i just know that this isn’t all. that this isn’t what it is, ‘just because’. that there is more to the chaos, a theme to the stories that are being written. a current of hope beneath the crashing of the waves.
because someday, i want to be that answer. i want to be that person that you’re chasing. i want to be that person that you’re looking for. and someday, i want you to be the person i chase. the person i’m looking for. that person that will….
life will never be predictable. it will never fit into nice little molds, or conform itself to the way we want it to be. but sometimes, we’re lucky enough to capture a glimpse of why we’re here. of why this is happening. and we realize that what we are going through is working in us something so much greater. something that will make this all worth while.
we realize that this cacophony of noise has a Conductor, and as we tune our ear and turn our hearts, the nosie fades and we begin to hear the sweet notes of a symphony. we see catch glimpses of the Conductor, directing, changing and calling out different sections; woodwinds, brass and strings. we slowly realize that our part in this symphony is much smaller than we first thought, and at the same time, so much more amazing than we ever dreamed. we realize that even when we feel the most alone, we’re not. and even when our heart breaks, that ours isn’t the only one. and that even when life is its most cruel, and the tears flow freely, that there is still melody in the pain. that there is healing, right where we’re at. and that it’s at the darkest parts of our lives that we come to realize that this Conductor knows exactly what He’s doing… and if we only hope…
we will see the dawn.
the road we’re called to walk is very rarely paved. almost without fail, we’re caught offguard by how rough it can be. we’re thrown a curveball. we find out that the husband of a coworker just died… a coworker who was your age. who has two little ones. or a conversation with a family member doesnt go well, and your eyes are opened to how bad things really are.
its in those moments we look even harder for a purpose. for a reason for this madness. for some semblance of hope amidst the chaos. some pattern that speaks of a plan, of a purpose. that speaks to the truth that this isnt all random. and that we’re not alone.
that im not alone.
and thats really where i find myself tonight. both knowing, and hoping, that i wont be alone.
i’m waiting. waiting for whats next. hoping, that ive done what i needed to do. that ive taken the steps to become the man im supposed to be. hoping that ive found this healing, and that it is real. that it sticks, that i continue to heal. hoping that i wont give up. and that the changes im seeing, are forever changes.
because in all honesty, that’s the life i want to live. a forever life. a life that knows its not any more important than it actually is. a life that knows its here to serve, to love, and to find meaning in all of this.
a life that proclaims, and points, to purpose. to hope. a life that finds its purpose in the Author of my story…. and i honestly truly hope that this story finds itself intertwined with another.
but throughout this week ive been reminded that this hope, this desire for another, cannot ever be my goal. because whomever she is, she will not complete me. and i will never be completeness to her.
unless i find my entirety, my being, my self worth and unconditional love at the foot of the cross of the Author of my story, i will never be complete. and i will never be the man i need to be. my story will never be filled with the passion, the compassion, the joy and fire and vivacity i so yearn to see, unless i continually allow the author to have his way. i will never experience the love i so long to give, unless i find it first in Him. the canvas of my life will never be filled with the colors in my heart, i do not have the ability to bring them out. not in and of myself. but He does. the Author does. and it is there i will find life. i will find love. and i will find hope.
i still hold the belief
that we are free
that we don’t need the rules to see
that despite what we’ve done
we’re not alone
we’re closer than we think to home
It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.
-President Theodore Roosevelt
may this be my creed.
my eyes still search for a purpose. they still hunger for more. they still do not rest without first looking up expectantly. i cannot go to sleep each night without first finding the moon and straining against the artificial, to see the stars…. to find true light.
i believe that yearning is only a mirrored reflection of what is truly going on inside of me. inside of you. inside of us all.
the search for beauty.
its all around us. promised in movies, magazines and tv. its spewed like gospel from the perfect mouths of millionaire spokes models. its preached from every marketplace- beauty, completeness, the hole-filling substance that will make you feel complete, whole.
products, marketing, consumerism, all predicated on the ingrained belief that you are not good enough. that i am not good enough. that we, no one, is good enough. and we never will be. not without this new thing, or that new product, or those ten new techniques. not without this amazing new ______ or that newly reformulated creme. we’re never good enough. but if you spent enough, bought enough, try hard enough, we will be. or so we’re told.
our lives become full of stuff. cluttered, artificial. we spend our days working hard for a paycheck. and we spend our nights and weekends hunting for that next fix, that next thing to complete us. to fill that aching void. we dance the dance of window shoppers. always looking, hoping, never truly finding satisfaction. never truly finding that one thing that completes us. that fills that hole.
we try, we burn ourselves out attempting to be good enough, to fit in. to have or act or say or wear whatever the right things are. all because deep down, we know we are faulty, broken, failed attempts at humanity searching for something with depth, for some form of truth. something that justifies our existence. that tells us our dreams for more, and our constant disappointment each time we find new ‘stuff’, isnt wrong. something that tells us that there is more. that life is out there, calling. that it aches for us to live it as much as we ache to taste true life, true freedom… to taste – truth.
we’re so afraid to show our true selves that we bury it; underneath our jobs or friends, beneath the veneer of wealth, skill or beauty. we hide behind our desks or our hobbies, our religion and our beliefs.
we do all that, fully knowing but never truly grasping that we are all broken, faulty, damaged beings. that we all remember the taste of hopelessness and the emptiness of knowing that we will never be capable of creating the beauty we so long to see.
we know, we just know we will never find what we’re looking for in the mall. but we keep looking anyway.
and you see this. if you dont yet, you will. go to the mall next friday night, find someplace busy and just watch. watch people. you’ll see the anorexic, the drunkard… you’ll see the girl so wanting to be loved she allows herself to be used. you’ll see the kids who’s parents dont care and the adults who’s parents never cared.
they… we… always fearing, always hoping that one day someone will see us. the real us. see through the gloss and find true beauty. the beauty we all hope exists inside of us. we all hope, but we’ve never been brave enough to risk showing it.
we always hope that someone would recognize the value in us, see that beauty, see beyond our brokenness and offer unmerited, unearned and wholly unconditional love.
for the time being, they do not matter.
Gustav may be a category 5 hurricane by the time it hits our coast. if you don’t do anything else tonight, pray for the southern coast of the US and Cuba. pray for protection, for Almighty providence, for a change in the winds…. for a miracle.
(Delirious – Find Me In The River)
so what comes next? what happens after this? will i continually be content with the safety of the now? or will i strike out on my own? strike out into unknown, uncharted territories? will i move into something i’ve always wanted, but always talked myself out of?
somehow, i’ve convinced myself that everything i was ever shown, all i ever knew, everything my dad ever said – either with his words and actions, or by what was never spoken, and never shown – that it’s all true. that im somehow damaged, and incomplete. that i was never expected to amount to a whole lot. that im destined to walk the same path he did.
i walk around like there is a huge shadow that follows me, weighing me down. the shadow of failures not my own. of questions that never cease to swirl through my mind. i feel like i never had a chance to become me. that, by the time i had an idea of who that was supposed to be, the world changed, and to survive, i needed to change with it. and now im left with the questions, the wondering, trying to figure out what i’m supposed to do. what this calling is supposed to look like. i know – so many questions, and i seem to only run in circles.
im slowly learning that the answers will come. that even in the moments when im stuck on the hillside, or the bottom of a dry river bed… seemingly not moving at all, that those moments were destined too. im learning that my destiny is formed as much in the small insignificant moments, as it is in the huge momentous, mountain-top experiences. im learning that life is found in the little things. in the words of a friend. or the in the smile of a beautiful girl. in the red sunrises, or moonlight nights. in the text from someone who cares, or an old friendship that has reconnected.
life is made of the decisions i make each day.
and if what i want, is to be the type of man that an amazing woman can fall in love with, then i’ve got a long way to go. i need to find a way to walk from underneath my fathers shadow. to know deep down that his choices do not control my destiny. that i’m not him, and never will be.
as much as i wish that life was filled with mountain-top moments, moments of victory and passion… more often then not, life is filled with pain. with more moments in a dry riverbed, then on the lush mountain top.
and if i was honest with you, you’d know that ive been running. from my fears, from this God who wants to be my Father. from the shadow of a destiny that isnt even mine.
i cant run any longer. not if i want to see these dreams, these passions and this hope, come to fruition.
we didnt count on suffering
we didnt count on pain
but if the blessings in the valley
then in the river i will wait
find me in the river
find me there
find me on my knees
with my soul laid bare
even though you’re gone
and i’m cracked and dry
find me in the river
i’m waiting here
for you
so much i could say. so much swirls at my feet. so many questions.
but this is all that matters.
Celtic Bridge – Be Thou My Vision
be thou my vision, oh Lord of my heart
be all else but naught to me, save that thou art
be thou my best thought in the day and the night
both waking and sleeping, thy presence my light
be thou my wisdom, be thou my true word
be thou ever with me, and I with thee Lord
be thou my great Father, and I thy true son
be thou in me dwelling, and I with thee one
be thou my breastplate, my sword for the fight
be thou my whole armor, be thou my true might
be thou my soul’s shelter, be thou my strong tower
O raise thou me heavenward, great Power of my power
riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise
be thou mine inheritance now and always
be thou and thou only the first in my heart
O Sovereign of heaven, my treasure thou art
High King of heaven, thou heaven’s bright sun
O grant me its joys after victory is won
great Heart of my own heart, whatever befall
still be thou my vision, O Ruler of all
i was going to write about romance, about what my heart yearns for. about finding that one special girl who’s hand will fit perfectly in mine. that girl who will completely rock my world, cause me to question everything, and holds the dreams of my future in her eyes.
but ive been derailed.
i was going to write about being 28, and single. about not knowing if i would ever find her. about questioning if ‘waiting’ was worth it.
but i was reminded of the bigger picture. and that there is a wonderous cross… blood stained, splintered, blessed because of Who gave their life on it. and that He gave His life because He loved me.
i’m reminded that i needed it, and that i need it. every day, every moment. that without this wonderous cross, i am nothing. and it’s because of His sacrifice, that i am able to offer love to someone else. it’s his love in my heart, that allows me to love beyond myself. that beckons me to seek out those who hurt, and offer hope.
and that quitely whispers ‘…there is more…’
i dont have the answers, and my heart still yearns to love that…. one. but i know the One who’s wings hold up the sky. and until i find her, i will do all i can to be the man i am supposed to be. to keep the Cross at the center of my life. to love with all i am, and to follow Him. wherever He leads.
Showbread – The Beginning (hover over for a pop-up player)
lyrics
I used to dream that I could fly,
just above the whispered clouds, beneath the somber sky.
I had a dream I was alive,
I dreamt that love would never die. (goodbye)
Dreams were cheap and hope was easy…(so light),
the forgeries of life deceiving…(so bright),
and as I glided to the ground…(so long),
calcified, the concrete weighed me down… (cruel world).
Your wings are holding up the sky,
dear God, I had a dream that I could fly.
Alkaline the burning frost, has blistered deep beneath my bones,
And winter spat its hatred, cold and coiled, black and deep,
as it called me ever further, where evil burns and never sleeps.
I once had prayers that found no words, fragile things I’ve never spoken,
through my lips passed eulogies for all the oaths that I have broken.
And still the ghost of hope was haunting, through the dark to save the living,
and still beneath it all I dreamed that God could be forgiving.
Your wings are holding up the sky,
dear God, I had a dream that I could fly.
When I survey the wondrous cross On which the Prince of glory died, My richest gain I count but loss, And pour contempt on all my pride.
I am the worst of all things here,
my crooked, black, and lying heart still spits its bitter fear.
And each and every sparrow,
You see them flutter to the ground before they die,
So please God don’t forget me.
See from His head, His hands, His feet, Sorrow and love flow mingled down! Did e’er such love and sorrow meet, Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
To Christ, who won for sinners grace By bitter grief and anguish sore, Be praise from all the ransomed race Forever and forevermore!
FindingTheCourageToDream.com 