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sometimes all you need is a reminder from a friend.
thank you kate.
i should have said that earlier. i should have said that when i first heard your voicemail. im sorry i didnt. i guess, in some selfish way, by not acknowledging how much the voicemail meant to me, i could pretened that i didnt need it. that certain parts of life werent as rough.
i could pretened that i didnt really really want to hug you right then.
you’re a true friend. and im realizing the the people like you, like jenna and april dont come along very often. thank you kate. again and again and again. for being there. for letting me vent. for caring. you’re a beautiful woman with a breathtaking heart.
and you are loved.
so the question still remains. whats next? its nearly been two years since i got to texas. can you believe that? two years. and in some ways ive flourished, and in others, im lost wandering the land of always winter.
ive found myself, feeling very lost at times. wondering what im supposed to be doing. why i am here. where the ‘connections’ are that i seem to be missing.
april talked in her blog about the blessing her brother was coming into. the connections he had made. he was finding his place. discovering who he is. i yearn for that.
not to long ago someone said that without a vision, we die. i think it is especially true for guys. we need a goal. a vision to hold the randomness of our lives together. without a goal… without a goal we lose ourselves. we lose our ability to look up, to look beyond ourselves. and we begin to wonder if all we see around us really is all that there is.
its scary when you start to ask those questions. but if youre brave, you allow yourself to face them. althought i must say, i dont always like the answers. answers that tell me i live much of my life in fear. fear of not being good enough. of losing my job. of being the wrong person. of saying the wrong thing. of being unloved.
now i can stand here and point to specific times in my life when each of those fears were birthed. i can tell you how i logically attacked each one. how i developed very intricate strategies and defenses in dealing with them… but honestly, none of it matters.
im hungry. so desperately hungry. hungry for a church to call home. hungry for worship like bethel. to sit behind a sound board again. im hungry for a friend to just be with. hungry for the phone to ring with an invite for some coffee. its the desire to be wanted. to feel valued. to find hope in what one can offer.
we’re all born with the desire to love and be loved. we’re all born with dreams woven deeply into the very core of who we are. and when we allow ourselves to be the most real, those cries are what we hear. cries to worship. calls to dream again.
playing with a thunderstorm, the name of this blog. the name comes from the Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. in the part of the book where Aslan has just sacraficed himself to save the prodigal son, the two daughters of eve find Aslans body lying on the stone sacrificial table…. and, well, i’ll let you read it.
the stone table was broken into two pieces by a great crack that ran down it from end to end; and there was no Aslan.“oh oh oh!” cried the two girls, rushing back to the table. “oh its too bad” sobbed lucy; “they might have left the body alone.” “who’s done it?” cried susan. “what does it mean? is it more majic?”
“Yes!” said a great voice behind their backs. “It is more majic.” they turned around. there, shining in the sunrise, larger than they had seen him before, shaking his mane (for it had apparently grown again) stood Aslan himself.
“oh Aslan!” cried both of the children, staring up at him, aslmost as much frightened as they were glad. “aren’t you dead then, dear Aslan?” said lucy.
“Not now” said Aslan.
“you’re not-not a-?” asked susan in a shaky voice. she couldnt bring herslef to say the word ghost. Aslan stooped his golden head and licked her forehead. the warmth of his breath and a rich sort of smell that seemed to hang about his hair came all over her.
“do I look it?” he said.
“oh, you’re real, you’re real! oh Aslan!” cried lucy, and both girls flung themselves upon him and covered him with kisses. “but what does it all mean?” asked susan when they were somewhat calmer.
“it means,” said Aslan, “that though the Witch knew the Deep majic, there is a majic deeper still which she did not know. her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. but if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. she would have known then when a willing victim who had commited no treachery was killed in a traitors stead, the table would crack and death itself would start working backwards. and now-“
“oh yes, now?” said lucy, jumping up and clapping her hands.
“oh, children,” said the Lion, “i feel my strength coming back to me. oh, children, catch me if you can!”
He stood for a second, His eyes very bright, His limbs quivering, lashing himself with his tail. then he made a leap high over their heads and landed on the other side of the table. laughing, though she didnt know why, lucy scrambled over it to reach him. Aslan leaped again. a mad chase began. round and round the hilltop he led them, now hopelessly out of their reach, now letting them almost catch his tail, now diving between them, now tossing them in the air with his huge and beautifully velveted paws and catching them again, and now stopping unexpectedly so that all three of them rolled over together in a happy laughing heap of fur and arms and legs. it was such a romp as no one has ever had except in Nanria; and wether it was more like playing with a thunderstorm or playing with a kitten lucy could never make up her mind….
so, the rest of the story remains to be written.
im going to dream.
im going to be someone.
im going to find my place.
and i will overcome.
i must admit that ive not spent as much time reviewing this past year as i have in previous new years posts. im sure there will be time to focus on what has happend, what is happening and what is coming, but for now… for now i think it best to list what i am thankful for.
so, 25 things in 2005 (that im thankful for)
in no particular order
the family
the job
the dog 🙂
radom IMs from rose that totally make my day
messages from jenna that challenge me
new friends
saying goodbye to old friends
mercy
grace
words of peace and of hope from april
sisters 🙂 (ok so i said family already, sue me)
Christmas!
walks in the park
trips to the zoo
starbucks
hot coffee in the morning
hot coffee in the morning that i didnt have to make
80 degrees on new years
i changed
God didnt
things learned
books read, and reading
music!
prayer
here is to 2006, to the dreamers whos dreams are slowly reawakening. to the call that resounds from the depths of our hearts. here is to…. here is to continuing to experience His presence, respond to His love, and answer the call.
(fire 2006? who knows.)
all i know is that its time to dream again
i almost always stay up past midnight. most nights its just the unintentional drive to stay awake until im exhausted, but tonight; tonight was different.
tonight was intentional. tonight…. today actually, we celebrate. our dear Saviours birth.
In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to his own town to register.
So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”
Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.
may we rest tonight in the company of angels, in the joy of shepherds and in the determination of wise men. may our hearts be again opended to the reality of Christs birth, the simplicity of salvation and the joy that this season brings. may our hearts, our minds and our spirits be filled with His, and with all of who He is.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night
things like this dont usually come easy to me. im typically the one helping, not asking for help. but i made a promise to a friend; and i was reminded once again that even our heroes, the mighty men and women who have walked the road we’re on, needed help.
and saul’s son jonathan went to david at Horesh and helped him find strength in God….
sometimes we need someone to help us find strength in God.
so this is me, asking for help. actually, im not looking for help so much as i am looking for a few people who know where im coming from. people who on occasion, need to be reminded that God is still God.
the longer i live the more i realize i cannot do this on my own. so maybe it is asking for help. its a cry, my hearts cry. i know there are people out there just like me. who need someone that they can turn to when the other shoe drops, or even just during a bad day. who need to know that this someone will cover them in prayer, go to war for them, and is simply there spiritually for them.
if you’re like me, this is your invitation. heck, even david needed someone to remind him where his strength was found. shouldnt we be able to say we need the same thing? anyone interested?
feel free to email sirpjtheknight@gmail.com
i know we dont talk as often as we should. and i know that its my fault. i guess part of me still holds the last 4 years against you. part of me is still scared that your some malicious person just waiting for me to be happy again. just waiting. holding the other shoe over my head…. just waiting for the right time to let it drop.
im learning that i am a conflicted person. and as afraid of you as i am, im also hungry to worship you. hungry for friendships that will reflect your love. hungry to be surrounded by people who arent ashamed to proclaim your name. your truth. your freedom. your love.
im hungry.
you show me who i am to you, and yet i still see with blinding clarity, who i am to me. and sadly, i look at the me side more than i look at the you side. so maybe its not you im afraid of. maybe im afrad of me. and my utter unworthyness. maybe its my fear of you seeing how horrible i truly am. and no longer wanting to love me.
its the prodigal son, standing at the darkness of the doorway, just outside his Fathers dining hall. looking longingly into the light of the room. watching the feast. watching the joy… crying as he sees the uncondtional love that his Father pours on his guests.
its the desire to step out of the dark, and leave the grime encrusted clothes behind… walk into the light and just be loved. its the hunger to be me. its the hunger to know…
to know you
this is the air i breathe
this is the air i breathe
your holy presence living in me
this is my daily bread
this is my daily bread
your very word spoken to me
and i
im despereate for you
and i
im lost without you
and i
im desperate for you
and i
im lost without you
what does a real christian look like? seirously now. what does one whos so abandoned themselves to an all loving King truly look like. would i recognize them if i knew them before?
what does finding ones freedom in losing ones self look like? who would i be if i truly let go of my fears? of the things that keep me in my safe little hole? who would i be if i let myself be the real me? what would happen? would i still be loved if people knew who i was? who i could have been?
is true love really the ability to look into the blackness of anothers soul and yet still, amongst the utter ruins, find something lovely… something love-able?
there have been times the past few weeks where ive felt overwhelmed. drowing. drowning in my self. there have been times where ive just felt lost. where these questions are the ones im asking. where the answers to these questions are what im yearning for.
who am i? who could i be? and would i still be love-able?
what would i look like if i truly let go? if i released all hold on my life and let God have His way? would you recognize me? would i?
and not be moved by You
would You tell me how could it be
any better than this
cos You’re all i want
all i need
You’re everything
everything
You’re all i want
You’re all i need
You’re everything
everything
i saw your name just now. can we say ‘caught offguard’? and wow… ive absolutely no idea how to react.
what did i do?
what did i say?
you’re just, you left. youre gone.
part of me is desperate to find out what on earth i did. part of me wonders if it wasnt something i dont know about, but, just a cumulation of me not being the person i should have been.
but another part of me is quietly whispering to me… its telling me that you’ve repeatedly said i didnt do anything. that i hadnt screwed up. that i know nothing and that therefore its pointless for me to try to apologize.
everyone makes mistakes. and im sorry for those i made.
but im not going to apologize to you anymore. i want to not worry about what happened. i want to not freak out every time i see your name. life goes on. and ive got to go with it.
but i dont want too. i want to sit here. i want to tell you im scared. im worried. im hurt and im lost and im wondering…
im wondering why.
bring subtle warnings to remember
to kiss the ones you love goodnight
you never know what temporal days may bring
laugh and love, live free and sing
when life is discord-
praise ye the Lord
im beginning to realize that our capacity for joy, our ability to expierence the happiness that living contains, our skill at seeing the good, the happy, the things to smile about in the everyday, is linked to the hell we’ve seen.
there are times when i dont think i could laugh at what i laugh at, had i not cried when i did. there are times when i sit back and realize i wouldnt be able to live, love and laugh as often as i do, i wouldnt be as thankful for what i have; if i wasnt forced to realize what could be, and at times was, lost.
we went to the texas state fair today. its a yearly tradition for my family to go at least once to the state fair. good food. fun car show. overall a great time. but something caught me, something made me pause.
we ended up watching one of those dog shows where they take the dogs through different skills. frisbee catching, pole-weaving, flat out speed, etc. we’d been last year to this show and it proved again to be a fun time.
i sat amazed throughout almost the entire show. not at how many frisbees were caught, or how high the dogs could jump, but at how rapt these four legged animals were with their owners, with their masters. the crowd of easily 2-3 thousand, the other dogs, the noise, the music, the announcer, none of it mattered. these dogs attention was unwaveringly focused on their masters. nothing else mattered. they litterally exploded out of the cages and their eyes didnt leave their masters.
and beyond that, they were having fun. they lived for what they were doing.
what hit me the hardests? the frisbees.
each dog did some amazing tricks catching frisbess thrown all over the arena. and each and every dog missed some frisbees…. but get this, they DID NOT CARE.
they didnt stop and apologize, they didnt lose focus, they didnt for one second wonder or fear or second guess the love their masters had for them. they didnt lose it, they didnt break down or stop trying. they kept going. they forgot about the dropped frisbee immediately for the next thing flowing from the hand of their master. they were living in the gaze of their masters and absolutely nothing else mattered.
it didnt matter if they dropped 1 frisbee, or all of them. this wasnt about the frisbee tricks, it wasnt about a job well done, it wasnt about the crowd, or the guy who just dropped his hamburger, this wasnt about the circumstances or surroundings, this wasnt about being better than the next dog. this was about the master. this was about the next chace they’d get to be in His arms, to feel His love and know that they were the only thing that mattered to him. this was about the master and only the master.
these four legged animals that cannot talk, cannot clean up after themselves, these smelly, slobery dogs were teaching me about life. about truly living. about not caring about their surroundings, about living in a time where every conceivable distraction is thrown at you, and yet your focus doesnt waver.
what world i would live in if i could only learn to live for the masters gaze. to live in all that He has for me, to forget the dropped firsbees, the messes left, the times i made a mistake or flat out disobeyed. who would i be if i truly dropped all pretenses and let myself rely on the truth that His love for me isnt based on catching firsbees? what impact would i have if i was freed to be me, to live for being with my master and to love every single moment of life? who would i be? how would i change? what would happen if i stopped crying over dropped frisbess, and simply began to live?
something struck me earlier this evening.
2005 is almost over with.
i know, its october on the calendar. that should be a clue that “hey, the year is drawing to a close”. what hit me harder, was the fact that life still feels like its on hold.
like im circling the airport, the sunset behind me, but there isnt an open runway. my landing gear isnt dropping. “something” is keeping me from the next thing.
part of me is pushing for the next thing. part of me is hungry. unsatisfied. unwilling to accept the “now” in favor of lusting after the “next”. its a void in my life. and i know its there.
but another part of me is quietly wondering if this is the “next”. if i should stop living in the hope of a next and start living in the real of the now.
maybe its because life isnt easy. and we humans dont like to intentionally put ourselves where it hurts. but it does. losing a best friend hurts. watching your sister break down into tears at the mere thought of eating a meal hurts. being totally helpless about both of those situations… it hurts.
and the part of me that is whispering quietly about the benefit of the “now”. is quickly being drowned out by the part of me that is screaming. screaming in frustration. screaming in anger. screaming in hate. screaming in pain. screaming in fear. screaming alone.
there is supposed to be a beauty in surrendering. in learning to let go. in letting loose. there is suposed to be a beauty in giving up and giving it over to our Creator.
im beginning to believe that this beauty has more in common with an ancient shipwreck nestled in the coral at the bottom of the sea, than the beauty youd see in your local mall. its exotic. its unusual. its a beauty brought of violence. a beauty birthed with tears. a beauty that doesnt come from pampering or prestiege, but one born from loss, heartache, pain.
the difference between this beauty and the one our world worships, the one you see plastered in magazines, on tv, billboards and desired by women everywhere, the difference between true beauty and this plastic beauty is that true beauty is earned… and it cannot die.
it doesnt need to be touched up. it cannot be reapplied. it doesnt fade, warp, change or lose its luster.
true beauty is born from a brokeness within. true beauty exudes a light that no darkness, no matter how powerful, can extinguish. true beauty is both terrifying and wonderful. true beauty is a process. its a journey. and its one that requires the willingness, each and every day to step up and answer questions that you dont want to be asked. it demands all you have and when you think you’ve given all you can, it shows you more that must be given.
true beauty is horribly beautiful.
and its what i live for. or rather, what i want to live for.
so if this is “now”. if it means i need to stop panting for the “next”. then so be it. im already to the conlusion that its beyond my own power to accomplish either goal. this, more or less, is just my confession that i cannot do it. i cannot create in myself, by myself the beauty i so hunger to see. the beauty i need.
and therein lies the key.
i need.
and i cannot fulfill the need.
come awake. from sleep, arise. you were dead, become alive. wake up wake up. open your eyes. climb from your grave into the light.
bring us back to life


































