מדוע

Why do we write?

      Because we want to be heard?

      We want to be known, cared for, loved?

Why do we hide?

     Maybe it's so that we don't get hurt.

     Or that we don't hurt others. 

Why do we hope?

     Because without it, we can't change?

     Or because it's the only thing we have left?

Why do we despair?

     Probably because we think there is better that could be had, yet out of reach.

     And that there could be something more, but we don't think we can get it. 

Why do we love?

     Because without it, we're empty shells?

     Or that it's the only thing that can fill us up?

Why do we ask questions?

     Because we long for rest and truth.

     For without Truth, we are but ghosts, hopeless and forever lost.

For Every Beautiful Wallflower

Feeling like no one understands. That the whole world is spinning around you, but somehow it's leaving you behind. That it just keeps on racing and you sit and watch as your future runs away.

That is part of what it means to be human, for each of us feel that.
For each of us to feel alone.

We see the pain and the sorrow and we ask if love is worth it.
We live in the regret and the anguish and we wonder if we can really make it.

How can something so broken ever be made whole?
How could I ever be anything for you?

We hope we can rise, for we fall, but we seem to fall farther then we rise.
And slowly we feel that we were never alive in the first place, that we never breathed the mountain air.

Our glasses tint red and soon we lose sight of the love that was the point in the beginning.
And so we either let go and stop, or we fall and fall and fall again.

Pain seems all that love can produce when we wear those shaded eyes.
When we walk blind to love, life's purpose soon passes away.

Yet we strive to think of it. That blissful ideal.
That we could be happy, that we could learn to live.

Though we want to thrive in this life, we are barely surviving.
How can we hold others up if we can't stand ourselves?

How can we love when all we can give is shards?
And what is love then, if it is only to instigate pain?

                   ~~~

Because we forget.
We were created to be beautiful.

We were fashioned in the likeness of perfection.
And that original ideal has never left the Potter's mind.

For love, it was never the thought to leave brokenness to itself.
Because without the gaps, love has no place to fill.

We're broken to love and be loved.
And in that moment, when light and love meet us...

We are alive

Open Book, Open Heaven

"A teacher never talks during a test, but I've got good news. It's always an open book test." -Jabin Chavez

I first heard this when a speaker at a large retreat was preaching about a year ago. I stood up in the presence of a thousand others youths and screamed, "amen" with my dear brother. It wasn't until quite recently, though, that that quote actually really tangibly made sense to me.

After leading a worship set for a small congregation a bit ago, a lady shared something with me. She opened up about a vision that she had whilst I was leading worship. As she talked to me, she explained how when I was leading worship and when I was praying, the heavens had opened up and those praises and those prayers had gone right up into heaven. Then, streaming lights began to fall down upon the earth, lighting it up.

I was amazed.

Worship had been awesome and it had been a superb time seeking the Lord, but what she said opened my eyes to something I never imagined. After just walking though a huge season of struggle and being in one at that time, to hear something like that blew my mind.

"The truth is right in front of you. Can you see it?" -Rich Harris 

I thank the Lord that He holds onto us though it all. 

And, as it says in 2 Timothy 2:13, "if we are faithless, He remains faithful— for He cannot deny Himself."

He is always there. 

"God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in times of trouble." -Psalm 46:1

Words Will Never Be Enough

I've been wanting to say something for so long. I want to get it out.
My heart wants to scream, just to scream.
It seemed there is little holding me back from completely going over the edge. Which is odd. I've never really thought about actually losing it. It's an interesting state of inquiry. Some days I can see the line and hear the quiet whisper pulling me into reason and purpose. Sometimes I walk simply as a ghost. Either I have my eyes on reality, or I don't.

Yup, I'm human.

Oh, how I long to step fully into reality and be rid of my self-inflicted state of confusion.
I don't know. I never know. I never will.
And that's okay. I know I don't have the answers, I have peace with that.
But being so lost and broken is... exhausting.
Sometimes I can see the ground under me, sometimes not.

God, I need you.

So much desperation. There is no question about it.
It's either Him or nothing. I have no choice but to say, "I trust You."
I have no "Plan B." There is no contingency plan.
Everyday He has to show up.

Without You, I am nothing.

"Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one. For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen."

Lord, help me. 

Framework & Patchwork

Remember those old photographs?
The ones that you pull out every other blue moon?
Well, there is something very special about those.

Here's a picture of my Great-Grandmother.
 
This picture tells a story, as all photos do.
These memories are glimpses from the past telling us of the future.
How? Well, your photos are still developing, but one day, if you're lucky, a great-grandson or grand daughter of yours will pick up an old photo. And, that picture will be part of the story of your life.

A story is passed on from generation to generation. And we, a community of people, humans, each with their own tales, are all woven together under the banner of our one single nature. Some might call this the human condition or dilemma, maybe our human nature. And, many religions try to comprehend, reveal, or quantify what we are and why we are what we are.

Really, we are impossibilities. Seeking impossibilities, relying on them, discovering them. But, through the mix and mire of our emotional state, there is a beautiful story told. That of a race of people, who are always wondering, always seeking, always hoping, always falling.

One life may be considered insignificant. Yours might when you compare it to the mass of our whole history, but the fact is, without you, with any of us, the picture would not be the same. 
So, weave it together. History, people, time, take all that we've done, all we are, bring it in unison into one thing. It's something.

But, that just our story. The human race. The little species that could.
There are far greater stories than ours. Far longer legacies than the one left here on our planet.
Even so, it's our lives to live, and our history to shape.

Sit down, grab a quilt and a cup of tea or hot cocoa.
Think about your life. What does being human mean to you?
An intro for "Who We Are." (http://everythingtothegreatiam.blogspot.com/2013/08/who-we-are.html)