When I Grow Up, Dreams

I am not sure the first thing I really wanted to do when I grew up...it probably involved sports, but I want to talk more about a job, a career I was thinking about having growing up, and how I think God interpreted it much like He interpreted what three trees wanted to do when they grew up in The Tale of The Three Trees (ingenious name don't ya think-hehe).

Ok so the first tree wanted to grow up to be a treasure chest.
The second tree wanted to grow up to be a strong sailing ship.
The third tree wanted to grow up to be the tallest tree in the world, one people looked up to.

And me, I as far as I can remember, I started out wanting to be a veterinarian (to help animals, keep them healthy) but then I realized I would have to see them when they were sick and that would hurt my heart too much. So then I was thinking about being a doctor or a nurse because it runs in the family and might have been slightly pushed (but also to help people and help save lives). This turned into sports medicine, to help athletes stay healthy, to help "save lives."

And what did God interpret all of these to mean?

"Many, many days and nights passed. The three trees nearly forgot their dreams."

The first little tree grew up to be a feed box for animals, that would later be the manger Jesus was placed in when He was a baby--what a treasure!

The second tree grew up to be the ship Jesus and His disciples were in the night He calmed the storm; he was carrying the King of Heaven and earth!

The third tree grew up to be the cross Jesus was crucified on, and when people thought of the third tree they would look up and think of God.

And I, I hope to be a writer, my way of being a fisher of men, my way of truly saving lives.

Thank God He understands our dreams better than we do!

Fences, Tin Boxes, And The Thief

So I have been meandering through Fences by August Wilson and Beloved by Toni Morrison and thinking about how they can apply to me and my life, and here's a little something I came up with quickly.

I've built some fences in my day. My heart's probably a bit rusted shut. I ain't never smoked tob--ok, so I've smoked tobacco, but only a couple puffs--what I am sayin, what I am trying to say, is I've built some fences up around myself, around my heart, locked it up a bit for all kinds of reasons. What's it to you? At least I can admit it--shoot! I'm sharing it with the world. You'd be wise to admit it too, but you won't. At least I admittin it. And I can't hear the flakes fallin, but I bet they are...I bet they are.

The thing about fences though, they keep things out for sure, but I been thinking, been thinking that now my life is more about what I keeping in, yeah...what I keepin in--in the inside part.

You see, some Man came up to me, I don't remember when, but He did; He came up and asked me for water or somethin when I was younger. I'd forgotten all about it up 'til recently, on the account of it happenin again and all. But He came up to me then. I couldn't let Him come inside, wasn't old enough to make that choice yet. I mean He could come in, but that wasn't what it's about, it's about asking Him to come in, ya know? This time I asked. He came in, to the inside part, right on past the fences, through the rust, to the inside of this old tin, He came in, He said my name! He knew my name! And it don't sound nothin like how other people go on and say it--nothing like them. It sound true when He say it, real, alive. And he said it with that look in His eyes, you know that look? It's a great look, He hugs you with His eyes, keeps you warm and safe and all wrapped up in love...it's a great look. But yeah, He came in, I wanted Him to, I sorta asked Him to this time. He opened me up, saw my heart bleeding its red. I didn't even know it at the time. Didn't even hear Him creep in; He came in like He was gonna steal something. But I saw Him, and He hugged me with His eyes, and He gone on and said my name like that. I knew He could steal whatever He wanted. And you know what He took? All He wanted was my box--He stole my tin box! Can you believe that? He came in like a thief to steal my heart! I didn't even know--I just let Him take it.

So yeah, I build fences, but you do too. The thing about fences though, people can still get in, things can get out. But these fences of mine now, now they are pretty much about keepin Him in. I don't never want Him to go away. These fences are to keep Him in. To keep anything not Him out. It sounds bad, having fences and all, fences to protect the rusted tin box, but I don't feel bad in this situation. It feels good. The rusty flakes fallin. Hearing my real name, hearing truth. Never feelin thirsty. It feels good. Good on the inside part, inside these fences. It feels good.

Principalities of Darkness

To Donald Miller, again from Searching For God Knows What, I am lying here realizing again (I've thought this before, just haven't really written it out yet) that Death, the shadow I was referring to below, can be used by both God and the Devil.

God uses Death to get us to heaven, to break Time's trap and somehow help our souls travel from Time's dimension into Eternity's, but the Devil uses is for... whatever, something, who am I to know what really happens? But the Devil also uses Death to instill a dread in us, a fear, and not God's fear, while God uses it to instill hope. This Shadow though, that is walking towards me, I am beginning to think it is less the Death God knows and more the Death the Devil knows. The Principalities of Darkness (Ephesians 6) are using this shadow to instill dread in me (and probably all of us for that matter-how quickly we forget Psalm 23 and Psalm 91:1).

There is no fear, not here in this valley, not in this shadow. This dread and fear is replaced with the hope of having all we need, of napping in a bed of fluffy memory-foam-type green, near gentle waters quiet enough so we can hear God whispering Truth in our ears (will we have ears? The things I think about, eh?), of a restored soul, of a limitless Never-Never Land-type feast at His table, of something about oil which doesn't sound all that appealing to me but to each his own (maybe a Bath and Body Works equivalent), and overflowing cups (I like virgin strawberry daiquiris, but I think He is talking about living water) (23). . .

May God teach me and help me to remember Death can and should instill hope as well as a God-type fear...remind me, oh Lord, the Sun is still there and will shine warmly on my face and whole inside and outside of me so very soon! I can't wait to "dwell" in Your shadow forever! (91:1)

Snuggle Time

We are coming up on my three year anniversary of a very difficult time in my life. I almost died, I knew I was dying somehow, I felt it somehow (slowly but surely), and I wanted to die (because the pain was so awful and the future so seemingly dark).

Those feelings about death are a lot to deal with once God says, "Ok child, I want to see what you do with this life; enjoy it the way I created you to enjoy it this time around." I clearly thought I was going to heaven. I just said goodbye to this world, and was ready to say hello to a shady peace, but peace nonetheless, and now I have to say goodbye to the peace and hello to this world--that doesn't seem all that fair. And it is much harder than you can imagine. But I have been and am trying to enjoy and live this life in a way I believe God wants me to. I slip up regularly, but I have changed a great deal for what I would say is the better as well.

Trees, sky, clouds, rain, birds chirping, sunsets and sunrises, all that mooshy stuff is beautiful and breathtaking and I stand in silence and awe of it regularly like one might expect.

Here is some Poetic Irritability as Poe would call it: People who honestly don't have that hard of a life (trust me I know) go around saying life is hard and I go around (in pain and extreme fatigue every day) saying life is beautiful. God definitely has changed me, especially because I used to be the one going around saying life is hard, suck it up. And this beautiful perspective is nice, it is real peace, without the dim shade of death hovering over it. There is light on this peace and I thank God for it, but...

...but around this time of year, the cold shadows start getting closer and closer. Like the sun is shining high and then this figure walks in front of it and its long shadow is reaching out toward me and then walking toward me and the darkness gets closer and closer, covering my feet, my legs, my stomach, my chest, my head, and before I know it I am lost in this shadow.

Currently I would say we are up to my feet, but I know it will get darker. Yeah death seems to just walk past me every year at this time now, so the Sun gets to shine on my face again and I am warmed again and life goes from dark to beautiful again, but it takes a while. And right now, now my feet are cooling in the darkness and I know more of me is getting colder, so I am going to tell you what I told my roommate from freshman year (Roomie I love you!): I just want to snuggle the shadows away....

A Good Piece of Your Life

Jim Bouton's famous baseball quote, well famous to me anyway, says "You spend a good piece of your life gripping a baseball and in the end it turns it was the other way around all the time." I have spent years agreeing with this quote, feeling as though I live by it, being in awe of the wisdom. Lately though, as I get closer to God, the more I strengthen my relationship with Him, the farther I feel from everything else, the farther I feel from things I was once in love with, the farther from baseball and softball I feel. I also blame (in a great way) Donald Miller from Searching For God Knows What, but also, I have come to see that baseball and softball just don't match up to God. I am closer to Him and farther from everything else. And it is ok. I think it is very good. I think God has a lot to say to me, and I am finally ready to listen. So I wanted to share with the world the "Christian" version of this quote that I (what I believe God may be saying through me) have come up with:

You spend a good piece of your life asking God why and in the end it turns it was the other way around all the time.

Time To Talk

I don't talk much, though in calling myself a writer I have discovered there is much to say. I love people, but I have spent most, if not all of my life, listening, and writing is the way I get a chance to speak without interruptions. I hope blogging will be all the conversations I want to have, but never seem to actually have, somehow creating a balance. I hope I begin to make some sense of the chaos of years of unspoken words. I hope writing on a more regular basis helps me go from calling myself a writer, to actually being one. Wish me luck!