Category Archives: life

What is in a Smile?

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There is something going on.
There is a muscle in my cheek that hurts.
I keep on smiling for no apparent reason,
But the problem is that I know exactly why.

My beaming comes and doesn’t end.
A simple hello, a song on the radio.
My head tuning into an emotion that isn’t recognized by my cheeks.
Thank God for the expression spreading across my face; with the hope that it brings.

I’m not used to this feeling.
A sparkle of sunlight hitting the edges of my lips.
Cracking open a smile that spreads to my chest.
Washing away the frost that usually makes its home on my heart.

Because I never learned how to sustain this feeling.
The one that says its okay to be happy.
Always hoping the day would come where I could look for the other side.
Where God shines down and I realize where the truth lies.

I have a  giddy look upon my face.
I look like a child entering into a candy store for the first time.
The colors spreading beyond the inner child.
Exposing the faults that have been lingering for a while now.

A simple phone call.
A text that is unexpected.
I can’t stop smiling.
A simple thought about a certain thing brings on this disease.

A disease that I never wish to be rid of.
One that is brought on by thankfulness.
One that is given through grace, hope, and a simple hello.
“Hey.” Is all that needs to be said.
And I answer that with a muscle that is not used to being used.

There is something going on.
There is a muscle in my cheek that hurts.
I keep on smiling for no apparent reason,
But the problem is that I know exactly why.

And I gotta say, I’m damn sure I never want it to end.

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Lock and Key

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Sometimes I wonder if it would be better not to live forever.
When death finally takes me to go into nothing.
To find peace in the ending.
Finite and not infinite.

Sometimes I wonder things I shouldn’t.
But I guess that makes me human.
A man.
Flawed, but one day saved.

Sometimes I miss things that would love to find me.
A leech that breaches the edges of my skin.
Sometimes it seems right to give in.
When life feels dull and doing right seems wrong.

Under lock and key is a door to another world.
One where everything I know is flipped.
Where right is left and left is right.
But somehow up is still up and down, down.

The door easily found and the key not hard to find.
To enter is to see differently.
But not necessarily morally.
Sometimes it feels better to be in the dark.

Sometimes I wonder if this is the place where I am meant to be.
Taking refuge in a world that is against what I believe.
Easy, wide, and short.
Quick rewards, and quick thrills.

One that let’s me do all the things my flesh wants to do.
Early expressions with neatly wrapped packages.
Sitting under the lock and decorated with the key.
Oh, God… What is wrong with me?

Sometimes I wonder if it would be better not to live forever.
When death finally takes me to go into nothing.
To find peace in the ending.
Finite and not infinite.

But this feeling usually goes away.
How long it lasts is different day to day.
Sometimes it hurts to stay in the fray.
Especially when you all feel so far away.

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Artwork By: Keighty Rae

It Would Nice to Have Window

Walls surround and call my name.
Not long before I fall asleep.
Not walls made of wood and plaster.
But walls made of black and other dark colors.

A room built.
A room that isn’t always the same.
Sometimes I am given a chair.
Sometimes there is nothing there.

My eyes go up.
My eyes go down.
It is hard to look left.
It is hard to look right.

I open my eyes some nights during sleep.
I look around inside of the dream.
This dream is sometimes hopeful and lovely.
But mostly it is a nightmare brought on by my lack of self esteem.

I am very aware of what I can do.
What I can’t do.
When I am stylized.
When I am talking out of my… you know.

It would be nice to have a window.
So that the light in the room can be shown in the night.
I am on a hill looking down and up.
Hoping in hope, to show people that I can offer a rope.

But the nightmare continues on.
Building more walls.
And resisting any calls.
But the hope is still there,  desiring to wake up and not despair.

This world is not in my control.
I cannot take down these walls.
Only Love has the power to shake up this room.
So I may better share the hope that I know to be true.

I am given a match.
I light it up, and drop it down.
The walls burn to the ground in the form of a tune.
I take up Your hope, and go out to build a better room.

Put on Your Dancing Shoes

Put on the charm.
Carry out the action.
Dance to the symmetry.
But do it quickly because you never know how long you have left.

Right outside is beauty.
Formed together by grace and elegance.
A 1950’s charmer.
A dance that accompanies both melancholy and hope.

Put on the swing.
Dance a little slower than you might otherwise.
Pursue a bit faster than what is comfortable.
But do it genuinely, or it will all be for naught.

Pulling up with windows down.
Cruising down with the wind blowing inside.
Clearing your head for what is to come.
No,  after thoughts to crush the high you are now on.

Put on the charm.
Form a thought about another.
Dance to the entropy that comes after the symmetry.
But do it quickly…

Put on your dancing shoes.
This club isn’t for everyone.
Find out if you got what it takes.
And if you do, treasure, love, and be you no matter what others tell you.

Pursue the lover.
Dance like no other.
Please be a true charmer.
Be filled with symmetry and of course a little entropy.

 

 

 

Ring in a New Tune (Part 2 of 3)

 

Please Lord, give me at least one more song to sing.
One more voice to get me through the day.
A melody that I can follow.
Or maybe even one that is chaotic but beautiful.

Take a chord and let it ring true.
A single sound that lights this day through and through.
Follow it up with the beat of a drum,
So I may have a reason to walk and know where I am from.

Please Lord, give me one more song.
Let it stretch high and take shape before you and me.
A melody that I can follow.
Or maybe even one that is chaotic but true.

My expectations of myself cloud my expectations of others.
A shroud that muffles the sound of an otherwise beautiful tone.
I look and see, but do I really?
Do I see what really needs to be seen.

You look at my brokenness,
With my broken strings and busted tom.
You look at me in my depression,
And somehow you pull out a truth that I never saw before.

Please Lord, give me one more song to sing.
Fix my broken instruments, while I try and play before you.
Help me make a melody that I can follow.
Or maybe one that is chaotic but doesn’t mislead.

Please Lord, I am only a man.
One that is made from flesh and blood.
Maker, I need a song to sing.
A song to show the world that the soul is what needs to be cleaned.

A Dwelling Place

“My heartbeat, my oxygen, my banner, my home, my future, my song, your hope is the anthem of my soul.” ~Switchfoot

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There is more to now than what is coming next.
Or what happened before the moment.
But we dwell on such things instead of wondering what is happening at this present moment.
Answering the questions of the past to try and determine our futures.

It is not wrong to think ahead, or learn from the past.
I encourage it daily.
The problem is sometimes we put more stock into who we are…
And forget to see where we’re at.

The person I am now is not the same as the one before.
Maybe I grew up, maybe I went backwards.
All I know is I am here and I am alive.
I am holding onto the hope that was placed upon my heart.

When I think to hard about what my mind used to call home,
I reject all the good that has happened since.
I retreat to a mindset that I have no desire to revisit.
I am not that person anymore and I need to leave the past where it belongs.

When I try to see passed the next five minutes, I start to see what I have not done.
“I have failed.” I say.
“Why am I single, why is no one there by my side?”
But God has a plan, and right now is where He wants me to be at.

I put too much stock into what I have not done.
I put too much stock into who I have been.
I should be happy with the now.
Happy with the man God has currently shaped me to be.

Thoughts brought on by reality.
Togetherness equals strength.
Family is more than an emotional crutch.
And hope is the desire of the past to the present, and to the future of all that I will do.

Being Afraid of God

“If God is smaller than my fears, then He is not God. But it’s not just with our doubts and fears, it’s with so many other areas of our life as well. We think God can’t handle the truth of who we are so we make Him smaller than He really is.” ~Jon Foreman

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You see, I am a man that is scared of God.
I am terrified of His voice.
I decide it is better to be stranded in the dessert than accept the water.
You see, I am fearful but not out of reverence but genuine fear.

That is not to say I do not revere.
He is my creator, my maker.
He is the one that gives me life and meaning.
Yet when I stare Him in the eye I must look away because I am scared what He has to say.

I am so aware of my own humanity that I forget that I have a man who saved me.
At the same time I never forget His love, I am just frightened that He will stop loving me.
Because I have no understanding of why He loves me so.
I am a lowly man that has more vices than good qualities.

I target my prayers to fix what is broken.
I lock onto a subject and ask for the answer instead of worshiping the man, my Savior.
For He is the reason I keep on trying.
Even when I fail and fall flat on the floor.

I try and I try but my way is not the same.
It is not the same as the One who gave it all.
I told you that this ends now, the anxiety, the hurt, and I meant it,
But right now I finally think I am ready to face my fear.

For God I am terrified of you.
I am scared of your love, of your forgiveness, of your loving-kindness.
I am frightened that a God who has no reason to Love me does.
I am so terrified I, but I am ready to look you in the eye and quiet possibly be a better me.

Locked into a different way of thinking for my own is failing me.
God I am on my knees, I am praying for more than an answer.
I am praying for my well being, my death, my resurrection, my reluctance to come to you.
I am a broken man and I know it.

I wish to breathe and to take your hand instead of wanting to drown.
I am too comfortable with my anxiety, my comfort of drowning in this tablespoon of water.
It gives me comfort to know that this pain is my normal.
But here I am Lord laying out before you to take me to a place where I have a comfort other than my own insecurities.

A child reaching out his hand through the thorns.
A child wanting to grow.
A face that senses the fear of the unknown.
A chance to let go and let the faith of the child shine through.