Tag Archives: growing up

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.

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The Dream that Never Ends

“There is a part in everyday, where I lie to myself and say that it’s okay. ‘Cause if I don’t I think I’ll go insane, but the truth is I only have myself to blame.” ~The Spill Canvas

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I pinch myself to wake up from the dream that I have been dreaming every night and throughout the day.
The one that tells me that I may not be okay.
It is a dream where the protagonist is the antagonist, and the answer is hidden in another’s dream.
For my own is not sufficient these days.

I never wake up and I never let myself try to turn away.
Sleep is the constant that enters in like a poison.
Or goes down in my personal history as a conquering feat of strength.
The normal is never normal and the strange is a little to normal for my taste.

It takes a step backwards to see the path that I have placed myself.
But that path is  not the one that needs to be traveled upon.
The dream to my right, the one I have no control over is the path of love, by Love.
It answers me in my dreams the one that I never seem to wake up from.

Kindness is one side of a coin that I subscribe to.
Disdain is the other side and I don’t wish to flip the coin over.
I wish to throw it in a fountain making a wish that could turn into a prayer.
I wonder what side will be up when it reaches the bottom of the water?

I don’t mean to come off self loathing, but sometimes that is the only way for me to understand what I am even saying.
I would rather come off as hopeful and decide when I need to create a better persona for myself.
But the dreams that are constant do not let me have this luxury.
Maybe I need to take two steps back instead of one, or I need to realize that God has no desire for me to not like me?

Considering that I deserve nothing, but somehow I am loved speaks volumes.
And when the end is in sight since the day I was born, you would think that motivation to do better would come easy.
Sadly this is not the case.
For when I am down the dream withers and shows me the decay of the day.

I pinch myself to wake up from the dream that I have been dreaming every night and throughout the day.
The one that tells me that I may not be okay.
It is a dream where the protagonist is the antagonist, and the answer is hidden in another’s dream.
For my own is not sufficient these days.

“I’m stuck here wide awake in the wake of bad news. We know now what’s at stake, and I’m scared too. You know I can’t take naps cause they end in panic attacks. I can’t play video games cause I always end up depressed… Most days are bad days. We can’t wait for someone to pull me off of the concrete…I can’t believe I got this weak.” ~The Wonder Years

My Personal Perception Personified By Convictions

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“I was a pharisee. I never saw the need for grace. Then your love came to me, stood next to mine and I saw that I was poor. Show me I was poor, show us we are…glorious. We are glorious not from what good we have done, but from being the least.”  ~As Cities Burn

 

Sunlight hits your cheek, and the glimmer awakens something deep inside of me.
A longing that I never knew existed before.
Well, that is not entirely true.
I have known, and I have seen but I have never believed.

Sunlight graces the edge of a cliff.
The shadow it creates is more beautiful than the light…to me.
It is signifies the stretch of time between then and now.
Before your glimmer equaled more than an anxious feeling.

Take a chance on me and one day God I will fully be more.
Take a chance on me Lord and I will fail you.
Take a chance on me King and I will disappoint.
But if you take a chance on me, I swear I will believe.

Sunlight hits another.
That ends before it even began.
Not a chance to truly develop because I effed that up.
I let the pain of the past come in and take what may.

Sunlight decides to shine on me, and I hate the way it looks me in the eye.
I prefer to be held in a lie.
To take it and nurture it so I can hide from the truth.
The truth that I am worth it, that grace has set me free.

Take a chance on me friend and I will fail you.
Take a chance on me girl and maybe we can help one another.
Take a chance on me good sir and our friendship might blossom into perfect chaos.
But if you take a chance on me know I am all in, and every chance I get I wish to do something for you…not for me.

I sing for my sins.
I sing for my false religion.
I tantalize my being with a song that is not from the One who gave it all.
I am an idolater when I need a bit of a pick me up.

But Jesus I beg of thee…take a chance on me.
Let me be an offering when I run away.
Let my knees buckle when the sunlight reveals the flaws.
Have me weep in an apartment on a Sunday afternoon when it is just you and me.

Sunlight is my enemy, it is my best friend, it is my lover, and my guide.
I run from the sunlight just as much as I run to it.
Comfort from my own understanding, depression caused from my way of thinking.
Sinning and believing, doubting and worshiping.

Baptizing the inter sanctum of my mind’s eye.
A world view taking root before the very nature of life even starts.
I take the wine and the bread to partake in my belief.
And then I look to the ground and try to do it my own way.

Will I ever get a chance to pick a side.
Will the struggle be made plain, so I can actually reach up to Heaven and be wiped clean?
This world is a mine filled travesty, made into a sin woven tapestry.
I do not belong in this place and my body fights that fact every day.

Do you know who I am?!
Do you think I am this mess of a man?
Do you think I have zero intelligence on the subject of my Savior?
Do you know who I am?!

Do I know who I am?!
Do I think I am worth the very air I breathe?
Do I think that there is something better after death?
Do I know who I am?!

I am a man…and this is my personal perception personified by my convictions.
A sin filled life from the start, and a longing to keep on doing it.
When I know that my vices will never let me win.
Yet, I struggle and I call out day after day.
For I am a man, that does not like to go outside when the sun is shining and hoping to play.

I am a man… broken, bitter, loved, saved.
I am just a man…one that has no control, ever since I went down on my knees.
I am not a savior…but I do look to one.
I am a man…flawed, hurt, depressed, anxious.
Yet hope is still there…

The sunlight hits a cheek far away from where I am today.
One day I think I will see.
If I want to be a better me…
I need to answer prayer with prayer and know there is hope that never goes away.

“Burning out my sins until there’s nothing but dust. Holding me with care into your cigarette. Cause the God I believe in never worked on a campaign trail.”    ~Brand New519048855_1280x720

The Reader Turned Author

“So now I’m forging ahead past all the plutocrats who sold me out. Go sob in your bed, if life is twice as pretty once you’re dead. Then send me a card. I’m still the optimist though it is hard, when all you want to be is in a dream.”    ~Say Anything

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I open up this book.
It looks like a good read.
A good cover, old, and full of promise.
The first few pages grip me and I dive in a little further.

One hundred pages in things start to turn.
The pages change and the light that was in my eye begins to fade.
I really wish I could stop reading,
But then I realize this book is my life and I an not the reader but the authror.

A non fiction tale of a boy who wished for the world and received coal.
A story decided by false senses of control.
A story laid out from the middle, to the beginning and then the end.
Thank God the end is always where it is supposed to be.

Disjointed pages make for a difficult read.
Dreams that came true and then failure ensues.
People lost in time and wondering why they had to be killed off for the narrative.
Maybe once I reach the end of the chapter it will make sense.

Of course that is not the case.
Each chapter ends on a cliff hanger.
Your dream fulfilled,
But then you remember that you have more life to live, and you run scared like a little kid.

A funny thing about life is that it keeps on going.
A wonderful thing about life is there is a hope that never lets go of you.
A roller-coaster ride of emotion going up and then down.
A dichotomy between what they say and what makes you run away.

I turn the page and something different catches my eye.
A glimmer at the end of this road.
A little spark that invites even the coldest of hearts to its burning coals.
He starts to run… I start to run towards the brief light that lingers.

As I continue to write and try to reach my full potential
As I run to a hope that for some reason continues to shine through.
As I choose to believe instead of doubt.
Maybe even the middle can be great for a little cynic like me.

But then again even my warmest days lead me astray.
And the cold ones bring me comfort because I stay inside, instead of coming out to play.
I read a bit further and then decide to sit on my hands and read a play.
Maybe the stage directions will give me more insight than this dusty book full of blue and gray.

I’be hidden a note, it’s pressed between pages that you’ve marked to find your way back. It says, ‘Does he ever get the girl?’ But what if the pages stay pressed, the chapters unfinished, the stories too dull to unfold? Does he ever get the girl?”   ~Dashboard Confessional

Mediocre Life

Won’t you climb high and shower some correction on me? Don’t you dare disguise your colorful predictions are clear.    ~Fair

 

~Mediocre Life~

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I am living tonight.
I am going to be the best man I can be.
Look at that cliché.
I love it.

Equal parts majestic and striking.
Glorious illusions of happiness versus hardship.
Fallacies coming from the very place I call home.
I was built for more than this mediocre life.

Let me look for introductions to the other side.
Introductions to faith, love, and happiness.
Epilogues that bleed into new beginnings.
Laced with a drug that feels more like medicine.

I am built for more than this mediocre life.
I am built for hope.
I am built for redemption.
I am to be me and release the sideways stature of a man searching for an answer.

I stand at a crossroad.
They always say to choose left or right.
I say, “I choose neither.”
I will step off the path and forge a new one.

For I am worth more than mediocrity.
I wish to defend the defenseless.
Help the hopeless and realize that life is worth living.
Hope is decided when the player starts the game.

Dear child please stand up, so you can be more than what they call you.
For you deserve more than this mediocre life.
Dear child let your life be a guide post to all who wish to see.
For you are more than a speck in the universe.
You are uniquely you.

 

Always Growing

Count your blessings that you’ve never seen the things the simple things were ours to take. But the questions danced around our innocence and now the innocence is nothing more than faith.                 ~Emery

~Always Growing~

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Articulating a response is harder than you think.
A simple hello turns into a head shake while walking away.
When words jumble in your mouth,
And the lack of coherence starts to fly south.

Growing up can be hard.
Whether you are 16 or 73.
Everyday can be new.
And everyday can teach you how to be you.

A practice known by many.
The lack of anything interesting to say.
When word vomit becomes the norm.
How embarrassing.

A boy walks into the room.
A boy sees.
A boy leaves.
No, man was ever seen.

Growing up can be hard.
Whether you are 16 or 73.
Everyday can be new.
And everyday can teach you how to be you.

Age is now older and things seem to have fallen into place.
A family a wife, and safe grace.
But even in this life a tragedy can strike fast.
And you may fall apart or remember you have won in the past.

Articulating a response can be hard.
Whether it is a crush in front of you or a child asking questions.
The rules of life can be simple.
It is what you do with them that can make a boy into man.

Growing up can be hard.
Whether you are 16 or 73.
Everyday can be new.
And everyday can teach you how to be you.