Tag Archives: Switchfoot

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.

Morning Sickness

“Every lament is a love song.” ~Switchfoot

He stands on the edge of his mind and his heart.
Largely distracted by what is going on around him, and what is going on inside. 
Which one will win?
He knows, but he doesn't feel like telling and one. 

A morning sickness that has nothing to do with pregnancy.
A sickness developed from opening his eyes and realizing he is alive.
Stricken to his sheets, the ones that feel like home.
For the floor is lava and o scary to venture into alone.

Ducking and diving in and out.
Avoiding the fire that's coming from all around him.
The gun sight is set to his heart and others to his head.
One good shot and everything goes away, from them or even from the one he is carrying.

But the truth is he doesn't want this to be the case.
I don't think any of us really do.
But sometimes this world seems to be too much, and all he wants is to be somewhere else.
With someone who will never forsake him.

He sits alone on the porch that looks out into the yard.
A storm is brewing and the lightening is coming at regular intervals.
The wind picks up and the trees start to sway to the beat.
Clap clap, bang bang, flash flash...boom. 

His funeral is tomorrow and not an eye is dry.
Closed casket in the morning and sandwiches with aunts in the afternoon.
"We should get together more often." They will say.
"What an awful way to get the family together."

Leaving behind the mother and the father.
A part of the world ripped away by one single act.
Friends that loved  him, now on the floor wondering what they could have done better.
Wondering what they could have done to help him fly...

Easily Offended

See, opinions are easier to swallow than facts. The grays instead of the whites and the blacks. If you shoot it too straight it won’t come back. We’re selling the news.  ~Switchfoot

Waaah!

He’s on track for something beautiful.
A letdown that is described as genius.
Taking out those that offended him today.
But you know… his feelings were hurt because you glanced his way…
So it is okay.

Trudging around and taking names.
Knowing he is part of the group that will live to complain another day.
Thank God a joke was made I have something to get angry at.
Crap, everyone is being so nice, they must be hiding something… time to get upset.

Jumping to conclusions before asking questions.
Knowing answers before letting anyone speak.
This is the way of life for a lot of those around me.
The golden age of technology muddled by disarray.

When the facts are pushed to the side for an answer based on feelings.
Or being tolerant by breaking the others head.
Using the heart to justify all walks of life.
And having no limit on what is considered right.

But you know it is okay.
I’ll keep on living anyway.
Well maybe not,
If they deem my life not to be right…

You know what?
I’ll go on and live despite what they say.
Because I have a right to seek after what I think is right.
Even if it flies into the faces of the easily offended and trite.

 

 

 

Maybe a Bit of Entropy

“Stars looking at our planet watching entropy and pain.”  ~Switchfoot

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My empathy sometimes turns into entropy.
A confusion of thoughts and ideas that sometimes get thrown onto a blog.
A clear cut meaning doesn’t always come through.
But that is nothing new.

For people write, talk, and sing.
They do all these things to audiences that may or may not see what they are trying to say.
A little worry here, and a lot of anger over there.
A bit of chaos that can bind together the linearity of my life.

Break down what it means to be alive.
Take it down to the basic elements.
What are we left with?
I am left with you, God and me.
And maybe a bit of entropy.

When You Realize

“If you could let the pain of the past go, of your soul. None of this is in your control.” ~Switchfoot 
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My soul is thirsty and my heart has been broken.
I am crying out to all the things that I believe will make me whole.
The bottle and the strength of self,
The songs of those not inspired by the True Love.

My soul is thirsty and my heart is broken.
I am fine in the mornings and then it hits as I wake.
A storm eating into the very being of me.
Knowing I am hurt a bit more than the thing that hurt me.

When you put your whole heart into something without God it will not last.
When you try and do it by yourself it will fall apart.
When the thing you are next to is being held onto a little to tight.
When you realize you let your past dictate the way you respond to the present.

All these realizations come in waves.
Yet here I stand still trying to do it on my own.
I need to relinquish control because none of this is actually mine to conduct.
I need to let the pain of my past go away and apply it to the next beauty that comes my way.

For I screwed up.
I was the problem.
I held tight.
Instead of letting myself be guided by the light.

My soul is thirsty and my heart broken.
It seems to be getting better everyday.
I am sorry to say that even Nintendo is not letting me stay happy today.
I need something more and a guiding hand from the One who gave it all.

This world will not do,  especially when it feels I am running from you.
Wondering if they were even ready?
Or if it was completely me?
Because that is my perspective all the way.

Get out.
Get out and leave my head.
Get out and let me raise my hand to thee.
Get out and let me see through eyes that can become clean.

My soul is thirsty and my heart is broken.
Hurting from the possibility that is now lost.
I must look to the Word that was spoken.
For this word is alive and breathing life back into my tired and thirsty soul.

In the end it was short.
But when you believed you have found it…
When you believed your hope was justified.
It hurts like it was a star burning out right before it could be truly bright.

The Good Kind of Greed

“In this life, I’m stubborn to the core. In this life, I’ve been burning after more. We both know what these open arms are for.” ~Switchfoot

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A cheerful expression that answers its own questions.
A simple but diverse point that is being made.
Taking credit for others work,
when all I want to do is hold you close and let the world melt away.

Tell me a story where the point of view is from you.
Talking and making sense.
Breathing and learning.
A dance that circles on itself.

Let live and let die the hope that burns.
For hope is the passion that the heart uses to,
Determine how much I feel like being alive.
Equal parts avarice and self pity.

Tell me the moment when you feel safe.
Unlock the secrets so that I might make you smile.
I hope this finds you well.
I hope this ignites more than emotion.

For emotions do not recite poetry truly.
They are masks placed by your mind over our hearts.
Breathe and let me be an ever guiding lighthouse.
A hold and a touch that tells me that it is okay to be me.