Signs, Confusion and Forever

I confess, I’ve been known to take a shortcut or two. Time is a precious commodity in my life. Somehow, I’m convinced that I have less of it than most people, so occasionally, I improvise. Usually, it gets the job done so I don’t sweat the small stuff.

Still, there are suggested uses provided by manufacturers for a reason. This becomes apparent when I grab my favorite sweater out of the dryer only to realize it now needs to be passed down to an 8-year-old since it was intended to dry flat. Just like that, it’s gone.


I must also confess that I’ve never taken the time to figure those dumb laundry labels out. When I do take the time to read the label, I’m greeted with Pictionary instead of language. I know I could easily look up their meanings, but ‘ain’t nobody got time for that’. So I guess and just wing it. It’s usually just fine, but not always…

But maybe the world operates on symbols and not just words. I get it in some cases. Road signs could become very tedious if we clearly spelled out the meaning on everyone. How many accidents would be blamed on “I was trying to read the sign”? Some things you just have to make an effort to learn. sign

I haven’t decided which category marriage falls into yet. Sometimes I find myself trying to decode the symbols and I just know I’m shrinking a sweater. I wish we could just find a way to clearly spell it all out so there would never be any confusion. Yet, there’s a lot of wisdom in NOT saying everything that pops into your head in the heat of argument. 

So maybe it’s just part of the adventure. There’s an art to marital communication. It’s a blend of language and charades, verbal and non-verbal, argue and make up.

Sure, I’m going to mess up A LOT, but you better believe I’m going to keep trying. I may be far from perfect, but forever is always worth the effort.

O Ye Stubborn Masses

I come from a long line of stubborn women. I too, am stubborn and opinionated. It’s just a fact, plain and simple. It can be a gift. I will not quickly bow to the fanciful voices of other gods vying for my attention. I firmly stand in the face of opposition with confident composure believing wholly in my cause. I am a woman of great faith. But like any great strength, once overextended it can be an area of weakness.

There are two areas in particular that come to mind where this is the case. One, when the stubborn individual is just flat out wrong. I don’t mean in cases that are subjective either. Have you ever met someone who is holding firmly to something without foundation, baseless and formless? They try so hard to stand on the vapor and can’t imagine why anyone would proffer the suggestion that it may not support their weight. They’re falling, yet every attempt to catch them only leads to more insistence that they are just fine and dandy. The rest of the world is forced to watch, helpless, as they crash. It’s so frustrating and often leads to the second area where stubbornness can be a problem, when two stubborn people face off.

The stubborn face off can occur when one stubborn individual confronts another stubborn individual on matters of principle. Both equally passionate parties will live and die for their ideal. Neither will yield or compromise. Neither will even entertain the notion that the other party may have even the slightest bit of sense behind their argument. So they lock in and stand off. Most of the time, both have an element of rightness on their sides. Sometimes the argument is beyond pointless and doesn’t matter at all in the grand scheme of things. The wise man, in such a case, would agree to disagree and walk away, but we’re not always wise are we? I vividly remember arguing with my brother for days when we were younger because he insisted that the sky was never blue, it was in fact purple. It seemed a noble cause at the time.

Other times, the argument is of vast importance. In situations like that, shots are fired, wars are fought, governments are shutdown…okay I’m not going there.

To the stubborn individual, rightness is a necessity. I know one stubborn person (who I am in a stubborn face off of sorts with at present) who will idly throw out a remark and the run before I can respond. It irks me and makes me laugh at the same time.

The truth is, I’ve decided that sometimes peace is better than rightness. Though I would be tempted to fight the battle to the end and slay the demons that I deem to be clouding the truth in another person’s mind, if I know the battle will not lead to healing, the fight will lead to deeper cuts in an already wounded soul, then the most loving thing I can do is to remain silent. Sometimes words I offer with the best of intentions, fall on deaf ears and further divide the heart of this person who I long to see live free. It is then, that I, the stubborn one, must learn to love instead of lead. I often need to learn to bind up what’s been broken instead of proving truth to a heart not ready to hear. This is not an easy thing.

Do I possess enough love for another that I can surrender my sword of correctness to offer support when the vapor isn’t going to hold? Maybe I can even come underneath the falling soul and break their fall with kindness and mercy. Maybe that is what Christ did for us. When we were blinded by our own agendas and sin, Christ loved us enough to be crushed, bruised, beaten and scarred. Then he rose victorious, taking with him the keys to all the things that could come against us. He held captivity captive and freed us from the prison of…us. He, the only one who was actually right all of the time, was willing to die, not to prove himself right, but so we could be right before the Father.

I would venture to guess, eventually we will all realize that we don’t know nearly as much as we think we do.



In Light of Argument

Brush back the tears I thought had dried

Slowly bound by in between

Is there a riddle to things behind unlocking the scars in me?

Tonight I’m yarn knotted to nonsense, twisted aimlessly behind the noise that screams behind your eyes


A promise I believe will hold me pounding steady rhythms on my aching feet

Foundation to calm the poisons from my past that sneak up to persuade me to believe the lie again

I am the constant variable

You are not dependent on the stagger of my wasted emotion


Then your lips press to close tightly like a vice that seeks to express the air from these, my infant lungs

The hose that feeds me sustenance pinched before you and I’m not sure you even notice


I’ll wake tomorrow and see that it was all a dream

My heart will lift with the sweetness and calm of morning

But tonight, I’ll exchange the tears that attempt to fall for the letters joined in sequence on this page.

Maybe that’s enough…