Time in a bottle

If time really were in a bottle, I would drink deeply.

I don’t always know who I am

But I’m me in this moment

So sound the alarms and ring the bells because I’m present

And maybe I’m the me I thought I was yesterday

Or maybe life is okay when it’s half-lived and the night is blocked by the sun

And life is great when the sun shines

But no one promised us a rose garden (quote the old author)

But life is greater when you know who you are and where you stand and when enough is enough or there’s light on the horizon, peaking.

I don’t back down! I never have and I don’t plan on changing.

So bring the dusk or the dawn but watch me rise! Because I always RISE!

Me

I think I was me once, when nothing else interrupted the light.

I could call out and hear the echo of tomorrow, regardless, the darkness that threatened.

But I think I forgot

What does it mean to hold a candle and illuminate the shadow?

Am I here in the midst?

Am I breathing?

I guess we will know tomorrow.

And even if we don’t, I’ll get up and start again

Because that’s what it means to fight!

The embrace of every day

The inbounding hope that fills the gap between dark and dawn

We get up and go again and hope the light can find us when we’ve lost our way.

So step forward, one tentative step at a time

And keep going

One foot, then another.

Tomorrow brings no promise of light and life but it’s what we have.

So push through the breech and find your strength dear friend.

Tomorrow is worth the fight!

Segmentation

I think I may live in segments. Moments between where the great is and where it was and who I am now and who I used to be.

Segmented arthropods or a life once lived draped in shadow. And I’m okay this way…maybe…

I stare at the moon.

I stare at the memory.

I stare at life.

And I’m breathing

Wondering what that means anymore.

But my voice is strong and so I stare and yell to the void

Maybe that’s enough.

Maybe not.

Time will tell.

There is rhythm

There is is rhythm and life to who we are and what we expect and all the things we leave unsaid.

It pulses in the background until the smallest thing becomes the biggest in the room

Sing into the night, melodies, only you can hear’

When the moments of peace give way to tsunami.

But love can conquer all if we let it.

Find the counterpoint and disrupt the rhythm.

Be brave

Be strong

Or fall apart for a minute and pick up the pieces.

Be you

Cry, if you must.

Scream, if you must.

Then walk forward.

Don’t be silent

But don’t let the need to be heard consume you.

Just keep walking.

This is life.

This is real.

This is fabric knit together to make us more.

Don’t miss out because all you see is, “the thing”

And don’t miss out because you are too afraid to find your voice.

Be real. Be raw. Be you!!!!!

And forget the crowd that may not approve.

Find yourself in the author of life.

Walk in the discovery because THAT is everything!

Who are we to claim the stars when the earth crumbles around us?

Human, and breathing, and grasping for eternity in the midst…we flail and fall and try again and get up

Because we are breathing and, despite the broken, we find light.

And if light isn’t enough, we claw at the darkness and rise again in the morning

And that, is life…

The rising and falling of tides and moonlight

Don’t dream of a world without pain.

Dream of a world with resilience.

The latter is so much more important!

Find yourself in the beginning of tomorrow instead of the end of yesterday

And maybe that’s enough.

The stuff that brings the “real” and the “raw”

And find yourself devoted to being real.

Find yourself devoted to who you are in Christ and who you are in the midst of the the hurt.

We cannot be salt and light without being willing to “cure’ and wade through the dim.

Don’t expect “easy”, expect “ hard” and be willing to walk through it to the other side.

Why we think we’re exempt is beyond me.

You are meant to be light! So SHINE!!!

Rainbows and shadows

I sit in spaces, lost between the worlds

Who I am, and who I should be

Breaking, with the glimmer of light.

And I can be so broken…I should be

But I’m not

I’m stronger than the wind, because it passes while I remain

So I stare at rainbows

Reminders in the sky of what can be, when sun and rain collide

That maybe, where my trauma and truth collide, there can be beauty

And I can be a reminder.

Choose to be bigger

Don’t let the sun dim to fade

Shine!

You were made for more! And so was I

In the still, find breath and breathe.

It’s enough; I promise!

On falling and getting up

If I’m going to fall, can I please fall hard and hit my head?

Can there be concussion and bruising so I don’t look like a fool?

Can I rest in the “okay-ness” of my weakness?

If I do, do I have to wait for a diagnosis?

Fallen, in need of grace?

Can’t we just be human?

Wake up sleepers

Wake up church!

In the land of the living, an anchor holds

And we get to reveal it and show it to the masses

That’s enough

Love is enough

We can kick and claw and scream at the wind

We can cry behind closed doors

But we can’t stop reaching

For real love!

THAT is the anchor

Nails and thorns and mercy on a cross

And death giving way to victory

Who are you?

Who does He say I am?

Where is victory?

Can you see it today?

If not, look again.

It’s worth fighting for!

Time…in a bottle…or not…

Time is a funny thing.

It flies

It pauses

It groans for tomorrow

It longs for yesterday

It moves

In waves

While the world continues, as it seemingly stops for some

But it is.

Time is

And we grovel at it’s feet

And we wonder where the break pedal is

And we clasp onto what we can hold

And we long for bricks to put on top our children’s heads to stop the growth

All the while praying they will grow, healthy and strong, and prepared for tomorrow

I watch you grow and I beg for it to stop and continue while I sit like an Alanis Morissette lyric, contracting truths against each other.

And we grow and move

And live and have our being in the moment

Sweaters on backward and inside out and all

Until we feel the most of a new day

And breathe

Deep

Because today is wrapped in tomorrow and yesterday at once

And I am you and you are me together, bracing for the impact

Life is more than we see

Life is wrapped in the endless toil of a day well lived, and a tomorrow, begging for something

Whatever that may be

My tomorrow is different from yours

But it’s the same

The hand of God, making meaning, while we go

And that’s enough

At the end of the day, it’s enough

Forward motion makes for meaning

So RUN!

Then look at yesterday and today and smile

Knowing tomorrow is breath

And we’re all running

In the Morning …Running with what you’ve got

So, my mornings are always morning before morning should be allowed

I’m not a morning person…working on this…

But in anticipation of tomorrow, I plan.

I pack lunchboxes and clean and lie clean clothes on racks and hooks, and find shoes lost by minions (small people I’m charged to raise)

But, unfortunately, sometimes I dread the day ahead.

I’m not proud of it.

And I think if His mercies new every morning and the blessing of parenthood and employment and a life well lived.

But in reality, I go to bed knowing my alarm will sound the horror bell of having to wake up when I want to sleep.

Still, there’s a blessing when the coffee and the day kick in.

When sunlight brings possibilities that I haven’t imagined.

So I ride before the sun and do it again and again.

This life doesn’t have to be brilliant or awesome in the light of day but it has to continue to bring meaning.

So today leads to tomorrow and every moment, even the mundane, leads to greatness.

Will I be remembered for the lunches I pack and the jokes I wrote in sharpie on ziplock? Probably not. But will I be remembered for my perseverance and strength? I hope so.

Wake up tomorrow and do it again.

Just go!

One foot in front of the next, in excellence. It’s all anyone can ask and it’s more than enough.

Two cents from the routine.

Two cents to manufacture a million. Just RUN!

Glorious

What makes glorious life?

When pen and plight, too numb, collide

What beauty permeates stone?

Till I, in He, resound alone.

We talk, so often of death and pain

Yet forget the living

And here I stand with arms, waiting for direction, aiming for the target I cannot see

Or maybe I can…

Or maybe I am hesitant to step, without seeing where my feet will land

Either way, pen in hand, write my story.

I’ll go