motion and pauses

give way to what you know to be unknowable. there are so many times in our lives that bring us pause. we're shattered by a broken relationship. we're crushed by a death. we're left speechless by an opportunity far beyond what we deserve. whether a great blessing or relentless storm, we are given chances to see how out of control we are.

so what do we do?

i don't really know, but i can't help but picture a child who is in a situation that overwhelms him and he cries to his mother for help. even if his mother has the answer, its likely that the child doesn't understand why that is the answer. still somehow he is comforted by her intercession.

so cry out. pray. see your inability to do anything and take comfort in your Father's presence.

so many things have happened in my life recently that have stopped my movement. they have hurt. they have ignited me with elation. and in the absence of motion, all i could do was talk to God. thank Him. curse at Him. it was all i knew to do. and i'm ok with that being the only thing i did. and i think He was too.

all that to say: i'm thankful for the movement of my life, and for the pauses.

just a quick thought on the end.

earthquakes, tsunamis, and airplanes into buildings make me think that we're nearer to the end than we once thought.

but what if the end of the world is a slow burn?

We've read that armageddon will be horrific, and that when the end of all things comes no one will be able to even describe the destruction, much less endure it. But what if it's not a sudden explosion of terror? What if it's a slow encounter that we can't recognize until we're all gone? If it will be so, I believe we're in a mess far beyond what we first thought.

"what would you do if you knew the world was ending tomorrow?"

we separate the end from the approach to such so definitively, but why? The world is not "going" to end, it's "ending". And I think we should live accordingly. Which probably looks a little different from that which implies that it will all end tomorrow. The time frame changed, but so did the perspective. If we realize that we're on the downward slope of the end, I think our hearts change. We don't live as though we have endless time with which we can do what we please; but neither will we so drastically adjust as though the sands are almost all in the bottom half of the glass. The drastic adjustment lends itself to fear. And why would we do anything out of fear? It's the opposite of love, which we're told to emulate every day. so I say: don't live out of fear, but also don't be lazy and useless. We're ending, lets make the best of what we've got left.

(help)

"Man is a knot into which relationships are tied." -Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Flight to Arras, 1942

start with a quote, james. if you start with a quote you'll establish rapport with your readers. they will perceive you as learned or at the least, well read. then from there you can take to your own writing prowess and convey what you're trying to say.

which is this:

i need you. if i know you, i need you. whoever you are, you have your own qualities and traits that make for part of the solution to the problem of me. there is something about all of us that doesn't equal up. we're all incomplete and can't hope to make any sense on our own. nor can we solve us. as parts of the problem get worked out through our daily lives, we start to see patterns emerge. patterns that speak to what is exactly wrong with us. so over time i think we can be more instrumental in helping to complete the equation. but ultimately, we still need our Professor's help to teach us how to finish it. to finish us. so thus far, i've noticed a pattern of failure when i stand alone. therefore, i won't. if i spent a month with no one but my thoughts, my God and my pen, the end of the journal would start to resemble the scratchings of desperate, somewhat insane, man. i'm convinced of this. so. i need you. and you need me.

someone once asked me when i play shows, if i preferred playing with a band or playing solo. my response was something like: "i like being able to mess up when i'm playing alone, because it's a little easier to make it seem like i didn't, and convince the crowd that's what i meant to do. but i do like the feeling of power that can only emanate from a stage full of musicians playing different parts of the same song." so in my indecisive answer i found a truth thats applicable here. on my own, i can mess up and make it seem like i'm not messing up. and i've gotten pretty good at convincing you that i don't mess up. but i still know that i did. it's easier than trying to make an ensemble of people make a beautiful song. that takes more practice and compromise and synchronized passion. it's not easy living with others. you have to expose what you love to hide. there's a song that's written and when you're practicing with your closest friends and family, and you mess up, you have to stop and find some way of not doing it again. you don't just get to change the song on the fly and convince everyone that that was how it always was.

our song is written. but our problem still exists. i don't want to find ways of changing what is already a perfect song to deny my inability to play it well. that problem must be solved. and it must be solved with you.

and you.

and you...

a song's beginnings...

dear mama, here is where i can watch the sun line move
as slow as today is is as slow as i am breathing
gripped by the future as it becomes the now
i'm on my seat's edge waiting for a free feeling

come and capture my tilted head
make me believe every word you ever said
while i wonder what all your sounds mean
i'll stick around 'cause i can't escape your being

my dear, can i stare in your eyes for another minute?
its amazing what you can't feel when you're numbed
so as the Surgeon uses his tools to fix whats wrong
i'll just sit here with you, my Anesthesia, succumbed

come and capture my tilted head
make me believe every word you ever said
while i wonder what all your sounds mean
i'll stick around 'cause i can't escape your being

my son, run towards the light on the horizon
for fast goes the day you are alive and breathing
just let the wheat lay where it fell on the ground
and leave our home to chase a girl that loves you being

come and capture my tilted head
make me believe every word you ever said
while i wonder what all your sounds mean
i'll stick around 'cause i can't escape your being

two days by any standard

a weekend gone awry gives one pause to question what it is they're doing with themselves. with their life. a week gone wrong is quickly quelled by the hope of a weekend. how in the hell do we put so much emphasis on our weekends? why are two days so important to us? i have some ideas...

let's assume that hope's existence is an anesthetic. we're in pain. things around us are hard. so we cling to a thing that numbs it, even if only for a moment. we hold onto to hope so that wherever we are presently doesn't feel so tumultuous. hope implies a forward motion thought process. we imagine how it will be good... one day. how things will soon get better. i'm convinced this is one of the biggest reasons humanity has made it this far. but now the question is what are we hoping for? or towards?

some hope for restoration.

some hope for peace.

some for calm and some for success.

some hope for accomplishment.

and some hope for redemption.

we all hope for something. without hope we have no reason to believe that the "now" is worth anything. if there's nothing that all of this is leading to, then who cares? about anything? whatever the case may be, whether you're hoping for a break on your taxes this year so you can get a little further out of the debt drowning pool, or you're hoping for your life to leave a legacy, whether its a longterm or a short term, chances are, you're hoping for something.

now, lets think about how that can be tangibled. (yes. i made up a word, because terms like "fleshed out" and "given skin" weird me out... thanks e.c.h.) my generation is full of people who only think about today. we don't like to make plans because if we make a plan, there's a chance something can fail and thus, we'll feel like failures. so we live here and now. which sounds very romantic. almost... hip... none of us want to even entertain the possibility of failure. so if we don't make any plans, they can't fail, and we can't fail. we will succeed at everything we do because we're always just doing what we decided to do two minutes ago. this kind of thinking, i'm finding, is pretty dangerous. even as a christian it sounds good to not make plans, because "God has it under control and will do what he wills." which isn't untrue, and i'm not about to get into a debate about Calvinism, but that is one of the shittiest cop outs i've ever heard. whether or not you're a christian, if you're saying that you won't make plans due to your lack of influence in their outcome, you're basically just saying, i'm scared. which is no way to live. so with that being the frame in which a lot of our mind's pictures are hanging, it stands to reason that short term is "good term" for us. "if i can just make it to the end of the month...", "if I can just get through this week...", "i can't wait for this day to be over..."

enter the weekend.

we live so short term that our biggest hopes lie in the closest "end" in sight. how did we ever get so weak? how did we ever become so wrapped up in the thought that we have no ability to make it through an entire year, much less a week? we're still averaging about 80 years of life on this earth, and somehow we don't allow ourselves to think past Sunday.

i remember when i was in middle school, lying in my bed on a Sunday night feeling sick to my stomach and terrified that i had to go back to school the next morning. no other night was as scary as Sunday night. now that i'm 27, the coin has just turned over: no other night is as exciting as Friday night. walking away from my office to my car on a Friday night is one of the best feelings i get in a normal week.

again... i'm 27.

i'm no longer in middle school.

i'm pretty ready to grow up. i look at my dad and see his focus on things that i can't even imagine being able to pick up in a telescope, much less see with my bare eyes and then focus on. he for his entire adult life has looked at a point in the future that is full of hope. i imagine in the first few years of looking towards it he couldn't make out its shape. he may have not even been able to see it distinguished from any other object on the horizon. just another part of a huge blurry line across the sky. but he looked at it. and moved towards it. he hoped that what he was seeing was an end that was worthy of laying down and resting in. now in his 50's i assume the point on the horizon is a little clearer, and his hope is strengthened by all the years behind him that were full of faith. faith that allowed his eyes to adjust because it pushed him closer to that point on the horizon.

we're low on faith my friends. we know there's something on the horizon we should be looking at, but we're scared its the wrong thing. or not even a thing at all. so to cope with the fear or to maybe forget it, we shift our focus to Saturday and Sunday. we can see those clearly. they don't frighten us, but rather give us a "hope" that we can feel Monday to Friday.

its a sick drug.

i write this to say that i'm tired of looking to two days to fulfill my need for a hope answered. to be clear, i believe we're given seasons of rest on the long journey of our lives. Sabbaths. but the Sabbath isn't the end. it's a reminder that the end is coming and has more rest for us than we could imagine. our hope, whatever it may be in, shouldn't be so short lived that we're back to feeling sick to our stomachs on Sunday nights. rather, our hope should push us through every single Sunday night, and Tuesday afternoon, and every year and decade until we get to that point on the horizon. it may be blurry right now, but let faith push you, because if we don't, we're never going to get closer. we'll just keep living for the... well, you can insert your favorite 80's hit by Loverboy here.

Death Becomes Her

In an attempt to address all the adversity around us, I compose.

"Merry Christmas" doesn't ring with silver bells all the time. The year turning new isn't always happy. Seasons of joy seem to be peppered with suffering.

This is where we live.

This is how we are.

This is how it is.

"God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world."
-CS Lewis, The Problem of Pain

Why would we ever want to cease to be roused? If we are indeed deaf and sitting in a wallow of our own filth, but can see outside of it a world of clean splendor, then why would we ever choose to stay and not be drawn out of it? It doesn't make any sense.

Until we figure out what brings us out:

pain.

Who wants to be hurt? Who wants to not feel comfort or happiness? Thus, the paradox of our faith.

Jesus separated himself from his heavenly throne, from his Father, and from his Glory to take on the greatest pain, so we have no footing to stand on that will allow us to shake a fist at God for the hurt we feel. Still we do and still he allows it, but once the dust of anger settles we see where we are and where He is and we put our fists down.

If you are in the community of believers, hold the ones around you. Notice them. Ask them about things. We don't have any other source by which to maintain our sanity. We are the church. The most coveted bride. She has scars and beauty marks all the same, and is becoming in a gown of bandages. She is us and we are her.

Friends, if you're content with life, get ready for a storm to come soon. If you're not content, take heart that God is rousing you. If you are apathetic or unaware, I pray that God screams at you and you hear. I pray this for myself.

musicful lyrics

when ever i listen to Bright Eyes my resolve to write a musically simple song grows exponentially. this is the outcome of a ride home blasting the "Lifted" album. thanks Conor. (recorded version soon to be posted somewhere on the World Wide Web)

there's a lighthouse by the shore

beckoning to keep us yore

the flashing light could tell a tale

of the one's that came before

that came before

there's a house that stands alone

on the road where we were shown

there's a hobo by the door

beckoning to keep us yore

to keep us yore

every little word that comes from

every little thought

all wrapped up into a perfect

needle through my heart

fairer skin has never tasted

as sour to my tongue

but how do i want this

and what do i do with you?

things are helping keep me numb

but my brains a little dumb

chemicals that quell the thoughts

of returning to your arms

to your arms

but all that wins is dreams of us just

layin' head to head

whispering "i love you darlin'"

bundled in my bed

escaping all the world's sorrows

for moments just like this

but then i wake up

and what do i do with you?

with you?..

there's a car that's parked outside

beggin' us to take a ride

there's the keys right by the door

of the place where we grew up

we grew up

musicless lyrics

Here’s fourteen days to look

You’ve got your time so keep it

But remember your papa shook

The world into its place

Just where it was supposed to be

And I see a million faces

Running to a hundred places

How’s it ever gonna fit

If it’ll never make any sense?

My day is a year

And My year is a day

Goodness fleets soon as it’s near

Clearly someone’s gotta pay

Just like it’s supposed to be

And I see a million faces

Running to a hundred places

How’s it ever gonna fit

If it’ll never make any sense?

Help isn’t coming soon

It’s already here

Stop looking to the moon

I’ve already been made clear

Just like I’m supposed to be

And we are a million faces

Running to a hundred places

It’s just gonna have to fit

Faith might never make any sense…

But that’s how it’s supposed to be.

a note from the observer...

i watched an amazing film last night highlighting the poverty in Guatemala City. surrounded by CEO's, Peace Corps volunteers, and socialites drinking my free Dos XX with lime (and a Sweet Leaf & vodka) i was the observer. i watched girls giggle about their new Gucci bags, listened to my generation's hippies talk about their trips to Africa, and was infiltrated by a film about a single mother of 5 who worked daily in a garbage dump that stores 1/3 of the earth's garbage.

that's right.

1/3 of the EARTH's garbage.

there was one moment in the film that hit me like Mike Tyson: a few short seconds of footage showing a woman who was working tirelessly to bring children out of the cyclical poverty they were trapped in. they called her Hanley. just a few seconds i saw her laugh, play with children and mess up her message into the camera with laughter. then a few more seconds of testimonials of how amazing she was. then a moment, "Hanley's car was hit head on by a bus in 2007." how little i knew of this woman. mere seconds of who she was, seeing her soul and love in her life so briefly. but when i heard she died, i cried. it was devastating. not only was that a true testament to how good this film was, but through the remainder of the film, hope was brought back into the picture by the lives she touched around her. and we saw that in this short film. in this beautiful piece of art. some of the people who Hanley touched took over her mission:

Safe Passage

Pay attention to what is happening in Guatemala.

i'm proud to say that the guys of One Spark Films are my friends. they have amazing hearts for people and an unhindered talent to bring the less fortunate to the forefront. follow them. watch their films. support their efforts.

One Spark Films

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On Twitter: @onesparkfilms

11-11 on 11-12

So I was supposed to do this yesterday, but better late than never:

11-11
11 Things about me in random fashion

1. I have a completely irrational, but very real fear of driving next to semi trucks with my windows down because I think the tire may blow out and come into my window and kill me. I have seen the Mythbusters on the subject and it was “Busted”, but I’m still terrified.

2. I’m hairy. And I hate it. I feel self conscious about it. One of many reasons I’m a “winter” man and not a “summer” man. Despite the name.

3. The first time I ever played drums was in 4th grade and it was in the newly started church Children’s Orchestra. We only played one song, and I think it was about Mary, but that’s all I can really remember. It could have been about the one with the lamb, or the one with the Jesus. I don’t know.

4. One of my biggest pet peeves is people using the word “literally” like it’s the only word in the English language that adds emphasis to a phrase. If you’re not using the word for what it means, stop it. Seriously. Or I will literally shit a brick. (prime example of how not to use it unless you want me to punch you.) Also, I hate it when girls call me "man" or "dude". It's weird and it makes me feel uncomfortable.

5. My parents didn’t ever take video of me as a child (it was the 80’s and video recording equipment was for people who ate caviar and drove Rolls Royce’s) but they did take quite a few pictures of me. There is a box of photos in their attic full of pictures of me and my brothers. I tell you this to lead into this stat: 68% of all those photos of me are naked.

6. Last year I got bronchitis and was laid up in my house for 8 straight days. Once I ran out of movies I wanted to watch, I started watching Lost to see what all the hub-bub was about. After 3 episodes I was officially addicted. Over the course of the next 8 days, I watched Seasons 1, 2, 3 and caught up to the current episode of Season 4. You may not realize how much Lost that is, but the only other thing I did besides watch the show was sleep. Seriously. It’s the ONLY thing I did for 8 days. And when it was over and I was healed, I shaved my head because I wanted to be like Dr. Jack. Also not kidding. I seriously did that.

7. I have a higher than average amount of patience, but there are some people that really bug the hell out of me. Like the lady that sits next to me at work. She has so many annoying quirks. I won’t try and list them, because it’s too much, and also, you wouldn’t be able to appreciate the annoying-ness of them via blog.

8. I was off work yesterday for Veteran’s Day and made a breakfast for myself that I’m now going to tell you about. A delicious 2-egg sandwich on toast with lettuce, tomato, mayo, cayenne pepper sauce, and bacon, along with a bowl of granola (or bowlnola), a glass of chilled filtered water and a Granny Smith apple. It was amazing. I love making breakfast food. And eating it.

9. Kara “challenged” me to do this list thing and she lives in Philadelphia, PA. I miss her a lot.

10. I’ve had 4 major head injuries, one of which scalped me. I had 8 staples in my head for a few weeks. I also have dealt with depression in the past (and still a little) and my doctor told me it’s highly likely that those are connected. Apparently so much trauma has happened to my head, that it was “re-wired”. Something else my head injuries did was give me two weird growths on my ears. I believe it’s called “cauliflower ear”. Wiki that shiz.

11. I always look at the clock when it’s 12:34. Seriously. Noon and midnight. It happens so often that I feel extremely weirded out by it. Like maybe something huge is going to happen to me at 12:34 someday. And this is just times way of “counting up” to it. My own personal Armageddon. Jamesageddon.