shouts of joy

Don't you know we want to laugh We want to laugh from our bellies till we cry. We also want to cry, Cry so hard together that our tears become a single stream. Do you know that we want to ask questions Asking questions to understand the words that were never said. Did you know our dreams make a braid of bright, bold, and daring Tightly woven into a contagious flu? We want to embrace for no reason and every reason.  We want to talk about anything and nothing. Didn't you know we want to ache, We want to know loss and emptiness Because we want to also know joy in full. Did you know we want to make noise, go out with a bang, But we want to be still and hear the beating of our own drum. What we need and what we want we don't know,  But we know we are creatures craving contradiction. 

A stranger, except for his stance and eyes reflecting in my rear view mirror red, blue and white flashing lights, a beating in my chest and there were so many red flags.  A sight so faint, familiar in a dream still reality in my veins recirculating like used library books ancient and neglected  a system of routine We're kids hide-n-seeking for fun love waiting for that affirmedness who will ride a roller coaster  over every bump in the seat eating pop rocks that make us laugh But we're adults trying to fit the mold desiring complexity, mystery, proficiency selfish promises and so many words explaining nothing and something with mere hope for approval One glance at a stranger  clear eyes of promises broken uncertain his stance   fixed in a rearview mirror  is enough. 

Faults, fears, ignorances, betrayals, selfish pleasures, anxieties, transgressions and the list is inescapable ... ... what if, for just a moment, we dismissed those minimalistic thoughts and return to the much grander Truth, that we are but a small gap in the whole, however we have the ability to fill our gap with a Light, revealing the Eternal Truth. So we go with our own consecrated efforts to do just that. There is no right or wrong efforts, because the Light that we have grown to love will show us the Way to Truth and Life. Lord, hear my prayer, in this season that has become more about me than You. My heart is heavy. Remind me of my smallness in flesh, and of Your grandness anchored within me. Daily You are present and I have never been abandoned, even when I cried out for relationship. Thank You for never leaving. You have called me to prepare the way and promise to love and comfort me, renewing my strength when I am weak. Again and again You have proven that to me when I...

The other day, I took a bus from Pasco, WA to Portland, OR. Being the person I am, I marched up the steps of the bus with my backpack slung over my shoulder and tossed it in a vacant seat without any reservations. I listened to conversations around me as we waited for others to board and found them entertaining. But when we finally rolled away from the station my nerves began to escalate so I tried to sleep. Sleeping didn’t last too long and I began planning my next move if our bus was attacked. If a shooter was on board what I might do, or if the bus driver took a wrong turn down a dark alley, or if someone tried to take my bag. While I calculated my moves I played it cool by playing around on my phone and reading a book. With my hidden fear I sat quite alert for the rest of the 5 hour trip. Busses just aren’t the best form of public transportation these days. The common person flies, the more adventurous common person takes a train, and anyone else who can’t afford the alternati...

She swung the door to my classroom open, as if it were her bedroom and then let it slam behind her. "Hey, can I sit in here and work on things?" Slightly confused by her abrupt, rather authoritative demeanor and immediate action to plop on the futon in the corner, I replied as cool as possible, "Sure." "Also, could I listen to music? Mr. S lets me, so you wouldn't be the only one."  As she began to pull out her phone and ear buds, I quickly reminded her of the school policy that still applies in my classroom: no phones, ipods or other electronic devices to be used on campus without permission. She didn't roll her eyes as far back as I'd seen before, from somewhere she had picked up my vibes and I felt a mutual respect. "Well, I guess I'll just read," was her next response. "Great," I answered, "'cause I just sat down to do some blogging." Since it was my prep period and my heart had been heavy with some pre...

I want to understand the power in silence then my gushing river of words might instead refresh like a gentle stream I want to understand your faith then my faith that I claim is strong enough to move mountains might instead be felt through our embrace I want to understand sacrifice then my obsession with the figure in the mirror might instead reflect deep truth in the words, "I care" I want to understand trust then the past that I've worn like old prescriptions might instead be replaced so I can focus ahead I want to understand that understanding has it's own limit then my understanding that is incomplete might instead wait with fervor for a Completeness I want to understand that until that Completeness then I must commit to do three things: trust steadily, hope unswervingly, and love extravagantly

when did the sun fade? and these clouds that have settled, from where do they stretch? when once the life was green and vibrant trees tall and strong now they droop and weep closing in on this frozen ground filtering through a scale of gray if I could box this up and send it off i would send it to the north pole where I believe it belongs the only thing I can box are a few personal items my thoughts are not those they aren't my own but if I could box them I would categorize and organize alphabetize and synchronize I would box them and send them to the north pole far away I would send them so the riddles wouldn't rattle at night and rock my body to wake stealing such sweet dreams without asking stealing what's mine and replacing with fear oh, how I wish I could box them I would label and address them and send them to the north pole oh, how I'd like to transport this grief and vexation pack it and ship it bury what is rotten and pluc...

Each passing week seems like an entire year's worth of ripening. The fragile shell is aggravated by the harsh elements and is broken, torn, burned, pulled and pinched. Even so, beyond the fragile shell stands a barrier of protective muscle that fights against each affliction. Through the open wounds seeps fear and is carried to the power house, the life-source, the heart. It's there where fear is circulated and processed through each valve and ventricle and depleted of the waste to pump back out with intense power to refuel the shell with zeal and passion to continue protecting and ripening that which is most important. The heart. My heart hasn't failed me yet and am I ever so grateful. Yet it's endearing whisper is often times hushed by the combative shell surrounding it, denying it's childlike spirit, jokes and games, beauty, and zeal for life and love. Keep flowing heart. One day your shell will ripen and gush with sweet juices from the labor of your loving end...

My 6th graders are work quite diligently right now, which I'm very impressed with, on research papers on a possible future career they've so willingly chosen. The career research paper idea was generated from a conversation I had at the gym one morning with a former principal. That meeting in and of itself would produce quite a lengthy report. There's a lot on my mind right now as I watch them write quietly. They're good writers. They're deep thinkers, many of them. They're overflowing with revolutionary ideas. They have so much potential and I sit here in silence dreaming of what they will do one day that will make the world a super place. It's already week 9 of my student teaching. Sometimes, it seems like these 9 weeks have felt more like the slow defrosting of a wintery wonderland, but on bright days like today I don't mind the wintery wonderland and I'm not ready for the next season. This morning I felt inspired to show my kids this video. A...

Letters, blocks, and colors whirl around in intense chaos with an anorexic chance of any order. My vision is distorted in a dark place as the clutter continues to swarm and buzz. The buzzing gets louder and the swarming much faster, until the small of my mind urges the rest of it to escape the dream that seems to indulge on my weak and fatigued state. I can't remember when this dream first began to take over my peaceful nights of sleep causing my heart to race, my forehead to perspire and severe anxiety to settle in and hunker down until morning. In this too familiar and exhausting mirage of numbers, letters, shapes and colors I exhaust myself more in a running attempt to solve this puzzle and make order of its zooming pieces. Re-occuring dreams have meaning, I hear, but this dream has crossed over from engulfing my peaceful night sleep to shading me from the days warm sunshine. I'm not convinced of its meaning, but I am certain of the fatigue of failing to reach the pieces...