shouts of joy

It's easier to look back right now. I look back and see an open door full of opportunity, sorta like the one I see right now. But looking back it was easier then. The view isn't full of overwhelm, but it looks more like freedom. It was a beautiful frame of broken pieces being liberated. She didn't know that then. But now, looking back ... that was easy ... easier than what's ahead. People tell me that my anxiety about the future beyond next week is related to maturity, "When you're my age you'll see it differently." "It changes when you turn 30." "Don't worry, it gets better." (what?) Okay, so if you're right, if it is maturity, what am I suppose to do for the next four years? And shouldn't their be some kind of progress? And why does the idea of anything beyond the next couple of weeks make me want to run far away toward solace? If it is maturity, wouldn't you expect to see some "maturing" from age ...

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...

I am loving teaching girls PE this final semester. Mostly because I always wished I'd had a safe place to experiment with and practice being kind to my body. I wished I had a safe place where I hadn't felt stared at and compared to. I love our girl conversations about femininity and modesty. I wish someone had told me in high school about modesty, how modesty doesn't limit your wardrobe, but gives a girl a beautiful backbone to stand tall instead of lowering herself to the desires of others. I wish we'd sat down in a circle where peers and teachers identified and encouraged our strengths, and told us that we might be tempted to seek our strengths from the love of boys, when we deserve to believe in and trust ourselves. I wished we'd had a place where it was safe to talk about our weaknesses. Where it was cool to be yourself, because after all it is in our weaknesses that the Water of Life runs deep. I wished someone sat me down and told me what heartbreak was like, ...

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...

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...