the confining christian life. the wires and the pruning. the relentless discipline to become a miracle of sorts. a seemingly impossible spot of shade and shelter in an undisciplined world. could anyone look at me and see a towering tree in miniature? i wonder. we visit another church. ever since we stopped trying to start
and it’s one of those days. wind and yellow curtains blowing cool right into the dining room. you know the ones. a day. what would you like to do while the sun shines? go outside and read your bible. stay inside and sweep the floor. study for a test. read someone else’s life. you’ve got
these summer days are being sewn together. the thread of time pulling days side by side and making a patchwork quilt of life. i hope it covers you, child. i want light to leak from our pockets every minute. i want to look at your face and feel sweet freedom from responsibility. i want to
i had a dream. every so often the god of the universe will talk to me in dreams. what’s up with that? when i think that god has better things to do than be concerned with the intimate details of my life, i reduce him to the level of human ability. god is big enough
recently ideas have been promising light. less time online. goodness and mercy hunting me down. slowing down long enough so that god can actually give good things instead of procuring them for myself. these ideas seem to be sending the light by which i can see other things. peace, justice, joy. but they’re only ideas.
“my idea of god is not a divine idea. it has to be shattered time after time. he shatters it himself. he is the great iconoclast. could we almost say that this shattering is one of the marks of his presence? the incarnation is the supreme example, it leaves all previous ideas of the messiah
i like to say that when i got high for the first time, i was solved. i was up north and sitting around with people older than me, who knew better, but didn’t care. we passed around dented beer cans and wore ripped jeans. i sat back on a stranger’s sofa and i was solved.
we climbed stone steps and dumped quarters in a locker. we found parking on the street. we brought our children to see the things of the deep. the unseen things. and maybe that’s a little bit like those that i love? the aquarium people who walk around glass tanks letting the things of the deep
“it would seem that our lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. we are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant
when we traveled into the night to come and visit his mother, i prepared for trouble. she and i struggled to understand each other and we both knew it should be easier. there were smiles and hugs and meals. time itself helped. but there was one thing that spoke loudest to my frowning heart. i’ve