10/30/02

I want to have a moment every day, a moment that makes each day valuable, that makes it real. I may have an unrealistic expectation of my days but that is only in your world. This inner hum is a gift, though it is all but impossible to comprehend the true value of this gift, I will try, and in so doing try to nurture this gift, filling space and time as it is.

11/13/01

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know there is no difference.

2000-2001 Part 6

The
At least the boulder is round
The pound of my heart
To the top, my feet stabbing steps
Pain, Fight, To the top
Success, (I'm there) Height, Where is the feeling? The end?
The boulder is round, it rolls.
Angst, Weight, The rock rolls up.
The Weight of the world I feel, I roll.
Again, Again, Where is my Savior?
I look up from my feet, weird
That's strange, I'm rolling a rock up a hill.
My Laughter, like never before
They are all rolling stones, watching them roll.
Some hear, I hear (other) laughter, see eyes to mine.
Weight still, but hilarity now.
Only those who Know Weight, Joy yet, there are choices of stones
I choose the biggest and laugh as it rolls over me ..

2000-2001 Part 5

My God what have you done to us.
I know you made me strong enough but for why?

2000-2001 Part 4

You cannot hurt me with those cotton sheets, but silk's unabashed glow, that does.
I'm no fan of the sliding door,
I want the anxiety of the push or pull after the clockwise or counterclockwise turn of the knob.

2000-2001 Part3

Our cat does a strange thing, It will leave a dead bird on the back step every so often. We feed it on a regular basis, my dad sometimes fumes at them for their choice of locale, and then the cat presents an offering. Do we demand worship? My ideal vision of God is one whom is not impressed or swayed with pettiness. Maturity is not independence, though. Awareness of the paradoxical order and lack thereof, may undermine, yet we are and it is. Can't that be enough.

2000-2001 Part 2

I was matched up with a 27 year-old California boy. I think it was 27 and he definitely was a boy. Blond hair, longer than the other missionaries of the group. I considered myself lucky I suppose. He made some allusions to turning his life around as he showed me his driver's license with even more hair covering his face. Spanish speaking, knocking on doors for hours. Nothing but short conversations at the open door. Then an old lady opened the door and she begged us to answer. All I remember well is the warmth, the exchange, elder to youth. She was a retired teacher, had taught for some 50 years. She must have been near 80 I suppose. I did enjoy listening to her stories, and about her children, excitement. Yet, my companion interjected many times about the church. Now, I can see no blame for his rudeness. His job, his sacrifice, his example for me required it. Yet I cannot forgive something. The church is not the issue I choose. I am fiercely angry about the sacrifice of the person for the church. The exclusion, the two sides I call Jesus. Let him stand in your midst, let him stand with the gentiles, and then with the sinners. Will you see him. I think not. She was happy to talk to us. It was difficult to exit but we did leave, and I took a turn.