The night is chilly, but the atmosphere is excited. The cheerful answer is enough to shoot a thrill down anyone's spine. People crowd into the building, its tough to make our way through to see everything. The third floor is where things are most interesting, and where a little work needs doing. The color is dark.
***
Driving through the beautifully lit city, the excitement must shadow the evening. The time passes so quickly, who could notice the speed it happens. Arriving at the correct place its easy to park, though it takes a few minutes to find the correct building - driving through back lots, alleyways and finally hearing the music. This is a dead giveaway. The night is still crisp, chilly. The area is odd, not dangerous, but odd. The color is light blue.
***
Awkward moments can make the most impressed of memories. Those moments which are awkward, but where those involved never notice, make good memories. Staring into another's eyes is believed to create a window to the soul; though avoiding another's eyes does not entirely hide the sight. The touch is enough, starkly reminiscent of the greeting's effects. The color is pine.
***
Travel to a destination is often the most overlooked time of life; given the time it takes, however, it seems there should be made particular use of the experience, particularly given the company. But so used, it passes quicker, leaving curiosity as to the nature of time - how is it that time will pass quicker when one wishes for it to stand still, but slower than one might fear when awaiting something important just around the next minute-bend? The color is grey.
***
Food is overrated, for there is much to do with an empty mouth that may not be possible while eating. The background has faded and in view sits only another. That is, the other, in each case. Water is bliss, but so little; but it is enough. Others nod knowingly, comment snidely, and build assumptions based on anything they see, though in this perhaps they are hypocrite, or perhaps they are right. The color is orange.
***
The end in sight, one fears. But fear is irrational; can one truly lock perspective into a single view of only this moment? It is our nature; and no amount of time is enough. Relaxing, though, gives flight to words and thoughts; histories, and stories, and hurts and challenges. There is more. And more, but restrictions often hold a heart in place; the end comes. The night begins to fade, once again, but this time, permanently. Ill fated winds blow, and it is over; the night fades, all is dark. The color is Royal Blue.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Words
I have begun yet another blog, one devoted to words and debate - I hope you will check it out and participate, words are wonderful! Please have a look and let me know what you think. I'm open to any ideas for improvement too.
http://popaword.blogspot.com/
http://popaword.blogspot.com/
Hello Kitty
My cat moved into my room this evening, at my invitation; I had missed her greatly. And as I say by my fireplace, petting her as she "prepared" her blanket for her nap, I contemplated to myself. I began to talk out loud to her and even cried a tear or two in thankfulness. She may be whiny and annoying at times, but tonight I have found nothing quite as comforting as sitting and contemplating as I pet her. I slip into a deep thought, and I find myself pulling the strings on a draw-bag containing the summary of my last year. I shall hold it.
So what is up?
One might say a great deal has passed in the deceptively simple life of the small boy known as Pete, for to me it most certainly has. But the more I look back upon it, the more I realize it is not so much that has happened, but so much that should have happened long ago.
Mistakes, perhaps, could have been avoided, as well as outright sin and foolishness. But in the life of a human such things are bound to occur as simply a result of us existing. The only question, then, is what we can learn from the mistakes, blessings, failures, wins, losses, the fun, the harsh, and the good and bad times. I feel this is the crux of life, and will define each of our lives, as it has mine over the past year.
A friend recently posted an end-of-year philosophical look-back, and I thought it was markedly brilliant to do so. It was full of wonderful ideas, such as a list of items she'd done for the first time in the past year, and more specific areas of growth and maturity she had observed along the way.
Throughout the past year, I have looked back and seen often nothing but failure. With brief reprieves and occasional somewhat-hopeful looks ahead came also despair and misery, hopelessness, and essentially, Godlessness. Yes, I ran from God many times during the year. I allowed my heart to be clouded with depression, needless depression. Even up until this week it was so. And I've struggled with my faith, always battling my feelings and my frustrations, giving in to what I wished and desired and, only after finding myself in a miserable situation, finally crying out to a God I knew existed, but in whom I had so little faith that I could not see Him. Even now I feel that my faith is so tiny that I am as a baby. The simplest struggles now seem to take root in my spirit and steal my heart against my will. Yet, I never doubt the God of Creation, the God of Life. This seems to me a very compromising statement.
So again I examine the past year and hope to glean some wisdom, some understanding and some knowledge I can take away from the experiences, and in many ways there has not been a year before in my life so packed with the lessons of this life.
I may have learned the hard way; I may have seriously degraded my life and that of some around me, and I may have wasted time moping about silly things and worthless desires, but finally I have come out into the light and may begin filing what I have learned and moving on. Yes, it has taken me nearly an entire year to come to this point from even just a single life altering experience, but it has happened. So this baby believer is born. Or reborn, as it were.
I do not know what the final perception of my person is to all of you, curious as I am to know. But my most sincere hope is that, though many of you have seen me at my worst and most horrible moments, you have also seen that God is greater than all of my flaws. I hope that you carry away with you a sense of awe and amazement that even I, a simple man with evil thoughts in his heart, can be rescued from sin and death and brought to true Life in Jesus. Even I can be saved from myself. And that truly is what I know to have happened - I was trapped in my own selfish desires, fears, and vices; I was in bondage and could not free myself. To this day, I do not know what exactly transpired to free me, but I know that it would not have been possible if my Creator had not willed it to be so, willingly and freely was murdered in place of my execution, and raised HIMSELF from the dead to ensure that it happened. My God saves, my God loves, and my God is the only God.
I hope He is your God too. And if He is, please join me every day in thanking Him for his wonders; for without him, I would be a living dead man, still worthless and hopeless, and still wreaking havoc on everything I touch.
So what is up?
One might say a great deal has passed in the deceptively simple life of the small boy known as Pete, for to me it most certainly has. But the more I look back upon it, the more I realize it is not so much that has happened, but so much that should have happened long ago.
Mistakes, perhaps, could have been avoided, as well as outright sin and foolishness. But in the life of a human such things are bound to occur as simply a result of us existing. The only question, then, is what we can learn from the mistakes, blessings, failures, wins, losses, the fun, the harsh, and the good and bad times. I feel this is the crux of life, and will define each of our lives, as it has mine over the past year.
A friend recently posted an end-of-year philosophical look-back, and I thought it was markedly brilliant to do so. It was full of wonderful ideas, such as a list of items she'd done for the first time in the past year, and more specific areas of growth and maturity she had observed along the way.
Throughout the past year, I have looked back and seen often nothing but failure. With brief reprieves and occasional somewhat-hopeful looks ahead came also despair and misery, hopelessness, and essentially, Godlessness. Yes, I ran from God many times during the year. I allowed my heart to be clouded with depression, needless depression. Even up until this week it was so. And I've struggled with my faith, always battling my feelings and my frustrations, giving in to what I wished and desired and, only after finding myself in a miserable situation, finally crying out to a God I knew existed, but in whom I had so little faith that I could not see Him. Even now I feel that my faith is so tiny that I am as a baby. The simplest struggles now seem to take root in my spirit and steal my heart against my will. Yet, I never doubt the God of Creation, the God of Life. This seems to me a very compromising statement.
So again I examine the past year and hope to glean some wisdom, some understanding and some knowledge I can take away from the experiences, and in many ways there has not been a year before in my life so packed with the lessons of this life.
I may have learned the hard way; I may have seriously degraded my life and that of some around me, and I may have wasted time moping about silly things and worthless desires, but finally I have come out into the light and may begin filing what I have learned and moving on. Yes, it has taken me nearly an entire year to come to this point from even just a single life altering experience, but it has happened. So this baby believer is born. Or reborn, as it were.
I do not know what the final perception of my person is to all of you, curious as I am to know. But my most sincere hope is that, though many of you have seen me at my worst and most horrible moments, you have also seen that God is greater than all of my flaws. I hope that you carry away with you a sense of awe and amazement that even I, a simple man with evil thoughts in his heart, can be rescued from sin and death and brought to true Life in Jesus. Even I can be saved from myself. And that truly is what I know to have happened - I was trapped in my own selfish desires, fears, and vices; I was in bondage and could not free myself. To this day, I do not know what exactly transpired to free me, but I know that it would not have been possible if my Creator had not willed it to be so, willingly and freely was murdered in place of my execution, and raised HIMSELF from the dead to ensure that it happened. My God saves, my God loves, and my God is the only God.
I hope He is your God too. And if He is, please join me every day in thanking Him for his wonders; for without him, I would be a living dead man, still worthless and hopeless, and still wreaking havoc on everything I touch.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Memory
Drifting along with the air, changing direction several times a second, swept on by the irresistible momentum of the invisible wind, the smell is indescribable;
It pulls me back to so many years ago.
To my right is a broken down garage, the back side converted to a chicken coop. Beyond that, toward the East, is an old barn in nearly as bad of condition. To my left is a one-story rambler, North of me spreading out to a strange shape from all the additions made over the years.
To the true East, a garden lies tilled from North to South, lining a forest. To the West is a field where the neighbor boys play baseball, football, soccer, and nearly every other sport on Saturdays. The sun is bright directly overhead heating the pool, which is placed in the only spot where sun shines nearly all day without shade or obstruction, 10 feet in front of me to my left.
Directly in front of me is the tree - its trunk merely 3 feet around, but rising in a single form well over 25 feet before branching out. It is October, and the leaves have long since fallen, but the branches maintain a strange stick-like shape with pollenated spheres. They are about 4 inches long, with 4-5 spheres apiece, roughly 2mm in diameter.
The smell emitted from each sphere is not identifiable by any other comparable smell, for such does not exist. It is truly unique and, quite honestly, not extremely pleasant. I have often wished this tree did not grow just outside the window of my bedroom, but it continues to grow there throughout the 13 years I live here. I am 14, staring up at the tree - its become normal, friendly, though still not a good smell. The tree looks barren, but I have so many good memories of the times there, yes, it is friendly.
Nearly 12 years later, now exiting my store and strolling across the parking lot, the smell blows its way to me again through the time and ages, bringing back with it the memories of the old house and life.
I am glad to remember, and I enjoy the smell; I walk slowly and remember. Always remember.
It pulls me back to so many years ago.
To my right is a broken down garage, the back side converted to a chicken coop. Beyond that, toward the East, is an old barn in nearly as bad of condition. To my left is a one-story rambler, North of me spreading out to a strange shape from all the additions made over the years.
To the true East, a garden lies tilled from North to South, lining a forest. To the West is a field where the neighbor boys play baseball, football, soccer, and nearly every other sport on Saturdays. The sun is bright directly overhead heating the pool, which is placed in the only spot where sun shines nearly all day without shade or obstruction, 10 feet in front of me to my left.
Directly in front of me is the tree - its trunk merely 3 feet around, but rising in a single form well over 25 feet before branching out. It is October, and the leaves have long since fallen, but the branches maintain a strange stick-like shape with pollenated spheres. They are about 4 inches long, with 4-5 spheres apiece, roughly 2mm in diameter.
The smell emitted from each sphere is not identifiable by any other comparable smell, for such does not exist. It is truly unique and, quite honestly, not extremely pleasant. I have often wished this tree did not grow just outside the window of my bedroom, but it continues to grow there throughout the 13 years I live here. I am 14, staring up at the tree - its become normal, friendly, though still not a good smell. The tree looks barren, but I have so many good memories of the times there, yes, it is friendly.
Nearly 12 years later, now exiting my store and strolling across the parking lot, the smell blows its way to me again through the time and ages, bringing back with it the memories of the old house and life.
I am glad to remember, and I enjoy the smell; I walk slowly and remember. Always remember.
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