{sigh.}

well, here we are again, blog.
i promise im not a depressing person.

yeah, i know, that's what they all say.

well! pfft fine! that's the thanks i get for updating you!

oh my, i would roll my eyes if i could.

cheap rom-coms and their corresponding eels soundtracks that i (tear) just have to go and google, bring me here.

...

don't judge.

soooooh. lemme guess? what variation of life's "sooo tough" do we have for today?

yes, thank you very much for asking, meany, (sniffle) it is tough, you would know if you had to live it!

i really hope you don't poor out your heart, that's just like seriously crampin all up in my style!



...yeah, computers are not very sympathetic.

and, you would think they would at least use proper english and not all these slang phrases.

i keep hoping

that someday... i can do something. i hope that someday i change something, rather than just write about it.

i have gone in or to a lot of churches in my life. i know for sure over 30, very possibly a bit upwards of that. me, being, as i happily like to call it "art-inclined" i can remember way, way back staring at bulletins when i either "couldn't" or just wasn't understanding the sermon.

some people are good with names, or dates; i can remember images, how things looked.  churches were such places of beauty to my young eyes.  the gorgeous floral arrangements in the front, the women in their Sunday finery, all the men's ties, the heavenly choir robes, stain glass windows, little ones in ribbons and bows, the lush carpet, the smooth wooden pews; i drank it in with amazement. as i got older, new technologies allowed even more exuberance: glossy pictured bulletins, murals, such visually striking power-points, scrolling song backgrounds, lights, music videos, heart-wrenching Skype interviews... flyers that were made with such attention to type-set fonts they belonged in art museum. it was beautiful, just beautiful.

no, i'm not going to say this is wrong, or bad that this is the case in the modern church. i felt like it really enhanced my experience-- if i can say that, without it sounding weird. God is a God of beauty, majesty, splendor! He is the the Creator, the original Designer. is it wrong to be amazed and in a beautiful environment when worshiping Him? resoundingly no!

i get older, and the incredibly annoying thing, is i see and become aware of incredibly horrible things, ugly despicable things i wish i never knew. that tree of knowledge of good and evil? yuck! i wish they would have never taken that bite.

no longer can i be happily unaware even if i wanted to. i guess sometimes i feel guilty; i see this vast "continental divide" so to speak of wealth. i see people living like dogs slaves to sin on the street when we have the most gorgeous and perfect church service.

i guess i just want that change. i get antsy. i can't stand injustice.
and boy, does it sting when you look at in a gold-rimmed bathroom mirror.

i was watching a documentary recently called "Lost Angels: Skid Row is My Home",
( http://www.hulu.com/watch/460340 ) that i wish everyone could see. basically documents the life of people living on the streets and their incredibly wretched situation.

so i suppose what have i proved? that i can complain about a lot of stuff, that i am essentially not doing anything about.  i really am trying to not criticize "the church" for allowing these things, only perhaps a re-evaluation of needs and directives....

i guess....... i just hope that maybe someone will mistakenly read this and it will make a difference, or that God somehow..... lets me help in a way.

well, you're quite the one of resolve, aren't you.

the man who can't be moved.

cant bend a smidgion to the right or a head nod to an apology.

yes, those are ones our heroes are made of;

clodding off into the sunset.

take a good long look boys, can you see?

strong stock, that is.

and stock it will stay.

pride is an ugly weed, poisons a fella straight through~

makes all them accomplishments become

mighty sim'lar to the stuff you wear on the bottom of your shoe.

piano in a lone room

People destroy beauty, with their brazen laughs

Never stop, symphony.

Move around me. As I in this stillness, sleep.

As I in this swirling cosmos for a moment cease.

Tune my ear, oh beauty. I have grown deaf.

Slowly, I do not wish it, but

I fear to lose the only worthwhile sound I know~

Envelop me sweet music. Ye measurer

Of time and place, distance erased,

Travel me.

learning to walk

i'm such a baby sometimes~ a silly little ambitious baby with fists tightly clenched, a scowl of determination across my face, nevermind pudgy legs beneath me that are sure to not hold my weight. oh~ but i set off across the room all right~ i want my toy after all.

sometime i need to learn that learning to walk is not doing it by myself.

Father, how you must watch with crinkled eyes as i make my clumsy rounds-- skinning my knee every once in a while, banging my head on a counter-top. you don't hold my desire against me, you know how i want to walk. how perfectly patient you are, how incredibly loving you are as you lowly call my name.

i do not hear you. i am busy. no time to stop~ off to repeat the process of falling down and getting up.

eventually, i know i must get tired, i'm sure i do. somehow i always end up in a soft bed at night.
maybe in the morning, tomorrow, i will hold your hand as i walk.