Giver

It's an incredibly easy thing to think of God as some cosmic pleasure hating tyrant. I suppose it's the childishness in us that doesn't want to see the greater meaning to it all. We become bitter over Him not wanting us to play with fire or run with scissors. Those things that to us seem so harmless and attractive, that will slowly rot your insides and leave you hollow and joyless. It's much easier to overlook all that when it happens in the smallest of increments, the slowest of cancers. When we want it or if it feels good. It takes a bit more thought  to find that God's guidance to and from things have a greater purpose, a better intention for our lives. We would choose endless frivolities when it's cultivation that takes us to sweeter things. If we are honest with ourselves, we all know we think this way. Be it time to time, or all the time we desire to do what feels good rather then what IS good.

Perhaps there is a very different way to seeing God. To stop and note the beautiful intricacies in all of creation, echoing His love for the created. Perhaps His love is in that quiet moment with your first cup of coffee. The silent house with morning's glow casting shadowed streaks across the floor. The symphony of bird song floating in through screened windows.

Could there be love in the fresh smell of summer rain, or the scents of the forest as you drive winding roads with your windows down? Could the comfort of a cool breeze on a warm day be purposeful and deliberate? 

It is possible that He spread the stars for our enjoyment. Giving us a lit canopy to wonder at the infinite depth of His Glory. That the smell of a campfire floating through the night was meant to remind you of happy moments steeped in nostalgia.

Consider all the never-ending variety of taste and texture of  food or drink, and the filling of one's soul as you share them with the closest of friends. The sleeping sounds a newborn child or the resounding giggles of ones older. Reflect on the embrace of a loved one, and the feeling of safety as you pour out the things of your heart to them.

Perhaps it could be argued that these good things are overshadowed by all the darkness in this world. That they are so tiny in comparison to the despair we encounter. Sorrow has it's way of blinding us to the good around us. It certainly has its capacity to snuff out joy. Yet God still gives despite this darkness that we humans continually heap upon the world.

He gives hope.

He gives mercy.

He gives Himself.  

Communication

It is an awful imposition, being trapped in your own head. There is this resounding loneliness that stays with you, despite how many others surround you. I can best be described as if you were living your life separated from everyone by a glass wall. This glass wall is partly composed of an over abundance of self-awareness and also a struggle in presenting thoughts.




There is plenty racing around in your mind. Things you long to share and show the world; getting it past the glass is an ever present and sometimes exhausting challenge. There are times if you focus you can make your mind "yell" loud enough to get the thoughts out your mouth. You can share that little piece of yourself, hoping in some small way it gives a glimmer of who you are. You can give something out, instead of observing and stewing in your own internal dialogue.




Sometimes it's easier when someone walks up and taps on the glass. Asking a question or starting a conversation with a long introduction that gives you time to coordinate your own desired communication contributions.




Frequently, even that is not enough. You require time to process, to catch the thought you want to give amongst a whirling tornado of ideas and sub-thoughts. This is notably more difficult when you are weary, when your body is slow but your mind still spins. It becomes comparable to trying to catch a fish with your bare hands. People become impatient, and you then you begin to worry about what they are thinking of your silence. This just adds one more thing to all that noise.




Often small talk is painfully difficult, especially when it comes expectedly, with no time to prepare. You get past the introductions and the "how are you-s" and you know more needs to come in order to keep discussions going. Then that part of your mind where outgoing messages suddenly goes blank, then crashes. You are faced with an awkward moment of silence waiting for a reboot, worrying that you seem weird or are making the other uncomfortable. Sometimes you just let it go, kicking yourself later when intelligibility becomes available again and discovering what you could have said.




I  can't say how often and how much I have longed to be real with people. To be able to bare my soul with reckless abandon and not worry about the potential judgments. I want to be known, to give love, to share emotions, to discuss thoughts, to be remembered for an authentic compassion.


I want deep meaningful relationships and connections. A life open and free.




I will have to find a way to break this wall in order to live the way I long to.




With meaning.

A Moment of Clarity

There are these times in life where we are granted moments of clarity. Where the fogs of distraction and day to day worry dissipate. Where the beauty the path desired is revealed with as much clarity as the blue skies of autumn.

These moments often come in the simplest of times. Driving home in the warmth of a summer night; with the sound of wind passing through open windows, and your favorite music set as loud as you are able to stand.

Life's continuance may leave you despairingly addled about it's direction and it's meaning. There are times where you may feel entangled, endlessly in a drift into foreign waters.

But, when clarity calls it's as if God Himself took pause to breath promise into your heart. An expression of cosmic love filled with intention and design.

I desire to learn a love filled with a furiousity that could only be taught by God. Pushing to burst outside the selfish barriers of a shy nature. Being filled to the brim in the confidence of Christ, that it pours out to any and all it impacts.

I long to be noted by kindness and compassionate friendship. To relinquish freely without the thought of cost to myself. I want to share anything in me that is good and right.

I aspire to be a greater husband and a better father. To serve and to lead, to teach and to learn. I want to combat the urge of putting myself first and make the needs of my family priority above my own. I want to create and share with the world.

 I want to adventure, to laugh, to sing. I want to tell stories of the world that surrounds me through the lense of a camera. Finding beauty in the lives of others. Stopping time in a frame just to capture that extraordinary beauty that marks our souls.

I want to live well with the knowledge that my race was run with all of the effort I could force from myself. And in that end I will hear that soft still voice saying, "Well done, it's time to come home".

Light

Light is the soul of art; the giver of color. It transforms all that lies in darkness toward vibrant entity. The deep red of dawn warms cold mountain faces. The evening yellow gives all things a brilliant glow, as the breeze flows through leaves and branches. Even in the bleakness of an all gray sky, light softly touches the world around us. It brings balance to composition; illuminating intricacies and casting contrasting shadows. Light evokes emotion and delivers meaning. It brings life to the lifeless.

 

Light is a simple thing; one that reveals the earth's infinite complexities. It casts refinement onto the most plain of objects; turning the forests and the fields into luminous day dreams. It has the ability to cast patterned shadow. It kisses the skin with warmth and gives the eyes a brilliant gleam. It shows love and laughter, pain and heartache, birth and death. It is the basis of everything we know.

 

Perhaps this is the reason God saw fit to create it first, and to call it good thereafter.

All my days I have chased the light; through translucence of a camera's view. Forever in awe of creation's beauty; inspired to share my perspective. I endeavor to capture even a small percentage of the artistry that is life in this world. Carefully framing where light touches creation; waiting for that click to preserve a moment in time forever.

This empty house is made full by friends unseen. The veiled, who have found their own clever devices of correspondence. I beg, do not be alarmed at the drifting whispers through the halls and corridors. You may also notice the sensation of delicate fingers tracing your spine as you turn away in your bed. Deep creaks and groans are known to be frequently heard beneath floors and behind doors. The steady pace of shallow breaths drift from darkened corners finding rest in the ears of beloved guests. It should be stressed that although these companions have the tendency to disconcert, they mean you no harm. No harm, to you who stay and play.

It is quite a sobering thought, calculating ones life. The knowledge that if all goes to plan you only have fifty, maybe sixty years left on this earth. I know that contemplating your mortality can be frightening, maybe paralyzing. This glimmer of a life comes and goes like a faint breath compared to the vast history of the universe. Sometimes it's easier to push this fact far to the back of your mind. Distracting is an efficient way to deal with fear. I have come to find a sweetness in staring your inevitable death in the face. Life is precious because it is limited. It is beautiful because it is finite. I remind myself that time is fleeting and it frees me from the burden of the trivial. It helps me focus on the beautiful tiny moments in time. I greedily want to hoard all time with my best friend, my wife. When my infant son wakes me up in the night, I remind myself that in a blink he will be a little boy, in another a young man. I realize the ever smaller number of years I have until all my children are in school and they no longer have time for their daddy. Keeping perspective is a battle. I prefer to remind myself of my lessoning time, keeping my focus on what truly matters. Money, a career, material things, all gone in an instant. People are the greatest possible investment. Love is the best thing you can leave in this world. It is the only thing that has a hope to last.

Dream Journey

In the night, in my dreams fly far away. Journeying through mountain passes thick with forest and fog. Streams that sing and lakes so still they mirror perfectly the stars above. I walk in distance and I move in time. Passing through to the days where the land was wild and men were free. An age where the earth was still had the faintest glimmer of it's former purity. The unknown fills my heart with the perfect union of fear and wonder. My soul is parched with a thirst for emprise that can not be quenched.

Meaning

I long for meaning. To take time, seeing the weight of the moments I am in. To remove the haze of aberration from the clarity of my present. I ache for meaning, in every breath, in every heartbeat. Let my soul delight in every sunrise, each child's laugh, every raindrop, each kiss. Give me mercy for the days of weakness, when I stray from purpose. Grant strength to correct from drifting into mundane distractions. I thirst for meaning and I have found it in You. In this, finding awareness that it does not come apart from You, my Creator.

Flakes of white fall slowly, appearing to dangle in mid air. Bleached tones, providing fresh cover among the branches of trees and all that lay below them. The cold lingers with little movement as if wind was a thing of the past. Stillness has a screaming silence that permeates these woods and echoes through the wilderness. No sound, no breeze, just the soft kiss of frozen flakes against the skin of the huddled lifeless.

Who am I on this tiny rock but an even smaller portion of it. Humbled by the vastness of Your infinite creation. I can not gaze at that starry ceiling sky without awe of You. Each constant light a lantern from distant shores. Filling my heart with hope and wonder. Despite my desperate small existence You still call to me. Loving me in my wretchedness, giving all to pull me from the drowning dark. The grace You give is as unfathomable as that night expanse. You patiently carve away the deadness in me, healing me into something whole, something greater. You hold the universe in balance and still put attention into my being. You offer a fullness of life that does not exist apart from you. I have no choice but to echo back a meager attempt of love. You are all to me.