Home for Christmas

The snow-covered world ushers me home

the road stretching out beneath me

as the stars array themselves overhead

this time of year

I follow not Polaris

but Orion

his belt my beacon

East east east

homeward

The mountains rise

my mountains

not to be conquered

but befriended

like a funnel

they channel me

the final miles

Home

snow and sunshine

your outsides are cold

but your insides feel warmth

comfort

Peace.

Advent Poem

Advent
time to prepare
time to clear out space
in the corner of the living room
for the Christmas tree
time to clear out space
in the cluttered corners of our lives
for the Prince of Peace.

Time to prepare.
time to wipe away skepticism
and open our eyes wide
like a child's
and believe in miracles once again.

Time to prepare.
time to use our imagination
to picture ourselves in a dark field
late at night
huddled with sheep to stay warm
we are dirty and tired
and yet chosen
to be the first to receive the new King.

Time to prepare.
time to give thanks for family
from Mary and Joseph receiving the unexpected gift of a son
to our own
sometimes dysfunctional
we gather anew each year to celebrate.

Time to prepare.
Time to prepare for an upside-down King
who spends His time with the poor
the dirty
the sick
not a king of wealth and power
but one born in a manger
scented not with oils and perfumes
but with the odors of horses, cows, and sheep.

Time to prepare.
Because if we don't prepare
we might not leave room in our lives
for His presence to matter at all.

Side by side

Lets go downtown
everyone says
Drinks
dancing
some places won't even charge a cover!
Ok.
Good by me.

And what a scene it is
people all around
making connections
as the bass shakes the walls
music emanating out those open doors
hips gyrating on the dance floor
sweat pouring from your face
what fun
what a scene
this
is the place to be.

unless you look across the street

you see a shape huddled under
what little shelter there is
from that constant fall drizzle
a doorway
set back
a few feet from the sidewalk
head buried under a too-thin sleeping bag
trying desperately to tune out
and sleep through the noise
and mirth
all around.

We walk by individually
but collectively we seek to ignore
and forget
the clear presence
of poverty
next to luxury
inequality amongst us.

Prisms

rainbows dancing on the walls
like angels surrounding us
let my life be a prism
that takes the light of the world
and reflects brilliant colors
into every dark corner.

Tough one

I call myself an aspiring pacifist
not passive-ist
mind you
a seeker of peace
through action
violence only begets violence
and yet
disarmament sounds easy
sounds great
how much money would we save?
lets dedicate that waste
to feeding families every day
hunger is causing our societal decay
how can a child learn when all they
can think about is that
growling in their stomach?
but if we take away
military dollars
from military families
what happens then?
will repercussions be felt
we haven't foreseen?
suddenly unemployment rises
where will they work?
and is some of that military budget
going to mental health services and support
for veterans and families?
that one needs to be left alone
or made even more of a priority

so how can you and me
fit into a solution
of peace?
and how do we do it with delicacy
a way that brings unity and harmony
rather than animosity and fear?
Hold each other carefully, my friends
for we tread on each others'
livelihoods and dreams.

Black and Yellow (an Ode to my Steelers)

I remember that black and yellow

from my youth

sitting on the couch with Dad

watching our boys clad in the 

simplicity of that same Steel Curtain

3 diamonds on the helmet

one side

we keep it simple

no fanciness here

unless you're Yancey

dancin around defenders, dragging your toes as you bring in that 

touchdown from O'Donnell.

Pure bliss watching that Colts

Hail Mary miss

memories of the Chargers theft

still fresh in my young mind

I remember Slash

he was my boy

number 10 all over the field

unstoppable

run 

throw

catch the ball

We talk about the Wildcat now

some new invention?

nobody mentions Kordell lining up in the backfield

I could watch his highlight reel on repeat

A headache for the defense every week

I remember his fall from grace

fading into Steelers memories.

I remember the Bus

St. Louis a fool to let him go

How many defenders rode his back

into the end zone for those years?

Hammering the D

wear them down

run that team into the ground

After all, we're the Steelers

6 rings on the fingers

Each loss lingers like a welt

Sometimes I question myself

ask why I care so much

but some passions passed from father to son

cannot be unlearned.

Like the stream

Can a dog pull a plow?
I'm sure it can
but is that the smart way
to work with the land?

it's like asking a thimble to work as a cup
as inefficient a practice as that may be

yet so it is with me
can I perform functionally
in various capacities?
Sure.
But where do I find true vibrancy?
the full breadth of my tapestry?
Not just a time filler.
another time killer.
How long till we find our
role in this system?
Or am I missing it
and it's as clear
as those high mountain streams
that I hold so near my heart

They move with direction, and purpose
perhaps my path also winds its way steadily,
a meandering course to be sure
but with direction and purpose
ever present.

Creation happened today

Fall on the Oregon coast
is a constant remembrance of creation
dark clouds close in
days seem dim and dull
and then the heavens open
the earth is clean, new.
the sun emerges
bringing light
joy
hope.
soon, however,
the dark clouds are back.
the cycle continues.
but sometimes
we get lucky
and rain is accompanied
by sun streaming through
prisms darting to the ground
as they collapse into themselves
ephemeral stars of the mid-day rain
tiny shards of miracles
knifing through the sky
to their ultimate destination
in the ground.
inducing life.
creation
just happened
today.

Faith like a child

Sometimes
experience
dilutes our faith
poisons the fountain of youth
from which the purest emotions flow.
Like a child's view of a parent
nothing is wrong
they are perfect
until life
until experience
teaches you otherwise.

Can we ever return to purity?
To the hopeless, unchanging, unwavering, unjudging, unfazed love
of our youth?
No.
Maybe.
I don't know.
But if I am to enter the kingdom
like a child
I'd better let
my cynicism
skepticism
judgmentalism
and capitalism
die.
and open my eyes wide
to the constant miracles surrounding me.

Talkin 'bout my generation

Does it matter,
our physical presence?
In church, I mean
Do we have
to literally step foot inside
every Sunday
to worship our Creator?

The church pursues young people
with the inherent, programmed tenacity
of a bee seeking pollen
desperately seeking new beginnings
yet unwilling to allow them to take hold

The problem is
too often
the pursuit comes across as
"your life isn't right without us.
let us
change you.
heal you. "

But I don't really think that is the case
So many of my friends will never show their face
in a church
yet lead purposeful
merciful
holy
lives.

When will we recognize that each of us takes our own path home?

See it through

The youth director preached at church today, and he shared a conversation he had with his daughter, when she was 11. She was facing a tough decision, and he told us about her decision-making process, and how she ended up choosing what she did.

"Dad, it was a really hard decision, and I couldn't decide what to do.
but I know you
and I trust you
so I let you make the decision for me."

Decisions
are they made with conviction?
Or are you still struggling
with the friction between
the choices you have?
You've given voice to both paths
and found no real perceptible difference
a sound choice, either way

So what to do?
Don't make it up to you.
Let it be.
Let God see it through.

Cowboy Boots

Some days
you wake up
with cold feet
little toes like icicles
don't bend them too far
they might break

some days
your worldview is bleak
eyes blurred by cynicism
and frustration
hopeless in a world of hurt

some days
you just feel small
too little
no impact
a gnat caught on a wave
crashing
on the beach
helpless

those days
I find
nothing helps
my peace of mind
like my comfy
seven dollar
thrift store purchased
cowboy boots.

Why one person?

Why does one person preach every Sunday?

It's not that I don't value their point of view
or their understanding of a Creator who makes all things new
it's just that we spend all our time recreating the past
reexamining history time and time again
and I think it's time we asked
our own people
to share their stories

but why are we scared to get up front
and share our experience of the divine?
scared people will laugh?
scared someone will get up there and say something
...crazy?
but wouldn't that be a real church?
an honest church?
teaching from among our own
we have only what
we
have
experienced.

for aren't we all in this together?
scratching
clawing
straining
for grasp
on some paradigm-shifting fact
that forever eludes us
ever out of sight
beyond the next hill
around the next corner?

and what can we do
but listen to one another
and work to climb that hill
turn that corner
together?

Kingdom, Power, Glory

"...and the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen."

Kingdom
power
glory.

Kingdom
is built on feet
not philosophy
the basis of action
foundation
built step by step
step by step
step
by
step

Kingdom
power
glory.

Power.
We seek not dominance
but love
pursue the worldview
of a child
no enemies
no judgment
only wide eyes
searching for friends

Kingdom
power
glory.

Whose stories do we lift up?
those who rise above?
the frail
stories
whispered in the night

or those of excess
wasting away
with more and more stuff
headlines on the news
carry dating updates and jail intakes

who is being glorified
in our
stratified
broken
system?

NYC-Big City Lights

i.

Big city lights
busy city nights
car horns sounding as
off beats
to taxi doors slamming
claustrophobic?
sometimes.
Life presses on all sides
humanity surrounding you
fear?
not really.
if anything, kinship.
appreciation.
affirmation.
like grain swaying in the summer breeze
the distances between us
are forever changing
near and far.
near and far.

ii

that warmth you feel inside?
it's not all
just the alcohol
you feel connected
to the world around
reject those notions of barriers
walls surrounding
a few drinks in
and we all wear our hearts on our sleeve
no longer feeling the need
to be anyone other than
who
we
are.

iii

and the lights spread out before you
beyond sight
beyond view
beyond comprehension
expansive

the only apt comparison
for those big city lights
are the stars that
glimmer above every night
decorating the sky
like a paintbrush with parkinsons
they blow us away
we are but one light in the city
and in the sky we are but one star.

Rocky Beach

Maybe someday
this will be just another
pristine, sandy beach
and tourists can play dune tag
and volleyball in the sand
locals will even come out on the nice weekends
with their beach towels and boogie-boards
to enjoy the feeling
of sand leaking up between their toes

but for now
I'll take the smooth gray pebbles
giving way beneath your feet
the seals' heads
bobbing on the rolling waves
of their secluded cove
floating closer
to sate their curiosity

I'll take the breathtaking impact
of waves on rocks
pinnacles, fortresses against time
the waves a culmination of forces we barely even understand
compelling them shore-ward, to land

For now
I can feel, almost oppressively, the force of the ocean
its passion rings in my ears
like the pebbles
cascading down the beach
as the wave retreats
nature's xylophone
treating whoever is present
to a breathtaking chorus

Give it enough time
and that beach might become sand
and you can take it.
I'll have to move on
and find another rocky beach.

Fear is a Weapon

Fear is a weapon of mass destruction
and it's destroying our souls


everywhere you look
it's fear controlling our actions
reactions
splitting our communities
into factions
fractions of what we could be
showing us
what we really lack
is trust

fear drives a wedge between us
a wall dividing our spirits
dividing our love
our generosity
and creativity
small
insulated
lives.

we're told to be scared of everything
beware
terrorists
              governments
                                 religions
I hear
"they" are trying to
destroy us
             brainwash us
                                 manipulate us.
And naturally we rise to our guard
after all
we only hear horror stories
stories of fear
heroes and hope
are left hidden
for they bring in very poor ratings

in a day and age
where the world hangs in the balance
cold wars occurring daily
in a fearful, distraught environment
I contest the greatest WMD
the greatest thing that saddens me
is our own fear

and while fear may not
wield an easily visible weapon
you can still see it
on the faces of strangers as you walk by
for we fail to see our similarities
and commonalities
we see only the unknown
and the unknown "they" can never
be trusted

so while we build our walls of
steel
wood
people
laws
we fail to see
that despite our valiant attempts
to save life as we know it
our way of life
the "American dream"
our own fear
is ripping our collective soul
apart.

Play the sun down

Play the sun down
Beth/Rest Bonny Bear
lay it's head down gently on

the floating ocean waves
let the horizon embrace
the changing light
as lovers hold each other
evening turns to night


Few moments create pause
in a world of movement
and
instant gratification

but a sunset
over the Pacific
has an audience
beyond comprehension
time stops
the music plays
and light fades.

Innocence of the Young

Hello!

His clear, exuberant voice greeted me as soon as I rounded the corner
his blonde, curlish locks barely visible
above the front of his stroller

Hello!

The face of his father greeted me differently
with
distrust
worry
fear

and I can't help but pause
and contemplate
a world of youth
void of the curse of life experience
and pain

a world
where each stranger you meet
brings hope
joy.
new possibilities.
the world is created new through the eyes of the young.

Ghosts

Do you believe in ghosts?
Now maybe I don't necessarily mean
haunting, floating
images
but spirits
leading
speaking
unsettling

I'm starting to think they are
the messengers
we hear about in movies
but maybe not haunts to scare us
maybe our ghosts
are our hopes
dreams
aspirations
things that cannot be pushed aside
but must be followed.
Addressed.
Given in to
wherever they may take us

Perhaps are ghosts
are nothing more than our own
second-guessings of our lives
because we've been too scared to live our dreams.

A kingdom coming

The kingdom is coming
and people are getting nervous
those who don't understand
those who fear the unknown
and those who are so self-assured
that they're the holy church

for the kingdom coming
will usher in a new day
new ways of life
new equalities

and the people in power
those declaring the "others" that will be left out
will be so disappointed to find
that the kingdom has come for all
not just their perfect congregation
but everyone
flawed and selfish as we may be.

Adding pieces to the puzzle

Being gone
makes coming back that much better
like a long, hard winter
helps one appreciate beautiful summer weather
a community without a member
is like a puzzle without a piece
never quite complete
and love is the glue
that holds it together
**************

Do I know my neighbor?
Do I like my neighbor?
Do I agree with my neighbor?
Do I trust my neighbor?
Do I think my neighbor would do the same thing for me?
Doesn't matter.
What matters is that I love them
and that by doing so
I add a piece to the puzzle
I help create a larger
more diverse picture
one of a larger community
where everyone is invited
and loved.

My Post-General Assembly letter to the church

To my church,

whom I love.

I am angry.
I am angry we prioritize politics
over our relationships with each other.
I am angry that members of our community
threaten to leave when their
demands aren't met
the temper tantrum of a petulant child

I am frustrated.
I am frustrated that hours upon hours
years upon years of work
done by so many different people
is so quickly dismissed by those
newly educated on the subject
by those scared of change
or spending a little money.

I am disappointed.
I am disappointed that we
as a church
missed a chance to speak
the prophetic voice in our world
we could have no longer been a thermometer reflecting society
but the thermostat dictating change
I am disappointed that in efforts
to appease the loudest
we have allowed the silent to stay ignored.

I am sad. I am sad for our divisions.
I grieve for schisms rendered
and relationships broken.
I am sad we remain stuck
in neutral
able to go neither forward nor back.

But I have hope.
I have hope for the conversations I have seen
the dissimilar theologies and worldviews
committing to developing relationships
mending rifts

I have hope for the young voices I heard
voices that demand our ears
and our respect
not simply because they are young
but because they hold the
passion
love
and commitment to reconciliation
that will guide this church forward.

And I have faith.
Even at my lowest points
when I doubted God's presence in our midst
when I questioned the motives of voting members
even as the dreams and visions I held for this week
dissolved as chalk on sidewalk in the rain

I have faith.
For while I lament
timing
urgency
immediacy
I know it is not our will, but His be done
and while we may not know where that takes us
my dear church
it's exactly where we need to be.

Even in
my anger
my frustration
my disappointment
and my sadness
my dear PCUSA,
I love you.

Firestarter

How do you take the energy
from disappointment
the anger
of frustration
and turn it into positive growth?

these are the moments of holy fury
the fanning of the fire
that needs ignition

perhaps we have built the fire
and we were waiting only for this,
a single match.

A thought on General Assembly

Listen
my friends
listen
for as we clamor about
with activities
agendas
ambitions

we fail to listen for
awakenings
as we
go
go
go

I fear our own desires
are clouding our visions
like dust settling on a once-vivid photograph.

Reflections on life

Funerals
these memorials
are always bizarre.
Nothing makes you reflect on your own demise
like recognizing the death of another
and yet
I always end up more focused on life
for as we sit in remembrance of one gone
we discuss their character
their ambition
their achievements
and I can't help but wonder if
what we're talking about
is what they wanted to be about
if our perception of a life lived
matches that of the person who has died
at all.

It seems to me, then
that when I reach my end
I want no debate
there will be no room in that place
for discussion as to who I was

"A servant for all" that could be said
for love
for peace
for justice
if I can end my life with those reflecting on it
remembering
diligence
dedication
selflessness

if that funeral is not a funeral
but a day of servanthood
where all gathered don't cry or mourn
but smile as they help a neighbor
laugh as they meet a stranger
and rejoice in the servanthood of one another
I'll have lived as I wanted.

Dust

From dust we came
swirls in the wind
fleeting faces emerging
from a transient medium

from dust we came
pieced together
as a clay pot
teetering on the edge of a stand.
fragile
falling

from dust we came
we are not simply caretakers of the earth
we ARE the earth
it is contained in us
when we harm the earth
we harm none other than our selves
our very being

to dust we return
when i die
do not tarry
in returning me to
my natural form
and take those ashes
pieces of the earth that I am
and let me drift home.

Reflections on the Forest at night #2

From the hike on Mt. Jefferson:

Dim shapes loom in the blackness
ancient firs, pines, and spruce
forming the pillars that support the sky above us.

Underfoot the needles form a carpet
ushering you in to the palace
letting you know
you are welcome here.

There is a hush in the air
things are quiet
respectful
reverent
only brief murmurs can be heard in the silence

and then
with the sunrise
you enter the throne room
and see the king
rising above you


It seems far easier to recognize your place in the world when you're in the right context.

Reflections on the forest at night

I recently was able to climb Mt. Jefferson, a magnificent peak in the center of Oregon. In order to summit a peak such as this, you have to get an early start in the morning: in our case, we left the car a little before 4 am. I found the forest at night to be a unique and complex place.


In the forest at night
you feel small
trees stretch upwards
beyond sight
humbling your
conqueror's mentality.

In the forest at night
mystery reigns supreme
as your single headlamp
illuminates but a fraction
of what surrounds you

In the forest at night
distance and time become relative
in the dark
only the present matters
only your next step matters

and fear is an option
as it always is
fear could overtake you
in your steps as you walked
fear of being small
fear of the unknown
fear of being present.

so you choose
whether the forest at night
is a place you really want to be.

Addressing Justice

I'm beginning to question
this idea of a "just" God
The God that would reject from heaven
those that rejected compassion and mercy on earth.
Justice doesn't seem like the right word for that
bitterness seems a better description
What if justice instead
is a striving for shalom
justice isn't
"you get what's coming"
justice is grace.
A God that holds grudges?
No.
What if justice is such a revolutionary idea
we don't even understand it?
What if justice, by definition, contains
uncompromising forgiveness?
Unconditional grace?
Maybe we've defined justice poorly.
With little breadth.
little justice.
God's justice gets bigger.

Easter Sunday, 2012

Empty seems to have a

negative connotation

glass half empty

like a bad attitude

we like things that are full

overflowing

filled beyond belief

yet the story of Easter

isn't about what is full

it isn't about presence

but the lack of it.

it turns our desires

our notions of what is good

and makes us question it.

Jesus only appears to a few disciples

the rest of us have only an empty tomb

not presence

but a void

not evidence

but only the glimmer of hope

that allows faith to grow.

Lent-Day 40

Cracks in the armor

spaces through which the

light shines through

revealing bits of themselves

that hurt

that are painful

that make them vulnerable.

even when the tomb

seems dark

and empty

cold

and sad

you have to remember:

Easter is coming.

Lent-Day 39

Darkness can hold comfort

it covers transgressions

fears

insecurities

like a comforting blanket

of warmth.

Candles hold the key

the Spirit present in the group

holding attention

not about each light, each person

but about the "we"

a community of light

that only full realizes itself

when darkness is all around.

Lent-Day 38

Peace feels

like falling

falling

falling

seeing the ground

rise up to meet you

a wall you can't escape

fear

terror

coursing through every

crevice of your soul

and then landing

like a fragile egg

on the downiest of pillows

safe.

peace.

Lent-Day 37

I'm back among the books

searching for the words of wisdom

that will bring peace

Beckoning for the comfort of Grandpa

to still my heart

speak to my soul

in ways I can learn to hear.

I hunger for knowledge

books call to me

to challenge the ways I view the world

that have become static

entrenched in the dust and dirt

that comes with too little usage.

My thirst is for purpose

not identity

but meaning.

Do I assign value, meaning?

Or are the definitions found somewhere deep within?

Lent-Day 36

So many say

"Listen to God."

But I'm not really sure it's that easy.

I'm just not sure when it is

that God is speaking

while my mind is chattering away

like members of a Sunday morning brunch group.

"Listen, he'll speak."

Through a person?

Through a symbol?

maybe I'm making it too difficult

when really it's simple

and I just haven't learned how.

I crave silence

but even when my ears hear nothing

my senses are clouded by the dull roar

of everything flowing through my head

crashing like ocean waves

upon the clarity I desperately desire.

Listen?

While I know everyone wants the best for me

I can't help but detect agendas, plans

beyond my control.

The idea of God controlling my life doesn't scare me

as much as the notion that the people of God are trying to

I don't want to turn independence into a god

rather

it seems to lead me to Him.

So I'm trying to listen to God

but that still small voice struggles to be heard

in the clamor.

Lent-Day 35

I've been thinking

wrestling with my

restless nature

wondering why I keep searching

looking

wandering.

It has occurred to me

that writing

holds hope.

So many of my projects

thoughts

dreams

deal with the power

of pen

and paper.

Perhaps purpose can be found

through this passion.

Lent-Day 34

if something tickles your core

consider it a foot in the door

for the more time we spend

in the ways we're intended

we're ourselves more than ever before.

when we allow the Spirit to search us

our lives are filled with purpose

we'll find ourselves places we never imagined

we'll recognize friends we've never shook hands with

a community that will not desert us.

Lent-Day 33

Wisdom

like a seed

needs to be nurtured.

Cultivated.

It can lay dormant.

Quiet.

Asleep.

But given the right conditions

the seed can

grow

grow

grow.

A plant is never complete

never done changing

but "success" for a plant

if possible

is sowing

new seeds.

Lent-Day 32

Smell can conjure such memories

the simplest scents carry the

weight of our lives

trapped within

so walking into a library

full of those musty books on faith

I feel presence.

I walk into Grandpa's study,

grab a book

and start to read.

Grandpa sits down next to me

and does the same.

Lent-Day 31

What is our greatest fear?

The unknown.

But what is the unknown

if not misrepresented as failure?

We're scared of what is different.

Hard.

Uncomfortable.

Yet somehow fear encourages growth.

For who can become

without being pushed

prodded

pulled

beyond their comfort level

and into the realm of uncertainty?

Certainly not me.

The question is then asked:

How to be something different than stability?

For fear can push us

but it can also

hold us down

unable to take a step forward.

Lent-Day 30

I think people spend their lives

searching for freedom.

A life, year, day, even brief moment of

release

peace

from the burdens weighing them down.

But I think a solution is fear.

That moment when your heart jumps

starts beating like a drumline in rhythm

hammering with force enough to build a home

you're nervous

anxious

And then

finally

it happens

right when you lift off.

Fear.

Release.

Peace.

Lent-Day 29

Like the trials before success

Lent hits with the rains of drudgery

mired in the mud

struggling to strive towards the light of

springtime

newness

resurrection.

the months of heavenly tears

can draw to a close

the rays of warmth can begin to

pierce the wall of clouds

holding darkness in

spring is coming

spring is coming

a new day is about to begin.

Lent-Day 28

You know

I don't mean to be critical

but sometimes I wonder

if churches should grow at all

I see these giant mega-churches

places big as a shopping mall

and I wonder what they're saying inside.

When I read the Gospel the sacrifices required

seem a tall order

seem like something people wouldn't want to hear

yet some churches grow exponentially

while others stay small

Maybe it's easier to

fall in line with thousands of people

on either side of you

lost in the insanity

of numbers and projectors and big screen tvs

of pastors and leaders

preaching of money

wealth

prosperity.

But the Gospel I've read takes the opposite side

if we ever think we're giving enough, well we are

lying to ourselves

unwilling to let our pride in our accomplishment and treasure

release

The idea I'm thinking

maybe mildly proposing

is that maybe the church should be the smallest inclusive community around.

everyone

Everyone

EVERYONE

is invited.

But the call to sacrifice

might keep numbers small.

Lent-Day 27

It is hard to whine

when I think of the context of my decisions

I realize how lucky I am

How many have options at all?

I think right now it'd be pretty easy to fall

into a sea of self-pity

to look at myself as a victim of

clashing coincidences

colliding interests

clouding my consciousness.

But I am lucky.

No matter what happens.

I am lucky.

Lucky to live where an education is possible.

Lucky to have people that support me.

Lucky that good jobs are probable.

Lucky to have never felt true need.

But that means

I cannot rest

I cannot stop the beating in my chest

until I've given absolutely everything I possibly can

to love my God and fellow man (and woman).

Lent-Day 26

Simple acts

turn holy

when done for the right reasons

when done for the right people.

I don't dislike doing dishes

especially after I've enjoyed a delicious dinner

but I don't love them either.

But standing at the sink for two hours

scrubbing away for those who are rarely served

it felt like an honor.

The excitement you get

The adrenaline kicks in

you're working FOR something

and though that pile of plates looks impossible

you keep working

working

working

because today

just one day

you want everyone in that place

to feel blessed.

served.

holy.

Lent-Day 25

They tell me

your vocation is where your greatest passion

meets the world's greatest need.

But what does that mean to me?

If my passion is to be

purposeful

useful

than it seems like I will be searching my whole life

until my breath runs out

that even as I clamor about

trying to make a difference

life passes me by

so I want to make a difference

to matter

and it's so hard to act small

when the needs of the world seem to

forever open up to you

an invitation

to change something

be someone.

So.

If I am simply a domino

to start a process long and slow

the end result I'll never know

I'm in, I'll try, but tell me where to go

to start

to begin

this maddening art of

life.

Lent-Day 24

Friendship

over time

changes

in ways we cannot deny

we change

and that metamorphosis requires

an understanding

that those close to us

can adapt

react to what is new

and still connect in some manner of truth.

when those friendships are found

when that foundation is sound

these are the people you want around

they know you.

they accept you.

friendship over time is acceptance.

we aren't the same as we were

racing sticks down the creek behind your house

but the fact that we are still friends

11 years later

creates a genuine thankfulness within me

for a friend that remains

and friends that remain--

well, they're hard to find.

Here's to you, Crodgers.

Lent-Day 23

I've often wondered

how the gut and the heart are connected

"go with your gut"

"follow your heart"

what are we speaking to

if not attempting some connection to the soul?

for when does the soul speak?

what chances do we give her voice

in the chaos of reason and logic

the systems and methods we've set up

disregarding the value

of that within ourselves

which is holy.

Lent-Day 22

Poetry
speaks to the heart
a finely sharpened knife

cutting through all the fluff

fat

garbage

permeating our lives

and getting to the real.

We've been told that our feelings are not to be trusted

that reason, rational thinking

this is the mark of wisdom

in the world we live in

but while facts show a knowledge of certain dimensions

poems speak to truth of different intentions

maybe you can tell me why the sky is blue and clouds are white

but can you capture fear in the frailty of night?

the heart speaks a language

that we have to work to understand

it's easier to just let it pass us by

emotion is betrayal, don't smile, frown, or cry

but not everything is as easily seen as the back of your own hand

and that's why poetry is more important now than ever

easy answers aren't solutions

they're rejecting the greater need

to understand our hearts

to encourage and appreciate the arts

and maybe then we can begin to start

rethinking.

rebuilding.

renewing.

Lent-Day 21

Some days

you question whether the rain

will ever end

infinite

waves of water reaching out to oblivion

the ocean

what's a raindrop in that body of water?

nothing.

yet to me

each raindrop

is a wall

between me and spring

the time when all things are born again

fresh

new

and yet

without the rain

can the flowers ever bloom?

what is spring if not for the winter rains?

Lent-Day 20

Looking out from the house on the bluff

I noticed

the lights below were gone

instead of cozy homes

warmth pouring out

I saw

empty windows

dark

cold

missing souls.

The dark waters of the ocean crept nearer

feeding on fear and the

chilliness of the night

but then

look.

a candle illumines a window

hope born anew.

Lent-Day 19

I've decided I want to live with more courage

to not shy away from the hard and difficult

but to rush to meet them head-on.

So I've started asking:

Which takes more courage?

To criticize or to work to change what is wrong?

To stop and talk to the person on the side of the road, or to drive on by?

To defend a person being attacked in a conversation, or to simply try to move past it?

Which takes more courage?

I seem to run away when things get hard

decisions cut me deep like scars

action is value, go ahead, take charge

but how could we have come so far

and still not know who we really are?

Lent-Day 18

What's an old, dry bone?

Useless. Dead.

But I think we each have some dry bones within

those pieces of us made dead from sin

they need the fresh breath of God to begin

to work as they are called to.

What if the church is a dry bone too?

A parched, bland version of what was once new

what would it take to return to what's true?

to work as we are called to.

What if our world is a hot, dry bone?

a magnificent creature ours only on loan

we can help it grow when our love is shown

the world as it should be.

Lent-Day 17

Someone needs to do a study

on the psychological revelations

of domino organization

it's fascinating.

To me, it's linear.

Left to right

line up your train

as best you can

despite any mishaps along the way.

To Kady,

it's a loose downward line

falling like rain to the ground.

Chris organizes like the treeclimber that he is--

trees on the mind.

His dominoes form tight, connected bows

all culminating in a magnificent point

(that spot high up in a tree those climbers like)

To me, that first domino is a "the."

Starting a sentence.

The first word from left to right.

Kady's first domino is that first drop of rain

you feel that seems to tell you

"Take cover. The sky is about to open up."

Chris' first domino seems like the end, at the beginning.

The top, right from the start.

The pinnacle.

Maybe that's why he wins.

Lent-Day 16

I have a little hippo

he chases me around

despite my pleas

and attempts to flee

his silliness knows no bounds

He's there for me on bad days

and when the days are good

whether I cry or smile or frown

he's always understood

One day I had to leave him

as I left town on a trip

he stood there and watched me go

a trembling in his lips

I never went on home to him

I've yet to travel back

how he fares without me

well, I'm scared to even ask

But some days when I miss him most

his voice it seems to reach me

while I left

I'm not forgotten

my hippo, he is my community.

(That's for you, 1229).

Lent-Day 15

How do you help the ones

that don't want your help?

You can try to give so much of yourself

for naught.

Because try as you might some

just want to be forgot.

But I refuse to let that happen

I want to reach across the chasm

that divides us

whatever it may be

I want to reach out with integrity

find our common humanity.

I'll admit.

Sometimes it may be hard for me to relate

at times I've been more than content to

skate by with my privilege by birth

brought into a place on earth

where I was appreciated

built up

lauded and

applauded.

And not everyone experiences that.

So while you may not want my help

I have to try

and maybe we'll never be able to tell if

I made a difference

but everyone deserves to be loved simply

for their very existence.

Lent-Day 14

I always say to dream big, act small.

And that doesn't seem like so tall an order

after all

we each are capable of small things

but what about when our heart can only focus on the big?

So today the task I've placed in front of myself

is to picture big things without the smaller pieces within

things that won't work, can't be without

like sewing a quilt without a needle and pin.

What's a rainbow, without millions of tiny droplets of water

a beach, without each grain of sand?

What's a house without the bricks that built it

a skin cell, if not part of a hand?

What's a flock of geese without a "V"?

hundreds gathered in unity

wings beating in harmony

what's a person without community

a lonely sailor lost at sea

a fish without a school

without the place it needs to be

a snowflake carries exquisite beauty

unique, perfect in its purity

but a snowflake alone cannot cover the ground

giving us the muffled tranquility of winter sounds

how do you start a fire without the kindling?

you can't have a forest without a tree

how can you dance without learning the steps?

you can't appreciate the colors of fall without seeing each turning leaf.

one rock can cause the water to ripple

but perhaps many rocks can cause a wave

my one small voice grows stronger

flanked by a chorus of change.

Lent-Day 13

Some days I wake up

and miss the mountains

rising up majestically

collecting my constantly restless spirit

in their expansive arms

I miss the trees

the shapes made from groves and clusters

green, tan, white

I play guess who with the faces on the mountainside.

I miss blue skies

somehow rendered a deeper blue

by the snow on the ground

and the chill in the air

my lungs sting with the breath inwards

but I feel so alive.

Lent-Day 12

The past has shaped you

not defined you

so don't look back and feel so blue

you can rue the mistakes

but not who they have shaped

You have purpose.

a future

a world of potential

so don't sit back and focus on flaws

know that God has a plan for us all.

Lent-Day 11

This one is for the youth group here at First Pres Newport. I mean it with all the love and hope I can offer. This is not directed at anyone in particular; think of it more as a call to the whole group to draw together.

it begins with respect

a recognition that anyone else's voice

carries a value equal to yours

that despite the constant lure

to draw attention to yourself

there is a time and a place

and this is a sacred space

for sharing

open to one another

compassionate

sisters and brothers

that care

your pain is my pain

your joy is my joy

community

this is yours

to shape and mold

but you have to trust

to hold each other as

special

unique

when you feel attacked

you turn the other cheek

the language and tone must be

tranquility

not anger

not frustration

no matter the situation

each person in that circle has to be willing to look around

at every other person there

and see a beloved child of God

and they deserve your ears

your silence

your heart

and your respect.

Lent-Day 10

I still remember the day

(maybe I was around 8)

my parents discovered the star i had

drawn, even etched

into the end table.

"Luke, did you do this?"

Deny it.

But they knew.

And while we laugh and joke about it now

I can still feel the humiliation and

disappointment I experienced when they

exposed my lie.

Not maliciously

but pulling a band-aid off hurts whether

the wound is real or not.

it felt so grown up

sitting down to discuss what would happen next

for for all the wrong reasons

Because I had ruined a perfectly good end table

I would buy a new one with my own money.

And while I have no idea whether my

parents actually ever planned to uphold that punishment

the fear

sadness

disappointment

I felt as I researched new end tables

is something I can still grasp.

Though we may disappoint those that believe in us

and though we may have to learn lessons on the way

we will mess up

but we are nudged back onto course

forgiven and loved.

Lent-Day 9

"The strength of a person's virtue should not be measured by their special exertions, but by their habitual acts." --Blaise Pascal

To follow Christ

is from from a one-time deal

a prayer time at every meal

a commitment to never kill or steal

To follow Christ

goes beyond the extraordinary

it is a daily burden to carry

it's more of the pit and less of the cherry

To follow Christ

requires a piece of sacrifice

it's more than simply being nice

we say we're willing, but what's the price?

To follow Christ

we must commit in every single thing we do

that after each long day is through

every act was made in the image of You.

Lent-Day 8

Wouldn't it just be easier

if God left me a road map for my life?

Not all the answers, sure, but hints

whenever I lose direction?

Wouldn't it just be easier

if the answer to solving

world hunger, homelessness, and aids

was a formula laid out for us to follow?
You have to at least work a little

to make a formula work.

Yet, as I'm asking these questions

frustrated with my own free will

I feel rising over me a sense of peace.

Freedom.

There are

no wrong steps

no failed enterprises

no miscalculations

on this journey,

as long as you're trying

pushing forward

on

on

on

to whatever promised land

we find on the other side of the river.

Lent-Day 7

As I opened the letter

my heart skipped a beat

I'd seen who it was from

I started to read

Congratulations, it said, as the letter began

you are accepted, my very good man

we'd like you to come to our part of the land

and join our seminary family

the news was expected

I'd hoped for as much

but I felt such a touch of

excitement and purpose as I scanned through that letter.

and then

were those tears in my eyes as I folded it up and put it away?

or had that cold blast of wind

caught me at that very moment

to make my eyes water?

Lent-Day 6

There's a phrase in writing

we call it the "pregnant pause"

that moment before the excitement begins

the anticipation sinking in

one can sense the building suspense

as no one knows when the pause will end

so tick tick you watch the clock

as time keeps marching onward

you try to hide and keep inside your heart

(but it pounds away like the Pacific on the ocean sands)

when will it stop? how will it end?

the pregnant pause it lingers

i think it waits until it wraps each person round its finger.

but what if the pause is held too long?

you start to wonder if something went wrong

the action was coming

the moment was near

why did the build-up disappear?

and you wind up in the place you have always feared

paused without direction.

Lent-Day 5

Promises

What's a word worth?

garbage, really

we throw them out

with candy wrappers and old tires

meaningless

in the magnitude of our

oh-so-important lives

we toss them around

careless as to their power

to heal

to resurrect

to hurt

to kill

words have an ability

we never quite believe

the substance they carry

is something we just can't see

but one's word is

dedication

faithfulness

integrity

they measure a person

some words remain.

as do those that speak them.

some promises are still unbroken.

"I will never forsake you."

Lent-Day 4

I'm searching for signs

as I'm writing my rhymes

spending valuable time

seeking the divine

I find Him sometimes not where I'd think

in places where righteous ones dare not to sink

in bars

in gutters

with backpacks and shopping carts full of

granola bars and clutter

most would deem dirty.

yesterday I saw Her right where I expected

drifting low on a cloud over the Pacific

light radiating forth in beams no darkness could overcome

I stopped for a moment to whisper hello.

weeks go by

and I'm still searching

wrapped up in pursuit of that wholly divine

The search will continue

until my hair turns gray and the lines on my face

grow deeper

somehow, wiser

knowing that no matter how long I search

answers will forever elude me.

Lent-Day 3

Last night

the house shook

the rain battering the roof

a chorus of pebbles on the shingles

the windows bowing in and out

as my reflection grows and shrinks

grows and shrinks

the wind finds instruments in the

crevices of the house

maracas in the bathroom fan

a low mournful note over the exhaust pipe

soft hissing through the window screen

the song of the storm isn't scary

its notes and rhythm guide me to sleep

held in the arms of something more powerful

stronger than I can know or comprehend

held in the presence

buoyed by the Spirit

small.

tiny.

beloved.

Lent-Day 2

The day is coming

the spring of the soul

the day when the world

wakes up

reborn

anew

the day when things return

to the way they ought to be

to shalom

it will be a day of peace

justice harmony

a day when we no longer recognize separations

but see ourselves as the interconnected web

that we are

that day is coming

like the lightning breaking forth from the

darkness of thunder clouds

it shall come

hope

caught in a burst of light.

Lent-Day 1

What is brokenness?

Brokenness is temporary

a short term short sighted problem

that will be reconciled

what is wrong will become right

dreams shattered in the darkness of despair

will be reconstructed piece by piece

like a mirror holding the image of who we really are

what is brokenness?

brokenness is the doubt in each of our heads and hearts

that says we aren't good enough

strong enough

smart enough

to make a difference.

brokenness is the disbelief that we are

created

beloved

children of God

made exactly who we are.

for purpose

brokenness is a separation from purpose

our purpose

God's purpose.

That purpose is reconciliation.

The darkness is greatest before the dawn.

But daylight is coming.

Lent

Lent

Sacrifice

What to give up?

Take on?

In the season of fasting

what is my fast?

what is my gift?

Am I willing to risk

what comes first to mind?

The things that take up too much time

too many hours

stretching into days

patterns and behaviors

departures from sacred ways

40 days of discipline

am I up to the task?

I've never tried before

Never had this cross on my forehead before

but I feel called

I may not succeed

but I will try.

Today begins Lent, and as I sat in church today at the noontime service, for the first time I felt led to think about what I would do differently in Lent this year. Past years, I haven't done anything...it was never a tradition for me growing up, and I just never really got on board. But today, I sat there, thinking through things I could do differently...and while lots of people give things up for Lent, the idea of sacrifice, I like more the idea of adopting a new discipline or practice. I waste many of my mornings, and I've written on this blog just twice since my YAV year ended. I've written very little in terms of poetry that I haven't written on the blog, and I said to myself, "You need to write more. It was important to you."

So I'm going to write each of the next 40 days. Good, bad, ugly, I want to turn my writing into a discipline of sorts...expressing myself as I can. Some days I may read lenten texts or devotionals to reflect on, others I may just write what is on my mind. But for 40 days, I am going to write.

A Poem in Defense

it's a trend these days

it seems all the rage

to bash on the church

and her religious ways

give me jesus not religion

the trendy they clamor

but jesus said the church was his bride

so put your hand over your mouth

and pull that log out of your eye

if the church is Jesus' bride

don't you think you should try to

help it

shape it

instead of betraying it?

sure she's got her issues

I don't deny that

it's a true fact

that her pews and aisles are jam-packed

with hypocrites

liars.

impure hearts and

idolaters.

But isn't that exactly where they (we) need to be?

so maybe mother church,

"religion" if you will

seems washed up and over the hill

to young people, like you and me

we don't want to deal with that kind of hypocrisy

when really all we want is community

and freedom to help others in tune with our beliefs.

So you say mother church isn't meeting your needs

well change it.

I dare you.

Make it real.

relevant.

revelatory.

rampant.

resurrective.

reconciliatory.

rambunctious.

revolutionary.

you. me.

we are the church.

we.