The Lily and the Rug

Some days,

I think you are
a vased lily set
on a corner table
and I am
a patterned rug
beneath you.

I am hoping that
someday,
a cat will brush you,
an arm will nudge you
or the quaking earth
will upheave you.
Your white blossoms
and fertile water will spill
over the table's lip
onto me.

It's not that
I wish you turmoil:
I just want you
as a rain of flowers,
however unexpected.

This poem © Gabriel Gadfly.

Like a catfish dancin' on the end of my line.

This is what I've been waiting for. I remember when we bought the couch that I am sitting on - when we put it in the living room of my old home. That was something like 8 years ago, and now I am lounging in the midst of a radically different family situation. The dynamic might have been a bit off the last couple of days but, in this exact moment, time has stopped: Emily and Meghan are on the floor in front of the fireplace petting Peanut; I can smell the cooling coffee; the sound of my mother doing the dishes is in my eardrum colliding with the Springsteen that Joe put in my Itunes. I need to go take a shower so that we can begin our Thanksgiving festivities, but I am afraid to leave my seat and set time back in motion.

I'll just need a minute to swallow the lump in my throat.

Turned Around

Here is the latter part of an NPR article about why human beings cannot walk in a straight line for an extended period of time while blind-folded. This article seems to say something about the human heart as well. Where do we end up if we do not look to Christ as our "corrective" or "external focal point"? If an analogy is to be drawn, I would say that we end up exactly where we started - nowhere.

"Humans, apparently, slip into circles when we can't see an external focal point, like a mountain top, a sun, a moon. Without a corrective, our insides take over and there’s something inside us that won't stay straight.

In our radio broadcast, Jan and I explore (just hit the "Listen" button on this page) possible explanations for this tendency to slip into turns. Maybe, I suggest, this is a form of left or right handedness where one side dominates the other? Or maybe this is a reflection of our left and right brains spitting out different levels of dopamine? Or maybe it's stupidly simple: Most of us have slightly different sized legs or slightly stronger appendages on one side and this little difference, over enough steps, mounts up?

Wrong, wrong and wrong, Jan says. He's tested all three propositions (the radio story describes the details) and didn't get the predicted results. There is, apparently, no single explanation for this phenomenon. He is working on a multi-causal theory.

So like walking in circles, we finish where we started: with Asa Schaeffer's very simple field studies, his graceful pencil lines (especially when our animator Benjamin Arthur gives them beautiful motion) posing the puzzle: How can we be turning and turning and not know it?"

The blue box.

The air was still tonight. I danced in the street wearing a zip-up hoodie and a flannel and if I had closed my eyes I might have been moving my feet over pavement 1000 miles north.

What makes a place? What combination of people and buildings give an atmosphere? Am I really living somewhere that people write songs about? Mayer sings, "I don't think I'm gonna go to LA anymore," and I realize Johnny has that option. He is a real person, you know, he makes real decisions. He'll probably come to LA though.

Life moves a little more quickly when there are people in it. Community does something to the look of it - like on Saturday when I spent time just being with people. I mean that literally, we just were, and I think that it was my favorite. Find me a category and I'll give that adjective a noun. When I think about the next couple years I am reminded of how small I am. I am not the main character - I am actually somewhat of an antagonist. He is greater than I. But I hope that I can spend the next couple - or maybe the rest of - my years being comfortable with people the way I was on Saturday. On Saturday I think I was 1000 miles north.

All the vampires walkin' through the valley.

I am very, very behind in Russian but it is being overshadowed by the rest of my life. This isn't good. (This space was meant to have the Russian word for "bad" but Blogger sucks). Oh Lord, please give my professor a merciful heart this week. Tomorrow I will sing a new song!

To excitement for "what is to come", to acceptance for what the Lord has in store.

To bed for this rather academically-concerned child of the Most High.

To running two miles with this in one's head:

She's a good girl, loves her mama

Loves Jesus, and America too

She's a good girl, crazy 'bout Elvis

Loves horses and her boyfriend too

It's a long day livin' in Reseda

There's a freeway runnin' through the yard
And I'm a bad boy cause I don't even miss her

I'm a bad boy for breakin' her heart.

Oh November.

I am munching on cheerios in class and

I am disappointed. I received an 86 on my Biblical Interpretation and Spiritual Formation midterm. I just want to take this moment to express how much I loathe B's. I studied for hours for this exam and it is frustrating that there was so much room for improvement.

I know, I know. I should be thankful. We are about to spend time in prayer in class so perhaps I will take this time to ask the Lord to change my heart. I need an attitude adjustment.

Encouragement

I know some really wonderful, extremely encouraging people:

1. I spoke with my friend Dean on the phone earlier today and at the end of our conversation he gave me this brief and sage advice:

(paraphrased)

"There are essentially two things that we must remember as Christians: Truth and Love. We are able to love because we are under the grace of God."

So we must understand and remember grace. That we are under grace is the truth, and that we love is evidence of grace. In order to love we must share the truth: That Christ died the death we deserve, making us righteous and allowing us relationship with the God of the universe.

Something along those lines.

2. I skyped my dear friend Britt yesterday and she and I discussed what it is to live a righteous life. We reminded each other of the basics. She reminded me of the power of prayer and the importance of grace and truth. Britt is one of those people who knows how to look for truth. Watching her find it was something that strengthened my faith.

3. The Lord is putting people in my life here at Biola who are gifted in encouragement. I'll just leave that there.

Abrupt is so in. Didn't you hear?

I have a friend in Jesus

I am starting to understand that old hymn. This morning, as read through John 14 and 15 I begin to remember, or perhaps for the first time comprehend, that I can relate to Jesus as a friend. I am beginning to realize that relationship with him is not purely servitude (I do not wish to blaspheme: I am a servant of the Lord, there is no question) but has an element of give and take.

"I no longer call you servants because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have called you my friends, for everything I have learned from my Father I have made known to you. You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit - fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. This is my command: Love each other." John 15:15-17

The implications of this is huge, even if not beyond the confines of my mind or my heart.

Had I mentioned that I am back to the basics?

Looking forward, looking back.

How clearly does the Lord provide in times of need. How great and magnificent is His power. Listening to Dr. Don A. Carson on Friday night and then again this morning has had a tremendous impact on my soul. Not only is he a renowned author, trusted theologian, and a clearly anointed man of God, but I know absolutely nothing of his personality. I could listen to this man and feel safe and nourished: I was fed for the first time in many, many months. Praise God for provision.

Today was a good day spent with good company. Joel was kind enough to help me with scheduling and sorting out the mess of transfer-credit-paperwork and Melody sweetly shared with me some of her story. I like these people. I fully expect that my plan for their lives will come to fruition (see conversation had at Pick Up Stix).

Also, the above photo spoke to me. It is of the sky before Hurricane Katrina hit. Incredibly beautiful, fantastic even, but the source of so much pain and suffering. Perhaps there is a metaphor to be had.

This morning (afternoon), during the worship at the end of church, I prayed acknowledgement to God that He will not forsake me. I know this; I learn this over, and over again. But to say it out loud is extremely comforting and has a tremendous impact on my heart and mind. It also helps me to trust that God will provide. Because He will. He will.

"Cast your cares on the Lord

and he will sustain you;

he will never let the righteous fall.

But you, O God, will bring down the wicked

into the pit of corruption;

bloodthirsty and decietful men

will not live out half their days.

But as for me, I trust in you."

Psalm 55:22-23

One of these mornings

There is just something about being in California that is easily forgotten and a shock when remembered. I can’t exactly put my finger on it, though it is akin to dreaming that you are the subject of a song. A vivid dream. I have a dream? A dream is a wish your heart makes.

“Going out to California / Gonna let the water warm my clothes”

There are a few people whom I miss very much right now. I would be happy to simply be in the presence of these people. You know me. Well, maybe you don’t: I don’t like solitude. I like solitude even less than I like cantaloupe. And, oh, do I loathe cantaloupe.

Check out this band. “The Story I heard” is my new jam.

I can’t seem to focus. Maybe one day I’ll put my money where my mouth is and write something thought out and complete. What is it that I want to do? Write? Cue skeptical looks from the jury. Nudge whoever is beside you and raise your eyebrows. I know, I know! I don’t read or write nearly enough. I am out of practice. Also, I am a bit lazy.

And since we are being honest with each other I should tell you: As I was writing the last sentence of the last paragraph I accidentally wrote “lonely” instead of “lazy”. Any of you psych majors want to weigh in? Oh, don’t bother. We all know.