Everything is Illuminated

Sometimes I,
I think I've grown up, I,
I think know more, I,
I think it's all true.

Sometimes I,
I don't care.

Sometimes I, I consider
the passing of time.
How the sunflowers don't shine
after five in the winter

And I wonder, I, I wonder
where I might find
myself at five in the summer.

I'll be there afore I know it,
I know I will be.

I think, gee.
I think me oh my oh me me me.

I think, I,
I think what should I do?
How do I save these passing seconds
flying by me without recollection
they'll all slip past and I'll lose them all I,
I will, I know it.

Stop.

The sunflowers won't shine past five.
They've burned hard and they've burned warm.
They wither as they weather the storm.
Their clay pots shatter dust to dust
and drift away on sweet warm winds,
and never know they've been alive.
They can't hold all that color in.

Me in my steel pot, let it rust.
Oh color mine, don't hold me in.
I'll never drink all of a sky so blue.
Live life or life will live you.

11/15

and, i think, this is how i know

so i'm leaving on a jetplane,


don't know when i'll be back again.



and they will see us waving from such great heights,


"come down now," they'll say . . .




but we'll stay.

8/31

i was a
prophet, now i

i make roadsigns
for a living.

"watch out world,
here you come"

no turning back,
no turning back.

he saw shapes
in the clouds.

if only to
know there, here.

my bones itch
to go broke.

Bonita

I've been home from Mexico for two days.

I don't know what it is about a week in a foreign country that has so inspired me anew to consider all the possibilities standing before me . . .
waiting . . .

A career, a family, a home

What do I want? When do I want it? Where do I want it?

It's finally okay for me to ask those things. I've finally let go of needing them . . . demanding them. I finally embraced a career, a family, a home, and a million other things the American dream takes for granted as only blessings . . . and now am finally embracing them as blessings that might have been intended for me afterall.

So what is right for me?

6 Go to the ant, you sluggard;
consider its ways and be wise!

7 It has no commander,
no overseer or ruler,

8 yet it stores its provisions in summer
and gathers its food at harvest.

In Proverbs 6, the ant simply is. It doesn't dwell day after day on the positives and negatives, the what-ifs and should-haves. It does what it knows how. It brings glory to is Maker by fulfilling its purpose: to do what makes sense. To live as it knows life.

With each day, I feel more certain about what makes sense.
I think that might mean that it's all getting a little closer.

And still yes, in a sense, I'm more scared than ever . . . and I think that's because I know myself more. And am realizing how little I know.

It's a beautiful thing . . . for every new thing I learn to learn of another thing I don't know. Maybe will never know.


Life is far from simple. Our faith is far from simple.
But, still, it isn't.


And in a sense, I'm more sure than ever . . . and I think that's only by faith.




Oh for grace to trust Him more.

Substitute Teaching

Eighth grade classroom drama.
This was me once.

Arkansas juvenile poverty
in their over-sized hand-me-downs and their
high-waters with torn knees and their
greased hair and dirty mouths.

I've never known need.

My burning throat from
raised voice over their
eighth grade classroom drama
rasps that they'll never listen to me.

Comparing stories of their
pre-bell fistfights and their
jr. prom late nights and they're
all caught in themselves.

We all know need.

So I go on substitute teaching.

A whole year has passed

and here I am again.
I'm in that same broken place with that same devastating, sickening sin.
I'm getting nowhere.

Nothing has changed.

I can be so full of myself . . . to think that I've come so far . . .
To claim so joyously that a year and a half ago I was a completely different person.

How You love me, . . . Lord . . . I don't think I will ever know.


This is the only real difference, I'm sure:
A year and a half later, I know that You love me.

Somehow, someway, Your grace has opened my eyes to a small part of what You've always seen
Always known
And I hate it

But somehow, someway
You love it.

You love me


And that's enough.

Another New Year

In 2007 I hope to read more books
To spend more time in creation
Dancing
Playing basketball, however horribly

And to smile more often

In 2007 I hope to be more punctual
And more dependable

I hope to fill my life with people I respect
And to filter out the values and priorities of modern American culture
In favor of the things of God

I hope to take myself a lot less seriously

I hope to speak less and listen more

I hope to learn the value of simplicity, silence, and spontenaiety

And to write as one with honest struggles
Rather than one with aspirations of inspiration

I hope finally to turn my focus outside of myself
And to find strength and purpose for all of these things
And for my entire life
In the joy of brokeness in Jesus Christ

One year ago today I resolved these things.
One year later, I think I may have held true to each of them.

One year later, I don't have words to praise the Father for what He has done.

I'm not who I was.

And so, in 2008 . . .
I would like to wear a lot less make up
If any at all

I hope to wake earlier
And to see more sunrises

I would like to sew more of my own clothes
And I would like to start a garden

I want to write to say something
I want to trust more
I want to give more

I hope to understand humility
To grow to live a life of encouragement
And to listen

To care after what I have been given
To seek with all that I am that my eyes be opened wider

To speak my mind with wisdom
To be thoughtful with purpose

And to find what I am so desperate for

To find trust in my Abba.