We were entangled by our thoughts and cares
Together, united – you showed up without question, constantly there
You swept up my mess of pain and tears
That manifested from the darkness of the past two years
You allowed me to cry and heal every day
By just being you, like an angel sent my way
How do I repay this beautiful soul, this treasure of a friend?
Lately I’ve been aloof, each day from start to end
I’ve been watching us ravel away, slowly, thread by the thread
I feel helpless, and honestly, absolute dread
How can this be? Me? The one unthreading our strands?
Carelessly unwinding the tiny pieces woven together, with my own hands
Watching the clock tick away, I wish somehow you’ll stay
I feel so faded, tangled, alone, astray
I pray, I pray, some day the grace you’ve offered me
Will be sent back to you, more vast than any sea
Truly a sister, my friend, I miss you
The Tapatio and lime to my Mexican stew
This poem is dedicated to my best friend. Pretty sure she knows who she is. I love you.
Sometimes I feel like redemption stories do more harm than good. Sure the Bible is all about redemption. The gospel is a story of how Jesus redeems his people from the pit and gives them new life and a new hope that is sealed. Yet, the Bible is also laden with stories that are difficult to stomach without that comforting theme of redemption woven in.
There are many stories in my own life that aren’t in a phase of redemption. Some chapters are barren and cold, and still in the dead of winter. I’d like to hear all kinds of stories from believers, not just the warm and fuzzies, much like I’d rather hear about the Bible in its entirety, not just a “verse of the day” to get my quick spiritual fix.
Testimonies might be warm and fuzzy, but likely it’s not that that person found Jesus and now their life is perfect. In fact, their life might be more difficult. But that’s WHY I think Jesus is so cool. He makes every moment worth it. The moments when we sing on hilltops and the scary, dark pits we fall into and wonder how we’ll climb out of.
Life is crazy and messy. It’s hard. And sometimes slapping a bible verse on complex questions just won’t do. I don’t really have a point to this random tangent. Just sharing some thoughts on a platform where I probably shouldn’t.
On a lighter note, I think most people will be excited to know that my new favorite acronym of the week is PTL (praise the Lord) which has quickly replaced my former one,”on fleek.” Thanks to my cute friend Kayleen for keeping me in the Christian acronym loop.
So, I may be a little biased, because I think my brother is the coolest guy in the world. But I think you’ll end up in my same biased boat after you surf through this amazing piece of writing he composed.
My brother’s friend (anonymous) is a great guy. He has wanted to meet a great girl for quite awhile. So, he decided to join Match.com. But the infamous “about me” intro wouldn’t write itself. He took a stab at it, but it wasn’t quite right. It was just like all the other intros out there: trying to use catchy words to describe himself, somehow trying to sum up his awesomeness in just a few sentences.
Please read on to find the most interesing, crazy, unconventional Match.com profile intro ever written. (At least I think so.)
What the friend first wrote:
Insert cool profile intro here.
What my brother wrote:
When I was a small boy I became lost in the pines. I went hunting for snails, skipping along a disheveled rock path away from the safety and warmth of my campsite. In my youthful haste, I stumbled over a rotted log shaped like Italy (or maybe Argentina, I do not have great memory for log shapes any more these days). This country-shaped log exaggerated my youthful forward momentum and dashed me headlong against the stones. I could not bring my hands up quick enough. The blood was instantaneous. Where was it coming from? It did not matter, all was grey, then black…
I awoke in an eyrie. Mother, as I came to know her, was looking at me mawkishly. I am certain, as I reflect back on things, that she thought I would die before I learned to fly. But she did not give up on me. Mother was an eagle. Not in the figurative sense. She picked me off the rocks like so much dead carrion, but when she saw I still had life in me she took me as her own. Her strange featherless boy. The years passed. I will spare you the details. My brothers and sisters grew large and took to the heavens. I remained in the nest. I was sure I would die on that cliff face, 1400 meters above wherever. Mother became ill. She could no longer forage for grubs and field mice. I became emaciated and withered alongside Mother. I awoke one morning with the wind blowing a gale unlike any before (the wind on that cliff always blew, was my constant friend, telling me stories and laughing as it tore through the cliff scrub and rock crags). The wind spoke to me again that day. It said “you must take flight, your Mother is dying, and you must take flight.” I looked to Mother and saw she was crying. I stood up and placed my foot over the edge of the nest onto the lip of the cliff, I took a deep breath, then another, tilted my head heavenward to feel the brilliant sun on my face, spread my arms, and leapt…
And then I flew to Reno, and I’d really like to meet a nice girl so I hope you are her. Let’s fly together, huh? Sounds like fun.
What do you think? Would you date a guy with this story as his profile intro? 🙂
It’s pulsing through my veins. I was born into it. Expected to be someone. To have a purpose.
I can’t tell whether it has taken form as my own voice or if it has always echoed in the world around me – “you must have a purpose.” Either way, it’s loud, and it lives.
Purpose, purpose, purpose. I am driven to fulfill it. Each time I miss the mark, I fall. I get bent and bruised. But I don’t break.
My last fall was a bad one. I’ve yet to recover. I’m floating in white space, hoping desperately for someone to connect the dots. I can’t even find the dots.
My feet know no route.
People ask me what I want to do with my life. I usually make up an answer I think they’ll want to hear.
Always searching for the next hero. Always seeking a new, extraordinary story. Our society just wants a savior. I have already found mine. And although I have no purpose and I’m not a hero, I’m learning that “real life” is not about creating our own empire, it’s about helping those in shacks. It’s not about storing up treasures, it’s about giving of ourselves even when we have nothing left to give.
I’m without purpose, and it has never been more valuable to me. It makes me appreciate the ordinary. It makes me rejoice in the simple. It forces me to be content with the present. That’s all we really have.
Sometimes truth is clothed in thorns
Your heart gets overtaken, tattered and torn
Sometimes life doesn’t go according to plan
What you thought you had, no longer stands
When everything around you is ripped away
What is it that will make you stay?
Is it integrity or heart or internal drive?
Is it your own source of power that will make you thrive?
Not for me, not for this woman
It’s Jesus that’s alive, it’s Him who lives within
I can’t stand on my own two feet
They wobble, they shake, they fall, I am beat
Lord lift me up – give me clarity
Open my eyes that are blind, help me see
I never had it
all figured out
I know that now, and I want to shout!
You and Your plans will always stand
It’s You who makes me steadfast, by Your right hand
I will lean on You in this pain
I will trust that only in Christ there is gain
There’s no profit in my own motives and desires
Only the Lord knows how my future transpires
I trust in you. I trust in you my God.
I lay my head down and my hands applaud
I’ll clap, I’ll sing, I’ll rejoice in You
For in the end, and the beginning, You were always true
For those of you who don’t know what I do with my life, I spend my Monday-Fridays working for an established art and craft publishing firm called Stampington & Company. Among many other things, I manage their blog Somerset Place. One fine day while I was scrolling through an alarming amount of “selfies” on Instagram during my break, a light bulb flickered on in my brain.
“We should do a ‘selfie’ challenge!”
As you can see above, I’ve tried my crack at the ubiquitous “selfie” shot…now I want you to join me! Winners have the chance of being published in one of our top-selling magazines.
Read the post here for more details. Good luck if you enter!