something out there

Sometimes I don’t feel like I know what the word love even means. Is it even a word? Or is it a whisper? Something we hear quietly calling our name in the deep and the dark? Something we find when we least expect it; when we let the noise around us dissipate into blankness and hear the stillness of our hearts speak?

What does it mean to love one another?

Is love an action; a feeling? Is it something I do; what I say? Is it a thought process? Is it an inevitability of falling or is it a choice?

In the end, all I know is that I know nothing. And I think that maybe that’s what love is all about. It’s about realizing that, though you yourself are not less, there are things out there that are much bigger and greater and grander than you; things you don’t always need to put a finger on or understand.

I think love starts with humility. It is that little pinch of pain you feel when you bite your tongue. It’s the friction that comes from swallowing your pride. It’s the resistance in your heart when you choose to forgive. It’s a lot of different things. We don’t have to define it; we don’t have to put it in a box.

Because if God is love and God is an incomprehensible being, more than we could ever even think to imagine, then isn’t love more than we could hope it to be as well? Isn't it bigger than all of our ideas about what it should be?

For me, there is comfort in that; comfort that there is something covering me that is bigger than myself. God and love are things that are bigger than my thoughts could ever attempt to wrap themselves around.

Sometimes I look up at the night sky and take in the moon and stars and the blue-blackness and I think about how big it all is, but it doesn’t make me feel small. No, I look up at all that vastness and I just think about how big it is, and how the God that created all that beauty and all that wonder made me too.

And then I think about how even when He has all of that, even when He has the sun and the moon and the stars and the sky, He still chooses me. I mean how crazy is that? A God who has everything, who created everything, who created all these beautiful mysterious things also chose to create me and to love me.

But still, I don’t feel small. I don’t feel big either. I just feel ... loved.

And I can’t explain it and I can’t trace it out. I just know it. I know that I am loved beyond measure. And I know all of this because the stars and the moon and the blue-black sky tell me so. And so no matter where I go, no matter what land I find myself in, all I have to do is look up at the moon and the stars, or the rivers and the mountains, or the sun and the flowers, or the valleys and the snow, and all of it reminds me that I am loved.

Moment by moment, God reveals more of what love is. Each day I am stretched and broken and renewed. Each day I am tested. And each day I come closer to understanding how I can help others to see the stars and the moon and the blue-black sky the way I do. How they can look at these big things and still see more. I mess up a lot. Sometimes there are clouds and they block the light of the stars. But I know that God can work with that. Just because there are clouds one night doesn’t mean the stars aren’t there. And it definitely doesn’t mean that God stops the dusk from arriving the next night. He gives the stars another chance. And heck, clouds don't interfere with the sun, they just make for a beautiful sunset.

So I hope that I can keep growing to be the kind of person who lives in such a way that doesn’t make others feel small, or even big, but just that I make them feel loved. That people would be able to look at me, a part of God’s creation, and see Him and feel His love.

That’s all I really want.

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"I don't think I'd pride myself in being addicted to anything. Not sugar, or coffee, or chocolate, or love. But maybe, I'd humble myself and say that I am absolutely addicted to Jesus. I can't survive without Him. I need Him the minute I wake up until the minute I go to bed and He is the only reason that I sleep well at night. He sustains me; lifts me up when I am low and brings me down when I am strung too high. He's everything I think about and everything I do is based on my need for Him. I don't want to pride myself in being an addict, but I'll admit to the fact that I desperately need Jesus. I'd die without Him. He's not a drug, and I am not His slave. But heaven knows I could never choose not to follow Him. Not after meeting Him, not after being found by Him. Not after learning to actually live. I do confess that I need Jesus, and of that I am not ashamed."

forest fires

Someday we’ll see the fire burning,

signals like smoke, rising in the air,

telling all about the rescue

we’ve found here.

And we’ll even see it

and marvel

at how such a small fire

could spread and light

an entire forest,

and bring it to life;

shadows dancing behind branches.

We won’t believe that

we lit that fire ourselves;

that we kindled it

and watched it grow,

and that as it grew

it took more and more weight,

but never broke.

How could a few simple people

create such brilliance?

How could one God

speak an entire earth into being,

where two hearts

would be fused together

like one,

underneath the leaves

of trees.

We’ll stand there,

arms around ourselves;

around each other,

and smile;

we made it.

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"Sometimes we judge others most harshly for the sins we see in ourselves; we think that by revealing that sin in others, we won’t feel so badly about the wretchedness we see in our own hearts. But maybe in learning to love others, we could also learn to love ourselves. Maybe there is this wonderful cycle of love that we are meant to repeat, over and over, until all the world is loved and all the world is forgiven.” 

hiccups of the heart

There is this completion found 

in a four-lettered word;

A knowingness,

A realization.

Tempting to be held,

wishing to be heard,

yet forsaken.

 

It is here:

above us now,

floating in this space we

knew was there;

space we knew to fill,

but refused.

So we are here,

standing;

arms at sides,

not reaching out.

For there is something between us

and we are not willing

to climb the rails,

to board the train to completion.

We were syndicates once,

way back when;

fighting for the same cause. But 

now we’re soldiers

made of rock,

and steel,

and old ideas;

statues within ourselves.

There is a way to be known;

there is a road to completion.

Four letters get in the way:

love, unrequited;

and fear of repetition.

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blind hope

The words come out:

said like staring into dark while

blind; pretending to see.

You’re saying that she’s wrong,

but you don’t know how deep

she’s dug

to get to the bottom

of hope.

This is where she closes in,

shuts her eyes to the noise

between the light of

dawn and day.

Says she’s blind, but she sees.

She’s been here before,

eyes adjusted

looking into a darkness known;

realized;

familiar.

Your secrets are safe with her so

don’t race your heart, love,

this is how she sings

her songs.

For here freedom rings out like a melody,

bells - telling us of how she

found hope amidst cloudiness;

clarity in despair.
Lights in dark places; fading
shapes we try to hold on to.

And you`re wandering, looking

for her

in every possible disguise.

But we all live,

and hope,

and dream for this.

We love,

and fight,

and we die for this.

So she wedges in a little more,

lips parted,

wondering how to voice these calms.

And you’re coming to, so slowly;

entering  into a blind awakening.

There is vision in blindness.

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Fear Not?