journal entry #1

Today I went for a bike ride for the first time in quite a while. I just finished the first chapter in the book Tiffany suggested called "crazy love", the chapter was called "stop praying." One of the first things that caught my attention (other then the insane title of the chapter) was when the author refered to praying by saying "stop talking at God." To often thats what I do, I talk at God waiting for him to respond in a huge booming voice from some dark cloud in the sky. I don't want to imply that He can't do that cause I know he can...I just think He wants me to hear Him in the still small voice first, just to make sure I'm listening closely and He has my full attention.

While I was on my bike I focused on the main idea of the chapter: "stop and think" I often accuse myself of "thinking to much" but I no longer think I think enough. I think my problem is that I think to much about things that don't matter, at least not in the sense of the way I'm thinking about them...that isn't vy clear...the way I'm thinking about them isn't the right way and therefore it is needless thought on nothing...that's a lil better. so I just let my thoughts dwell on Gods amazing creation and the love He shows to me through it. Three things stuck out to me as I rode down the road...birds, grass, and mud. They seem a bit random but like I said I let my thoughts wonder free.

you know birds are truly amazing. I saw a hawk while riding...it was just floating in the air without any effort at all, as if everything should be able to cause it was just so easy. I've always wanted to fly, so trust me, I know for a fact that it's far from easy...for me...
God created that bird just the right way...
every muscle where it needs to be
every bone constructed in a unique way
every feather put exactly in place
everything was just right to allow the hawk to float and soar into the sky, like only hawks can.
and grass, such a common thing, seen everywhere...yet God made it for a specific reason and purpose, every blade of grass has its purpose. whether that be to feed an animal or simply to cushion our feet. Even something as small and insignificant as grass has a purpose...so who am I to question God on my purpose??? It's as if I assumed God gave everything in the world a purpose but forgot about me. as if He would skip over me, the one He sent His only son to die a brutal and unbelievable death for, the one He loves so deeply He wants to show it to me everyday in my every day life through creation and His unbelievable creativity, to give something like grass a purpose instead.
Mud...when I think of mud I think of something that's a "mess"...but without it there isn't any plants. I just realized how awesome an illistration mud is. It's dirty and a mess, yet without it nothing grows, much like me. Troubles, trials, temptations, all of them are "dirty" and make a "mess" of my life, but without them I wouldn't grow because I would be content with where and what I am.

Contentment can easily become evil in my opinion. Contentment limits me, it doesn't allow me to go beyond what I think....which is where God is-beyond any limit I could possibly imagine.
watch out for contentment! Enjoy and look for Hods daily show of love to me through His amazing creation.

thoughts...:

why are things created with defects such as a bird which can't fly or a person who is mentally or physically handicapped?

the essence of rain

the rain falls down around me
it has a sad and happy effect on me all at the same time
the coolness of its touch on my skin and face feel shocking and refreshing...
i am refreshed
the smell makes m nose tingle and sends a shiver down my spine
it is soft...but the closer it gets the more intense it is
i would stand in it forever if i could
down poors...sprinkles...just stand in it and enjoy every second of it
Your creativity astounds me
never do You make one storm the same as another
i stand-rain falling down around me-wondering how You can have so much creativity and beauty in a simple storm
now the thunder rolls across the sky
...it shakes my soul
...it sets my sense on fire
i feel Your power flow through it...and the rain that's falling all around me
to my right a streak of lightening ripping apart the dark clouds and the rain
my soul and senses my very being is ablaze...elctrified by every drop...exploding with every flash of lightening...crumbling with the shake of the thunder
lightening to my left cracks the sky into a million pieces...making a map across the darkness...one only the birds can follow
You are my map
i lose sight of You sometimes...only to have You flash across the darkness in my mind...mapping my path...engraving it into my soul
the rain is still falling around me
i feel You in every drop
i want this rain to keep falling...
falling all around me...
seeping into the depths of my being
drenching my body and soul...drowning out all my pointless thoughts
the rain still falls down around me
im totally taken by Your awesome beauty...Your unbelievable creativity
i watch the rain fall...
i feel the rain fall...

"Escape"

the walls called life are closing in on me
the chains of previous mistakes bite hard and won't let go
the messanger who brought me lies comes again
he says hes found a way out
he says hes come to take me there
he pulls out a blindfold and covers my eyes
he hands me something
i can feel its cold harshness against the palm of my hand
suddenly theres a burning in my wrist
i rip off the blindfold and see a knife in my hand and a cut on my wrist
the messanger tells me this is the temporary "escape" until i'm ready for the real thing
he leaves me there with nothing but my chains
...the knife
...and these terrible ominous walls...always coming closer...squeezing tighter
i cut myself again...the pain goes through my entire body as if it weren't a regular knife...
it hurts...but at least i finally feel something again...or is it for the first time...?
everytime i do it...again and again and again...
the walls creap in closer squeezing tighter around my heart
i hide my wrists from the world...not that it matters
the "world" hates me for being alive...so i return the favor
i do everthing i can to bite back for every time it bites me...i claw at it for every time it slashes my heart
the messanger comes back while i'm making this cold...unforgiving knife my friend
he says its time for the final escape...my heart skips a beat...finally
he lifts my friend just as cold and harsh as ever to my throat and tells me its the answer...its the only "escape"
but then a young child appears and tells me there's another way...the child points to a rope just above my head...how could i have not seen it...?
i reach for it but the chains hold me back
the child tells me to let go of the chains and give them over to "Him"
the child tells me how "He" long ago gave up his life in place of anyone who wants "His" gift
"but how" i asked
suddenly there was a bright light...the messanger coward...the child smiled
from the light came a "Man"
"He" had holes in "His" hands..."His" feet...and in "His" side
"His" forehead was covered in scars
"He" reached out "His" hands and took hold of mine...it was then that i realized that the chains weren't attached to me...i was holding on to them
i tried to hide my wrists...but i couldn't
"He" saw them and a tear went down "His" face...then another...until he was sobbing...
i realized that "He" had what i wanted...the one and only true "escape"
i let go of my chains..."He" put them on "His" back...a back i saw covered in scars...scars that had names in them...name after name after name...
yet each "He" bore with a smile...each "He" bore with the sense of wanting to...
the messanger began to say something...but i couldn't hear him
all i could do was look into "His" face...it was full of peace...and sorrow...and joy all at the same time
"He" lead me to the rope
i reached for it...but i still couldn't reach
the messanger was there in an instant..."see" said he "its all a lie take my way"
he handed me the knife
the walls...those terrible forces of depression...were so close it was all i could do to breath
i had to make a choice...i wanted the rope...but the messanger pushed the knife at me
my hand held the knife and trembled...with the messanger talking in my ear i nearly didn't hear the child say "ask "Him""
i turned to "Him"..."He" had been waiting there the whole time...tears still trickling down "His" face
all i could do was form one word..."please..."
"He" reached over and wrapped "His" loving arms around me...the second i felt "His" touch the knife fell from my hand and the messanger disappeared with a sceam...like that of a demon being drawn back into the lake of fire
"He" lifted me up so i could reach the rope...it became so easy i wondered why i hadn't reached it before
the child looked up at the men and walked away...on some new task
"He" just stood there and watched..."His" loving eyes always on me
...it had finally happened...i had "escaped"

Poetry's purpose

poetry is often used for showing your feelings.
there's sonnets for feelings of joy or love.
ellegy's for feelings of sorrow and regret or mourning.
general poems for whatever feelings happen to be going through your mind as you stare at a cloud.
in my personnal experience almost all poems have something to do with love. not necesarily love as a focal point, but it's included in most poems.
i myself have written my fair share of "love" poems all saying how beautiful that someone is or how much im hurt by this action or that or how i want to love...but they all seem to be missing something to me, they never quite seem atiquite. it wasn't until just now in reading a friends blog that i realized my missing piece...the One who IS Love.
how can you write about love without Love itself being included.
i had never considered this and just thought that it must be me being to much of a perfectionist to see that my poems were fine. that's what everyone told me
"your poems are great" "i love you poetry" "there's nothing wrong with them they're fine"
"fine"...that's the problem i'm not one to settle for "fine" i needed that missing piece i needed to make my poetry go beyond "fine" to what it was suppose to be...but that presents a whole new question in itself, what is poetry suppose to be? is it suppose to be a way to show love or joy or sorrow...or is it suppose to be all of them?
before i didn't know, i was thinking to much and not listening enough. all it took to realize what was missing was some blogs of a friend that were written from listening instead of thinking. the human mind is truly amazing, and can be used to benefit God and others in so many ways we can't even begin to imagine, but it can also be our downfall and bring us to our knees.
how many times have i thought about how to better life and then in the same second thought about how much i hate someone...someone who means the world to the One who loves me more then i could ever deserve. how can i hate or even dislike someone He created and put Himself into?
poetry is putting ones feelings and thoughts and soul into words, its either powerful or lacking, it all just depends on whether or not you incorporate the original Author of poetry, the One who writes with trees and wind and oceans and sounds and people, the One who gives us the feelings and thoughts that we put into our poetry. looking back on my poetry that was always the problem...i just never realized because i was to busy thinking about the problem instead of listening for an answer