and in this light i can see straight through
to the very center of who you are
there is no make up made to cover
what you wish it would
instead of trying to blurr your transparency
why not just make the inside
brighter than the out
so that people don't have to look,
you'll already be shining on through!
you are beautiful just the way you are
there could never be a more beautiful you.
It's early morning and I'm standing on the edge of this life. I'm looking down on the rest of the world from my cloud edge and what I miss most is companionship. The world twinkles from this high. And I see people pass one another by, not even touching. Each with their own agenda. Some are sleeping, others schooling, working, struggling to survive. Many are suffering, in one form or another. There are those in third world countries without homes or food. Some in Western society are broken and tormented. Others are starved for affection or attention. It breaks my heart in each way that I see an individual suffering and billions of little cracks spiderweb across my human heart. A single tear leaves my cheek to drop to the earth below. And where it hits the paved ground, a small bud bursts forth between the cracks of the busy sidewalk. The passerby's eye it cautiously, why is it there in the cement where it doesn't belong? A curious little plant. A second tear leaves from my lips and falls to the asphalt of some parking lot. A third tear falls to the sun baked earth and another onto the ice, a few fall into forests and some onto sand dunes. And where each tear fell there emerged a small bud. People around the world begin to crowd the strange little plants as they grow before their very eyes. Blossoming into tall thick trees that continue up into the sky to a point people can no longer see. Some ignore the plants, avoiding them at all costs and shaming those who do address their existence. Others try to tear the trees from the ground, they are inconvenient and don't belong. Most smile gently as they pass the trees to continue on with their lives. A few begin to care for the trees, watering them and placing fresh earth around the roots. Those people become a part of something bigger than themselves. Their suffering lessens as they grow in community and are there for one another in times of hardship. I lie down on my cloud and peer over the edge, watching my tears grow into beautiful beings all the way back up to where I am. I play in the branches and stroke the waxy leaves against my cheeks, happy that suffering can bring such wonderful joy. And as I peer down through the leaves, I can only hope that someone finds a branch with sure footing and then another and another, all the way up to where I am at the edge of this life. So that they might sit on the edges of clouds and play in the branches of joy with me. So many have started the climb only to turn around before ever making it to the top. I have a sad sort of wonder at them and my hope becomes a little smaller each time they decide to turn around. Yet, another day is setting and so I must find a cloud to tuck myself into, where I will wait for early morning to stand on the edge of this life. I build a small fire with the little hope I have left and dream sweet dreams of a day when someone will find their way up through the branches to where I am and my hope renews, growing into the grand thing it was before the day. It is early morning and I am standing on the edge of this life.
"It's like a revolution and I just want to be a part of it."
The world is changing. My world is changing. There aren't enough Thursdays in a week, that's a fact, pure and simple. I wish I could lead worship for Jr High Retreats all year round. I don't know what I'm doing here, all I know is that there is a revolution happening and I just want to be a part of it. I want to live in the right here for the rest of my life. Where there are amazing things happening each moment and change is catching like fire. This is how life was meant to be lived. This is where the front line is, and I want to be on it. I can't wait for someone else, it needs to be me. I can't wait for when they get around to it, it needs to be now. Autumn is here. Crisp cold air and I'm watching the leaves change from where I stand. Let's change the world by Christmas. Let's be a part of something so big that it blankets the rest of the world in awe. We are called to this. To create real and good change. I believe the best of other people, I think it is one of my key strengths - and flaws. And I believe we can change the world for the better.
I've had a couple people ask if I'm going to write about my week and a half of radio silence, about my brother. The answer is no. One of the privledges of hearing other peoples stories is hearing them from the person who experienced it all. The other is trust. So if you'd like to hear my brother's story, you are welcome to ask. But it is his story to tell. Perhaps if he someday asks me to write on the ordeal, I will consider it. Until then, consider yourself out of luck.
Here's lookin' at you, kids.