Darkness

Shifted from the safety of communion 
Stark against the density of the surrounding velvet sky
There are stories among the shadows;
Things to come alive, things to die before they rise
Fear comes alive in the ambiance of the charcoal background
It ruthlessly kills the soul as it hangs above
Let it remain sombre, let it remain still
May it stay ever severed,
As we make these stories our own
Stories of fascination and revelation  
The grace of the midnight sun shines down;
It breaks the shadows below and the earth awakens
I hear the symphonies beyond,
As Peace twirls me through the dissected gloom
The tender dance; an escape from anxiety
Obscurity, you won’t weary me yet

Retro

I just love these. I want to get them developed and use them somewhere in our house.

I bring You with me.

I lay here to rest

I lay here to be with You

I lay here to escape

I lay here because I hurt

I bring You with me because this place is Yours

We stare at the same openness

Colour fills those empty spaces

We feel the same heat from the sun

The beams break through the green fans

We feel the same pain

You have connected Your heart to mine

I open my hand to invite Yours

You embrace in tenderness

And say my cross is just not made of wood 

We lay here to rest

We lay here to be together

We lay here to escape

We lay here because we know the same hurt.

Swing.

Tonight I needed new scenery.
I went to the park near my house and sat on a swing.
The decision was abrupt and happened with little thought.

I told myself this was a chance to take it all in.
To breath in what has happened, all that is to come and the intricate details of the present.
With each kick and pull I was supposed to soak. To allow myself to see it all, but most importantly to be okay with it all. To rest in it all.
I swung and said 'I am okay.'
Tears ran down; not of sadness and not of joy, but because I knew I was okay.
I knew that there were broken people all around me crying out at that very moment. I knew that there were people filled with celebration and contentment at that very moment, as well.
And here I was, swinging. Okay. Alive.

I swung away the years and let the air flow in my hair. Letting myself feel as alive as my humanity would allow.
The innocence of a swing and all the things of childhood contrasted with the fear of the current darkness and the shadows I saw ahead.

So, I focused on the stars. I focused on the Divine. I focused on resting. I focused on letting the air push me higher.

And I knew I was Okay.

Listen. Enjoy.

Hey Brother

For so many years it was just me and you. Everyday. All day.
We composed a school of two. We lived out adventures in the back yard. We read Narnia together and thought we were there. You wanted to fight foxes and I had to bring you reason. We tried to nurture a baby mouse with almonds and milk, but lost his life. We cried when our dog died. You always practiced your karate on me and knew my claustrophobic weakness. We laid down pillows and pretended we were surrounded by lava. We hid from moms clients, to get away from the chatter, and made a world in the garage with use us and our bunnies. You were always excited. You jumped around and found reason to punch everything you saw. You constantly asked me "Do you like me?" and "Are you my friend?" You followed me around and would yell from the top of the stairs if I was ever out of your sight.

You were my little brother.
You were my best friend.

As we got older you were always sensitive to when I hurt. You held me that Christmas Eve as we stood outside without coats and I cried.
I was so proud of you for standing up when I was too weak.
You opened up to me that night as we walked under the Lively stars and I treasured that connection that seemed so distant since those former imagination childhood days.

Can we pretend we are back there again?
Can we disappear to Narnia for one more night or a lava surrounded island?

Brother, I know we've grown and the days of exploring the haunted house near grandpas field are gone.
But, can we make up somewhere new, somewhere that never has to die?

A world of just us two, like when we were in a school of just me and you.
Want to?

Mr Magoriums Wonder Emporium. This movie always makes me feel strangely alive.

Mr. Edward Magorium: 37 seconds. Molly Mahoney: Great. Well done. Now we wait. Mr. Edward Magorium: No. We breathe. We pulse. We regenerate. Our hearts beat. Our minds create. Our souls ingest. 37 seconds, well used, is a lifetime.

"When King Lear dies in Act V, do you know what Shakespeare has written? He's written "He dies." That's all, nothing more. No fanfare, no metaphor, no brilliant final words. The culmination of the most influential work of dramatic literature is "He dies." It takes Shakespeare, a genius, to come up with "He dies." And yet every time I read those two words, I find myself overwhelmed with dysphoria. And I know it's only natural to be sad, but not because of the words "He dies." but because of the life we saw prior to the words. I've lived all five of my acts, Mahoney, and I am not asking you to be happy that I must go. I'm only asking that you turn the page, continue reading... and let the next story begin. And if anyone asks what became of me, you relate my life in all its wonder, and end it with a simple and modest 'He died.'" - Mr. Magorium.

Where to find Freedom

I hit the pavement in search for clarity. I found myself frozen in time. Staring at the years that held it all. That held me. That shaped me. That burned me. That saved me.
I saw him. In his superhero costume. Running. I smile. I tear. Hold that, little boy, please hold that belief forever.

Time brings confusion. Childhood is clarity. Innocence is faith. Adulthood is searching for the truth you once knew as a child. It is longing to put that cape on again and maybe, just maybe, believe you can fly. That you are invincible.

Freedom is found there. It is in the imagination while playing on the street in your mask. Freedom is in the belief.

So, keep running little boy and don't let life catch you. Run past the years and past the confusion, right into the arms of Peace and Faith.
Take me with you. Take us all with you.
We need that belief again. We need that freedom.

Bonhoeffer: Taken from a Wedding Sermon written from Prison (1943)

"The place where God has put the wife is the husband’s home. Most people have forgotten nowadays what a home can mean, though some of us have come to realize it as never before. It is a kingdom of its own in the midst of the world, a stronghold amid life’s storms and stresses, a refuge, even a sanctuary. It is not founded on the shifting sands of outward or public life, but it has its peace in God, for it is God who gives it its special meaning and value, its own nature and privilege, its own destiny and dignity. It is an ordinance of God in the world, the place in which – whatever may happen in the world – peace, quietness, joy, love, purity, discipline, respect, obedience, tradition, and with it all, happiness may dwell. It is the wife’s calling and her happiness, to build up for her husband this world with the world and to do her life’s work there. How happy she is if she realizes how great and rich a task and destiny she has. Not novelty, but permanence; not change, but constancy; not noisiness, but peace; not words, but deeds; not commands, but persuasion; not desire, but possession – and all these things inspired and sustained by her love for her husband - that is the wife’s kingdom."