Moments

Moments are my favorite things
Things that wrap around us like ribbons
Ribbons blowing in the breeze like sunrise beams
Beams of light in morning remind us of new mercies
Mercies enough for this moment

Breaking up is hard to do'oo...

My bro and I started this blog when I lived in FL to encourage each other to keep writing. He punked out on it a while back and recently ventured out with his own solo project.

Despite this, we still have an amicable relationship on the web. I am plugging a piece of his that he recently posted. Way to go broheim.

Don't I Hold You

The more I learn to hear the voice of the L-rd, the more I realize how much I've always heard it.

About two years ago I was not following the L-rd the way I knew I should. My spirit was starving and I often felt loneliness so cold it cut me to the bones and woke me up at night. Running running running and grasping after things I couldn't and shouldn't have. Longings deep deep inside of me were never satisfied but I would not open my heart to Him.I didn't think I knew how to get to Him.

I was fond of the Elizabethtown soundtrack (and the movie itself, for that matter). One day in my dorm room I was listening to it, and this song came on:

These are the lyrics:
don't i hold you like you want to be held
and don't i treat you like you want
and don't i love you like you want to be loved
and you're running away
and what's your name
like i'm in the way
don't i hold you like you want to be held
don't i please you like you want
and don't i love you like you want to be loved
and you're running away
and what's your name
like i'm in the way
and wasting too much time
don't i
don't i hold you like you want

sometimes i hold you right
nice and tight
to me most times
on account it's based on need
not selfish greed or pride

don't i
don't i hold you like you want


In that moment, I felt the song was what He was saying to me. I remember feeling like something broke in me and I was crying, but I couldn't believe it was really His voice. It felt too presumptuous or too fictitious to think it was true. I didn't believe it. I wished it was true, I wanted it to be...


I used to be so mad at Him because I felt He could see my struggle and this gnawing thing inside of me and left there utterly alone. I ran a lot then, literally. I hesitate to run these days because it reminds of back then, when I was running on the outside and inside, but not because I wanted to.


A little while ago, I confided in a friend the sadness and loneliness I was feeling at the moment. She said, "Let Him hold you like you need to be held." This immediately hit the rewind button in my mind and brought me back to the moment with the song two years ago. I know now that it was Him, and now I know what He says is true.


I don't blame Him anymore for not breaking through to me during those years. Doesn't He know the hearts of men? Isn't He able to rightly judge them? I explained away His love. I also explained away His instructions to me. In fact, at that time I said in my heart, "I have always done the right thing, I have always obeyed. This time I'm not going to." I wanted to see what would happen. I saw what happened. I'm still recovering and being healed from the effects of those choices. I believe Him when He says that He will repay us for the years the locust ate, the locust he sent among us. But how much better to bind our years to the L-rd? How much better to hold our years as precious possessions and not let any be wasted?


Now He holds me like I want to be held. And I don't ever want to go back again.

What would you do?

http://wimp.com/stealingbike/

One Day

I can't get away from this song these days.



Amen.

Banksy, anyone?

For further entertainment or provocation, see Exit Through the Gift Shop.

The last one is my favorite.

i miss...

sometimes i miss being a part of music-making like a part of me is in a hibernation coma. lately it has been stirring. i miss it more than other things i could be missing right now.

this is what i miss about my old school...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDS96dKzbRU(it's kind of a lame video, but that's the Southeastern Singers)
the guy on keys used to play shows at the cafe i worked at down there and i would wait for hours with my friends before the show so we could have close seats.

i miss worship team in youth group, fine arts festival music, playing flute in marching band and concert band, worship choir at southeastern university, wind ensemble and the soul in the music at southeastern, and more...



i hope (pray) it whistles back at me soon, although id be extra rusty....

A Dream Deferred

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

Langston Hughes

I recited this poem for my oral interpretation class back when I was studying English. It moved me, especially because of the dreams that he most likely had in mind as he wrote in the midst of the Harlem Renaissance. I have been thinking about this poem in light of dreams in general- my own dreams, but also the dreams of many of my dear friends and their vision for the city of Merriam. It’s hard for me to watch people I love who have invested much in something so unselfish and not see much of the tangible fruit of what they have been asking and working for. I know that we as humans can’t see the big picture and don’t know what His timing is for things- it’s often different than ours. I get that, but sometimes...I really don't.

I think about this poem I’ve held onto in light of a verse that I’ve held onto over the years:

For still the vision awaits its appointed time; it hastens to the end--it will not lie. If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay

Habakkuk 2:3

We wait for our deferred dreams, the ones that are of the L-rd.

It’s funny how sometimes people point out verses in the Bible that I know I must have read before, but it leaps out at me as if it had been hiding. One of my favorite books is Ecclesiastes, and my brother showed me this verse last night:

For when dreams increase and words grow many, there is vanity; but God is the one you must fear.
Ecclesiastes 5:7

Something I’m chewing on….

stranger than...

I need a good fiction book. Any recommendations?