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?

Norman Walker disciple...to be or not to be?

SO (my mom pointed out how often I begin statements with this conjunction) I have been reading some propaganda in favor of a raw foods diet. A couple of friends and I recently delved into conversation about nutrition, health and the problems with Western medicine. They recommended that I read Norman Walker's books...he's totally their dude and they've been following his diet and health methods for years. One of them used to have bad acne and after a few months of raw foods and fresh juices she saw improvements. She now has completely clear skin. The other used to suffer from fatigue and headaches a lot and now doesn't deal with these symptoms and says she doesn't get sick.

The thing is, I've started reading some of Norm's stuff and I must say it seems shockingly radical upon first hearing. He basically advocates only eating raw fruits, vegetables, seeds and nuts, which isn't all that different from many other nutrition articles I've read as far as these things being beneficial. His books talk about how processed foods are deplete of any nutritional value (which is also nothing new) as well as how cooking above 120 degrees Fahrenheit kills off the necessary enzymes and organic properties of living foods. I knew before that the more vegetables were cooked the more nutrients they retained, which is another thing that seems sort of intuitive. But, from this angle, cooked foods are not only lacking nutrients but they are detrimental to one's health.

Another huge point of his, though, is drinking lots of fresh vegetable and fruit juices. He talks about the specific benefits of the juice of each plant as well as mixing them for the purpose of helping certain problems or promoting the health of specific areass of the body. Juicing is important, he says, because some of the nutrients in foods are expended in order to digest the food and takes a long time, whereas the nutrients in the juices can be absorbed within minutes. It is important to juice and drink them fresh, though, because they lose much of their value 30 minutes after juicing.

A major thrust of his teachings are promoting colon health. Walker (not to be confused with Texan law enforcement) argues that 80% of disease finds its origin in the colon. According to his argument, when waste isn't moving through the colon normally, it ferments and putrifies, releasing toxins into the body which cause all kinds of ailments. He talks about how many people's normal diet is largely inorganic and leads to the build-up of slime on the walls of the colon which not only stays there but can block absorption of nutrients. The fibers of raw foods act as an intestinal broom, cleaning this out. He also advocates regular colon irrigations, which is essentially washing out the colon with water to remove waste that has accumulated.

Sounds bizarre, huh? I mean, even besides the colon irrgations, it seems hard to think that the way most people have been preparing food for hundreds of years is actually detrimental to human health. Then again, it make sense that although the human body is very adaptable, we reap what we sow in our old age as all the abuse the body has taken over the years starts to show. We naturally link old age and poor health, but I have heard from a couple places that this is not necessarily true and that a lot of cancers, senility, vericose veins, arthritis and other problems associated with old age are because of poor health choices throughout life. A natural death would then be seen as a short, peaceful death without degeneration over tens of years.

My jury is still out but I am very thoughtfully considering making some diet changes. Norm Walker made it to 99, which is pretty good, seeing as the average for males now is 74.7. I'm interested to hear your reactions.

Progress

If you have a moment, please answer the following question:

What is progress?


(this question was provoked by this art exhibit I heard about in February.)

Anti-Semitism and Anti-Zionism

Anti-Semitism and Anti-Zionism
It is perfectly legitimate to criticize Israel’s policies. Israelis do it all the time in blistering debates. But criticism crosses the line into classic anti-Semitism when it exhibits what Natan Sharansky called the “Three Ds.”

Delegitimization: The Jewish State has no right to exist. Israelis do not belong in the Middle East.

Double Standards: Israel is condemned harshly for self-defense measures and social problems that are seen as acceptable or inevitable in other nations.

Demonization: Through distortions and lies, Israel is depicted as the world’s most evil and dangerous country, and the claim is made that if the Jewish State ceased to exist, the Middle East’s—and the world’s—main problems would be solved.

The Link: Anti-Semitism is hatred for Jews, their communities and their way of life. It includes demonizing and dehumanizing Jews as a group. Anti-Zionism is hatred for Israel, the modern center of Jewish life and continuity. This is why many people claim that Anti-Zionism, or hatred for Israel, is a modern variation of classical anti-Semitism. “Anti-Semitic bigotry is no less morally deplorable when camouflaged as anti-Israelism or anti-Zionism,” according to the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights.1 People of goodwill must try to see through anti-Israel propaganda in order to foster reasonable dialogue.

1-“Findings and Recommendations of the United States Commission on Civil Rights Regarding Campus Anti-Semitism,” U.S. Commission on Civil Rights, April 3, 2006.

Gravity

The red balloon floats placidly away
Palms empty, open boldly to the sky
The mournful breeze blows soft across this face
Silent eyes pressed closed, not asking why

go tell it on the molehill

cocoon
white room
dusty tormentor
flecks on the floor
forgot the window
again

outside? forest fire.

just:
breathe easy
walk straight
save it for later

Milk Paint

I recently read an interesting article on design*sponge about using milk paint on furniture, a product of which I had never heard. Shortly after, my mom told me about a new (to us) woodworking store that had all kinds of woodworking supplies. "Do they have milk paint?" I inquired on a whim, not anticipating her affirmative answer!

I therefore decided I should try my hand at it with an old end table I've always liked and had been wanting to modify.

the specimen

before the poly coat

the awkwardly angled and lit photo of the finished product

What did the astronomer say he needed when he was dirty and had bad water pressure in his house?

Meteor Shower! (get it? like, "meaty-er shower"...I'll be here all week)

So a big group of us went out to see the meteor shower Thursday night.It was great because all my boys came and a bunch of my friends. We drove out to Louisberg and when I looked at the sky, I thought I was looking at the milky way from a telescope, it was so clear. I didn't really know what to expect, but given the name I imagined millions of flashes of light raining down throughout the night. It was more like catching a glimpse of a shooting stars quite often, which was almost more gratifying because even though they were the reason we were there and staring at the sky, they seemed somewhat unexpected every time. I couldn't help but squeal like a little pansy in wonder sometimes. They seemed so close to our faces. It was amazing.

I dare not try to capture an event like this on a sub-par camera...but we did see this giant preying (praying?) mantis on the way there at the gas station. The picture doesn't quite capture the size, but trust me, this one was a buick.

 

Last week, before I knew about the meteor shower, I was struck with inspiration while I was grinding coffee at work, so I scribbled this little diddy onto a paper towel. I guess it was pretty cool timing...

With glory and beauty He crowns the night
like moments passing
word without song

bringin closing timing
finding lost won
One
voice
voice
singing
praising, crying

often wondering
waiting
for shooting stars
lying face up staring into nothing


Thank you, L-rd, that I didn't have to wait too long, that I can stare into something. I love you deeply, like squeezing and scraping on my insides. You move me to tears every time.Thank you for your patience through my resistance and immaturity. I feel love for you even as you wear a veil...please let it not be for too long...