Friday, September 28, 2007

005.

"Don't give up. It's just the weight of the world. When your heart's heavy, I will lift it for you.
Don't give up because you want to be heard. If silence keeps you, I will break it for you.
Everybody wants to be understood. Well, I can hear you."


The ground started to rumble. I felt it, but I knew not from where it came. I gazed into the distance. I pivoted my feet and surveyed my surroundings. I saw distant figures, but I was soon distracted as the rumbing started to fade and became more and more distant. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Lord." I whispered. Not that I had asked to begin with.

I turned my attention back to the figures. They seemed closer now. And I recognized them as people. They seemed oddly familiar, as if I were in the company of friends. As I studied their movements and tried to distinguish their features, it became obvious that these people were in great distress. Some of them on their knees. Some of them clinging for dear life. Some of them shaking fists at the sky. Some simply collapsed in sobs.

I kept pivoting and looking around in every direction, seeing more and more hurting people. They were aching. My heart grew heavier by the minute. The beautiful solid ground on which I stood became more and more appaling to me. Those people are crying in the dry, cracked desert, yet here I stand on my lush patch of land, worrying about the ramifications of a small rumbling, over in an instant. These people seemed to be in a never-ending state of loneliness and confusion. They are victims of unfortunate circumstance. They are simply in need of answers. They are mourning over lost souls close to them. And yet, here I stand. I am disgusted with my world. My heart sunk even further. I need to assist. I need to love them. How can I possibly understand their circumstances? How can I possibly be of any comfort when their world is crumbling beneath them?

And their world WAS crumbling beneath them. The rumbling? It shook the ground on which they stood, kneeled, and collapsed. The cracks in the ground grew bigger. They debated on whether or not just to jump in.

I looked closer. More and more familiar figures started to appear. Their faces started to form from the blurred images. I...know her. I--I know HIM! I know all four of THEM! What is happening? Why is no one okay anymore? Was anyone okay to begin with? Or am I just naive enough to think they were?
Everyone is breaking...aching...

And I collapsed on my patch of lush, green grass, and tears started to flow.
Jesus, help them. I don't know how. With all of my heart, I wish i did.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

004.

"And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love Him."- Romans eight: twenty-eight.

Once upon a time there was a man who worked very hard. He toiled and toiled from dawn until dusk on his wooden sculptures. His hands were worn with a combination of age & honest work. Often he lay awake at night, wondering what good any of it was doing.
He made an honest living. He fed himself and his wife. They were never without a roof over their heads or clothes on their back.
He never meant to be a wood carver. He wanted to be a pediatrician. He loved kids, and, never being able to have any of his own, it seemed like the perfect solution. He thought about going to school, taking all the right classes. He would be making a difference in people's lives.
No, I can't do that, he told himself.
So he stuck to what he was good at. Wood carving. It's in my blood, he thought. His father created masterpieces out of blocks of maple.
For years he wondered if he'd made the right decision. What am I doing with my life? he often wondered.
He did enjoy wood carving. He'd just always wanted to be known for helping people out--making a difference.
What good did sculptures do anyone? They just sit there.
He stood outside in his backyard staring up at the sky. Pacing back and forth, he debated loudly, "Should I go to school? Should I blindly continue on with my comfortable job? What if it all goes downhill? How do i KNOW what i'm supposed to do?!" His shouting echoed as he cried out at the stars.

Something caused him to fall to his knees.
A small tear formed in his right eye, making its way down his cheek. He hadn't cried in years.
He looked back into his humble home, through the window, at his wife sitting by the fire. He half-smiled and thanked God for her.
Suddenly he realized there's a bigger picture than what he does for a living.
He took a deep breath. "I'm supposed to love." He whispered, closing his eyes. "All I have to do is love."

Thursday, September 13, 2007

003.

[metaphor?]

The gravel crunched under her feet as she ran. Little sweat droplets were starting to form on her forehead that she tried to wipe away with one hand, while the other held the layers of her dress. Her heart felt as though it would beat right out of her chest. Her legs were tiring by the second and seemed to scream at her, "STOP RUNNING." But she couldn't.

Her eyes kept creeping farther and farther to her left, straining to see if it was still behind her, but she could not allow them to look." I just, I have to keep going," she thought. "If i keep going, it will never catch up with me. I will never have to deal with it."

She was growing more & more fatigued every second. Her lungs were starting to heave as she attempted to gulp air. "Ugh! I have to keep going!" she shouted out loud. She felt her right leg buckle from underneath her as she stepped on a loose rock about the size of a golf ball. She came crashing to her knees in tears of frustration.

She panted rapidly, trying to catch her breath. Her throat felt as though she had tried to swallow sand.
She slowly craned her neck around to her left. As her eyes began to focus, she could see the boulder in the distance, barreling towards her.
No..no!
She scrambled to get up but her legs were just too weak.
I--I can't--I...
and her hands slipped from under her once again as she fell face-first into the gravel and burst into tears.

She lifted her eyes and saw what appeared to be a figure coming her way. Wiping the tears from her eyes in a panic, she squinted to see what it was. With a quick glance behind her, her heart beat even faster and she turned to look at the man that seemed to be walking briskly towards her, as if he had some purpose in mind.
He walked with confidence, but looked gentle and kind.
As he approached her, he gave her a reassuring half-smile as he looked down at her.
"Doesn't he see it? It's coming right towards us!" she thought.
"S--Sir! There's---" she gasped for air. "it's--coming!"

The man didn't look surprised or worried. He just smiled and gave her a reassuring nod. He placed his hand on her head as he passed her, stopping right where her feet had ended up. A peace came over her.
He stood between her and the boulder. The boulder slowed and curved off the pathway, slowing still as it rolled onto the grass and finally halted.
"You..stopped it. Who--who ARE you?" she asked, full of wonder and an indescribable gratitute.
He smiled, picked her up off the ground, and hugged her.
She knew.
It was He who saves.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

002.

"Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom."- 2 Corinthians 3:17.

It seemed as though her heart was going to burst. She felt freed by those words. She fell to her knees and tears started to pour down her face. She'd tried to keep it together, but the idea of this incomprehensible love melted away her inhibitions. Two planks of wood lain across one another and planted in the ground before her. How could they have any meaning? I mean, it was quite possible that two guys, having just learned how to use a powersaw and a hammer, constructed this pillar of truth, not capturing a minute passing notion of just what these beams symbolized. They might've just wanted a summer job so they could buy an X-box. Or something slightly more illegal.
As she thought about that, she weeped even harder. The magnitude of this instance in time could not possibly be comprehended by man intrigued by it, let alone one who doesn't care at all. Or hear of it at all. But that love was for them! How could they possibly know?
The tears in her eyes created an underwater view as she lifted her head and looked around her. Some of her classmates darted eyes in the face of an awkward situation to which they did not know how to react. They were studying this cathedral for history, not this "Jesus" crap. Others stared at her with a sense of hate. or confusion. One guy. One. She caught his eyes. She saw the pain in them. He wanted to join her, but he was afraid of the silence. Afraid of the stares she was now receiving. Who would wish that upon themselves? Why would you risk that? Hold it in. Hold it all in. Don't let them see you feel. This is NOT a world of humility. No one weeps! You keep it together. With all you have, you keep it together.
She took in a deep breath and looked back at the cross before her. Half-sobbing, she attempted to stand. Her legs felt as though she had just learned to walk. She turned around slowly. Her heart was beating faster than she'd ever felt it. Nothing was this real.
She took a few steps towards him. He shifted glances and sniffed to keep it together.
She said nothing. She simply wrapped her arms around him and whispered: "Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom."
Nothing had ever resounded in his mind or his heart so clearly. He froze. People were staring. At HIM.
I don't care. NO! I DON'T care anymore! His mind yelled inside his head. And he wrapped his arms around her.
"I just needed to know I wasn't alone in this." He whispered back.

001.

"Romance can't possibly carry all that we want it to." -Donald Miller.

I like to write, so here is where I'll do it.
I've already written this one a while ago, but I thought I'd start with it anyways.


She walked into the room. A chill ran down her spine, and butterflies stirred in her stomach. There he was, staring at her. She looked back over her shoulder self-conciously, trying to decide whether it would be permissible for her to make a quick exit. She could not shake him now, he'd seen her. The sound of her Steve Madden shoes on the hardwood floor broke the silence. He smiled. Why had he smiled? She looked down, examining her crimson dress as she walked. It couldn't have been the dress. He stood to greet her. She stopped walking and looked to her right, avoiding eye contact. An 18th century portrait of a soldier hung on the wall beside the bookcase. "Hello," he said, kissing her on the cheek. Her concentration was broken. She managed half of a smile, then nervously eased away and sat on the worn velvet love seat. He offered her tea; she politely declined. She was good at that--being polite even in the worst of circumstances. She cleared her throat.
"I-It's a nice day...today," she managed to mutter.
"Yes, it is," he replied, eyeing her with every word. She shifted in her seat. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner grew increasingly louder. "You know, we must confront this eventually," he said to her. She turned her head. "I-I know," she replied.
"So what shall I do? I am in such a predicament. Tell your husband? I could. But what would I get out of that?"
He looked towards the ceiling and took a puff on his pipe. She glared.
"What do you want?" she insisted.
"Oh, I don't know. I shall have to think about that one. This is a mighty large piece of gossip I hold in my hand, don't you think? It should be worth plenty. What shall I ask for, hm?" he taunted.
She kept in her thoughts. She couldn't afford to speak up. All she could do was glare at him.
"Let's see," he continued. "Oh I know exactly what you could do for me in exchange for withholding this information. You do not want him to know about William, hm? How about you have William and your husband agree to sell the company to me? It's rather brilliant, I think."
"Sell the company? Those are two hard-working gentlemen you are refering to, and I won't have you steal everything they've worked for!" she couldn't hold it in.
"That sounded like an argument, to me. You know I do work only rooms away from your 'friend' William, as well as your husband. 'Twould be a shame to come between such a strong partnership."
She crossed her arms and looked away. A tear rolled down her cheek as she stared out the window of the study.
"That's what I thought," he said, smiling to himself. He rose and began walking to the door, not looking back at her.
"Ah, William, how do you do?" he said as he brushed past William and continued through the doorway.
She hurriedly wiped the tears from her cheeks and put on a half-hearted smile to greet him.