Shiloh

His calloused hand seemed to swallow her tiny sepia toned fingers.  Her coarse hair, wild.  The kind of wild that says my daddy got me ready today.  Her soft pink dress grazed the concrete around her worn ballerina shoes.  They waited for the bus that was due in a few minutes.  They were catching a ride to the theater across town. 
A group of women passed, nodding at the unlikely duo.  He had a roughness about him; a look of worry set deep into his eyes.  She was like any toddler, oblivious of the world around her, humming to herself, staring down at her shoes.
'She's beautiful....let me guess....um, four?' the grandmotherly woman inquired as she eyed the little girl.
Impressed, he agreed.  'Yes, exactly.'
'Well, I have 13 grandchildren and 5 great grandchildren,' the woman humbly justified.  'She really is a doll, you keep her close,' she advised with a wink and a smile.
'Oh I will,' he assured her.  'I will.'
He uneasily glanced at his watch, trying to avoid anymore attention from passersby.  The bus should be here any minute.  Pulling her hand from his grasp, he decided it wouldn't hurt to let go a little.  She hopped onto the bench and began walking it like a balance beam.  His eyes kept a careful watch as she walked up and down the stripped wood, putting one foot directly in front of the other.  He was right there in case her curious feet darted out from the glass enclosure towards the street.
As he saw the bus nearing, he called to her.  'Shiloh.  Hey...Shiloh!  Come on,' he almost begged.
Unresponsive, he walked over to her and grabbed her hand and led her to the bus as it came to a hissing stop.  As she walked up each step, she felt the hand of this now familiar stranger upon her back.  She wondered if she was finally going home to the mother and father that were now becoming only a strange memory.

Where I Stand/Mass Apology

I'm just going to say this as a disclaimer for all my future posts or responses:  I do not aim to please people, but have learned (somewhat) to bridle my tongue...especially when I know my words will fall on deaf ears anyway.  I also try to follow the Spirit and not my own opinion.  It is rare that I say something from the heart and don't mean in from a stance of love.  So even when I am wrong, my intention is NEVER to be mean or hurtful.  I'm serious about this.  If it's something that I feel irritation over, than I wouldn't have told you until I was at a  peaceful place and can share with love and brotherhood.  But I cannot sit by and hear Christian's say things that are so off-the-wall anymore.  I want to be peaceful, but I also want to unveil Truth. 
Our culture has become so afraid of offending people, and I admit, that I have adopted this into my theology from the many times I was accused of 'not being a Christian' because I was not allowing myself to be a doormat.  I apologize for all future offenses that I may cause, and invite you to please put down your armor, and have a conversation with me if I say ANYTHING that you can't move forward without harboring in your heart. 
That being said, let's all try to (me included), hear Truth for what it is, no matter where or who it is coming from, and not get offended so easily to begin with.  We shouldn't fight each other, we should be standing together against the powers that be.  Let's let Truth infiltrate our hearts to a greater level of revolution.  So...sorry in advance.

The Beauty Scandal

This is the scandal of modern day beauty.  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  Insert any anorexic, white, model into this picture...it doesn't matter. This kind of beauty is more of an illusion than a true sentiment.   Smoke and mirrors, Photoshop, an unspoken vote of the masses.  Beauty is superficial, in-genuine, and completely void of meaning

Beauty can be deceptive.  For 'that which is striking and beautiful is not always good, but that which is good is always beautiful.'  Like the bite of an alluring apple.  You can't assume that beauty equals goodness.  If that were the case than society would be at its finest.  But if you look past the external, x-raying the heart of society, we'd realize it's not a heart at all, but a bunch of mechanical gears.  There's a rot that began as comparison and jealousy, giving way to consumerism and want, want, want.   

  

Beauty is life-giving, not exhausting.  It's not about keeping up with the masses, continually seeking the 'right' image, a stirring of discontent that belittles us as humans; a lie that says we are never good enough unless.  Unless.

It's not an irregularity or flaw that diminishes the value of something.  It's the ravenous appetite for lipstick and lace.  There is beauty all around, it's our job to search it out like a treasure.   We were designed in love.  We are physiologically unique.  Our beauty is fierce and cuts through the graffiti of popularity.  We have greatness in our hearts, so let's call that greatness from each other instead of cutting each other down because of mere image.  There is beauty in your details. in your thoughts, in your guts.  You hold the world inside of you, don't let diets and fads snuff that out.

  

Participate in the natural beauty that is all around you.  Hummingbirds and mountains.  Lands far, far away that are pregnant with life.  Live your life looking for the treasure where you think there is none.  That will be the place of deepest magic.  Where nothing is contrived, and the moments seem to stand still.  There you will find hope.  

Your heart holds more meaning than plump lips.  Be ravenous for the beauty in gesture and pleasantries rather than style and acceptability.  I promise you be more fulfilled than when you're wardrobe was at it's best.

'Beauty is not in the face, it is a light in the heart.' -Kahlil Gibran

'Her life improved dramatically when she decided to break the rules and find beauty where she'd been told there was none.'

Chasing Egypt

Since we've moved to Tennessee, life has been a bit of an adjustment.  I've said before that things sort of fell apart when we got here, and trust me, that seems like an understatement.  We felt called here...we KNOW we were called here, but the circumstantial crumbling gave us this nag inside that constantly questioned our decision.  IF we were called to be here, than WHY aren't we seeing this blessing that we knew would follow?  If, if, if...why, why, why?

I used to read the book of Exodus and scoff at the Israelite's attitudes when they were finally free of Pharaoh.  Who would possibly belittle their own escape?  Who would ever complain about freedom when they intimately knew the hardship of slavery?  It seemed unimaginable to me to feel anything but relief and the extraordinarily bright hope of their futures.  But I must say that I have currently mimicked their path.  When things looked more like a desert and less like a promised land, I sort of let myself fall apart.  I too, started longing for the familiarity of Egypt instead of the promises that are coming.

Through this, God began to expose my heart in ways that I didn't even know needed freeing, but He is faithful, and began unlocking.  I want the real thing, even if it means a lot of discomfort in the process.  I will never confuse discomfort with doubt anymore, and most importantly, I will never again long for the days that were oppressive.

Our life in Ohio wasn't horrible.  We were close to family, had a beautiful house, and had each other.  We were happy.  But there was always this desire and hunger for more.  More opportunity to do the things that we are passionate about doing, and that are a total dead end back home.  And that is certainly oppressive.  An undesirable, meager job that paid the bills....a decent life, but not the one that is really from our deepest desires.
We had the material things that we 'needed,' like our own house, a permanent place for our toothbrushes and clothes.  And that was enough to make me ask why.  So silly.  All I really missed about those days was a misconstrued idea of 'comfort.'

Now that I am aware, I have submitted to the process of being sculpted and refined, and I can honestly say that I am thankful for the way things happened.  I will claim this as our first major opportunity;  a bounding step towards finding our true place and hearts.  I will not long for the days that I felt oppression lying on my shoulders.  God has helped rid me of the idea of comfort that would've always been a revolving door that led back to me.  He has helped me trust Him and know Him more.  Above all, I am thankful that we have a God so gracious, that he even made us aware of the strategies against us, and that it won't take us 40 years to reach our destination. 

Oak

Through the damp soil, the push of roots sprawl deeper into the warm essence of earth.
A mature oak I am.  With roots deep, ready to break apart the sterile, concrete world around me.
Still recovering from a brutal fire passed, my scars are no longer visible - just another ring tucked deep inside of me.
I am not that person anymore.  Yet she is still there, buried under years of re growth.
I  grow towards the Son, and offer my shade in return.

So lay as a beggar beneath my branches.
Eat the fruit that is birthed from the anatomy of all that I am.
Wild things, come to me. Nest in my hair, for I am unmoved.
Grow with me, let our roots entangle to become vitally united.
So instead of one tree, we can become a forest.

Remnants of a Funeral

Open your eyes to how much of our lives are spent investing in our own deaths.  How much does it really cost us to die?
We feed our bodies poison, we smoke toxins, we inject chemicals to remain youthful, go under the knife to undermine age.  We infiltrate hate, and embrace every excessive way we find that makes us 'happy.' 
We feed on triggers of death.
We kill our spirits with lust and pornography, jealousy and want.  Desensitized hearts from violence and rage used in 'entertainment';  we break down the barrier that protects us from the profane.
Beauty and perfection have become a way of life.  Image has become too important.
We live in a world where we are blindly led to accept we can do ANYTHING that makes us 'happy' without consequence.  When our actions do catch up to us, we simply abandon them by inventing new methods of 'freedom.'
And we buy it.
With our hearts, and with our cold, hard, American cash.
We have deadened and numbed ourselves to the point where wrong no longer exists, we call it 'freedom.'
But who is really free?!
We can buy admiration, we can sell lies.  We fashion chains to have keys to sell.  We focus all our energy on extravagances that are killing us.
Each day we contribute to our own deaths;  we invest in our own decay, thinking we are secure....happy.
We believe we are fueled by life-giving blood.....but reality says we are only filled with a kind of formaldehyde;  a man-made product with the mark of America running through our cold veins to indefinitely preserve the idea that we are all just walking remnants of a funeral.

A 4th of July Rant

Sparklers have been around forever right?   When I was little, we cherished the moments that we were allowed to hold something that was actually on fire.  We would chase each other with them, freak out every time they had nearly burned to the end, afraid of getting sparks on our sticky cotton candy fingers, and sword fight with the blackened remnants.  Remembering how fun they were, we usually pick a few boxes up for our kids every year.  It's not a difficult task. You go to the grocery store and there are holiday kiosks littered with sparklers, pop it's, and smoke bombs. 

Last night I made a late night run to the store to get a few things for the 4th, sparklers included.  When I stalked the usual spots of the store and came up empty handed, I hunted down a sales clerk to help me.

Me: 'Excuse me, do you know where I can find the sparklers?'

Sales Clerk 1: 'What?'

Me: 'Sparklers?'

Sales Clerk: (confused look) 'No' (and then he walked away).

As rude as that was, I made my way to another part of the store to find them myself.  Still missing in action, I spot Associate #2.

Me: 'Excuse me, can you tell me where I can find sparklers?'

Sales Clerk 2: 'Find what?'

Me: 'Sparklers.'

Sales Clerk 2:  (confused look) 'Try the incense aisle.' (And he totally walked away)

What?!  Well I am certainly not wasting my time walking to the incense aisle.

There was some more aimless wandering and hunting down associate #3.

Me: 'Where can I find sparklers?'

Sales Clerk 3:  'Like the thing for your dog?'

Me: What?! So with a confused look, I walked away.

Me: 'Do you carry sparklers?' I curmudgeonly asked the final employee that I had patience for.

Sales Clerk #4: 'Sparkler? What is a sparkler?'

Me:  'You know, the sticks that look like incense (thanks clerk 2) that you light...and they sparkle...?

Absolutely not!  Nobody knew what I was talking about.  How is that even possible?  Maybe since fireworks are legal in Tennessee, they don't tamper with that weak stuff.  Regardless, I left 30 minutes later,empty handed, incredibly irritated, and slightly amused.

Happy sparkler-free (and super rainy) Fourth!

photo credit