Tuesday, December 8, 2009

The No-Paper Poem

Liszt
Trees and snow and all is light
Window, close yourself to me.
I must retreat to pages long
- I must turn off ethereal song.

Mind
Is malfunctioning tonight
It sees only things unreal.
Heavy eyes and instincts fought
- To sleep would be to triumph not.

Bed
Perfect bliss and all is right
What was written goes away.
Drift in cosmos without time
- Won't wake until rest is mine.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Somehow...

I find myself pulling an all-nighter again to write a paper. I feel like I've had many of them so far this semester . I want to say I hate them (and I would much rather be in bed right now), but there's something to love about having the night, those countless dark hours to be alone, hence me taking the time to write this really unnecessary post.

I love the idea of floating in the in-between, one foot in yesterday, one in tomorrow. Thoughts that are suppressed or dulled down in the daytime are suddenly brought to life and sharpened and start buzzing around. It can be kind of annoying because you can start worrying about things that don't need to be worried about.

The paper I'm attempting to write isn't stressing me out. I know I'll get it together on time, and I'm pacing myself slowly and drinking lots of coffee so as not to rush and make it sloppy.

The truth is, this paper just isn't what's on my mind and it's certainly not sinking in as a priority. Life is overwhelmingly distracting and just seems to create this thick cloud that I can't see past in order to have the clarity needed to do things like schoolwork. My mind is like a tarnished spoon in need of a good polish. Sometimes the love I have for my studies just fades and it's only through prayer that I find the strength to press on and truly work from my heart.

So, here I am again, sitting up with one Kim Walker song playing over and over and over...and I know that somehow the night will end and eventually my thoughts will calm down enough for the stupid paper to get finished. Somehow tomorrow always comes.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Empty Hands to Hold

Joseph:

A 60-something year old man living on the streets of Toronto. A few minutes into conversation and it is obvious that underneath his aged and hardened demeanour is a young boy craving purpose and appreciation.

"I'm old, there's nothing left for me, my life is over - why am I still here?", he asks. I ask him what his passions are and he says "I don't know". He tells me he comes from up north, and after sharing his views on government, farming, and how the world has "screwed him over", he says with smiling eyes, "you'll win".

"What do you mean?" I ask, more so just to keep him talking.

"You'll win at life", he says, and his eyes smile wistfully.

A younger man interrupts, coming up to me for juice, holding something that reeks of chemicals, and someone behind him shouts "You gotta stop sniffing glue man!" Another man refuses a handshake, not wanting us to touch his unclean hands that were tainted by whatever the day's shady business might have been.

We give Joseph some socks and as I turn to leave I shake his hand. He holds it a little longer than necessary adding, "Be good."

All of us: the Josephs, the glue-sniffers, the shady, the searching...we know the difference between right and wrong even if our lives have not demonstrated it. My heart breaks for those who have grown skeptical, hard, and hopeless, searching for something to fill the emptiness that goes much deeper than material poverty.

Nancy:

She lives in a seniors home, and is a middle-aged woman suffering from an injury that prevents her from working, so she spends her days alone. She is Catholic, evident from the rosaries and crosses around her room, but despite the outward appearance of faith she is dispirited, dissatisfied with life, ending every sentence with, "but what can I do?" and a shrug. Life has taught her that without a job, husband or children she is useless, with nothing to offer, and she holds her hands out, empty, to emphasize her point.

We serve a God who made us to need him. He built us with innate desires that only He can satisfy because He loves us so much and wants us to turn our hearts to Him, to find satisfaction in Him alone. No matter the situation we find ourselves in, or what wrong turns we have made, there is always hope in Christ, who grabs a hold of our filthy and ignoble hands that so often work in opposition to His will. Yet, no matter how unworthy we are, He comforts, changing our attitudes and steering us in the right direction.

The things this world tells us are necessary, like money, or health, can only get us so far. We will leave this world empty-handed no matter what, so what matters is where we place our trust, and what (Who) we hold onto. The Josephs and Nancies of our world (all of us) need to know that whether or not we are seen as an asset to society, we are an asset to God's Kingdom if we will let Him shape and use us. He makes a feeble heart strong, a foolish mind wise, and an aimless life purposeful. God is present in the places we think are too dirty, and the places we have forgotten about. He is not distant, or far-off, but is ever-reaching for us in every moment, wanting to fill us so that no matter what our physical or material prospects for this life look like, we can go on living, being truly alive! There is nothing we can do to earn His affection, He takes us as we are, and where we are.
Psalm 139:7-10 - Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.
Let us remember that we all come before God empty-handed, but it's those hands He wants to hold.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Lamenting Lyrics

Just got the self-titled album by Monsters of Folk. Their song Dear God (Sincerely M.O.F.) goes like this lyrically:

Dear god, I'm trying hard to reach you
Dear god, I see your face in all I do
Sometimes it’s so hard to believe in
Good god I know you have your reasons

Dear god I see you move the mountains
Dear god I see you moving trees
Sometimes it’s nothing to believe in
Sometimes it’s everything I see

Dear god, I wish that I could touch you
How strange sometimes I feel I almost do
And then I'm back behind the glass again
Oh god what keeps you out it keeps me in

Well I’ve been thinking about,
And I’ve been breaking it down without an answer
I know I’m thinking aloud but if your love's
Still around why do we suffer?
Why do we suffer?

I'd be lying if I said this doesn't affect me; I can identify with the writer's struggle. Sometimes no matter how much I feel God's presence and see his majesty around me I am still just faced with that puzzling question: why do we suffer? As Christians we know where suffering comes from [Gen 3], and we know where Hope is found [John 3.16]; yet, that still does not always satisfy us.

The lyrics resonate somewhere deep inside my idealistic self that longs for a perfect world - a world without suffering. I was made for something more than this beautiful but screwed up place. Creation is not what it was made to be, and we recognize that there is something deeply wrong. The writer of the song recognizes that there is something wrong.

There's a kind of paradox in our culture today. On the one hand, it tells us that there is no meaning to life so we can all live how we want with no moral standard. Yet, that same culture is crying out for justice, meaning, order, and hope. There is something in each of us reaching out, wanting to touch the divine, wanting to fix what's broken.

The recognition of that universal longing in each of us can only point us to the reality of a higher order; a good God, who created us for good. We wait expectantly for the day when suffering ends, but, in the meantime, we wrestle with discontentment. We identify with a billion other voices who know there's something more. We remain unsatisfied. We let the lyrics speak.

If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy,
I can only conclude that I was not made for here
If the flesh that I fight is at best only light and momentary,
Then of course I'll feel nude when to where I'm destined I'm compared.

Speak to me in the light of the dawn, mercy comes with the morning
I will sigh, and with all creation groan, as I wait for hope to come for me

- C.S. Lewis Song
, Brooke Fraser

Friday, October 30, 2009

Lost at Sea

I've been lost at sea.
Sometimes sailing off into the sun
On gentle waves to unknown blissful realms,
But then suddenly its a queasy and uncertain drift and
I am seasick from the turning of my thoughts and
Wondering where the wind will blow and
If I brought a rescue kit.

Maybe it's silly,
But my head and my heart hurt so bad.
I'm over-thunk and under-slept
My eyes are stiff and my gut is tight.
I guess this is what it feels like.

Back and forth my mind sways in happy sadness
Mindless feeling -- what is this?
To be so easily subdued, so mastered...
Pulled along by those invisible winds.

Stop. Anchor this ship.
Feelings aside, something's not right.

You say:
"Let's jump in."

And I could --
Because I have become vulnerable.
Attached to a friendship I really don't want to lose.
Before this I thought I was a rock.
But I am not made of stone like I thought.

Yes, I could float around till who knows when...

But I can't --
Because I need to find my course
And not be lost at sea anymore.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

See the Light of Life and Be Satisfied

Daughter of Zion lift up your head.
All day and night your river of tears
Flowing.
We sit on the ground in silence.
We have learned to ignore all prophets, false or true.
Because nothing is certain, not even what we see.

Upright (wo)men see Your face.
And how we want to see Your face
Radiant!
To know You in perfection.
Yet, doubt is ever-present, a beggar and a thief.
And we are found without oil for the light.

Can one so perverse ever be steadfast?
Pride is obscured, made wholesome,
Saintly.
And we grasp for veins of truth.
Show us our wickedness, sickness and spite.
Refresh and restore us, O Giver of life.

Soaked red, the defendant pled,
And lo! You remembered naught.
Love!
O, what is this limitless love?
The banner over all suffering, sorrow, grief.
Faithfulness is what we long to see and be.

Who is God besides our God?
Who makes injustice shut its mouth
Forever.
His compassions never fail.
We are not consumed because of His great love.
With Him we suffer, and are satisfied.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Apparently What I Do At Work.

We just had a dark and heavy thunderstorm, with a couple power outages, which was so random, because all day it's been hot and sunny with blue skies. It only lasted 30 minutes, and it is back to normal again now.

If you know me, you know I love thunderstorms. I have no doubt that my overactive imagination contributes, but I just get this ominous feeling like all of the heavens are trying to express something. There are so many different moods to thunderstorms: sometimes they are just these crazy schizo things [listen: George Bruns 'Battle With the Forces of Evil'], or sometimes they are very triumphant [Beethoven's 9th Symphony]. Other times it's more of a lethargic, ill-boding consciousness, like the lazy, sick feeling you get after eating too much. And then they can also be really peaceful, and just have this calming effect [Erik Satie's 'Gymnopédies']. I just love them.

I know it sounds silly, but sometimes I just imagine thunderstorms as the groaning of creation (Rom. 8:22), or of all of heaven grieving over the state of things here on earth. Or, that heaven is trying to get our attention, either shouting or whispering something eternal to us. Declaring His glory (Ps. 19:1).

I always feel really reflective and deep in or after a storm. I get mentally transported to another place. It seems to always take something (even small) that snaps us out of monotony to make us think about things we usually ignore.

Anyway, back to work.

Friday, May 15, 2009

The tips of my fingers hurt.


This summer one of my goals is to learn some basics of guitar. So every day since coming home from school I have been trying to get the hang of some chords and to get comfortable changing finger positions. So far I’ve got C, D, Em, G, and A memorized. I tried to figure out F, but realized it was going to be far too tricky. I have short fingers which makes things extra challenging (yes I am using that as an excuse); I can’t reach more than an octave on the piano either. (My piano teachers always loved that…)

Besides just loving to hear acoustic guitar, there is another reason I am pushing myself to do this. I have issues with discipline, and I want to see if I can stick to this all summer, and maybe make some actual improvement! I'll admit, most times I end up back at the piano where my fingers get a happy break.

Not to get too deep, but I was thinking for a bit earlier about how this is a lot like our walks of faith. We test the waters, trying to stretch ourselves even if it hurts, because we know the end result will be worth it. Our spiritual "finger-tips" become uncomfortably sore as we struggle to be disciplined. Sometimes we give up, walking away to something less troublesome and more comfortable, but, with time, the new things we're learning aren't so hard anymore, and eventually become elementary too. Our Teacher keeps pushing us. No guitar (or other musical) legend got where they are without a ton of practice, and no steadfast man or woman of God hasn't struggled to be disciplined as well. The lessons are never finished...

Some Songs I've Learned:
Blowin’ in the Wind – Bob Dylan
Summer Rain – Anna Ternheim (with a wretched attempt at an F#m chord)
Blackbird - The Beatles (but don't ask me about technicalities! I learned this one by ear)

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

While At the Mall

yesterday I realized that...

CONVENIENCE ≠ happiness

In fact, it seems to leave me more:
  • impatient
  • unappreciative
  • unimaginative
  • unskilled
  • selfish
  • unaware
  • etc., you get the picture...