Day 4

Wired, wired it up.
Phone lines, phone lines all tangled up.
13, that’s when.
That is when you started it again.
Because you never answered me.
You never explained how to live.
I always was wired.
I was on it.
I was with it.
I was asking for you to listen to
It.
I was raised with You.
I saw the things called blue.
Why was everything black,
Or all white like this town?
I wish you would hover,
I wish you could cover,
I never made it anyway,
You are the one who created
The color.
Phone lines all tangled up
Because I never knew who to
Trust and who to listen to.
I was wired to that television,
I was wired to the notebook too,
I was wired and talking,
I was endlessly dreaming.
I was caught up in the same,
When all you ever wanted
Was to teach me about change.
I am still wired,
But I am tired.
Countless hours going backwards,
Countless minutes wasting away.
Wired is the theme,
But letting go is the
Dream.

Day 2

I am making it up as I go,

Cause everytime I wake up I just know,

I started to script it out,

I started to sort it out,

All the things I’ve learned for You,

All the things I chose not to do,

All the memories to cling to,

I told night 1 to stay in the run,

To stay in the walk,

To walk with the chalk,

To right it write,

And to step into destiny.

You raised me for free,

But is has costed everything

To survive,

To edge on it,

To swerve with it.

We all fall apart,

And I am still picking up your

Pieces,

I can’t make it up as I go,

Because I go,

I wonder the slow,

I wonder the wall that

Stands tall,

It stays within,

The day to begin.

I am the castle,

I am sinking in it,

Deeper now,

I am up, I am day

2, I am in, I am in the blue,

Clear and ready,

Sinking sweetly,

I know you are out there,

Ready to raise me,

To raise me again.

Raised, Pt. 2

What you want,

Is what you can’t find,

Cause sun was always on the

Hide,

It was always on the rise,

You made some light,

You carried it tight,

Locked, and surely

Never right,

Tomorrow the shades are getting

Darker,

The purity is burning away

With all the vile things love

Can say,

I wanted to go there to,

Down and up,

And moving towards the shameless

Role I knew you could always play,

I was raised to hunger,

I was raised to wonder,

I was raised to stay under

The covers,

And ask you now?

Can you stay there,

Can you be the one to

Stop this madness,

I was raised with a pure dream,

Now its just a nightmare to

Stay asleep,

These eyes are bright for

You,

Made light for you,

It could kill me soon,

To see you to soon,

To swallow some stars

Without the moon,

I too had to start somewhere,

Raised in pieces,

Still picking them up,

Raised to see,

And that is the

Next part,

Actually seeing..

Facebook Updates

I go back and forth with how much I post on my Facebook. One of the things that I like to do in response to negativity, complaining, or even overshare of personal things..is to post encouraging and challenging thoughts. I posted this last night.

The biggest difference between joy and happiness.

Happiness is temporal based on uncertain circumstances. As long as “this or that” is good I am happy.

Joy is eternal and not limited to the present circumstance. Joy is having God’s perspective while uncertain things take place.

Joy is having an umbrella and also trusting that without one you will still make it through the storm.

Mathew 5:45.. and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.

Joy is a internal peace that will enable us to stand in dark, troublesome, and even fearful events.

Joy is evidence that you are trusting in what we don’t see.

Joy is supernatural and a practice. Re-Joice means to practice Joy over and over and over again(thanks Kris Vallotton for that quote)

Joy gets more sentences then happiness because it lasts longer.

Older

You can’t be this stuck. Like mud, like slipping, like missing it always. But, that is how you feel?

And maybe its the right path. Maybe it is no longer maybe. It’s is a now. It is a suddenly. You can’t be this naive either. You sat on it for years. For fears. For further evidence look at the way you have spent your time.

Look at the way you have spent your money. Look at all the things you have saved, and the scraps you have thrown away. Look at your life. That is the proof that you need. You are stressed out because You have to keep giving. No one is asking. You are a mess, but a good mess. A good kind of wreck.

This heart is broken. It really feels that way. Things have not changed. I miss a lot of people and I can’t go back.

And I hate it when people share to much online. But I got time. I got a lot of time to stop wasting.

To start speaking. Truth. The Ruckus was never for me, it was for us. It was Fort Collins, Loveland and everything high school. It was everything we did and didn’t do. It was adolescence.

It was where we owe a lot. I am sorry world, I am not really. I have moved on. I don’t know if this is for you, but its all for me. That sound selfish. That sounds like, “who is this guy,” he doesn’t need anymore attention..or does he?” I know I have always pressed publish really fast. I know I have spent all day looking at the past. All the receipts. All the expenses. All the bounced checks. All the fees. All the parking in the wrong place tickets. Forward. Forward is a must.

Balance can never be achieved by trying to be balanced. It can’t. I think 3 years ago I started over. And its still a process. I felt it daily. I spent 5 months sitting still.

I spent a lot of time watching the white walls. And washing the night fall. Time after time. By Disneyland, of all places. Fireworks nightly. The best part. Selling cigarettes for quarters. Quarters for calls. And a long list of people to talk to.

No one wants to know everything about you. Maybe your spouse is that person and that seems like that sounds healthy. No one really needs to know everything about you.

However, why do we feel like no one understands us? I can talk a lot about stories. Some that have made this blog. More that are in video form, and even more that just live in this movie of a mind I have.

No one really needs to know it all. People that love you just want you to be around. They want you to last a really long time. I got to see my little nephews get big and grow up. Noah Kai and Jedidiah Sky. They are moving forward, too. You know?

I don’t have good grammar. I have worked more on pursuing good stories. Now, its a new season. Its fall. It is closer to the holidays. It is when everything gets darker, and colder. We are expected to be at our brightest.

How can you be, if no one knows you? I got out of that place. I was there for five months. It wasn’t a prison. It was freedom. It was pain facing. It was life changing.

It was better than riding the circuit. See, now that I am out its been harder to have boundaries. I don’t mean relational boundaries. Most of us have never figured that out.

You like someone and you share your heart, and your thoughts and then it doesn’t or it does work out. Is having boundaries related to how little you say or don’t say? And don’t people get mad at you when you hold and hide and don’t confide in them?

No one has to know everything. The Ruckus is going. It is continuance. It is a noise that will carry. Can’t we stare at love a little more? Can’t you stop chasing the wrong kind of noise? Love has to be the loudest noise you chase.

It will make you. Break you. Ruin you. It will start your day. It will flee those long nights.

Older. That’s you now. That is where you are at. Time just is what it is, but it can’t be controlled. It can’t go back on you, and you can’t go back on it. A new it. A new life. A new hole in the sky is here tonight, today, tomorrow. The Ruckus. That is any noise you can make. That is any commotion you can create. The Ruckus without love is, well, just getting older. Older without love is just age. And everyone dies, eventually.. Am I an age? Just 30. Almost 31. You got a lot left in you. I know you do.

You got a lot of time to make things right. To live right. To be anything more than just a number, an age. Be older. Be forward. Be the Ruckus. Cause I had five months, and that’s all you need sometimes.

Sermon At My Church

I got to preach last month at our Sunday night service. Got to speak on Righteousness. It has been such a blessing being at New Life in Pomona. I love this place! Thank you Cody, Craig and Billy.

How to Help your Kids with Depression

My mom has helped me so much over the years be more than just a default I need your help parent but has been my rock and my friend. Just like the into the light video this is the start of a series of videos tackling depression. My mom talks about what a parent can do. Filmed where it all went down in Laguna Niguel at Salt Creek beach.

Lies in the cracks

I am new to daily life,

I am new to mundane

An expert at insane,

Sugar addiction,

Love friction,

Lack of fruit for this

Cup I feel is never to

Full–

Lies in the cracks,

Lies in the backs that walk

This earth–

Oh God, I have no answers for the futures that

Await me–

Just kids play in the background–

I am weak in every way of the word,

I am on that couch again where you

Sit with me,

A couch family was rarely felt,

Its strips of rips of cloths of colors

Blurred blue now,

Embarased–for I can’t even spell it right,

Never did I like that house we lived in,

It was always shaking,

It was always faking its appearance upon

Me, mountain view behind us,

But heavy rocks upon us—

Where is wrath now?

Upon the world or in

The home? Safety was never

Found, church affairs, no one

Sees your family life, the way you

Use the knife with words to send

Your kids out the door, to tell your

Wife no more saying no to me,

I am the man, submit to me..

Hummmm…ahmmmm..

Really?

Video Replay

Daily is a mystery

Forged in the mundane

Starved out in the rain—puddles of

Pain they passed out then—everything is

A movie played on replay,

I was once the seed,

Crafted before birth to

Carry the berth

Called it purpose before,

Called it wanting to explore

Call it love for more, never settled

Never satisfied—blood that is red,

Pain that is a guide always looking

For the wrong kind—how has one changed?

How does one gage it?

Seed to bread now ready to feed

‘The lips of the righteous feed many,’

The dead give every penny,

Every last mite, every last might,

Every last late night, every last part

Of the oil it takes in the toil it takes

To keep on giving—

This life is like a video played on replay—

Used to be shut in, used to be closed up,

Used to be in the crowd all the time—

But every last drop has been spilt,

Every last bit of You has been poured out—

Alive is the replay of the video mind you have

Given to me—

Shut in no longer, seed no longer,

Now something stronger,

Something of vinegar they gave You

On the edge of my sword I pierced You—

That man that suffered in the flesh

That stayed silent as He was defiant

Against the accusation—

Honor is a hollow tragedy no longer

Filled in with the story of glory You have

Written—

Bread is where I am, feeding on love

Instead, vultures are above, the sea is

Below filled in is hollow—

The shut in man has nowhere to run

Just stays on the run—

Facing it, facing the world, facing your life—

That is all it takes sometimes—

Let mercy be on replay

For this video of a life You have

Given me

Tablet Heart

Tablet crack

Glory shack

Movable temple

Shekinah rental

Skin and bones with

Valley tones

Connected in wrath

Remembered in mercy

Plain tablet

Father cabinet

Dead president

You swirled in regret

Made a dent

Slaving for rent, town

Mountain and tent—

Thirsty summer, better

Than winter—

Heart on the table

Truth verse fable

Oral passing of God

Digressing—get up now,

To the high place

For gold is on the bottom

Carved with boredom—

Before Kingdom come was

Kingdom now without a crown—

On the edges was the man on fire—

Down to the place where lust did pace

The tablets cracked and back up at last—

Shack of shackles in this wilderness—

Freedom was the curse and I thirst for

Garlic—king Pharaoh and the sparrow hold

The same affection for the heart of misdirection—

Hardened is a mystery and little is why I worry—

Better shoes with glory clues—

100 feet a day for the feast to go away—

Filled to our nostrils is the wandering

Pentecostal—manifesting without love,

Twitching without truth, falling over just

Because—without love it’s a circumcised

Memory, the outer is perishing, the law like

A cavity, love like gravity—which weighs more?

Power or just being on the floor? The tablet is new

Now with new rules and new flesh and new songs

To sing inside what freedom brings—we don’t all

Go to the same place—but this tablet called love

Has written it upon me to stay seeking You as

You write it on me those clues of destiny

A tablet heart burning with truth, let how

One lives be the proof