We write our New Year’s resolutions but we had them all along. Each year is progress…
I really would like to try to explain the meanings behind the last 30 days, but I will say a few themes that have been on my mind that have been expressed in these 60 days.
One theme is working. It is the idea of a right or wrong view of work. When I am talking about the rig and digging and this language of living on a farm it is a combination of the language of scripture and also a reality of life. So many issues that the Millenial’s have is rooted in this notion that working is not a part of life. No one really would ever say that but the forced reality of having to work hard does invade rather then persuade.
When you are forced to grow up you do grow up, but it is not as productive as we would think it would be. However, when vision takes a hold of your life and you gain a YES perspective to life( comes from God) then things start to change.
To the writer’s and the creative people. It is time just to do it. You have your process and you feel like it never stops( lol..me too) but you don’t need to spend more time talking about your desire to write stories or make films; or, do a lot of things that revolve around telling a story that can and will touch those around you.
Digging Again into the vision for your life. 2 Cor. 1:19-22.
19 For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, who was preached among you by us—by me and Silas[c] and Timothy—was not “Yes” and “No,” but in him it has always been “Yes.” 20 For no matter how many promises God has made, they are “Yes” in Christ. And so through him the “Amen” is spoken by us to the glory of God. 21 Now it is God who makes both us and you stand firm in Christ. He anointed us, 22 set his seal of ownership on us, and put his Spirit in our hearts as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.
60 Days of Poetry..
Are you good enough?
Or are you just not good?
Good news is bad news to the unwise,
Now I’ve spent all my life trying to please you,
To many late nights spent on the hallway
Preparation, on the popular anticipation,
Hooded shirts and shiny shoes,
I’ve spent it all on the color black,
I wish now that I could take all that time back,
On the rig, we were builders of our own dreams,
We were inventors behind the curtains,
We were ineffably uncertain,
We would easily have been shaken
But we were taught not to be,
Not to be, even at all
I was born with a pen in hand,
With all the things I wouldn’t comprehend,
Who ever is good enough?
Sanded sides of you,
Used to give it all up,
Now I am moonlighting as a
Lover, now I am part time romance,
Full time angst,
Full time choler now,
Full time roller now,
On the rig, we had different colors,
Different winters, different Novembers,
Different ways of getting older,
On the rig I had you, I had that shared
Space where we learned about grace,
I had protection,
I had hidden intention from you,
In all my performing for you,
I had a life of getting new,
I had the gig to get ready for,
I had the life of wanting more
I, too, had a rig to live on,
A gig to perform on,
A family of dreamers,
A lifetime of pain to come
Ahead not just for me,
But for anyone looking
To get ahead
It’s a midnight memory
Yes, I stole that from One Direction
Misguided I am by the pop culture
Fandom wrapped in stardom we
Call the news today—
I am thirsty however for
What is true, I am pressed up
Against all that is not new,
Not newness, not goodness,
Yes, this is God’s patience—
A hard pressed life one against
The loveless and the wreckless
But for love it all changes and
Rearranges the insides of our heart’s
Deepest desires—I too stay up late
Sipping coffee when I should be asleep
But I to crave the right kind of midnight
One with oil, one with a red eyed flight
To that place called perfection, called
Burn in me a new getaway, called Zion’s
Jetway, it’s a continuing city, it’s a windy
Skyline, it’s a golden bridge in due time,
It’s a winding road and I am lost whenever
You go—do not leave us here dead in our
Sins, hopped up on trespassing in the highway
Flourishing—I too am a palm tree to flourish
And a pain to nourish in Your eyes, I too am
A midnight memory but when I see You let
Me in, let me sit, let me not be the one you
Cast out—more oil for the midnight days
Ahead—its all for You!