05/31/14

In a short time a group of commissioners arrived to begin organization of a new Indian agency in the valley. One of them mentioned the advantages of schools for Joseph's people. Joseph replied that the Nez Perces did not want the white man's schools.
"Why do you not want school?" the commissioner asked.
"They will teach us to have churches," Joseph answered.
"Do you not want churches?"
"No, we do not want churches."
"Why do you not want churches?"
"They will teach us to quarrel about God," Joseph said. "We do not want to learn that. We may quarrel with men sometimes about things on this earth, but we never quarrel about God. We do not want to learn that."
-The Flight of the Nez Perces, Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee by Dee Brown

One does not sell the earth upon which the people walk.
-Tashunka Witko (Crazy Horse)

As soon as the dancing was finished, many of the young men rode off to Texas to hunt buffalo and raid the Texans who had taken their lands. They were especially angry against white hunters who were coming down from Kansas to kill thousands of bison; the hunters took only the skins, leaving the bloody carcasses to rot on the Plains. To the Kiowas and Comanches the white men seemed to hate everything in nature. "This country is old," Satanta had scolded Old Man of the Thunder Hancock when he met him at Fort Larned in 1867. "But you are cutting off the timber, and now the country is of no account at all." At Medicine Lodge Creek he complained again to the peace commissioners: "A long time ago this land belonged to our fathers; but when I go up to the river I see camps of soldiers here on its banks. These soldiers cut down my timber; they kill my bison; and when I see that, my heart feels like bursting; I feel sorry."
-The War to Save the Buffalo

"Their needs are so few that they do not wish to adopot civilized habits," Meeker complained to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs. "What we call conveniences and comforts are not sufficiently valued by them to cause them to undertake to obtain them by their own efforts...the great majority look upon the white man's ways with indifference and contempt."
-The Utes Must Go!

What would this "country" look like if Europeans had never colonized even a pinch of dirt?
What would this "country" look like if America hadn't lied, murdered, and sinned against the people who were here first?

I wonder how many types of animals we would see that no longer walk the earth.
I wonder how tall and many trees there would be. How thick and powerful their trunks would be.
I wonder how "advanced" the culture would be.
I wonder about the beauty that has been replaced by asphalt and corn.

Who were the savages?
Who were the uncivilized?
Who were the wise peoples?

In this life as I have mentioned before it seems like once something is broken it can never be set right. There are races of people that are extinct, wiped off the earth. Voices never to be heard.

My heart feels like bursting, I feel sorry.

Willow Tree March - The Paper Kites

05/28/14

Perhaps the most serious obstacle to a recovery of the full meaning of creation is the growing irrelevance of God. To be sure, many in our time speak the language of God and religion in hymns of adoration and praise, the litanies of petition and lament. But it is, for the most part, a forced language, ornamental and hollow, since there is little in our practical experience that feeds and sustains such language, that keeps it honest. We are unaware that our language is false because the conditions that would enable us to recognize or feel with honesty and depth the presence of God are mostly gone. Though we may claim that God exists, it does not matter, since the patterns of our day-to-day lives, as well as the goals of our culture, proceed on terms set by economic demands and without reference to God... As we have become controllers of our own fate, God has simply become an unnecessary hypothesis. We rather than God, run the world.
-The Irrelevance of God, The Paradise of God by Norman Wirzba

As I stood outside the apartment around midnight locked out trying to get the key to unlock the door I started to pray. "Please Jesus let this unlock, please I am tired, I just want to sleep." As the hour passed I admitted defeat having slept only 4 hours the night before, fasting all day and finally it being the midnight hour I turned towards my car to sleep in it.

After the following day I called Alan's mom to see if I could stay at their place. She obviously welcomed me in with open arms. The Taste of Cincinnati was going on so we walked around down town for a while. After we got food she and I sat in fountain square for hours talking.

We talked about my internship in Norwood. We talked about my past relationships. We talked about my future relationships. We talked about the roommate drama with Ellen. We talked about Alan. We talked about her first marriage, how she felt about it and if she had seen him since. We talked about what it's like to get older. During our conversation she confessed to me that she is an atheist although because that word feels so negative she merely said she simply doesn't believe.

We talked about her doubts what it's like to grow up as a pastor's daughter and then to have a son who is a pastor. I told her Christianity skips a generation. As the sun was beginning to fall we started to walk back to her apartment. We watched the Reds lose to St. Louis then I slept in their guest room.

The next day I woke up and attempted the lock and key yet again. Yet again I couldn't do it. Eventually I buzzed one of the other apartments until a large angry man came to the stairs and let me in. I was overwhelmed with joy and thanked him several times.

I collected my stuff, changed clothes, and drove to Yellow Springs. As I was walking around John Bryan park I started to reflect on the past few days.

Why didn't God answer my prayers about the lock?
Is it because God doesn't exist?
Is it because I didn't NEED God's help?
Or is it because God had other things for me?

Without that lock failing I wouldn't have had to rely on Sara to give me a place to stay. Without contacting Sara I wouldn't have experienced the Taste and we certainly never would have had hours of conversation about life and God.

Without that lock failing I wouldn't have had to rely on a stranger in Apartment A to come let me in. I wouldn't have buzzed the shit out of his apartment.

I hate asking for things. I hate bothering people. I hate being a burden. But isn't that exactly what we are supposed to be in this world? Dependent on each other? A community of giving and receiving? I hate leaning on others, I hate not being self sufficient.

Why didn't God answer my prayers about the lock?

Oscar Isaac - Switchable City

05/26/14

Memorial Day at the Pantry

2011

2012

2013

05/21/14

Yes, after seventy years the Lord will revive Tyre. But she will be no different than she was before. She will again be a prostitute to all kingdoms around the world. But in the end her profits will be given to the Lord. Her wealth will not be hoarded but will provide good food and fine clothing for the Lord’s priests.
-Isaiah 23

I often wonder about this life we live.
I spend some of my time with homeless people who seem so hopelessly addicted to chemicals and habits. The funding for proper programs to offer mental health counseling instead of pills and the recovery groups would never see its way through our law making system.

I often wonder what happens to the victims of addictions.
How does God view the sins of those who are oppressed by a system of sin?
What choices do they have?
How can anyone expect them to "pull themselves up by their boot straps?"

And then I read things like this in the bible.

I see great sin turned into great good.

I see the invisible forgotten people of this world stuck in their systems of sin transformed into doers of great good.

Tyre may still be a prostitute but the end of the story is different. There is hope lining the pages of these words. Always hope.

The profits she makes will be given to the Lord. Her wealth will be shared throughout the kingdoms and will provide good food and fine clothing!

Is God ok with using the money earned through prostitution?
Is God ok with using drug money to feed and clothe those who have not?

What sort of God is this that can turn anything into beauty?

What God is this that after 70 years Tyre still continues to sin and yet we do not find another 70 years piled on her sentence but instead we find redemption? We find beauty in a most grim place.

As I see generational poverty
alcoholism
drug addictions
mental health issues
systems of oppression
in this most grim a place I find beauty.
I find hope.
I find love.
I find God.

Abel Korzeniowski - And Just Like That

05/17/14

Eating what others throw away brings new thoughts into my head and feelings in my heart.

As I stand cutting left over tomatoes and slicing onions I think about how much one of these can feed. How much the earth gives to us and how little we need.

I think about how everything has such a different taste and yet it is all good.

A whole onion on its own is gross but hints of it among other foods enhances the whole bowl.

We take what the earth gives us. What pride it is to demand satisfaction of whatever we crave. Eating what is left over what has been thrown away creates a lifestyle of open hands. Pride cannot coexist with open hands.

The hardest part of going on an adventure is getting past my front porch. The beauty of the trees, the grass, the bushes, the sounds of the birds, the squirrels, the people walking, the cars rolling past, It seems like all my heart can take. How could I go any further than this place with so much beauty it would take a lifetime just to digest this tiny view.

Yet there is so much more. There are deserts, mountains, oceans, rivers, valleys, jungles, forests, caves, so many many places each of them too deep for one life and yet one is all I am given.

I think about evolution. I think about this world if God doesn't exist.

Why do we need rest?
Why do we walk on two legs?
Why are we so much more "advanced" than everything else?

How did plants and animals evolve?

Animals need plants to eat, What if the first animal wasn't near plants? what if there wasn't enough plants to sustain that single animals life? Who did that animal reproduce with? What if there wasn't enough food for that animal? What if those species were too different to reproduce? What if the plant didn't have enough nutrients for the animal? What if the animal ate something poisonous?

What if a cold winter killed off the plant? Drought? How did the plant get phosphorus without the animal to fertilize it how did the plant get nitrogen without other plants breaking down?

I sit here as I chew a tomato and I think about how tightly woven the earth is to create one simple tomato. The plant needs the sun, it also needs soil not just any soil but it must have nutrients in it. That nutrients had to come from other plants which needed other plants which... and the nutrients also have to come from animals which eat plants. Then along with sun and soil it needed rain. But rain needs so many things for it to happen too. It needs the sun to help evaporate the water in order to make clouds which needs a certain type of atmosphere. The clouds need wind to move them over where the tomato seed is laying. All of this and so much more for one plant to grow and bear it's fruit for a very small window. We have to come along and hope to find it and eat it not too soon and not too late...

I am utterly blown away and in awe when my head considers these things my heart listens romantically.

No God?
No creator?
How?

Then there is me, tiny me. I am alive for maybe 80 years, that is such a short time. What if I was blind?

However, the understanding that I have massive amounts of faith in there being a God doesn't mean I automatically believe my life is going to be bad ass and perfect.

As I see how many people are on the planet and how our resources although they are renewable are limited I begin to change my approach to life.

Jesus said we must become the servant of all just as He is.

What does that look like?

What if being the servant of all means cutting out pride in my life?

What does that look like?

Cutting out my desires and instead, seeking to live for God, Earth, and my brothers and sisters. Instead of following my desires to choose my meals what if I ate what was thrown away, what was available? Instead of chasing money and stepping on people to get power, what if I let others get promoted above me? What if I chose an entry level service job to stay at? What if instead of pursuing my desires for a wife and family I devoted myself to all of my friends to babysit, to serve, to work and clean, help them move.

The more Christians I talk to the more they seem to have this idea that God has good planned for all of us and that God wants us happy. God put those desires in me for a reason. But if we stop and think for a moment, there is only so much beach front property on this planet.

There are two sides to every coin.

For every marriage there is a man who doesn't get to be with that woman.
For every meal there is someone who doesn't get to eat that food.
For every job there is someone who didn't get hired.

Are we Christians called to grab what we can out of this life? Or are we called to be the servants? Are we called to fill in the gaps where no one else wants to?

Marriage is a beautiful thing
God doesn't want us to starve ourselves
God doesn't want us to be unemployed

But we shouldn't be grabbing and chasing and living with the same sort of pride as those who have not encountered love yet.

For a long time now I have been pining for a wife.
But I'm watching 3 couples I know go through divorce before reaching 3 years. Another of my friends looks like a fucking Stepford husband. All of this for what? because loneliness is too great a fear in our lives that we make choices we shouldn't? Or we quit a marriage because our selfish desires and pride aren't getting met by this other person?

Sometimes I don't know what hurts more
Loneliness or settling.

Why have I always wanted a wife? This whole time I have been missing what God has been giving. My hands have been closed along with my eyes.

But now I am starting to open them. I'm starting to ask why.

Not that I wasn't before but I think I'm asking why at the correct angles now.

It isn't good for man to be alone. That is truth
Happiness is only real when shared. That is very true.

But how limitless are the ways we can be not alone and we can share happiness!

What if I threw this life away so that others may find life in the trash!

I don't know what the hell I'm talking about. Sometimes if I let my head think too much it goes to really weird places. It feels good to empty those thoughts out though. I'll never have the balls to throw away my life like Jesus says because I fear no one would go with me and it isn't good to be alone.

But to take this one life I have and to spend it at a simple job, leaving the other opportunities open. To take this life and spend it eating food that's been thrown away, leaving the fresh food open. To take this life and spend it single, leaving the beautiful wonderful women for other men to marry. TO take this life and spend it childless, Fighting population rise, and allowing other hungry mouths to eat.

Is it possible to live like this for the duration of my life?
Could I really live with such conviction?
Would I get too lonely?
Would I get too depressed?

I've rambled too long I'm done thinking.

Perfect peace - John Waller

05/14/14

Reconciliation
Redemption
Forgiveness

I use to think this stuff was rare because no one had the faith to follow Jesus in what He said.
Now I think it's because it doesn't happen. It's a fairy tale.

Sunday night we had a "roommate meeting" to see if we are all resigning the lease. What it turned out to be in reality was Ellen expressing all of her pent up judgments towards me.

She called me a sexist.
She was brought to tears at the thought of how I lure and rape women under the same roof as her.
She called me unapproachable.
Like an alcoholic father filled with rage at any moment she felt she couldn't talk to me.
She called me disrespectful.
I would lecture her and never let her finish sentences.

I sat there for the better part of an hour as she read her well organized, well thought out notebook of my flaws, sins, and insecurities.

As I expressed my shock and confusion I begged for opportunities for reconciliation, for a chance to save the four of us living together. I thought surely an ordained pastor of a church plant who prides itself on meeting the sinners of the world at the fridges would have compassion.

But she expressed how she is unable to actually live with such fringe people, however we may be able to be friends at a very safe distance.

I felt condemned.
I felt hopeless.

It felt like I was being dumped in the worst sort of way.
She was rejecting me and judging me saying that living under the same roof as me is a task she finds unbearable.

It brought back letters left in my room from my mom saying we should keep our distance.
It brought back memories of phone calls with Whitney begging for another chance.
It brought back my heart read to Bea begging for forgiveness.

Have I changed?
Can people change?

Is forgiveness actually possible? I don't mean small forgiveness. I mean the real ones. The times when I hurt people I care about very deeply. The times when they are brought to tears because of my words and actions. The times when they finally say ENOUGH to me. Can people come back from things like that?

I see Jared going through his divorce.
I see his brother Jordon going through his too.

No redemption.

Love keeps no record of wrongs.

Is that even possible? What would that even look like?
An abused wife keeping no record as her husband beats her again?

Of course love keeps records how can it not?

I spend my time in these churches, these places preaching redemption but I walk out of the building and I hear the homeless speak with such vengeance. Or I see people I love deeply tell me to stay away.

Forgiveness?
Love?
Grace?

I have my doubts.

I saw this on instagram and I know I feel like a damn middle school girl for reading this stuff and finding it interesting but this is the true story of life. This is reality. Not this redemption reconciliation forgiveness grace stuff. The truth is we cannot undo what we have done.

Once something is broken it will never be what it once was.

This is my life. A collection of broken plates that I pray to God to restore them. I have yet to see one plate restored. I walk this life like a bull in a china shop

breaking broken people.

The longer you live the harder it is to hope.
The longer you live the harder it is to open.

I wonder if everyone views me as this sort of man.
Angry
Stubborn
Sexist
Cheap

Does everyone I know talk about me this way behind my back?
Why wouldn't my friends tell me?
Why wouldn't they try to lift me out of this pit?

This whole situation makes me want to become completely taciturn.

I'm afraid to be who I am
I'm afraid to say what I think because maybe what I think is mean, sexist, evil.

I'm tired of my own thoughts.
They keep me up at night. They are ceaseless during the day. Focusing on flaws and worries, no matter how hard I try to change even when I feel as if I am making progress someone in my life whom I care about will have to sit me down and explain my caring for them is hurting them and they'd rather not be around me any longer.

I'm afraid to go to Europe for two weeks with these three people.
Will I annoy them to the point where their trip is ruined?
Will I offend them so there is angry silence?
Will I attempt to be helpful but only end up sounding superior and controlling?

Who can anyone trust?
Who can I open up to who won't throw my vulnerability back at me as a weapon?

I spend all this time, these past months feeling like I've changed. Like I'm not angry any more and I'm winning the battle against fear. Then in one slow conversation with Ellen she undoes any thing I thought I had done.

I am exactly the same as I've always been.

Angry
Worried
Stubborn

These are the words spoken about me behind my back these are the planks shooting out of my face that everyone can see.

I feel insane at the thought of my self perception versus the perception of everyone who sees me.

Like I'm looking into a trick mirror and I see a man who is making progress to be a better man but everyone sees the reality of my delusion I'm exactly who I've always been.

Now I am back to battling self hatred as Ellen as brought train loads of ammunition and reinforcements to the fort inside my mind to continue to war against myself. Only now I'm afraid to talk to anyone about what I think and feel. What if my thoughts are too ugly and I lose what friends I have that remain?

It's better to fight this battle alone in my head than risk being alone in this world.

the Soil & the Sun - An Unnamed Song

05/11/14

King Mesha of Moab was a sheep breeder. He used to pay the king of Israel an annual tribute of 100,000 lambs and the wool of 100,000 rams. But after Ahab’s death, the king of Moab rebelled against the king of Israel. So King Joram promptly mustered the army of Israel and marched from Samaria. On the way, he sent this message to King Jehoshaphat of Judah: “The king of Moab has rebelled against me. Will you join me in battle against him?” And Jehoshaphat replied, “Why, of course! You and I are as one. My troops are your troops, and my horses are your horses.” Then Jehoshaphat asked, “What route will we take?” “We will attack from the wilderness of Edom,” Joram replied. The king of Edom and his troops joined them, and all three armies traveled along a roundabout route through the wilderness for seven days. But there was no water for the men or their animals. “What should we do?” the king of Israel cried out. “The Lord has brought the three of us here to let the king of Moab defeat us.” But King Jehoshaphat of Judah asked, “Is there no prophet of the Lord with us? If there is, we can ask the Lord what to do through him.” One of King Joram’s officers replied, “Elisha son of Shaphat is here. He used to be Elijah’s personal assistant.” Jehoshaphat said, “Yes, the Lord speaks through him.” So the kings of Israel, Judah, and Edom went to consult with Elisha. “Why are you coming to me?” Elisha asked the king of Israel. “Go to the pagan prophets of your father and mother!” But King Joram of Israel said, “No! For it was the Lord who called us three kings here—only to be defeated by the king of Moab!” Elisha replied, “As surely as the Lord Almighty lives, whom I serve, I wouldn’t even bother with you except for my respect for King Jehoshaphat of Judah. Now bring me someone who can play the harp.” While the harp was being played, the power of the Lord came upon Elisha
-2 Kings 3

Now bring me someone who can play the harp.

"Ah, music! A magic beyond all we do here!"
-Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone - 1991-1992

What is this magic we call music?

Music was played while the power of the Lord came upon Elisha.
Music was sung on the slave ships as they crossed the Atlantic Ocean.
Music was sung in the Nazi concentration camps.
Music was sung while Paul and Silas were imprisoned.

Music is a great magic one we cannot seem to grasp.

Music has the power to move us. It has the power to keep us moving. It has the power to lift us up. Music can give us hope. But what is music? It's just sound arranged.

The science of it makes no sense. Yet when I turn music on for my preschool class I see them uncontrollably start to move, start to dance. Why? How do they know to do this? How do infants know to start bobbing their heads?

Why did Elisha request someone who can play the harp? It doesn't seem to matter who plays the harp the important part of the request is the harp. He didn't request a certain song. The song isn't the important part of the request. It's the harp. It's the music.

The power of the Lord came upon Elisha as the harp was played by someone.
Saul's demons were soothed to David's harp.

What is this magic that can summon God's power, lift our spirits, sooth a possessed man, give us hope?

Music is such an important part of life, of worship.
I wonder if the power of the Lord falls as I attempt to play my sad excuse for songs on my guitar. I wonder if music is a more accurate prayer than words.

music is a lot like God
It cannot be seen
It cannot be captured
Even if it is recorded it still must be played again and again but that recording isn't music it is only the representation of music. Like a photograph of the sunrise, it can in no way do the real thing justice.
Music is not just one simple thing. It isn't simply one note, although it can be. It is the collection of many instruments, many notes, many styles, types, genres. It can be as simple as hands clapping, to voices humming. It can be as complex as a symphony to an orchestra.

Just like God there isn't one true way to worship, there isn't one true way to create music.
Just like God music can be as complex or as simple as we decide to explore.
Just like God we can choose to get the recording, the representation, the theology of someone else and simply copy that, or simply play that. Or we can create our own, we can dive deep we can invest, explore, experiment, fail, learn, love, trust, hope practice for the duration of our entire lives and still never master this magic known as "music."

music is like God. Everyone hears it some choose to call it music others call it noise.
Sometimes those who are deaf actually hear better than those who aren't.

Ludwig van Beethoven was deaf yet he composed some of the most beautiful music the Earth as heard. It reminds me of the blind man Jesus healed.

He replied, “I know nothing about that one way or the other. But I know one thing for sure: I was blind . . . I now see.” They said, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?” “I’ve told you over and over and you haven’t listened. Why do you want to hear it again? Are you so eager to become his disciples?” With that they jumped all over him. “You might be a disciple of that man, but we’re disciples of Moses. We know for sure that God spoke to Moses, but we have no idea where this man even comes from.” The man replied, “This is amazing! You claim to know nothing about him, but the fact is, he opened my eyes! It’s well known that God isn’t at the beck and call of sinners, but listens carefully to anyone who lives in reverence and does his will. That someone opened the eyes of a man born blind has never been heard of—ever. If this man didn’t come from God, he wouldn’t be able to do anything.” They said, “You’re nothing but dirt! How dare you take that tone with us!” Then they threw him out in the street.

The blind man saw who Jesus is yet the Pharisees who had sight were completely blind.

And this is the God of the universe, Deaf people compose beautiful music. Blind people see the savior of the world.

The scientists dissect the sound waves, they study the rhythm they capture it on recordings but yet they miss the whole thing.

Just as scientists treat the world we live in this 'reality' yet they miss the whole thing.

Why can the cello make me cry?
Why can the sunrise fill my heart?
Why can the drum make me dance?
Why can the mountains make me still?
Why can the strings make me smile?
Why can the trees make me shout?

Weddings
Funerals
Battles
Worship
Festivals
Celebrations
Peace
All of these occasions have music.

There is not only one way to music.
There is not only one style of music.
There is not only one way to God.
There is not only one style of worship.

Bombadil- One More Ring

05/10/14

It's All Crazy! It's All False! It's All a Dream! It's Alright

Every thought a Thought of You
No more thought, I ought to do...
When there ain't a thing we see
Or touch we trust is true
Every thought a thought of You

Every look in search of You
No need for book when we're with You
You wear a thin disguise,
O, Light within my Brother's eyes!
Every look in search of You

Every song in praise of You
Our darkest nights are days to You
The Trees raise branches high
Like arms in church to grateful Sky,
Every song in praise of You

No one here to believe but You
Everyone else is bound to leave but You
When they swear, their love is real, they mean
I like the way you make me feel
No one here to believe but You
There is no one here to believe but You

Kul-anaya fikr minh ka every thought is a thought of you
Abadan ahatmam enna ajab never concerned about what we should be
Hayya'alal falal qad qamadis alah Lets resolve to live in the manner God planned
Haqq: la illaha il Allah there is no God but God

mewithoutYou - Every Thought A Thought Of You


Through mostly vacant streets a Baker from the outskirts of his town earned his living peddling sweets from a ragged cart he dragged around.
The clever Fox crept close behind, kept an ever watchful eye for a chance to steal a Ginger spicecake or a Boysenberry pie.

Looking down was the hungry Crow:
When the time is right I'll strike and condescend to the earth below and take whichever treat I like!
The moment the Baker turned around to shoo the Fox off from his cart, the Crow swooped down and snatched a shortbread cookie and a German chocolate tart.
Using most unfriendly words that the village children had not yet heard, the Baker shouted threats by Canzonet to curse the crafty bird:
You rotten wooden mixing spoon!
Why, you midnight winged raccoon!
You'd better bring those pastries back, you no good, burnt-black-macaroon!!!

The Fox approached the tree where the bird was perched, delighted, in his nest:
Brother Crow, don't you remember me?
It's your old friend Fox with a humble request.
If you could share just a modest piece, seeing as I distracted that awful man...
This failed to persuade the Crow in the least, so the Fox rethought his plan:
Then, if your lovely song would grace my ears, or, to even hear you speak would ease my pains and fears.
The Crow looked down with the candy in his beak.
Your poems of wisdom, my Good Crow, what a paradise they bring!
This flattery pleased the proud bird so, he opened his mouth and began to sing:
Your subtle acclamation's true, best to give praise where praise is due.
Every Rook and Jay in the Corvidae has been Raven about me too!
They admire me, one and all... must be the passion in my 'Caw', my slender bill, known through the Escadrille, my fierce, commanding claw...

Ah, I've got a Walnut-brownie-brain and Molasses in my veins, crushed graham cracker crust, my powdered Sugar funnelcake cocaine.
Let the Crescent Cookie rise!
These Carob-colored Almond eyes would rest to see my Cashew Princess in the Swirling Marble Sky.
We'll rest upon the Knee where all divisions cease to be and rootbeer float in our Banana Boat across the Tapioca Sea.
When letting all attachments go is the only prayer we know.
May it be so, may it be so, may it be so, oh...
Amen

MeWithoutYou - The Fox, The Crow And The Cookie


The Angel of Death came to David's room
The Angel of Death came to David's room
The Angel of Death came to David's room
He said, "Friend, it's time to go"'

Angel, no, I think you've come too soon
Angel, no, I think you've come too soon
Angel, no, I think you've come too soon
It's not my time to go

Sorry friend, now put your hand in mine
I'm sorry friend, now put your hand in mine

But good Angel, don't I get a warning sign
Before it's my time to go?

Come now David, where's your Grandma gone?
Come now David, where's your Grandpa gone?
Come now David, where's your Grandma gone?
Their time came to go

But I slew Goliath with the sling and stone
I slew Goliath with the sling and stone
I slew Goliath with the sling and stone
It's not my time to go

He'll be waiting for you when we get back home
He'll be waiting for you when we get back home
He'll be waiting for you when we get back home
It's time, it's time to go

Come now David, where's your Momma gone?
Come now David, where've your Uncles gone?
Come now David, where've your Aunts all gone?
Their time came to go

Can I tell Solomon the things I've learned?
Can I tell Solomon the things I've learned?

I'm sorry, friend, that's none of my concern
It's time, it's time to go

Come now David where's Uriah gone?
Stranded on the battlefield, the troops withdrawn
Come now David, where's Uriah gone?
His time came to go

Come now David, where's Bathsheba gone?
And where've your binoculars and rooftops gone?
And the unexpected Baby from the bath night gone?
Their time came to go

Come now David, where is everybody goin'?

mewithoutYou- The Angel of Death Came to David's Room


The Farmer drove his tractor where the soil had been tilled, planting Corn in rank and file from the silo to the lumber mill.
He rode along in silence as he looked out past the Honeysuckle field, watched the water turn, turn the waterwheel.
Started thinking about his daughter with affection, her reaction of disdain the day he replaced the blue Hydrangea with the climbing frame, while her disappointed Sister looked on, quiet as the snow, knowing well that those who know don't talk and those who talk don't know.
But she couldn't help but sing!
She couldn't help but sing!
Oh, she couldn't help but sing!
She couldn't help but sing!
She tried and couldn't help but sing!
She couldn't help but sing!
Oh, she couldn't help but sing!
She couldn't help but sing!

The Tortoise in the wheelchair wrapped his forehead in a bandage, with a cast they made from plaster for his phony broken leg so he'd get pushed around the sidewalk by the Zookeeper's assistant, with the Hummingbird observing from behind a yellow Flower, and he flapped his tiny wings, they moved so fast you couldn't see them, with resentment for the Tortoise, which was clear by his expression.
But the Tortoise turned and smiled with a Peacefulness which proved that there's a movement in our stillness and however much we move we're bound to stand completely still.
We stand completely still.
We all stand completely still.
We stand completely still.
Let's all stand completely still!
Let's stand completely still!
Let's all stand completely still!
Let's stand completely still!

Come, Tortoise, standing still -- go, Hummingbird, my will
Come, Tortoise, stumbling blind -- go, Hummingbird, my eyes
Come Tortoise, empty hands -- go, Hummingbird, my plan
Come Tortoise undefined -- go, Hummingbird, my mind
Come, Tortoise, letting go -- go, Hummingbird, 'I know'
Come, Tortoise, come and die -- go, Hummingbird, my I
Oh... goodbye, I! Goodbye, I! Bye, bye, bye

mewithoutYou - Goodbye, I!


The Horse's hay beneath His head our Lord was born to a manger bed, that all whose wells run dry could drink of His supply.
To keep Him warm the Sheep drew near, so grateful for His coming here: You come with news of grace, come to take my place!

The Donkey whispered in His ear: Child, in thirty-some-odd years, You'll ride someone who looks like me (untriumphantly).

While the Cardinals warbled a joyful song: He'll make right what man made wrong, bringing low the hills, that the valleys might be filled!

Then Child, asked the birds, well, aren't they lovely words we sing?
The tiny Baby lay there without saying anything.

At a distance stood a mangy Goat with a crooked teeth and a matted coat, weary eyes and worn, chipped & twisted horns.
Thinking: Maybe I'll make friends some day with the Cows in the pens and the Rambouillet, but for now I'll keep away - I got nothin' smart to say.

But there's a sign on the barn in the Cabbagetown: WHEN THE RAIN PICKS UP AND THE SUN GOES DOWN, SINNERS, COME INSIDE!
WITH NO MONEY, COME AND BUY.
NO CLEVER TALK NOR GIFT TO BRING REQUIRES OUR LOWLY, LOVELY KING.
COME YOU EMPTYHANDED, YOU DON'T NEED ANYTHING.

And the night was cool and clear as glass with the sneaking Snake in the garden grass, as Deep cried out to Deep, the Disciples fast asleep.
And the snake perked up when he heard You ask: if You're willing that this cup might pass we could find our way back home, maybe start a family all our own...but does not the Father guide the Son?
Not my will but Yours be done!
What else here to do?
What else me but You?

And the snake who'd held the world, a stick, a carrot and a string, was crushed beneath the Foot of Your not wanting anything.

mewithoutYou - A Stick, A Carrot, A String


Let us die, let us die!
And, dying, we reply and lower our baskets down into the open bed of the fruit truck passing by.
And we can smile at each other again, me and my Cantaloupe Friend, cast our cares as a couple of Pears put a Blueberry garland on an Apple's head.
The Apple threw our half-baked fears like a wooden shoe in the windmill gear.
The turning stopped and we clearly saw: the flaw is in that which finds the flaw!
The Strawberry said to the Tangerine: My face is red but our hats are green.
Be it orchard or a curling vine, the Sun of yours is the Sun that's mine.

Ya subhannallah Glory be to Allah
Hayyul Qayyum The Ever Living The Provider of All
Subhannallahi Amma Yassifun Glory be to Allah
Sallalah wallah Muhammad (Sal.) May Allah send blessings and peace upon the Prophet
Ya Rabbi sali alaihi wa salim May Allah send blessings and peace upon the Prophet

Lettuce grows, lettuce grows in neatly sectioned beds and rows, but one day asked the Gardener to be moved to where the Eggplant goes.
The reason being, I must confess, I adore her shining, purple dress!
As the Eggplant listened in, she wasn't offended but she wasn't impressed.
The Potato called from underground: You've got it all turned upside-down.
Does the Rain that's sent each spring anew to fall on her not fall on you?
You project on her your inward scenes, she's a blank, external movie screen.
But the One who looks out from your eyes looks through hers and looks through mine.

We all well know, we're gonna reap what we sow.
We all well know, we're gonna reap what we sow.
So may we old-fashionably suggest the Unmarried not undress?
We well know we're gonna reap what we sow.
We all well know, we're gonna reap what we sow.
We all well know what kind of crops are gonna grow.
From each time you disrespect your parents, you better hope we don't hear it!
We who know: you're gonna reap what you sow.

We all well know, we're gonna reap what we sow.
But Grace, we all know, can take the place of all we owe.
So why not let's Forgive everyone everywhere everything all the time...
Everyone everywhere everything all the time...
Everyone everywhere everything all the time...

All the time everyone everywhere everything

mewithoutYou- Bullet To Binary Part 2


On a cold December, just before dawn, as the sun said Hello!
To the sky, the Mantis prayed while the Lamellicorn tunneled and rolled in a threadbare tie.
When the Holland Lops in the Karakung Glades indignantly thump their feet and hopped away when they cut their noses on the sharp-tipped blades (which the grass doesn't mind in the least).
And there's a heat-pat waiting in the chicken-wire hutch where the does from the Netherlands stay, but that dry alfalfa don't taste like much and we're tired of the Timothy hay.
(hay)

I touched her back, she was lying facedown, the dew turned to frost in her eyes.
Me and Sister Margaret on the Pentagon lawn with our wrists in a plastic tie.
While the rats by the tracks on these winter days seeking shelter from the cold, make a nest from the tracts of our various ways that they can save their immortal souls.

No Timothy hay.
Oh no..., Timothy hay
Oh no..., Timothy hay
Oh no..., Timothy hay
Oh no..., Timothy hay
Oh no..., Timothy hay
Please no more Timothy hay.
No more Timothy hay.
Oh no, no more Timothy hay.
No, no more Timothy hay.
Oh no, no more Timothy hay.
No more Timothy hay.

On a cold December, just after dusk, as the sun bid its cordial goodbyes, we'll be split to pieces like an apple seed husk to reveal the tree that's been hidden inside.
Which sapling called in a tattered sarong as the seeds from the Shepherd's Purse fell, broke the news to Mom, we found a better Mom we call 'God,' which she took quite well, singing:

What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God, what a beautiful God there must be!
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God, what a beautiful God there must be!
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God, what a beautiful God there must be!
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God, what a beautiful God You must be!

mewithoutYou - Timothy Hay


The Camel in the desert took a ship across the lake while the Fish in search of water found a Fig with a bellyache, who overheard the waves as they headed for the shore: We're not so sure of separations anymore.

At the Caterpillar picnic, Brother Butterfly stole a rhubarb stem, licked and dipped it in the sugar bowl.
Caught out for Massachusetts in a double-stack train through the Adirondacks spinning like a weathervane.
Gathering & cutting & splitting & stacking the wood, our fuel is neatly piled and we all feel good.

We pretend to care and like we understand, our eyes go soft but know it now: What we're thinking about's your mammary glands and how to sail your birth canal.
We found the pot that fit the lid no less now then when we were smarter did.
Our thoughts are like a tea bag on the saucer, all the flavor gone.

That Dog below our waist's aroused, as arms embraced the pretty Gals.
It came much more as a surprise, it happening while I hugged the guys.
We planted for the final frost, we once were found and now we're lost.
We got a heck of a lot to learn about remaining Taciturn.

mewithoutYou - Fig with a bellyache


Cattail Down, the morning rail yard whistle blows.
Cattail Down, our boxcar bound for no-one-knows.
After every hidden seed out from its covering has been free and every book has been discarded from the bookshelf.
Cattail Down, in the forgetting of myself.
Cattail Down, replace the feathers in our vest.
Cattail Down, surround the ivy that's gone to poison in my chest.
The Parachute broke loose!, cried the Goose with misplaced (but understandable) concern for his little Brother's mental health, his happy little Brother in the forgetting of himself.

Cattail Down, around the bulrush the pollen shed.
Cattail Down, to dress my wounds, it left a Bee sting in their stead.

Have been anger thoughts from out my head

Headed east out of St. Paul we stopped for water, rested in the cemetery, watched the Mississippi.
Running out of food stamps, found a bag along the footpath off highway 61, filled with what looked like marijuana.
(don't worry, Mom, we left it there...)
Hopped a grainer out of Pig's Eye toward Milwaukee, the Deer between the tower and the tracks saw right through us, said:
You don't know where you came from, you don't know where you're going.
You think you're you, but you don't know who you are, you're not you...
you're Everyone Else.

You're Everyone Else...

mewithoutYou - Cattail Down


As the Moon rose and the hour grew late, the day help on a Coconut estate raked up the dry leaves that fell dead from the Trees, which they burned in a pile by the lake.
The Beetle King summoned his men, and from the top of the Rhododendron stem: Calling all volunteers who can carry back here, the Great Mystery's been lit once again.
One Beetle emerged from the crowd in a fashionable abdomen shroud, said: I'm a Professor, you see, that's no mystery to me...
I'll be back soon, successful and proud.
But when the Beetle Professor returned he crawled on all six, as his wings had been burned, and described to the finest detail all he'd learned.
There was neither a light nor a heat in his words.
The deeply dissatisfied King climbed the same stem to announce the same thing, but in his second appeal sought to sweeten the deal with a silver Padparadscha ring.
The Lieutenant stepped out from the line as he lassoed his thorax with twine, thinking: I'm stronger and braver and I'll earn the King's favor.
One day all he has will be mine!
But for all the Lieutenant's conceit he, too, returned singed and admitting defeat: I had no choice, please believe, but retreat...
It was bright as the sun, but with ten times the heat!
And it cracked like the thunder and bloodshot my eyes, though smothered with sticks it advanced undeterred.
Carelessly cast an ash cloud to the sky, my Lord, like a flock of dark, vanishing birds.

The Beetle King slammed down his fist: Your flowery description's no better than his!
We sent for the Great Light and you bring us this?
We didn't ask what it seems like, we asked what it IS!
His Majesty's hour at last has drawn nigh!
The elegant Queen took her leave from his side, without understanding but without asking why, gathered their Kids to come bid their goodbyes.
And the father explained: You've been somewhat deceived...
We've all called me your dad, but your True Dad's not me.
I lay next to your mom and your forms were conceived, your Father is the Life within all that you see.
He fills up the ponds as He empties the clouds, holds without hands and He speaks without sounds, provides us with the Cow's waste and coconuts to eat, giving one that nice salt-taste and the other a sweet.
Sends the black carriage the day Death shows its face, thinning our numbers with Kindness and Grace.
And just as a Flower and its Fragrance are one so must each of you and your Father become.
Now distribute my scepter, my crown and my throne and all we've known as 'wealth' to the poor and alone...
Without further hesitation, without looking back home, the King flew headlong into the blazing unknown!
And as the Smoke King curled higher and higher, the troops, flying loops 'round the telephone wires, they said: Our Beloved's not dead, but His Highness instead has been utterly changed into Fire!!!

Why not be utterly changed into Fire?...

mewithoutYou - The King Beetle on the Coconut Estate


In everywhere we look,
Allah, Allah, Allah!

In everyone we meet,
Allah, Allah, Allah!

In every blade of grass,
Allah, Allah, Allah!

It doesn't matter what you've done...
What effect is without a cause?
So what does it matter what you think you've done?
Now, lay your faithless head down
In necessity's Cotton Hand
There's a Love that never changes
No matter what you've done

Or if your Old Man did you wrong,
Maybe his Old Man did him wrong
So if you'd care to sing Forgiveness songs
Come down and join our band
We'll cut you like a Sword
And sing Forgiveness songs

(Don't worry, it'll heal just fine!)

Everywhere we look,
It's all crazy!
It's all false!
It's all a dream!
It's alright

mewithoutYou - Allah, Allah, Allah

05/07/14

Americans throw away 133 billion pounds of food every year, or 31 percent of the world's total amount of available food. That’s over 4,200 pounds of food a second.

Today the rainforest is eroded at a rate of 11 acres per minute to grow soybeans for cattle feed

70% of the water in The American West goes directly into raising pigs, chickens, and cattle.

Transportation of all forms worldwide account for 13.5% of global warming emissions. Livestock account for 18%

It takes 16lbs of grain to make 1lb of beef.

I've been reading about sustainable ways to grow food along with population growth of the world. It seems that around 2060 if we keep eating and throwing away at the rate we are their won't be enough for everyone.

The more I was reading the more I decided I should become a vegetarian because the energy, resources, and output of the meat industry isn't very efficient nor sustainable. But as I kept learning and I realized that I wouldn't have to become a vegetarian. America throws away 4,200 lbs of food a second.

I told my roommates that I've decided to go dumpster diving and eat off of strangers plates at restaurants and when I said that they said I would be considered a "Freegan"

If America alone gave their thrown away food to other countries we could feed 2,170,000,000 brothers and sisters.

China has 1.35 billion people
India has 1.24 billion people
That's a combined 2.59 billion people
We could send our thrown away food of 2.17 billion and almost feed the two most populated countries in the world. That would leave 418 million people those two countries would have to grow food for on their own. A significantly lower number!

Freeganism is the practice of reclaiming and eating food that has been discarded.

Indigo Girls - Closer To Fine

05/03/14

...it was through Pride that the devil became the devil: Pride leads to every other vice: it is the complete anti-God state of mind
-C. S. Lewis

We should scrap every law our country has and make one law and one only.
Pride is illegal.
punishable by hugs.

Pride leads to anger
anger is a prison.

It breaks my heart to see someone angry and it seems like it's everywhere I look.

The parents of the kids I teach
The homeless at the food pantry
my brothers and sisters driving on the road with me

Everyone seems so angry.

I'm not saying it isn't without reason
But we are all dust.
This life is a blink.

So much of life we cannot control

Pride is the desire for control
The failure to control leads to anger

If God is love then the anit-God state of mind would be pride

If love is selfless
then pride would be selfish

As followers of Jesus our primary goal and mission should be to give others rest and peace. We should be fighting pride and anger.

What would church look like if our main priority was to help everyone be more patient, peaceful, humble, and calm?

Peace seems to be one of the hardest things to grasp in this life. I've heard it said to live life with open hands so that I may receive and give willingly.

But open hands seems to be an almost impossible way to live.

Aren't their things worth holding on to?

Aren't their things worth fighting for?

But when does that holding, that fighting turn rotten and into pride or anger?

There are so many wills in this world

All of them desiring different things

How do we find peace?

What goes...let go

What if I want what goes to stay? How do I let that go? What if I want to let it go but it seems to stick to my heart? Life is rarely black and white. You can spend your whole life working for something just to have it taken away.

Pride
Anger
Fear

I feel like such a broken record talking about these three things but my life up until recently had been so ruled by them I was so utterly blinded by them that to taste freedom for the first time is such a cold glass of water, it's such a breath of fresh air.

But I still don't have all the answers. Yes I have given up angry but I still have pride. I still can't let go. I still want things. I still fear that it won't be alright.

How do I live in a series of leaps of faith without these three constantly popping up in my life?

How do I see beyond my sight?

How do I live beyond my life?

What do we as Christians, as followers of a perfect man, do as we constantly fail and fall? What sort of example does Jesus give me for when I miserably sin and fail? Or I get caught in the snare of one of these three?

It is impossible to live with pride fear and anger. The body may be functioning but the heart has long since passed.

It is impossible to die with humility courage and peace. The body may be rotting but the heart will never perish.

I don't want to just open my hands at the end of every church service one a week for 3 minutes. Teach me how to live with my hands open in the rain, in the pain.

Matt Hires- A --> B