I’ve been sitting at a new (to me) Starbucks for the last two hours.

For the last two hours, a group of Moroccan/Jamaican/Ireallydon’tknow men have come and gone. Perhaps 35 or so over time, there’s at least fifteen at the moment, sprawled over half the seating area,

around small tables or in easy chairs

sitting upright with crossed legs or sunk back in comfort

in chinos and patterned cotton or trimmed suits and belts or flashy jeans and chucks

in their twenties and fit to a T or in their fifties with an accompanying fifty in weight

 quiet in demeanor or barely touching their seats in full excitement,

all flowing over in fast language and slow smiles and sparkling eyes and LAUGHTER

…so much laughter.

There seems to be no set time, they’ve hung out and left and greeted others joining on their way out.

There seems to be no set objective, they haven’t dug out a powerpoint yet or demanded one speaker to present some conversation-monopolizing issue.

There seems to be no set age, there seems to be no set subject of conversation, there seems to be no set individualistic goal.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think they just enjoyed each other.

From across the room, my heart is lightened and soul is lifted and mind amazed.

This community exists on planet earth!

Even stranger: in America. The midwest. Minnesota.

THIS is what LIVING looks like.

THIS is what THRIVING looks like.

Now for the question:

Is this possible to recreate? To ignite hearts to appreciate other?

Dare I say it, (perish the thought), waste time together?

One thing:

…This has got to be the most productive waste of time I have ever seen.

Oh, jealousy, thou doest consume me…

…of Ezekiel’s dry bones.

Today, I was told I am drained.

Dry, brittle, spent. And

I could only nod my head.

Exposure to toxins

in air, soul, spirit

affects one after the fact

not just in the immediacy.

Only three days, only…

a lot can happen in three days.

yet,

may you resurrect the dead

before you replenish the dying

resurrect my family

before you replenish my soul.

…Dr. Seuss may be on to something.

The cure to a life lived dreaming

is a life lived loving.

Infuse me with Your

Love

stronger than my

Imagination

(for You are the real thing

and if You give me dreams

then You must be better

than shadowy retina flickers

and a cloud numbered nine.)

…communication is currently the death of me

(will be the life of me)

…finances is currently the death of me

(will be the life of me)

faith is the proof of things unseen.

proof. Proof. proof. (must remember this)

Voici l’eau Claire!

True, it has become

As scales continue to fall from my eyes

Scored from my skin by the sharpest of claws,

The world gets brighter and I see clearer

The clearest? My home here, of long time mourned,

Was and is the best of nests a sparrow such as I

Could have had. Voici l’eau Claire!

You are beautiful. Your people are living

Water. Voici l’eau Claire,

Here is clear water.

are so good.

Compartmentalizing 

Boxes stacked on boxes

Reorganizing?

In these crazy fits of… time

Suddenly what was on bottom is on top, what was on top is on bottom

I do not know where on the stack I am. 

In fact, I do not even know which box I am in.

Suddenly were I was is not, what I knew not there I am.

But you 

Are so good.

Compartmentalizing,

I am in a box in a stack in a tower

Ask where?

I dare not. Where should I be?

I do not know. 

But you are so good.

What am I?

in your stack of towers

remember the tongues

of confusion

There is snow covering the roofs eaves windows of Eau Claire

There are cars hissing down the road. Wet tires

Pushing on wet concrete pushing on wet soil

Frozen thawing freezing.

My love there is not a word

Spoken thought or whispered to say

To share to exoriate

The depth of breadth of 

Coiled wrapped rhythmic flowing con

Tinuous

Tenous

Love

A music box waltzes in the other room

Across the floor, across the house, across the street

It is chiming it is singing it is blind it is a girl.

A baby girl, crying. She is not hungry. She is not

Cold. She is not frightened. She is not hurt.

She cries, from the other room. A music box, waltzing.

She cries.

Hold me. My arms, see their reach, see the request

Questioning, answer with touch, answer with voice,

Answer with eyes. Answer.

But she is safe. This infant, this child. She is safe.

She does not will not cannot believe it

But her mind, it is small, it is growing, but her mind

It is small.

It is growing, and as it grows, she will learn listen understand

She is safe.

No, she whispers, when held, when curled, when quiet,

No, I know, I know

I am safe. A hand reaches up in a fist, a hand reaches up to touch

Mine. 

I am safe, she says, she coos

I know I am safe. I cry, to know, are you?

Safe.

A smile creeps over like frost like dust like snow

Yes.

Whiter than the snow

Whiter than the high sky cirrus

Whiter than the low albino crow

Whiter than the white

Reflected refracted here 

On earth

Is the father’s love for us

Whiter than that white

I reflect, I refract, I return 

Towards you 

Whiter than that love,

This love,

Is the fathers love

For you.

There is snow over the eaves the roofs the roads

Eau Claire is quiet, hissing in the slick

Frozen thawing freezing

Laborious in life. Alive. Alive. Alive.

My love, of fact, of statement, of simple

As-it-is, my love,

He loves you 

Greater.

Grow in the knowledge

Of the great mystery.

Accept this instruction instead of silver

And knowledge rather than pure gold,

For wisdom is greater than jewels

And nothing desirable can compare with it.

- proverbs

ps. -happy valentine’s day.

I look down. Again. No.

Red. They are red. They are dripping dripping red.

To wake as from a dream

but no dream such as this ever hoped for,

no sight such as this ever sought for.

hands drenched with blood.

Scream! Scream! Scream.

but the blood is silent

pooling in your palm

congealed in the creases of your skin

this foreign substance, thick as mercury, it

stings just the same, heavy strange poison, it

seeps through your cells, to race through your veins

bludgeoning your own cells, your own blood.

your own veins, your own heart.

your own face, reflected when you peer close,

dances in red ripples across lakes of strange shame.

Like Pontius, I cry,
“Bring me water, more water!”
I plunge deep my hands.
Scorch and scour, tatter and tear
Like Pilate, I weep,
“I have nothing to do with this,”
I did not know. I do not know.

Lift the curtain? Can it be done?
It is deep in the inner
My self its own temple
Deflecting all visitors
And thickening its bricks
No. Don’t lift. Don’t lift the curtain.
Tear it. Can you? Tear it from me.

Stained red my hands.

Stained wet my face.

Stained black my heart.

what is this sorrow

anew, to have found me.

and what is this grief

anew, to expunge me.

the soldier gasps behind his shield

“fall back, fall back, fall back…”

One of the most common fallacies circulating both the Christian and secular world, quoted to give people a removed sense of life, a distanced and spiritual feeling, is the following idiom: 

“Well, you know…”, 

(the speaker looking off to the upper right with faintly upturned eyebrows)

“Everything happens for a reason.”

No. No, no, no, it does not. 

Well, I should clarify. Sometimes, sometimes it does. As Christians, we are all aware of the fact that God works in the here and now, placing blessings in the form of comforts and hardships alike in our lives. We know this; we all can recall shining Sunday School stories emulating this message. And don’t get me wrong, these stories are beautiful. Manna in the dessert, the sun standing still, they are beautiful.

The problem with “Everything happens for a reason” is that it creates a sense of predisposed life by God; a path so manufactured and laid out ahead of time that should we feel compelled to dislike it, it only proves our senility as humans and our emotive weaknesses and our lessened spirituality and our failure to accept God’s power.

…But this is free will.

…But this is an areas acknowledged as under Satan’s realm (temporary yet nonetheless).

…But this is man on the workbench, taking swings and giving punches, sawing away at what love means and what being an individual means and how our soul relates to everything else around us; to everyone else around us. 

…This is planet Earth, people. And while some may be offended at the language I am about to implement (spoiler alert) I nevertheless feel it important to occasionally forgo the vocabulary and just say it how it is:

Shit happens.

Like, actual shit. Not holier-than-thou shit, not beautiful shit, not shit that smells good, and most certainly not shit that people should say is wonderful. Shit is not wonderful. God is. I’m gonna say that again, then we’ll look at why this is a huge distinction and maybe you’ll get why it can’t be repeated enough. 

Shit is not wonderful. God is.

Why is this important? Because this is what we need to dwell on when (another spoiler alert here) shit hits the fan. When someone dies in that car wreak, when your sibling gets into that messy trouble, when your job is slashed, when your provisions threatened, when your relationships crumble, when your heart breaks and breaks and breaks, when shit happens. Call it shit. Please. Just please have the freedom and the reality and the frankness and brokenness and honesty and lack-

Don’t get all spiritual and holier-than-thou (which we all know is just a psychological mechanism to distance us from the situation.) Yep. Think about it. Saying “Everything happens for a reason?” Just another way of saying, “This situation is not bad.“ This is not an act of faith. This is an act of cowardice and mistrust of God; of self-preservation and denial. If you didn’t immediately acknowledge the situation for what it is, you are not living honestly, and you are setting yourself up for all sorts of mind games (since Satan thrives with layers of misconceived reality), the most pivotal mind game being a prevailing sense of guilt as your subconscious is still wounded and emotionally grieving and knowing the situation is shit (no spoiler that time, get used to it) no matter how much your conscious tries to stop it.

Let’s look at (drum-roll please) David. Here was a man who had a thorough mixture of experiences: experiences that were good and bad, experiences that God placed there or that just happened. …Because yeah, that happens on planet Earth. To deny that is to deny the fact that Earth is currently messed up; that people are currently messed up. Things happen. Shit happens. And David knew this; boy, did he ever. He called a spade a spade, he grieved and wept and let his God know in fairly detailed and emotionally charged speech what the situation was, how it was bad, and how it was affecting his heart. And you know what? This brought a closeness between God and David, the rare kind that involves complete honesty and emotional nakedness. A nakedness completely countercultural; a nakedness seen as weak and undesirable (or in Christian lingo, immature and un-Christian-like), a nakedness opposite to our instinct to defensively survive, a nakedness opposite to our natural pride and sense of self, a nakedness of complete and utter honesty. …Because, when you think about it, it’s not like God doesn’t already know what’s there; what’s tearing you to pieces. Presenting a lovely serenade to him of the wonders and goodness of a shitty situation, all the while with a torn and hurting subconscious and heart, does not impress him with your maturity. It breaks his heart to see his children manufacture a sense of order by themselves, putting a huge impossible pressure on themselves while simultaneously distancing themselves from God and distancing themselves from everything around them.

Another saying. This time one actually from the Bible:

Everything works together for the good of those who love God.

It does not say everything is good.

It does not say everything is part of a pre-packaged plan, travel-agent style, complete with specific detours and waylays to further the tourist’s balanced and cultured journey.

It says everything (immediately good and immediately bad) is fitted together by God after the fact to create the sum total of good.

And another (since it’ll be brought up in context of the aforementioned pre-packaged plan):

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord , plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future… (you know the rest).

These “plans” are simply His plans for the outcome, not necessarily the onset situations or as such.

So yes, the situation can be bad.,

It’s just that the outcome won’t be bad. 

Cry, grieve, lay your heart bare before God.

Live in the moment and experience life as it is.

Stop idealizing our lives as a way of distancing from reality.

It’s not being a good Christian, it’s distancing ourselves from God.

Live in the moment, and you’ll see that true faith only occurs when the

Truth of the situation is realized. Don’t cheat the test by saying the test isn’t

A test. Call it a test, call out to God, and take it a problem at a time. This is the

true journey; this is the true growth, this is the true miracle of life as lived with Him.

So once again: Shit is not wonderful. God is. And even more wonderful for making good outcomes out of horrible situations. That is what we trust in. That is how we praise God in the midst of a crisis. That is the crux of our faith: as he takes our crumpled selves into the light and builds a whole spirit from our broken and confused selves, so he takes this world’s crumpled situations into account and uses them incredibly creatively and divinely to bring good to our lives (in myriads of ways and outcomes that could be broken down at a later date, but for now will suffice with summarization: good). This is what a Christian needs to be aware of at the crux of a crisis.

We must remember, our Father God is first and foremost the Creator. He creates; that’s just what he does, he is a creator just as he is love just as he is goodness just as he is holy. And he has not taken a hiatus from creating; he has not stopped. He lives eternal, but as he has told us, he lives in the present, with us, in the moment, with experiences, situations, tragedies, destructions, horrors occurring on a real-time basis. And what a delicious challenge this is to his creative spirit. The pain is crushing to his heart: as his son has walked as a man, he knows the pain of the present, as the original creator, he knows the pain of the loss of perfection, as a father, he knows the pain of longing for the good of his children, as a healer, he knows the pain of a doctor watching a suffering patient. But as a creator, he looks at the drawing board, cracks his knuckles, stretches his neck, and gets to work. Watch him work miracles. I dare you. Give him the situations (in all the gory honesty) and watch him work miracles. It just might take your breath away.

He weeps with us.

He is enraged with us.

He is dissatisfied with us.

…But if we are honest, call spades spades, 

live in the moment in order to respond to his 

direction and wisdom in the moment, 

He will work it out to good.

And while not everything happens for a reason,

And while things that are bad are sometimes just bad,

He creates good futures,

As with us, 

(Dangerous. Exhilarating.) 

He walks the adventure.

Ps. 

In my mind, the title should now make sense. 

If not, for heaven’s sakes, let me know. 

Humor is only humor if interpreted as such. 

That is all.

What does it mean to look like you?

I plead; I pray, I bleed, I say,

Let me be. Let me live

Let me breathe as you.

Yet I scream to your ear

The cries of abandon, when

Winds rise and rains scour and

Drives down my walls. I

Weep when my hands bleed,

Sob when my eyes droop,

Mourn when this life makes its marks

On me.

Yet I indeed asked it; I 

Prayed for your namesake; you

Gave me the life and I only complain.

I question your love force; your vision, your 

Soul, compassion and wisdom, providence and care.

Your power, I see, Lord, just not in this path.

Be still, yes, be still.

I sit down and see, your power, it’s here,

It’s living and breathing, it’s just choosing me

To live and to breathe; to exhale you.

So yes there is darkness, I breathe, I accept

Just please, Lord, just now

Let love make a mark; let you make a mark

On every day, everyone,  every soul circling me.