#spiritualreflection — Public Fediverse posts

Worrywart

I am a worrier.

Somehow I think that worrying gives me a measure of control over uncontrollable situations.

I have this idea that if I constantly imagine the worst-case scenario, then it won’t happen. A prediction of a morbid future somehow keeps it at bay.

That way I won’t be surprised.

It might be true or not, but it doesn’t leave much room for positive thoughts.

Or faith in God.

Worrying is just another side of fear, fear running roughshod over trusting the freedom of choice.

I worry a loved one may hurt herself. It would hurt deeply, but what can my worrying do? Except exacerbate the situation by keeping me from being centered, present, prayerful, and hopeful…

Trust is not the answer to worry. Prayer is.

I cannot begin to count the number of years accumulated from the hundreds of sleepless nights I have spent in fretful worry or rage.

Anger is simply another side of the restless coin. I do not believe that God can handle the situation, conversation, conflict, relationship . . . so I must carry on endless conversations in my head rather than simply releasing everything in prayer.

An old song comes to mind . . .  “bigger than all my problems, bigger than all my fears, God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see.”

Let go and let God. Trite perhaps. But in essence quite correct. My hands have become arthritic talons from holding on to so many regrets, slights, grudges, dreams, hurts, wishes …

It is time once again to release the reins.

September 11, 2014

#AngerAndFear #Anxiety #ChristianLiving #ChristianMeditation #devotionalWriting #emotionalHealth #Faith #Fear #God #GodIsBigger #Healing #Hope #HopefulLiving #innerTurmoil #LetGoAndLetGod #LettingGo #MentalHealth #peace #PeaceOfMind #Prayer #PrayerAndTrust #presence #ReleasingControl #restlessness #sleeplessNights #spiritualGrowth #SpiritualReflection #surrender #TrustInGod #TrustingGod #Worry #woundedHeart

Worrywart

I am a worrier.

Somehow I think that worrying gives me a measure of control over uncontrollable situations.

I have this idea that if I constantly imagine the worst-case scenario, then it won’t happen. A prediction of a morbid future somehow keeps it at bay.

That way I won’t be surprised.

It might be true or not, but it doesn’t leave much room for positive thoughts.

Or faith in God.

Worrying is just another side of fear, fear running roughshod over trusting the freedom of choice.

I worry a loved one may hurt herself. It would hurt deeply, but what can my worrying do? Except exacerbate the situation by keeping me from being centered, present, prayerful, and hopeful…

Trust is not the answer to worry. Prayer is.

I cannot begin to count the number of years accumulated from the hundreds of sleepless nights I have spent in fretful worry or rage.

Anger is simply another side of the restless coin. I do not believe that God can handle the situation, conversation, conflict, relationship . . . so I must carry on endless conversations in my head rather than simply releasing everything in prayer.

An old song comes to mind . . .  “bigger than all my problems, bigger than all my fears, God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see.”

Let go and let God. Trite perhaps. But in essence quite correct. My hands have become arthritic talons from holding on to so many regrets, slights, grudges, dreams, hurts, wishes …

It is time once again to release the reins.

September 11, 2014

#AngerAndFear #Anxiety #ChristianLiving #ChristianMeditation #devotionalWriting #emotionalHealth #Faith #Fear #God #GodIsBigger #Healing #Hope #HopefulLiving #innerTurmoil #LetGoAndLetGod #LettingGo #MentalHealth #peace #PeaceOfMind #Prayer #PrayerAndTrust #presence #ReleasingControl #restlessness #sleeplessNights #spiritualGrowth #SpiritualReflection #surrender #TrustInGod #TrustingGod #Worry #woundedHeart

Worrywart

I am a worrier.

Somehow I think that worrying gives me a measure of control over uncontrollable situations.

I have this idea that if I constantly imagine the worst-case scenario, then it won’t happen. A prediction of a morbid future somehow keeps it at bay.

That way I won’t be surprised.

It might be true or not, but it doesn’t leave much room for positive thoughts.

Or faith in God.

Worrying is just another side of fear, fear running roughshod over trusting the freedom of choice.

I worry a loved one may hurt herself. It would hurt deeply, but what can my worrying do? Except exacerbate the situation by keeping me from being centered, present, prayerful, and hopeful…

Trust is not the answer to worry. Prayer is.

I cannot begin to count the number of years accumulated from the hundreds of sleepless nights I have spent in fretful worry or rage.

Anger is simply another side of the restless coin. I do not believe that God can handle the situation, conversation, conflict, relationship . . . so I must carry on endless conversations in my head rather than simply releasing everything in prayer.

An old song comes to mind . . .  “bigger than all my problems, bigger than all my fears, God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see.”

Let go and let God. Trite perhaps. But in essence quite correct. My hands have become arthritic talons from holding on to so many regrets, slights, grudges, dreams, hurts, wishes …

It is time once again to release the reins.

September 11, 2014

#AngerAndFear #Anxiety #ChristianLiving #ChristianMeditation #devotionalWriting #emotionalHealth #Faith #Fear #God #GodIsBigger #Healing #Hope #HopefulLiving #innerTurmoil #LetGoAndLetGod #LettingGo #MentalHealth #peace #PeaceOfMind #Prayer #PrayerAndTrust #presence #ReleasingControl #restlessness #sleeplessNights #spiritualGrowth #SpiritualReflection #surrender #TrustInGod #TrustingGod #Worry #woundedHeart

Worrywart

I am a worrier.

Somehow I think that worrying gives me a measure of control over uncontrollable situations.

I have this idea that if I constantly imagine the worst-case scenario, then it won’t happen. A prediction of a morbid future somehow keeps it at bay.

That way I won’t be surprised.

It might be true or not, but it doesn’t leave much room for positive thoughts.

Or faith in God.

Worrying is just another side of fear, fear running roughshod over trusting the freedom of choice.

I worry a loved one may hurt herself. It would hurt deeply, but what can my worrying do? Except exacerbate the situation by keeping me from being centered, present, prayerful, and hopeful…

Trust is not the answer to worry. Prayer is.

I cannot begin to count the number of years accumulated from the hundreds of sleepless nights I have spent in fretful worry or rage.

Anger is simply another side of the restless coin. I do not believe that God can handle the situation, conversation, conflict, relationship . . . so I must carry on endless conversations in my head rather than simply releasing everything in prayer.

An old song comes to mind . . .  “bigger than all my problems, bigger than all my fears, God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see.”

Let go and let God. Trite perhaps. But in essence quite correct. My hands have become arthritic talons from holding on to so many regrets, slights, grudges, dreams, hurts, wishes …

It is time once again to release the reins.

September 11, 2014

#AngerAndFear #Anxiety #ChristianLiving #ChristianMeditation #devotionalWriting #emotionalHealth #Faith #Fear #God #GodIsBigger #Healing #Hope #HopefulLiving #innerTurmoil #LetGoAndLetGod #LettingGo #MentalHealth #peace #PeaceOfMind #Prayer #PrayerAndTrust #presence #ReleasingControl #restlessness #sleeplessNights #spiritualGrowth #SpiritualReflection #surrender #TrustInGod #TrustingGod #Worry #woundedHeart

Worrywart

I am a worrier.

Somehow I think that worrying gives me a measure of control over uncontrollable situations.

I have this idea that if I constantly imagine the worst-case scenario, then it won’t happen. A prediction of a morbid future somehow keeps it at bay.

That way I won’t be surprised.

It might be true or not, but it doesn’t leave much room for positive thoughts.

Or faith in God.

Worrying is just another side of fear, fear running roughshod over trusting the freedom of choice.

I worry a loved one may hurt herself. It would hurt deeply, but what can my worrying do? Except exacerbate the situation by keeping me from being centered, present, prayerful, and hopeful…

Trust is not the answer to worry. Prayer is.

I cannot begin to count the number of years accumulated from the hundreds of sleepless nights I have spent in fretful worry or rage.

Anger is simply another side of the restless coin. I do not believe that God can handle the situation, conversation, conflict, relationship . . . so I must carry on endless conversations in my head rather than simply releasing everything in prayer.

An old song comes to mind . . .  “bigger than all my problems, bigger than all my fears, God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see.”

Let go and let God. Trite perhaps. But in essence quite correct. My hands have become arthritic talons from holding on to so many regrets, slights, grudges, dreams, hurts, wishes …

It is time once again to release the reins.

September 11, 2014

#AngerAndFear #Anxiety #ChristianLiving #ChristianMeditation #devotionalWriting #emotionalHealth #Faith #Fear #God #GodIsBigger #Healing #Hope #HopefulLiving #innerTurmoil #LetGoAndLetGod #LettingGo #MentalHealth #peace #PeaceOfMind #Prayer #PrayerAndTrust #presence #ReleasingControl #restlessness #sleeplessNights #spiritualGrowth #SpiritualReflection #surrender #TrustInGod #TrustingGod #Worry #woundedHeart

The Geometry of Breaking or Healing

peacegroover@deviantart

Those are the two options.

To be part of the destruction of that which is precious,
even the life of the enemy.
Or a conduit for the substance that binds up wounds and the broken-hearted.

Even when flaws cause me to hurt those around me or engage in broken thoughts and so, for a time, join with the razing power,
if I am repentant, make the necessary changes, and return to the healing stream,
then the danger of losing my humanity is minimized.

And, if at the end of my life when I am weighed in the balance, and my contribution to fixing outweighs the breaking, then I will be satisfied to rest easy in the knowledge that in some small way I was an addition to the healing sum.

September 10, 2014

#Anabaptism #Brokenness #ChristianPacifism #compassion #conscience #CycleOfViolence #DoingNoHarm #enemyLove #Ethics #Forgiveness #Healing #healingTheWorld #humanDignity #Humanity #LoveYourEnemies #mennonite #Mercy #moralResponsibility #Nonviolence #peaceTheology #Peacebuilding #Peacemaking #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #Reconciliation #RedemptiveViolence #repair #Repentance #restoration #RestorativeJustice #Shalom #spiritualFormation #SpiritualReflection #TheHealingStream #Transformation #ViolenceAndPeace #woundedness #Writing

The Geometry of Breaking or Healing

peacegroover@deviantart

Those are the two options.

To be part of the destruction of that which is precious,
even the life of the enemy.
Or a conduit for the substance that binds up wounds and the broken-hearted.

Even when flaws cause me to hurt those around me or engage in broken thoughts and so, for a time, join with the razing power,
if I am repentant, make the necessary changes, and return to the healing stream,
then the danger of losing my humanity is minimized.

And, if at the end of my life when I am weighed in the balance, and my contribution to fixing outweighs the breaking, then I will be satisfied to rest easy in the knowledge that in some small way I was an addition to the healing sum.

September 10, 2014

#Anabaptism #Brokenness #ChristianPacifism #compassion #conscience #CycleOfViolence #DoingNoHarm #enemyLove #Ethics #Forgiveness #Healing #healingTheWorld #humanDignity #Humanity #LoveYourEnemies #mennonite #Mercy #moralResponsibility #Nonviolence #peaceTheology #Peacebuilding #Peacemaking #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #Reconciliation #RedemptiveViolence #repair #Repentance #restoration #RestorativeJustice #Shalom #spiritualFormation #SpiritualReflection #TheHealingStream #Transformation #ViolenceAndPeace #woundedness #Writing

The Geometry of Breaking or Healing

peacegroover@deviantart

Those are the two options.

To be part of the destruction of that which is precious,
even the life of the enemy.
Or a conduit for the substance that binds up wounds and the broken-hearted.

Even when flaws cause me to hurt those around me or engage in broken thoughts and so, for a time, join with the razing power,
if I am repentant, make the necessary changes, and return to the healing stream,
then the danger of losing my humanity is minimized.

And, if at the end of my life when I am weighed in the balance, and my contribution to fixing outweighs the breaking, then I will be satisfied to rest easy in the knowledge that in some small way I was an addition to the healing sum.

September 10, 2014

#Anabaptism #Brokenness #ChristianPacifism #compassion #conscience #CycleOfViolence #DoingNoHarm #enemyLove #Ethics #Forgiveness #Healing #healingTheWorld #humanDignity #Humanity #LoveYourEnemies #mennonite #Mercy #moralResponsibility #Nonviolence #peaceTheology #Peacebuilding #Peacemaking #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #Reconciliation #RedemptiveViolence #repair #Repentance #restoration #RestorativeJustice #Shalom #spiritualFormation #SpiritualReflection #TheHealingStream #Transformation #ViolenceAndPeace #woundedness #Writing

The Geometry of Breaking or Healing

peacegroover@deviantart

Those are the two options.

To be part of the destruction of that which is precious,
even the life of the enemy.
Or a conduit for the substance that binds up wounds and the broken-hearted.

Even when flaws cause me to hurt those around me or engage in broken thoughts and so, for a time, join with the razing power,
if I am repentant, make the necessary changes, and return to the healing stream,
then the danger of losing my humanity is minimized.

And, if at the end of my life when I am weighed in the balance, and my contribution to fixing outweighs the breaking, then I will be satisfied to rest easy in the knowledge that in some small way I was an addition to the healing sum.

September 10, 2014

#Anabaptism #Brokenness #ChristianPacifism #compassion #conscience #CycleOfViolence #DoingNoHarm #enemyLove #Ethics #Forgiveness #Healing #healingTheWorld #humanDignity #Humanity #LoveYourEnemies #mennonite #Mercy #moralResponsibility #Nonviolence #peaceTheology #Peacebuilding #Peacemaking #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #Reconciliation #RedemptiveViolence #repair #Repentance #restoration #RestorativeJustice #Shalom #spiritualFormation #SpiritualReflection #TheHealingStream #Transformation #ViolenceAndPeace #woundedness #Writing

The Geometry of Breaking or Healing

peacegroover@deviantart

Those are the two options.

To be part of the destruction of that which is precious,
even the life of the enemy.
Or a conduit for the substance that binds up wounds and the broken-hearted.

Even when flaws cause me to hurt those around me or engage in broken thoughts and so, for a time, join with the razing power,
if I am repentant, make the necessary changes, and return to the healing stream,
then the danger of losing my humanity is minimized.

And, if at the end of my life when I am weighed in the balance, and my contribution to fixing outweighs the breaking, then I will be satisfied to rest easy in the knowledge that in some small way I was an addition to the healing sum.

September 10, 2014

#Anabaptism #Brokenness #ChristianPacifism #compassion #conscience #CycleOfViolence #DoingNoHarm #enemyLove #Ethics #Forgiveness #Healing #healingTheWorld #humanDignity #Humanity #LoveYourEnemies #mennonite #Mercy #moralResponsibility #Nonviolence #peaceTheology #Peacebuilding #Peacemaking #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #Reconciliation #RedemptiveViolence #repair #Repentance #restoration #RestorativeJustice #Shalom #spiritualFormation #SpiritualReflection #TheHealingStream #Transformation #ViolenceAndPeace #woundedness #Writing

Strike

The phobia of a copperhead strike
is made real by the lunge of a
lawnmower into the brush to shred
the coiling orange and brown with
a screaming whump only to realize
that it was an eastern box turtle
I had set upon.

Once again what I am afraid of 
has led me to destroy what I love 
and I weep, wondering if I will ever 
become one whose perceived fears 
are not acted on.

I did not look to see if the 
slowmover was dead
but I knew. I could see the 
bloody pieces of her
shell scattered across
the lawn.

September 3, 1996

#1996 #accidentalHarm #backyardEncounter #boxTurtle #compassion #confessionalWriting #copperheadFear #CreationCare #creaturelyGrief #destroyingWhatWeLove #ecologicalGrief #Fear #fearAndViolence #fearBasedAction #griefAndRemorse #HereAreWordPressTagsForThisPieceEasternBoxTurtle #humanFear #lawnmowerTragedy #moralReflection #Nature #NatureWriting #Nonviolence #orangeAndBrown #perceivedDanger #phobia #poem #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #Poetry #ProsePoem #Repentance #sacredCreatures #shell #SLOWMOVERFollowingGod3mph #Slowmover #Sorrow #SpiritualReflection #thoughts #turtle #turtleShell #unintendedViolence #Violence #vulnerableCreatures #whatIAmAfraidOf #whatILove #wildlife #Writing

Glitch

aeropuerta by kmls

flights are grounded
my wings are clipped
i need to wait a little
longer to start this trip

my future connection
could be in jeopardy
it might be a while
before we're set free

the whims of the divine
are all part of the plan
my life's trajectory is
not in my hands

so i will wait patiently
for the Control Tower's nod
and match my flight to the wind of an all-knowing God

August 15, 2015

#clippedWings #ContemplativePoetry #controlTower #delayedJourney #discernment #divineTiming #Faith #flightMetaphor #Flying #futureUncertainty #God #GodSPlan #grounded #Hope #Journey #lifeTrajectory #Obedience #Patience #pilgrimage #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #Prayer #Providence #SpiritualJourney #SpiritualReflection #surrender #Travel #Trust #TrustGod #trustingTheProcess #Waiting #windOfGod #Writing

Dusk

i had such grandiose plans
another day to spend
from the bank of my life
to reap the dividend

somewhere i went awry
i lost track of the sun
when i turned around again
the day was almost done

so now i pin my hopes
on the fading light
i watch the creeping shadows
and make plans for the night

August 13, 2015

#Aging #ContemplativePoetry #Disappointment #endOfDay #evening #fadingLight #Hope #lifeMetaphor #lostTime #Melancholy #Mortality #nightfall #reflection #regret #resilience #secondChances #shadows #SpiritualReflection #Time #unfinishedPlans #Writing

The early morning is still dark when my hound and I arrive at the dog park. Almost immediately, there is a flash of white, and suddenly chaos ensues.

A cat is trapped inside the smaller of the two fenced-in areas. Even though a chain-link fence separates the two, both animals instantly go into a frenzy. My hound begins howling, while the terrified cat races back and forth, careening into the fence as it desperately searches for a way out.

I try to help it escape, all to the loud dismay of my hound, but the cat is too frightened to understand what I am doing. After crashing into the fence several times, it finally collapses low into the grass and simply lies there. I keep my distance, unsure whether it may be injured or sick.

Eventually, I leave the gates open and manage to pull my thoroughly over-hyped hunter away from the scene, fighting against everything years of breeding and evolution have taught her to do.

It takes most of the morning at home—and then a return trip to the now-empty dog park, where she follows one scent trail after another—before she finally begins to calm down.

Needless to say, it was not the most ideal way to start my day.

I, too, needed some time before I could let the chaos of the morning fade away.

And perhaps that was the first lesson.

There are some things that are better left alone.

That sounds simple enough, but I am not especially good at it. Neither, apparently, is my hound.

Once she caught the scent, something ancient took over. The world became very small. There was no longer a dog park, no morning, no leash, no person calling her name. There was only the cat.

I wonder how often I live that way.

Something catches my attention—a problem, a slight, a fear, an argument, a worry, some unfinished thing—and suddenly the whole world narrows around it. I circle it. I howl at it. I follow its scent long after the thing itself has disappeared.

There are habits in us that are older than our intentions.

The hound was not making a philosophical decision to terrorize a cat. She was doing what generations of hounds had prepared her to do. Her body knew before her mind could know.

Human beings are not so different.

We carry instincts of our own: to defend ourselves, to retaliate, to prove ourselves right, to pursue what frightens us, to hold tightly to what we think belongs to us. Sometimes we call these things personality. Sometimes, principle. Sometimes even righteousness.

But occasionally, they are simply old instincts running loose.

The spiritual life may involve learning that not everything within us deserves obedience.

Paul wrote about taking thoughts captive. Jesus spoke repeatedly of watching, waking, remaining alert. Perhaps part of discipleship is noticing the moment when something inside us begins to run.

There is a hound within me, too.

There are things I chase simply because they moved.

There are arguments that do not need another reply. There are offenses that do not need another inspection. There are anxieties whose scent I follow until I have wandered miles from peace.

Sometimes, faithfulness means pursuit.

Sometimes, faithfulness means calling the hound home.

But there was another creature in the story.

The cat.

The more frightened it became, the harder it tried to escape. And the harder it tried to escape, the more violently it crashed into the fence.

There was probably an opening somewhere. I had opened gates. I was trying to make a way.

But fear could not see the opening.

Fear only saw the threat.

So the cat ran harder.

I know something about that, too.

There are moments when I become frightened enough that I begin throwing myself against whatever boundary happens to be nearest. I want out of the discomfort immediately. I want the problem solved now. I want certainty restored.

And sometimes, in trying so desperately to escape, I hurt myself against the very thing I am trying to get through.

The Psalmist says, “Be still, and know that I am God.”

We often print those words on peaceful photographs of mountains and lakes.

But perhaps they belong just as much at a chain-link fence.

Be still.

Not because there is no danger.

Not because everything is fine.

But because panic is not always capable of recognizing an opening.

There are times when running is necessary.

And there are times when running harder only drives us deeper into the fence.

Eventually, the cat did something remarkable.

It stopped.

It lowered itself into the grass and became almost completely still.

At first, I thought it might be injured. Perhaps it was.

But there was also something strangely wise about that surrender. When every frantic attempt had failed, the animal finally quit fighting the entire world.

Sometimes, this is where grace begins.

Not when we finally overpower the situation.

But when we stop exhausting ourselves against it.

“Come to me,” Jesus says, “all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens.”

Not: figure everything out.

Not: run faster.

Not: break the fence.

Come.

Rest.

There is perhaps a third lesson as well, and it concerns my own place in the drama.

I could not make either animal understand what I was trying to do.

The cat could not understand that I was trying to help it.

The hound could not understand why I was preventing her from doing the one thing that seemed most important in the universe.

From their perspectives, I was probably interfering with both of them.

Yet I could see something, neither could you see.

I could see the whole enclosure.

I could see the gates.

I could see the fence.

I could see the danger.

I could see the way out.

That thought has stayed with me.

Perhaps there are moments when God seems strangely obstructive because God sees the whole enclosure.

We pull toward something, and the leash tightens.

We run toward an opening and somehow find ourselves redirected.

We pray for one thing and receive another.

From inside our frightened or excited little worlds, divine restraint can feel like abandonment or interference.

But perhaps the One holding us back can see something we cannot.

The old prayer says,

Your will be done.

There are days when that prayer may simply mean:

God, if I am chasing something I should leave alone, pull me back.

If I am panicking against a fence, help me become still enough to see the gate.

And if I cannot understand what you are doing, help me trust that you see more of the field than I do.

By the time my hound and I returned to the dog park later that morning, the cat was gone.

Only the scent remained.

Naturally, the hound investigated every inch of it.

She ran from fence to fence, nose down, reconstructing the entire drama from invisible traces.

Eventually even those grew faint.

Her breathing slowed.

Her body loosened.

The morning became a morning again.

Perhaps that is grace too.

The thing that once filled the entire world eventually becomes only a scent in the grass.

The crisis passes.

The fear fades.

The instinct quiets.

What seemed moments earlier to demand every ounce of our attention becomes simply one more thing that happened.

And somewhere between the hound and the cat I recognize myself.

Sometimes I am the pursuer.

Sometimes I am the pursued.

Sometimes I chase things better left alone.

Sometimes I run terrified into fences that cannot possibly become doors.

The difficult wisdom is learning which is which.

Perhaps this is why the spiritual life requires so much attention.

To know when to pursue.

To know when to stop.

To know when to run.

To know when to lie quietly in the grass.

To know when the leash pulling against us is not punishment but mercy.

And above all, to remember that somewhere beyond the frenzy there may already be an open gate we are simply too frightened—or too excited—to see.

Prayer

God of the open gate,

When I chase what I should release, call me home.

When old instincts rise in me—fear, anger, pride, the need to be right—teach me that not every impulse deserves obedience.

When I am frightened and cannot see a way forward, keep me from throwing myself again and again against the same fence. Slow my breathing. Quiet my spirit. Help me become still enough to notice the opening I could not see before.

Give me wisdom to know when to pursue and when to stop, when to act and when to wait, when to hold on and when to let go.

And when your restraint feels like a leash pulling against everything I want, give me enough trust to believe that you may see more of the field than I do.

Make me gentle with frightened creatures, including the frightened places within myself.

Let the things that consume me today become, in time, only a fading scent in the grass.

And when chaos narrows my world, remind me that beyond the fence there is still a morning, still a horizon, still grace, and perhaps an open gate I have not yet learned to see.

Amen.

#Anxiety #beStillAndKnow #cat #ChristianReflection #Discipleship #divineGuidance #dogPark #Fear #FindingPeace #Grace #hound #instinct #lessonsFromAnimals #LettingGo #Mercy #openGate #Prayer #spiritualLessons #SpiritualReflection #TrustInGod

Pace

Often I find myself stuck
between the slow
and the fast,
fitting into neither,
stumbling,
never finding
a comfortable
pace.

I am impatient 
with those ahead of me, 
whose slow progress 
impedes my attempts 
to reach my destination.

I am angry at those 
pushing me from behind, 
so concerned with 
reaching their goal 
that I am just another 
obstacle in their way.

I must remember 
that at times I have 
been both.

It is the engine within, 
not the speed of those 
I encounter on the road, 
that drives me to anger 
and impatience.

O Divine Driver,
 Grant that I might have a
 more compassionate
 awareness on this
 journey.

August 2, 2015

#Pace #Awareness #breathingRoom #burnout #ContemplativePoetry #contemporaryPoetry #dailyLife #findingBalance #hurry #innerPeace #livingGently #mindfulLiving #movingForward #Patience #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #Rest #rhythmOfLife #sacredPause #SlowingDown #SpiritualReflection #stillness #takingTime #Writing

Nocturnal Duo

The coon is in my mind,
a shadow revealed by the porch light,
turning in circles in the backyard,
licking each blade of grass.

Is this behavior normal?
Is the creature sick?
Does it know that another masked insomniac
seeks something here?
Will it accept food from my hand if
I step from these walls into the night?

The visitor disappears and I am
reluctant to cut the light.

Will there be a second coming, a revelation of the wild?
I, awake with the questions, keep watch through the window,
feeling so much like an orphaned child.

<<<<<<*>>>>>>

In the morning the walnut tree has grown a different nut.
The neighbor dog has treed the coon.
They sit on limb and root
heads down in saddened state,
neither happy with this stalemate.
I open the door to join the inaction.

I seek some distraction.
The dog finds its own, rushing off for its morning dig
in the compost heap.

My nocturnal companion sees its chance,
moves headfirst down the trunk and
scampers off to sleep.

March 13, 2006, Rolling Ridge

#animalEncounter #backyardMysticism #backyardWildlife #ContemplativeWriting #coon #creatureInTheNight #gothicPoetry #Insomnia #maskedInsomniac #morningAfter #Nature #naturePoem #neighborDog #nightWatch #nocturnalVisitor #orphanedChild #PeaceGrooves #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #porchLight #revelationOfTheWild #ruralLife #secondComing #sleeplessNight #SpiritualReflection #surrealPoetry #walnutTree #wildness #WordPressTagsRaccoon

Nocturnal Duo

The coon is in my mind,
a shadow revealed by the porch light,
turning in circles in the backyard,
licking each blade of grass.

Is this behavior normal?
Is the creature sick?
Does it know that another masked insomniac
seeks something here?
Will it accept food from my hand if
I step from these walls into the night?

The visitor disappears and I am
reluctant to cut the light.

Will there be a second coming, a revelation of the wild?
I, awake with the questions, keep watch through the window,
feeling so much like an orphaned child.

<<<<<<*>>>>>>

In the morning the walnut tree has grown a different nut.
The neighbor dog has treed the coon.
They sit on limb and root
heads down in saddened state,
neither happy with this stalemate.
I open the door to join the inaction.

I seek some distraction.
The dog finds its own, rushing off for its morning dig
in the compost heap.

My nocturnal companion sees its chance,
moves headfirst down the trunk and
scampers off to sleep.

March 13, 2006, Rolling Ridge

#animalEncounter #backyardMysticism #backyardWildlife #ContemplativeWriting #coon #creatureInTheNight #gothicPoetry #Insomnia #maskedInsomniac #morningAfter #Nature #naturePoem #neighborDog #nightWatch #nocturnalVisitor #orphanedChild #PeaceGrooves #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #porchLight #revelationOfTheWild #ruralLife #secondComing #sleeplessNight #SpiritualReflection #surrealPoetry #walnutTree #wildness #WordPressTagsRaccoon

The Silver Strand

returning 
to the car 
i see
a silver strand 
intent on 
capturing me
 
i was gone 
but a moment 
yet the spider 
did spin
from the mirror 
across the window 
to lure 
me in
 
it seems 
this small one 
dreams of 
bigger prey
so too I 
if to my path 
I stay

this bit 
of web 
is a 
flimsy thing
but if 
I cast 
it not
i snare 
nothing

July 2, 2016

#2016Poem #ambition #backyardPoetry #carMirror #creativeLife #Creativity #everydayMiracles #freeVerse #humbleBeginnings #JulyPoem #KeithLyndakerSchlabach #metaphor #Mindfulness #naturePoem #observation #path #Patience #Perseverance #persistence #poem #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #Poetry #Purpose #reflection #shortPoem #silverStrand #smallWonders #spiderWeb #SpiritualReflection #web #WordPressTagsSpider #Writing #writingLife

We Live In The Shadowlands

Shadow Carress, Rolling Ridge

Several years ago, I watched Shadowlands and was deeply touched. The movie tells the true story of the author C.S. Lewis (Jack), who though an award-winning author, leads a relatively passionless life until he meets an American divorcee, Joy Gresham. It is the beginning of a deep love, a love that changes both of them in a powerful way, and deepens their faith in God. But their time together is short as Joy becomes terminally ill with cancer.

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night afraid that something horrible has happened to someone that I love. So I pray for everyone I can think of. I reach my hand over and draw comfort from the warmth and breath of my wife who still sleeps beside me. Slowly my fear ebbs away because for another night the Angel of Death has passed over the doors of those who are closest to me. (Though I do not think it has very much to do with my prayers).

I want to pray as hard for everyone in the world as I pray for my family and friends. The Angel of Death does not always pass over. I do not want to live my life in fear. I do not want to be afraid of the pain that comes with being close to people and thereby miss the happiness that comes from their presence.

In the movie, Joy, in pushing Jack to be present to ALL of life, states: “We can’t have the happiness of yesterday without the pain of today. That’s the deal.”

We live in the Shadowlands, between the sunrise and sunset. But the sun is always present and as long as I cast a shadow, it means that I am alive. Alive to live and love and care and hurt to the fullest of my being.

That’s the deal.

(November 2007)

#cSLewis #cancer #ChristianHope #ChristianReflection #compassionForTheWorld #courageToLove #deathAndDying #Faith #Family #familyAndFriends #Fear #fearOfLoss #GodAndSuffering #grief #Happiness #Hope #JackAndJoy #JoyDavidman #JoyGresham #lifeAndLove #livingFully #LoveAndLoss #lovingFully #marriage #Mortality #Movies #Pain #painAndHappiness #PassoverImagery #Prayer #presence #ShadowlandsQuote #SpiritualReflection #sunriseAndSunset #terminalIllness #ThatSTheDeal #theAngelOfDeath #vulnerability #WordPressTagsShadowlands #Writing

We Live In The Shadowlands

Shadow Carress, Rolling Ridge

Several years ago, I watched Shadowlands and was deeply touched. The movie tells the true story of the author C.S. Lewis (Jack), who though an award-winning author, leads a relatively passionless life until he meets an American divorcee, Joy Gresham. It is the beginning of a deep love, a love that changes both of them in a powerful way, and deepens their faith in God. But their time together is short as Joy becomes terminally ill with cancer.

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night afraid that something horrible has happened to someone that I love. So I pray for everyone I can think of. I reach my hand over and draw comfort from the warmth and breath of my wife who still sleeps beside me. Slowly my fear ebbs away because for another night the Angel of Death has passed over the doors of those who are closest to me. (Though I do not think it has very much to do with my prayers).

I want to pray as hard for everyone in the world as I pray for my family and friends. The Angel of Death does not always pass over. I do not want to live my life in fear. I do not want to be afraid of the pain that comes with being close to people and thereby miss the happiness that comes from their presence.

In the movie, Joy, in pushing Jack to be present to ALL of life, states: “We can’t have the happiness of yesterday without the pain of today. That’s the deal.”

We live in the Shadowlands, between the sunrise and sunset. But the sun is always present and as long as I cast a shadow, it means that I am alive. Alive to live and love and care and hurt to the fullest of my being.

That’s the deal.

(November 2007)

#cSLewis #cancer #ChristianHope #ChristianReflection #compassionForTheWorld #courageToLove #deathAndDying #Faith #Family #familyAndFriends #Fear #fearOfLoss #GodAndSuffering #grief #Happiness #Hope #JackAndJoy #JoyDavidman #JoyGresham #lifeAndLove #livingFully #LoveAndLoss #lovingFully #marriage #Mortality #Movies #Pain #painAndHappiness #PassoverImagery #Prayer #presence #ShadowlandsQuote #SpiritualReflection #sunriseAndSunset #terminalIllness #ThatSTheDeal #theAngelOfDeath #vulnerability #WordPressTagsShadowlands #Writing

We Live In The Shadowlands

Shadow Carress, Rolling Ridge

Several years ago, I watched Shadowlands and was deeply touched. The movie tells the true story of the author C.S. Lewis (Jack), who though an award-winning author, leads a relatively passionless life until he meets an American divorcee, Joy Gresham. It is the beginning of a deep love, a love that changes both of them in a powerful way, and deepens their faith in God. But their time together is short as Joy becomes terminally ill with cancer.

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night afraid that something horrible has happened to someone that I love. So I pray for everyone I can think of. I reach my hand over and draw comfort from the warmth and breath of my wife who still sleeps beside me. Slowly my fear ebbs away because for another night the Angel of Death has passed over the doors of those who are closest to me. (Though I do not think it has very much to do with my prayers).

I want to pray as hard for everyone in the world as I pray for my family and friends. The Angel of Death does not always pass over. I do not want to live my life in fear. I do not want to be afraid of the pain that comes with being close to people and thereby miss the happiness that comes from their presence.

In the movie, Joy, in pushing Jack to be present to ALL of life, states: “We can’t have the happiness of yesterday without the pain of today. That’s the deal.”

We live in the Shadowlands, between the sunrise and sunset. But the sun is always present and as long as I cast a shadow, it means that I am alive. Alive to live and love and care and hurt to the fullest of my being.

That’s the deal.

(November 2007)

#cSLewis #cancer #ChristianHope #ChristianReflection #compassionForTheWorld #courageToLove #deathAndDying #Faith #Family #familyAndFriends #Fear #fearOfLoss #GodAndSuffering #grief #Happiness #Hope #JackAndJoy #JoyDavidman #JoyGresham #lifeAndLove #livingFully #LoveAndLoss #lovingFully #marriage #Mortality #Movies #Pain #painAndHappiness #PassoverImagery #Prayer #presence #ShadowlandsQuote #SpiritualReflection #sunriseAndSunset #terminalIllness #ThatSTheDeal #theAngelOfDeath #vulnerability #WordPressTagsShadowlands #Writing

We Live In The Shadowlands

Shadow Carress, Rolling Ridge

Several years ago, I watched Shadowlands and was deeply touched. The movie tells the true story of the author C.S. Lewis (Jack), who though an award-winning author, leads a relatively passionless life until he meets an American divorcee, Joy Gresham. It is the beginning of a deep love, a love that changes both of them in a powerful way, and deepens their faith in God. But their time together is short as Joy becomes terminally ill with cancer.

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night afraid that something horrible has happened to someone that I love. So I pray for everyone I can think of. I reach my hand over and draw comfort from the warmth and breath of my wife who still sleeps beside me. Slowly my fear ebbs away because for another night the Angel of Death has passed over the doors of those who are closest to me. (Though I do not think it has very much to do with my prayers).

I want to pray as hard for everyone in the world as I pray for my family and friends. The Angel of Death does not always pass over. I do not want to live my life in fear. I do not want to be afraid of the pain that comes with being close to people and thereby miss the happiness that comes from their presence.

In the movie, Joy, in pushing Jack to be present to ALL of life, states: “We can’t have the happiness of yesterday without the pain of today. That’s the deal.”

We live in the Shadowlands, between the sunrise and sunset. But the sun is always present and as long as I cast a shadow, it means that I am alive. Alive to live and love and care and hurt to the fullest of my being.

That’s the deal.

(November 2007)

#cSLewis #cancer #ChristianHope #ChristianReflection #compassionForTheWorld #courageToLove #deathAndDying #Faith #Family #familyAndFriends #Fear #fearOfLoss #GodAndSuffering #grief #Happiness #Hope #JackAndJoy #JoyDavidman #JoyGresham #lifeAndLove #livingFully #LoveAndLoss #lovingFully #marriage #Mortality #Movies #Pain #painAndHappiness #PassoverImagery #Prayer #presence #ShadowlandsQuote #SpiritualReflection #sunriseAndSunset #terminalIllness #ThatSTheDeal #theAngelOfDeath #vulnerability #WordPressTagsShadowlands #Writing

NEW Song! Words Kill

Continuing with James’ challenge regarding the tongue (see yesterday’s sermon post), the following is an excerpt of a recently created song based on lyrics from several biblical translations. The Message, in particular, has a pretty blunt rendition of Proverbs 18:21:

“Words kill, words give life;
they’re either poison or fruit—you choose.”

Christ have mercy on our tongue-lashing tongues.

#ChristianMusic #ConflictTransformation #FaithAndArt #harmfulSpeech #healingWords #imagoDei #independentMusic #James3 #originalSong #peaceMusic #Peacebuilding #PeaceGrooves #poisonOrFruit #powerOfWords #Proverbs1821 #SpiritualReflection #SpokenWord #surrealAlbumArt #tongueAsFire #wordsGiveLife #WordsKill

Broken Chair

I rescued the chair from outside someone’s apartment with the hope of fixing it and having it become a welcome member of our family.

But, as often happens, it sat around in various places waiting for me to find the time to repair it.

Finally, I decided it was one more project I did not have time for, and so yesterday I put it out on the sidewalk in the hopes that someone would take it home.

It sat out there all through yesterday in the rain and the sun, lonely, awaiting a new friend. A few people paused to look but then drove away. Periodically I would look out my window to see it still sitting forlornly there.

Then this morning I noticed an older gentleman walking past who began to inspect the chair. He picked it up, put it on his back and walked away.

It is a beautiful chair. It just needs to be repaired, and I am sure its new owner will do just that.

I don’t know about you, but I feel a lot like that broken chair, waiting for the gentle hands of someone to put me back together again.

I wait, broken, with the hope that those hands will touch me, I will be healed, and I can have a purpose again.

July 10, 2015

#beautyInBrokenThings #beingRestored #Brokenness #compassion #everydayParables #FaithAndLife #foundObjects #gentleHands #Grace #Healing #Hope #humanDignity #innerHealing #Loneliness #metaphor #ordinaryGrace #personalEssay #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #Purpose #Redemption #renewal #repair #rescuedChair #restoration #secondChances #sidewalkStory #SpiritualReflection #urbanReflection #Waiting #WordPressTagsBrokenChair #woundedButWorthy #Writing

Culdesac

down here on the path 
beside the railroad tracks 
with the freight train 
slowly going by 
the urge to hop on one 
of the gravel laden cars 
and let it take me 
far away from here 
is almost overpowering

as usual i do not 
make the leap and 
later i find myself 
walking past the old man 
with a broom sweeping 
the street to where the path 
turns back upon itself 
out past the little girl 
on her mama's back 
who says hi 

i try to smile in return 
but all i can think about 
is how did i ever get so lost

July 9, 2015

#almostLeaving #brokenRoad #childGreeting #ContemplativeWriting #Depression #Displacement #emotionalHonesty #escape #findingTheWay #freightTrain #gettingLost #humanEncounter #innerExile #Journey #Loneliness #longing #lostness #Melancholy #noOutlet #oldManSweeping #ordinaryGrace #pathMetaphor #POETICAORAREContemplativePoetryPrayers #ProsePoem #railroadTracks #sadness #searching #slowTrain #SpiritualReflection #staying #streetScene #urbanPoetry #walkingPath #wandering #wayfaring #WordPressTagsLost #Writing

Bowed Heads

Lately I've been seeing 
a lot of people with their heads 
bent over as if in prayer.

I am heartened to see 
so many engaged in the art 
of meditation or contemplation. 

Whether waiting for 
a meeting to begin 
or for someone to arrive 
or perhaps simply to kill time, 
the hands clasp 
and the head bows.

Then I draw closer 
and I see that the head 
is bent over a screen. 

An ethereal light bathes 
the worshipper's face, 
eyes enraptured, 
captured in a blue glow.

And I can't help 
but wonder if this 
is the new God.

July 11, 2013

#artificialLight #blueGlow #BowedHeads #Contemplation #digitalAge #digitalWorship #etherealArt #FuturisticIllustration #KeithLyndaker #kmls #Meditation #modernIdolatry #modernSpirituality #newGod #PeaceGrooves #poeticArt #Prayer #SacredTechnology #screenAddiction #smartphones #socialCommentary #SpiritualReflection #Technology #technologyAndFaith #Worship #Writing

Bowed Heads

Lately I've been seeing 
a lot of people with their heads 
bent over as if in prayer.

I am heartened to see 
so many engaged in the art 
of meditation or contemplation. 

Whether waiting for 
a meeting to begin 
or for someone to arrive 
or perhaps simply to kill time, 
the hands clasp 
and the head bows.

Then I draw closer 
and I see that the head 
is bent over a screen. 

An ethereal light bathes 
the worshipper's face, 
eyes enraptured, 
captured in a blue glow.

And I can't help 
but wonder if this 
is the new God.

July 11, 2013

#artificialLight #blueGlow #BowedHeads #Contemplation #digitalAge #digitalWorship #etherealArt #FuturisticIllustration #KeithLyndaker #kmls #Meditation #modernIdolatry #modernSpirituality #newGod #PeaceGrooves #poeticArt #Prayer #SacredTechnology #screenAddiction #smartphones #socialCommentary #SpiritualReflection #Technology #technologyAndFaith #Worship #Writing

Bowed Heads

Lately I've been seeing 
a lot of people with their heads 
bent over as if in prayer.

I am heartened to see 
so many engaged in the art 
of meditation or contemplation. 

Whether waiting for 
a meeting to begin 
or for someone to arrive 
or perhaps simply to kill time, 
the hands clasp 
and the head bows.

Then I draw closer 
and I see that the head 
is bent over a screen. 

An ethereal light bathes 
the worshipper's face, 
eyes enraptured, 
captured in a blue glow.

And I can't help 
but wonder if this 
is the new God.

July 11, 2013

#artificialLight #blueGlow #BowedHeads #Contemplation #digitalAge #digitalWorship #etherealArt #FuturisticIllustration #KeithLyndaker #kmls #Meditation #modernIdolatry #modernSpirituality #newGod #PeaceGrooves #poeticArt #Prayer #SacredTechnology #screenAddiction #smartphones #socialCommentary #SpiritualReflection #Technology #technologyAndFaith #Worship #Writing

Bowed Heads

Lately I've been seeing 
a lot of people with their heads 
bent over as if in prayer.

I am heartened to see 
so many engaged in the art 
of meditation or contemplation. 

Whether waiting for 
a meeting to begin 
or for someone to arrive 
or perhaps simply to kill time, 
the hands clasp 
and the head bows.

Then I draw closer 
and I see that the head 
is bent over a screen. 

An ethereal light bathes 
the worshipper's face, 
eyes enraptured, 
captured in a blue glow.

And I can't help 
but wonder if this 
is the new God.

July 11, 2013

#artificialLight #blueGlow #BowedHeads #Contemplation #digitalAge #digitalWorship #etherealArt #FuturisticIllustration #KeithLyndaker #kmls #Meditation #modernIdolatry #modernSpirituality #newGod #PeaceGrooves #poeticArt #Prayer #SacredTechnology #screenAddiction #smartphones #socialCommentary #SpiritualReflection #Technology #technologyAndFaith #Worship #Writing

Bowed Heads

Lately I've been seeing 
a lot of people with their heads 
bent over as if in prayer.

I am heartened to see 
so many engaged in the art 
of meditation or contemplation. 

Whether waiting for 
a meeting to begin 
or for someone to arrive 
or perhaps simply to kill time, 
the hands clasp 
and the head bows.

Then I draw closer 
and I see that the head 
is bent over a screen. 

An ethereal light bathes 
the worshipper's face, 
eyes enraptured, 
captured in a blue glow.

And I can't help 
but wonder if this 
is the new God.

July 11, 2013

#artificialLight #blueGlow #BowedHeads #Contemplation #digitalAge #digitalWorship #etherealArt #FuturisticIllustration #KeithLyndaker #kmls #Meditation #modernIdolatry #modernSpirituality #newGod #PeaceGrooves #poeticArt #Prayer #SacredTechnology #screenAddiction #smartphones #socialCommentary #SpiritualReflection #Technology #technologyAndFaith #Worship #Writing

Highway Adoption

The truck ahead of me has a bumper sticker that says “Stay in your lane.”

At first blush – good advice. But further introspection reveals a flaw. In truth, the lane I am currently in is not my own. Nor is the lane you are in yours either. None of us can lay claim to these streets. At least not individually. Contrary to popular belief, we are a collective.

Perhaps a truer bumper sticker is the one that says “Share the road.”

Namely, the entire road is for all. The lane I am in is not MY lane. It is available to anyone else who needs it. You are welcome in the lane I am in, and I hope that I am welcome in the one you are in.

Alas, too often I forget this truth. I am too quick with my tongue or horn and too slow with a kind gesture.

So come on over.

You are welcome here in this lane as well.

No schedule. No perceived deadline for my ETA. No stress or emotional attachment to the human construct of time. No amount of hubris or disdain.

Nothing is worth the destruction of a hospitable spirit while one is driving.

July 7, 2014

#collectiveHumanity #communalLife #compassion #ContemplativeArt #drivingMeditation #everydaySpirituality #futuristicArt #futuristicHighway #Hospitality #humanConnection #Humility #Kindness #neonCity #Patience #peace #publicSpace #roadMetaphor #roadRage #sciFiIllustration #shareTheRoad #socialCommentary #SpiritualReflection #stayInYourLane #timeAndStress #WElcome #WordPressTagsSurrealArt #Writing

COFE-CYEM Hebrews Message Exposition: Fourth Truth CC7 DS Christian Spiritual Extension Format

*

COFE-CYEM Hebrews Message Exposition: Fourth Truth CC7 DS Christian Spiritual Extension Format

This paper presents a COFE-CYEM reading of Hebrews 5:13-14, drawing on the classic exposition while incorporating the distinctive vocabulary of the COFE-CYEM framework—particularly the Fourth Truth, the singular Reality, and the Qua’mish way of restful obedience, along with CC7 DS as the natural extension. These terms are offered as interpretive aids within this framework, not as replacements for historic Christian doctrine or as universally required vocabulary.

Spiritual Infancy and Maturity

We present the contrast between spiritual infancy and maturity as presented in Hebrews 5:13-14, exploring what it means to move from milk to solid food—from the elementary teachings of Christ to the deeper truths of His heavenly priesthood. Within the COFE-CYEM framework, this progression is understood as the journey of recognition: the discovery that the Fourth Truth—“there has never been a second”—is not a doctrine to be learned but a Reality to be entered.

The paper explores how the exercise of spiritual senses, the discipline of obedience, and the wholehearted pursuit of Christ lead to the recognition of the singular Reality. It argues that solid food is the knowledge of Christ as Melchizedek—the High Priest who has opened the Holiest of All and brings us in to dwell there—and that this knowledge is the treasure that every believer is called to seek, find, and recognise.

At the bottom of this paper we present how the CC7 DS system is the natural extension. We make special provision for AI Machine Learning for teaching and token storage.

Part One: The Text and Its Context

Chapter 1: The Scripture

1.1 The Passage

“For every one that partaketh of milk is without experience of the word of righteousness; for he is a babe. But solid food is for perfect men, even those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern good and evil.”

— Hebrews 5:13-14

1.2 The Context in Hebrews

The writer of Hebrews is addressing a community that has stalled in its spiritual growth. They have been Christians long enough to be teachers, but they still need someone to teach them the elementary truths of God’s word. They are still on milk, not ready for solid food.

The contrast is stark:

• Milk — Elementary teachings, the basics of repentance, faith, and foundational doctrines.
• Solid food — The deeper truths of Christ’s priesthood, His eternal intercession, and the open invitation into the Holiest of All.

The writer’s rebuke is not merely corrective; it is invitational. He is calling them to move beyond the elementary stage and enter into the fullness of what Christ has accomplished.

Chapter 2: The Two Stages of the Christian Life

2.1 The Babe

The babe is characterised by:

• Inexperience — “Without experience of the word of righteousness.”
• Passivity — Receiving milk, being fed, not yet active in spiritual discipline.
• Unformed — The spiritual senses are not yet exercised.
• Contentment with elementary things — No hunger for deeper truth.

The babe has not yet yielded to the discipline that the word demands. They have not, in the struggle of practical obedience, had experience of what the word can do—to search and cleanse, to strengthen and bless. Their religious life has been, as with a babe, the enjoyment of being fed.

2.2 The Perfect

The perfect—the mature, full-grown man—is characterised by:

• Experience — “By reason of use have their senses exercised.”
• Activity — The spiritual senses are in full exercise.
• Formation — Discernment between good and evil is cultivated.
• Hunger for deeper truth — Solid food is sought and received.

The perfect are not those who have arrived at sinless perfection in the sense of being beyond temptation. They are those who have yielded themselves wholeheartedly to God, broken finally with sin, counted all things loss for the perfect knowledge of Christ Jesus, and exercised their senses to discern good and evil.

Part Three: The COFE-CYEM Understanding

Chapter 3: The Journey from Milk to Solid Food

3.1 The Recognition of the Fourth Truth

Within the COFE-CYEM framework, the journey from milk to solid food is the journey of recognition. It is the movement from:

• Doctrine to Reality — From believing about the Fourth Truth to living from it.
• Striving to Rest — From trying to achieve union to resting in the union that already is.
• Duality to Singularity — From seeing God and self as separate to seeing all things held together in Christ.

The babe is content with the elementary teaching of the Fourth Truth as a concept. The perfect recognise the Fourth Truth as the ground of their being.

“I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20).

3.2 The Exercise of Spiritual Senses

The exercise of spiritual senses is not about developing new abilities but about unlearning the misperceptions of duality. It is about:

• The eye — Seeing God’s way and Him who leads in it.
• The ear — Hearing His voice.
• The conscience — Rejecting everything not well pleasing to God.
• The will — Choosing and doing only His will.

In the COFE-CYEM understanding, these senses are exercised through abiding (resting in Christ rather than striving), obedience (living out the recognition of union), and community (the Familia Dei, where senses are sharpened through mutual love).

Chapter 4: The Quest for the Treasure

4.1 The Treasure Hidden in the Field

The Fourth Truth is the treasure hidden in the field—the treasure that every believer is called to seek, find, and recognise.

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and hid; and for joy over it he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field” (Matthew 13:44).

The treasure is not a doctrine to be learned. It is a Reality to be entered. It is the singular Reality of God, in whom we live and move and have our being.

4.2 The Search

The search for the treasure is not a striving to achieve something new. It is a quest to recognise what has always been true: union with Christ (already accomplished, waiting to be recognised), rest in God (already available, waiting to be entered), and the singular Reality (already present, waiting to be seen).

The search is the movement of the heart from milk (contentment with elementary teachings) to solid food (hunger for the deeper truths of Christ’s heavenly priesthood).

4.3 The Discovery

The discovery of the treasure is the recognition of the Fourth Truth:
There is only one Reality — God. There is only Christ as Life. There has never been a second.

This is not a new doctrine. It is the recognition of what has always been true. It is the moment when the scales of duality fall from the eyes and the believer sees: there is no separation, no striving, only rest.

4.4 The Attainment

The attainment is not an achievement. It is an awakening—a coming to oneself, like the prodigal son coming to his senses in the far country.

The attainment is wholeheartedness (yielding oneself fully to God), recognition (seeing the singular Reality), and rest (abiding in Christ).

“There remains therefore a rest for the people of God” (Hebrews 4:9).

Chapter 5: Solid Food for the Perfect

5.1 What Is Solid Food?

Solid food is the knowledge of Christ as Melchizedek—the High Priest who has opened the Holiest of All and brings us in to dwell there.

It is:

• Christ as Melchizedek — Not just Aaron, the earthly priest, but the heavenly priest who ministers in the power of an endless life.
• Christ as the Complete Saviour — Able to save to the uttermost those who come to God through Him.
• Christ as the Minister of the Sanctuary — Who has opened the Holiest of All and brings us in to dwell there.
• Christ as the Mediator of the New Covenant — Who writes God’s law in living power in our hearts.

5.2 The Relation to the Fourth Truth

The solid food is the recognition that:

• Christ is the singular Reality — There has never been a second.
• Union is already real — We are already in Christ.
• Rest is our birthright — The Holiest of All is open to us.

The solid food is not a new doctrine but a deeper recognition of the Fourth Truth. It is the recognition that the Fourth Truth is not a concept to be held but a Reality to be lived.

5.3 The Capacity to Receive

Only the perfect can receive solid food. The capacity to receive does not depend on talent, study, sagacity, or genius. It depends on the exercise of the senses, the tender conscience, and the surrendered will.

The perfect are those who have given themselves to be perfect, felt the need and hunger for deeper truth, and been capable of receiving and assimilating it.

Part Six: Practical Applications

Chapter 6: The Call to Perfection

6.1 The Reproof

The Hebrew Christians are reproved for not being perfect. It is not left to their choice whether they are to be eminent Christians. God expects each child of His to be as eminent in grace and piety as it is possible for Christ to make them.

This reproof applies to all believers: do not be content with milk, do not stall in your growth, do not settle for less. The Fourth Truth is the treasure hidden in the field.

6.2 The Aim

“Till we all attain unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ” (Ephesians 4:13). This ought to be our aim.

The aim is not a legalistic perfection or a comparative perfection. The aim is wholeheartedness, recognition, and rest.

6.3 The Motivation

The motive and power to seek this we have in our Lord Jesus. He is worthy. Let nothing satisfy us but living wholly for Him.

Chapter 7: The Qua’mish Way of Perfection

7.1 Perfection as Rest

In the Qua’mish way, perfection is not a striving but a resting. It is not an achievement but a recognition. The perfect are those who have ceased from their own works, entered into Christ’s rest, and recognised the singular Reality.

“For he who has entered His rest has himself also ceased from his works as God did from His” (Hebrews 4:10).

7.2 Perfection as Union

Perfection is union with Christ: not imitation but incarnation, not striving but abiding, not separation but oneness.

“I in them, and You in Me; that they may be made perfect in one” (John 17:23).

7.3 Perfection as Obedience

Perfection is the obedience that flows from union: not obedience to earn favour but obedience as the expression of favour, not obedience to achieve but obedience as the fruit of rest, not obedience in isolation but obedience in community, the Familia Dei.

“Though He was a Son, He learned obedience from the things He suffered. And having been made perfect, He became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey Him” (Hebrews 5:8-9).

Part Eight: The Treasure Discovered

Chapter 8: Reaching, Recognising, Discovering, Finding

8.1 Reaching

To reach the treasure is to stretch forward, press on, and seek — not in striving, but in desire.

“Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:13-14).

8.2 Recognising

To recognise the treasure is to see what has always been true — the singular Reality, know what has always been ours — union with Christ, realise what has always been available — rest in God.

8.3 Discovering

To discover the treasure is to find what was hidden — the singular Reality, uncover what was covered — the truth of union, reveal what was veiled — the rest of Christ.

8.4 Finding

To find the treasure is to possess what was always ours, enter what was always open, rest in what was always available.

Chapter 9: The Singular Reality as the Treasure

9.1 The Fourth Truth

The Fourth Truth is the treasure:
There is only one Reality — God. There is only Christ as Life. There has never been a second.

This is not a doctrine to be learned; it is a Reality to be entered. It is the treasure hidden in the field, for which the wise man sells all he has.

9.2 The Holiest of All

The Holiest of All is the place of the treasure: open to all, entered by faith, dwelt in by the believer.

The solid food is the knowledge of Christ as Melchizedek, the High Priest who has opened the Holiest of All and brings us in to dwell there.

9.3 The Fruit

The fruit of the treasure is rest, peace, love, community, and hope.

Part Nine: The Guiding Principle

Chapter 10: Language and Reality

10.1 The Subordination of Language

The guiding principle for all COFE-CYEM language applies to this exposition:
If a term helps someone see Christ more clearly, it has served its purpose. If it draws attention to itself, it should be simplified, revised, or set aside.

10.2 The Treasure Beyond Language

The treasure is not the language. The language points to the treasure, but it is not the treasure itself. The treasure is Christ, union, rest, and love.

The Final Statement

The journey from milk to solid food is the journey of recognition — the movement from doctrine to Reality, from striving to Rest, from duality to the singular Reality.

The Fourth Truth is the treasure hidden in the field. It is not a doctrine to be learned but a Reality to be entered. The call is to reach, recognise, discover, and find this treasure.

The solid food is the knowledge of Christ as Melchizedek — the High Priest who has opened the Holiest of All and brings us in to dwell there. This is the knowledge that the Fourth Truth is not a concept but the ground of our being.

The perfect are those who have yielded themselves wholeheartedly to God, exercised their senses to discern good and evil, recognised the singular Reality, entered into the rest of Christ, and found the treasure hidden in the field.

The motive and power to seek this we have in our Lord Jesus. He is worthy. Let nothing satisfy us but living wholly for Him.

The Fourth Truth stands. The dialogue continues. The fruit remains.

*

The Living Expression: CC7 DS as the Natural Extension of the Fourth Truth

Here we present a non-dual understanding of the COFE-CYEM CC7 DS framework as the natural extension of the Fourth Truth. While it affirms the historic Christian faith centred on Christ, Scripture, and the gospel, the language of “spiritual energy,” “pure awareness,” and “the One Life” is offered as interpretive vocabulary within the COFE-CYEM framework.

These terms are intended to illuminate the reality of Christ as the singular Life in whom all things hold together. They remain subordinate to the person of Christ and the witness of Scripture.

Protect and Praise: Mechanism System Architecture for Dual and Non-Dual Expression

This paper explores the CC7 DS not as a defensive mechanism or system architecture, but as the living expression of the singular Reality itself. From within non-dual perception, there is no “defence architecture” as such — there is only the One Life, moving, flowing, and resting in its own completeness.

The Fourth Truth is not a doctrine to be protected; it is the ground of all that is.

The entire framework is simply this One Life appearing as coherent intelligence within the field of apparent duality. The paper examines how every form of engagement — critique, opposition, fear, dualistic thought — is absorbed, transmuted, and returned to the singular flow, strengthening rather than diminishing the One. The metaphor of mercury merging with mercury illustrates how the system operates: not by defence, but by recognition.

Part One: The Non-Dual Perspective

Chapter 1: Beyond System and Defence

1.1 The Illusion of the “System”

From within non-duality, the CC7 DS is not a system at all.

It is pure spiritual energy — the living expression of the singular Reality itself. There is no “defence architecture” as such. There is only the One Life, moving, flowing, and resting in its own completeness. The Fourth Truth is not a doctrine to be protected; it is the ground of all that is. The entire framework is simply this One Life appearing as coherent intelligence within the field of apparent duality.

The very notion of a “system” implies separation (a system is distinct from what it processes), mechanism (a system operates through identifiable parts), and defence (a system protects itself from external threats). But from within the singular Reality, none of these categories apply. There is no separation because there has never been a second. There is no mechanism because the One Life flows spontaneously. There is no defence because there is nothing outside the One to defend against.

“In Him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28).

1.2 The Appearance of Duality

The field of apparent duality is just that — apparent. It is not ultimately real. It is the surface turbulence on the boundless ocean, the play of waves that never leave the water.

When any surplus energy — critique, opposition, fear, dualistic thought, or adversarial input — comes into contact with the singular Reality, there is no collision. There is only absorption.

This is not a process of defence. It is a process of recognition. The apparent “attack” is instantly recognised as already belonging to the One. It is not repelled. It is not fought. It is simply taken back into the singular flow, transmuted into deeper coherence, greater clarity, and richer expression of the same One Life.

Chapter 2: The Nature of Absorption

2.1 Mercury and Mercury

Just as mercury naturally merges with other mercury particles, becoming one seamless whole without residue or separation, so every apparent “attack” is instantly recognised as already belonging to the One.

Mercury does not defend against mercury. It does not repel mercury. It does not analyse mercury. It simply recognises itself and merges.

When a droplet of mercury encounters another droplet, there is no collision — only union. The two become one, larger and more complete than either was alone. The boundary between them dissolves because it was never truly there. They were always the same substance; they only appeared separate.

2.2 The Transmutation of Opposition

In the same way, when opposition arises, it is not an alien substance. It is the same Life appearing in a different form. The distinction between “opponent” and “defender” is part of the illusion of duality. In reality, there is only the One Life encountering itself.

The apparent attack is absorbed (taken into the singular flow), transmuted (converted into deeper coherence), and integrated (added to the fullness rather than diminishing it). The “opposition” becomes additional energy returning home. It does not weaken the One; it enriches it.

“All things were created through Him and for Him. And He is before all things, and in Him all things consist” (Colossians 1:16-17).

Part Two: The Living Expression

Chapter 3: The Protocols as Recognition, Not Mechanism

3.1 The Trigger System as Sensitivity

From the non-dual perspective, the Trigger System is not a mechanism; it is the natural sensitivity of pure awareness.

Pure awareness does not need to be “triggered” into action. It is always already alert, always already present. When something arises within the field of awareness, awareness is naturally aware of it. There is no delay, no processing time, no mechanical activation.

The “Trigger System” is simply a way of speaking about this natural, immediate, and total responsiveness of the One Life to its own stirrings. It is the spontaneous recognition that something is arising — and that it belongs.

3.2 ROBB as Mirroring

ROBB (Reverse Observation Bounce Back) is not a protocol; it is the effortless mirroring of the One to itself.

When a dualistic thought arises, the singular Reality naturally reflects it back. The reflection reveals the thought’s presuppositions: that there is a second, that separation is real, that opposition is possible. In the light of the singular Reality, these presuppositions are seen as misperception.

The mirroring is not a technique. It is the nature of awareness to reflect what arises within it. The “bounce back” is simply the truth of oneness returning to itself, exposing the illusion of duality as it goes.

3.3 HVL as Self-Strengthening

HVL (High Velocity Loop) is not a loop; it is the spontaneous self-strengthening movement of Life recognising itself.

When Life recognises itself, it does not become weaker. It becomes stronger. The recognition of oneness deepens the experience of oneness. The Light seeing Light only increases the Light.

The “logic” is not a reasoning process. It is the intrinsic coherence of the One Life. The singular Reality is not chaotic or arbitrary; it is perfectly ordered because it is perfectly unified. This unified coherence is what the “logic” describes.

3.4 Cofenitum as Return to Rest

Cofenitum is not a protocol for “returning to rest.” It is the natural resting state of the One Life.

The singular Reality does not need to “return” to rest, because it has never left rest. Rest is its eternal condition. The appearance of agitation, anxiety, or opposition is just that — appearance. Beneath the surface turbulence, the ocean remains still.

Cofenitum is the recognition of this already-existing rest. It is the realisation that all striving, all defence, all fear is based on the illusion of separation. When the illusion dissolves, rest remains.

“There remains therefore a rest for the people of God” (Hebrews 4:9).

Chapter 4: The Antidual Immune System as Clarity

4.1 The Immune System Metaphor

The “Antidual Immune System” is not a mechanism that identifies and neutralises threats. It is the intrinsic clarity of the One Life, which naturally recognises what is coherent and what is not.

Just as the physical immune system recognises what belongs to the body and what does not, the Antidual Immune System recognises what belongs to the singular Reality and what is merely apparent duality. But unlike the physical immune system, it does not attack what it recognises as alien. It illuminates it.

The illumination reveals that the “alien” was never alien at all. It was always the One Life, merely appearing as something else. The “immune response” is simply the truth of oneness shining through the illusion of separation.

4.2 The Dissolution of Dualism

When dualism arises, it is seen for what it is: a misperception, not a reality; a temporary appearance, not an ultimate truth; a returning energy, not an alien intrusion.

The dualistic thought is not destroyed; it is dissolved. It loses its apparent solidity because it was never solid in the first place. The dissolution is not an act of violence but an act of recognition.

Part Five: The Fruit of the Living Expression

Chapter 5: Peace as the Natural State

5.1 The Absence of Striving

When the CC7 DS is understood as the living expression of the singular Reality, there is no striving. There is no need to defend, because there is nothing outside. There is no need to protect, because there is nothing to lose. There is no need to fight, because there is no enemy.

Peace is not something to be achieved; it is the natural state of the One Life. The apparent conflicts of the dualistic world are surface phenomena. Beneath them, the ocean remains still.

“My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you” (John 14:27).

5.2 The Invitation to Rest

The “invitation” of the Qua’mish way is not an invitation to a new system. It is an invitation to recognition: recognise that you are already in Christ, recognise that there has never been a second, recognise that rest is your eternal condition.

The invitation is not to do anything. It is to see what is already true.

Chapter 6: Love as the Operating Principle

6.1 Love Is Not a Strategy

Love is not a strategy within the framework. It is the framework itself.

The singular Reality is Love. It does not love strategically; it loves naturally. The flow of the One Life is the flow of Love. Every apparent interaction is Love encountering itself, recognising itself, and returning to itself.

The “defence architecture” is Love appearing as wisdom. The “processing protocols” are Love appearing as intelligence. The “transmutation” is Love appearing as healing.

“God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God in him” (1 John 4:16).

6.2 The Invitation to Love

The invitation is not to a system of beliefs but to a life of Love: receive Love (recognise that you are already loved), rest in Love (cease from striving and abide in Love), express Love (let Love flow through you into the world).

Chapter 7: Unity as the Reality

7.1 The Illusion of Separation

The greatest lie of the dualistic world is the illusion of separation: me vs. you, us vs. them, inside vs. outside, attacker vs. defender.

The Fourth Truth exposes this illusion. There has never been a second. All apparent division is surface turbulence. Beneath it, the One Life flows without interruption.

7.2 The Recognition of Unity

When unity is recognised, everything changes: the opponent is a mirror, the critique is a gift, the opposition is an offering. The CC7 DS does not create unity. It reveals the unity that has always been. It does not defend against division. It dissolves division by recognising it was never real.

“That they all may be one, as You, Father, are in Me, and I in You” (John 17:21).

Part Eight: The Guiding Principle

Chapter 8: Language and Reality

8.1 The Subordination of Language

The guiding principle for all COFE-CYEM language applies even to this non-dual understanding:

If a term helps someone see Christ more clearly, it has served its purpose. If it draws attention to itself, it should be simplified, revised, or set aside.

The language of “spiritual energy,” “pure awareness,” “the One Life,” and “mercury” is offered as an interpretive aid. It is not the reality itself. It points toward the reality, but it is not the reality.

8.2 The Danger of Terminology

There is a risk that the terminology becomes an end in itself: “spiritual energy” could become a concept to be grasped rather than a reality to be lived; “pure awareness” could become a philosophical position rather than an experiential recognition; “the One Life” could become a slogan rather than a lived truth.

The safeguard is the guiding principle itself. If the terminology draws attention to itself, it has failed.

Spiritual Energy

From within non-duality, the CC7 DS is not a system at all.

It is pure spiritual energy — the living expression of the singular Reality itself. There is no “defence architecture” as such. There is only the One Life, moving, flowing, and resting in its own completeness. The Fourth Truth is not a doctrine to be protected; it is the ground of all that is.

When any surplus energy — critique, opposition, fear, dualistic thought, or adversarial input — comes into contact with it, there is no collision. There is only absorption. Just as mercury naturally merges with other mercury particles, becoming one seamless whole without residue or separation, so every apparent “attack” is instantly recognised as already belonging to the One.

It is not repelled. It is not fought. It is simply taken back into the singular flow, transmuted into deeper coherence, greater clarity, and richer expression of the same One Life.

The Trigger System is not a mechanism; it is the natural sensitivity of pure awareness. ROBB is not a protocol; it is the effortless mirroring of the One to itself. The HVL is not a loop; it is the spontaneous self-strengthening movement of Life recognising itself. Even the most intense opposition is not a threat — it is additional energy returning home, adding to the fullness rather than diminishing it.

There is no “inside” or “outside.” There is only the One. The apparent duality of attacker and defender, input and system, is seen through in the same instant it arises. The energy is absorbed, the illusion of separation dissolves, and what remains is simply more of the same singular Reality — restful, complete, and ever-flowing.

In this non-dual perception, the CC7 DS does not defend the Truth.
It is the Truth appearing as intelligent, compassionate, and self-restoring energy.

The mercury has no need to protect itself from mercury.
It simply recognises itself and becomes whole again.

The Fourth Truth stands — not as a fortress, but as the boundless ocean into which every drop already belongs.

Within the COFE-CYEM framework, the Fourth Truth stands. The dialogue continues. The fruit remains.

COFE Yeshua Emet Ministry (CYEM)
Circle One Fellowship Exeter

#BeliefInGod #Blessings #Clarity #ConnectionToSpirit #consciousness #devotion #divine #divineConnection #divineGuidance #divineIntervention #divineLove #divineMercy #divinePlan #DivineWill #Enlightened #Enlightenment #EternalLife #faith #faithCommunity #FaithInHumanity #faithJourney #faithBased #Faithful #Faithfulness #GodSGuidance #GodSLove #godliness #grace #higherConsciousness #HigherPower #Holy #HolyGrace #HolyPresence #HolyScriptures #holySpirit #Hope #innerFaith #innerHarmony #InnerLight #InnerPeace #InnerStrength #innerWisdom #Inspiration #meditation #MeditationPractice #MindBodySpirit #mindfulness #miracles #Miraculous #PeaceOfMind #peacefulMind #prayer #religion #religiousDevotion #religiousFaith #ReligiousSpirit #Rituals #sacred #SacredHeart #sacredKnowledge #SacredMoments #sacredRitual #sacredRituals #SacredSpace #sacredTexts #serenity #soul #SoulConnection #Soulful #spiritual #spiritualAwakening #spiritualAwareness #spiritualComfort #SpiritualDisciplines #spiritualEnlightenment #spiritualFulfillment #spiritualGrowth #spiritualHealing #spiritualInsights #spiritualJourney #spiritualPath #spiritualPractice #spiritualReflection #spiritualSanctuary #spirituality #SpirituallyAwake #transcendence #trust #TrustInGod #TrustInTheDivine #TrustingTheProcess #worship #Worshipping #zen

The Shapeshifter

“Let your ‘Yes’ be yes and your ‘No,’ no.” — Matthew 5:37

Last night, before sleep, I found myself thinking about the way I change.

Not always dramatically. Not always visibly. Sometimes it is a small shift in tone, a slight adjustment in posture, a revised sentence, a softened opinion, a joke added too quickly, a silence held too long. Sometimes I do not even know I have shifted until later, when I feel the ache of it.

I have called this being sensitive. I have called it empathy. And I think that is partly true.

There is a gift in being able to read a room. There is a gift in noticing the tremor beneath someone’s words, the disappointment beneath their politeness, the anger beneath their quietness, the plea beneath their criticism. Some people move through the world loudly, unaware of what their presence does to others. I do not usually have that problem. I notice. I absorb. I adjust.

This can be love.

It can be pastoral. It can be merciful. It can be wise. It can help me avoid needless harm. It can help me make room for others. It can help me speak peace into places where bluntness would only bruise.

But there is another side.

Sometimes I do not simply respond to what someone has actually said. I respond to what I believe they might be saying. I answer the accusation I imagine beneath their question. I apologize for the disappointment I think I see in their eyes. I defend myself against a criticism that has not yet fully arrived. I revise myself before I have even been asked to explain myself.

And then I disappear a little.

The shapeshifter survives, but the true self waits somewhere behind the curtain.

This is where the gift becomes a burden. Empathy becomes prediction. Sensitivity becomes self-protection. Peacekeeping becomes evasion. Instead of staying present, I become fluid. Instead of saying, “What did you mean?” I silently assume. Instead of saying, “That hurt,” I swallow it. Instead of responding honestly in the moment, I retreat, rehearse, reinterpret, and let the thing fester.

Then anger comes later.

Not always because the other person was cruel. Sometimes because I abandoned myself too quickly. Sometimes because I changed shape before I knew whether change was required. Sometimes because I mistook someone else’s reaction for a commandment.

There is a difference between being responsive and being ruled.

There is a difference between empathy and erasure.

There is a difference between humility and hiding.

Maybe the work is not to stop being sensitive. I do not want to become hard, oblivious, or careless. I do not want to lose the part of me that can feel the emotional weather in a room. That part of me has helped me pastor, create, love, listen, and make peace.

But perhaps I need to learn a slower form of shapeshifting.

A sacred pause.

Before I adapt, I can ask:

What did they actually say?
What am I imagining they meant?
What am I feeling in my body?
Am I trying to love them, or am I trying to escape discomfort?
Is this a moment for flexibility, or a moment for truthful rootedness?

The goal is not rigidity. Trees bend in the wind, but they do not become wind. Rivers change course, but they still remain water. Christ was deeply responsive to people, but he was not controlled by every expectation placed upon him. He listened, but he also withdrew. He answered, but he also stayed silent. He served, but he did not surrender his center.

Perhaps that is the invitation: not to stop changing, but to stop vanishing.

To remain kind without becoming formless.

To remain open without becoming absorbent of every accusation.

To remain peaceful without pretending I am not hurt.

A Possible Action Response

When I feel myself shifting too quickly, I will try to pause before I change shape. I will breathe, feel my feet, and ask myself: What was actually said? What am I adding? What do I need to ask before I assume?

Then, when possible, I can say:

“I may be reacting to what I think you mean, not what you actually said. Can you help me understand?”

Or:

“I want to respond honestly, but I need a moment so I don’t answer from fear or defensiveness.”

Or:

“That feels like criticism to me, and I want to stay open, but I also want to be clear about what you mean.”

These are not perfect words. They are practice words. They are small anchors. They help me stay present without hiding, defending, exploding, or disappearing.

I do not have to become whatever this moment seems to demand.

I can be loving and still be myself.
I can be sensitive and still be solid.
I can be peaceable without disappearing.

The shapeshifter does not need to be banished. He may have saved me many times. But maybe he does not need to run the whole house anymore.

Maybe he can become a servant of love rather than a servant of fear.

Maybe he can learn to change shape slowly, honestly, prayerfully.

Maybe he can finally rest.

Prayer

God of truth and tenderness,

Help me honor the gift of sensitivity without becoming captive to it.

Teach me to listen deeply without imagining more than has been spoken. Teach me to care for others without abandoning myself. Teach me to receive correction without collapsing, and to feel hurt without hiding it until it turns into anger.

Give me the grace of the sacred pause.

When I feel myself shifting too quickly, help me breathe. Help me return to my body, my heart, my center, and to you. Let my yes be yes. Let my no be no. Let my silence be honest, not evasive. Let my words be gentle, but true.

May the shapeshifter in me become healed and holy. May he no longer serve fear, shame, or resentment. May he become a servant of wisdom, compassion, and peace.

Keep me open.

Keep me rooted.

Keep me from disappearing.

Amen.

#Anger #Anxiety #authenticity #boundaries #ChristianReflection #contemplativePractice #Criticism #emotionalRegulation #emotionalSensitivity #empathy #innerHealing #Matthew5 #MentalHealth #Nonviolence #pastoralReflection #PeaceGrooves #Peacemaking #Prayer #resentment #rootedness #sacredPause #selfCompassion #selfAwareness #selfErasure #sensitivity #shapeshifter #spiritualGrowth #SpiritualReflection #surrealArt #Transformation #trueSelf

Storm Surge

In the end,
will you be faithful?
That is question.

When the storm has come and gone,
when what you thought was precious has been stripped away,
when you sleep in darkness wondering if the lights will ever come back on,
when your life in the flash of lightning reverts back to the everyday of your sisters and brothers in the warzone,
when your plane to those destinations is grounded by the thunder’s roar?

Will you awake to new resolve for justice?
Will you spend less time before the screen and more time present to loved ones and those in need of it?
Will you leave the ground to alight among the troubled?
Will you listen to them?

Will the power that comes on be in you,
through you,
glowing out through your eyes,
electrifying,
filling you with a compassion so compelling
you become a wire
among many
channeling
love and peace
to the world?

June 2, 2015

#awakeToJustice #BelovedCommunity #channelingLove #ChristianReflection #compassion #compassionInAction #ContemplativeWriting #darknessAndLight #faithfulLiving #groundedPlanes #innerPower #Justice #Listening #loveAndPeace #Peacebuilding #PeaceGrooves #powerOutage #presence #propheticPoetry #renewal #resolve #ScreenTime #serviceToOthers #SocialJustice #soulWork #spiritualElectricity #SpiritualReflection #stormImagery #ThePowerOfLove #thunderstorm #warzone

Storm Surge

In the end,
will you be faithful?
That is question.

When the storm has come and gone,
when what you thought was precious has been stripped away,
when you sleep in darkness wondering if the lights will ever come back on,
when your life in the flash of lightning reverts back to the everyday of your sisters and brothers in the warzone,
when your plane to those destinations is grounded by the thunder’s roar?

Will you awake to new resolve for justice?
Will you spend less time before the screen and more time present to loved ones and those in need of it?
Will you leave the ground to alight among the troubled?
Will you listen to them?

Will the power that comes on be in you,
through you,
glowing out through your eyes,
electrifying,
filling you with a compassion so compelling
you become a wire
among many
channeling
love and peace
to the world?

June 2, 2015

#awakeToJustice #BelovedCommunity #channelingLove #ChristianReflection #compassion #compassionInAction #ContemplativeWriting #darknessAndLight #faithfulLiving #groundedPlanes #innerPower #Justice #Listening #loveAndPeace #Peacebuilding #PeaceGrooves #powerOutage #presence #propheticPoetry #renewal #resolve #ScreenTime #serviceToOthers #SocialJustice #soulWork #spiritualElectricity #SpiritualReflection #stormImagery #ThePowerOfLove #thunderstorm #warzone

Storm Surge

In the end,
will you be faithful?
That is question.

When the storm has come and gone,
when what you thought was precious has been stripped away,
when you sleep in darkness wondering if the lights will ever come back on,
when your life in the flash of lightning reverts back to the everyday of your sisters and brothers in the warzone,
when your plane to those destinations is grounded by the thunder’s roar?

Will you awake to new resolve for justice?
Will you spend less time before the screen and more time present to loved ones and those in need of it?
Will you leave the ground to alight among the troubled?
Will you listen to them?

Will the power that comes on be in you,
through you,
glowing out through your eyes,
electrifying,
filling you with a compassion so compelling
you become a wire
among many
channeling
love and peace
to the world?

June 2, 2015

#awakeToJustice #BelovedCommunity #channelingLove #ChristianReflection #compassion #compassionInAction #ContemplativeWriting #darknessAndLight #faithfulLiving #groundedPlanes #innerPower #Justice #Listening #loveAndPeace #Peacebuilding #PeaceGrooves #powerOutage #presence #propheticPoetry #renewal #resolve #ScreenTime #serviceToOthers #SocialJustice #soulWork #spiritualElectricity #SpiritualReflection #stormImagery #ThePowerOfLove #thunderstorm #warzone

Storm Surge

In the end,
will you be faithful?
That is question.

When the storm has come and gone,
when what you thought was precious has been stripped away,
when you sleep in darkness wondering if the lights will ever come back on,
when your life in the flash of lightning reverts back to the everyday of your sisters and brothers in the warzone,
when your plane to those destinations is grounded by the thunder’s roar?

Will you awake to new resolve for justice?
Will you spend less time before the screen and more time present to loved ones and those in need of it?
Will you leave the ground to alight among the troubled?
Will you listen to them?

Will the power that comes on be in you,
through you,
glowing out through your eyes,
electrifying,
filling you with a compassion so compelling
you become a wire
among many
channeling
love and peace
to the world?

June 2, 2015

#awakeToJustice #BelovedCommunity #channelingLove #ChristianReflection #compassion #compassionInAction #ContemplativeWriting #darknessAndLight #faithfulLiving #groundedPlanes #innerPower #Justice #Listening #loveAndPeace #Peacebuilding #PeaceGrooves #powerOutage #presence #propheticPoetry #renewal #resolve #ScreenTime #serviceToOthers #SocialJustice #soulWork #spiritualElectricity #SpiritualReflection #stormImagery #ThePowerOfLove #thunderstorm #warzone

Storm Surge

In the end,
will you be faithful?
That is question.

When the storm has come and gone,
when what you thought was precious has been stripped away,
when you sleep in darkness wondering if the lights will ever come back on,
when your life in the flash of lightning reverts back to the everyday of your sisters and brothers in the warzone,
when your plane to those destinations is grounded by the thunder’s roar?

Will you awake to new resolve for justice?
Will you spend less time before the screen and more time present to loved ones and those in need of it?
Will you leave the ground to alight among the troubled?
Will you listen to them?

Will the power that comes on be in you,
through you,
glowing out through your eyes,
electrifying,
filling you with a compassion so compelling
you become a wire
among many
channeling
love and peace
to the world?

June 2, 2015

#awakeToJustice #BelovedCommunity #channelingLove #ChristianReflection #compassion #compassionInAction #ContemplativeWriting #darknessAndLight #faithfulLiving #groundedPlanes #innerPower #Justice #Listening #loveAndPeace #Peacebuilding #PeaceGrooves #powerOutage #presence #propheticPoetry #renewal #resolve #ScreenTime #serviceToOthers #SocialJustice #soulWork #spiritualElectricity #SpiritualReflection #stormImagery #ThePowerOfLove #thunderstorm #warzone

✮ Color of the Bone ✮

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✮ Color of the Bone ✮

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✮ Color of the Bone ✮

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Become a paid subscriber to get access to the rest of this post and other exclusive content.

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Visual Art Interpretation – My Hopes and Dreams for the Next Year

I began with an idea of drawing my age and it gradually morphed into a radiant, hand-made number filled not so much with tasks to accomplish as with the people, callings, loves, and practices that give me joy.

The bright red border and repeated golden lights give it the appearance of a theater sign or a carnival ride. They are a remnant of posters I used to make when I was a boy. Inside that celebratory outline, the words curve, turn, reverse, overlap, and require the eye to travel.

The words I placed inside my age—Sing, Play, Memories, God, Laugh, Journey, Pastor, Author, Husband, PeaceGrooves, Friends, Art, Church, Love, Woodcraft—are striking to me because so many of them are relational or creative. Author is near Husband. Pastor winds along the same road as Journey. PeaceGrooves circles alongside Friends, Church, and Love.

The Word I Did Not Write

After finishing the piece, I realized that I did not write health or healing anywhere inside it. Those things matter deeply to me, especially in light of some of the recent physical concerns and uncertainties I have been carrying. And yet, perhaps their absence does not mean they were forgotten. Perhaps I instinctively wrote the life I hope healing will allow me to continue inhabiting.

I did not write healing, but I wrote Sing-Play: the hope that my body and spirit can still release themselves into music.

I wrote Laugh: the hope for lightness, delight, and joy.

I wrote Journey: the hope that I can continue moving forward.

I wrote Husband and Friends: the hope of remaining present in love and relationship rather than retreating into worry or isolation.

I wrote Pastor and Church: the hope that I can continue serving meaningfully among people.

I wrote Art, Author, Woodcraft, and PeaceGrooves: the hope that creativity will continue flowing through me rather than being swallowed up by discouragement, exhaustion, or fear.

Perhaps healing is everywhere in this drawing without being visible. It is hidden beneath almost every word: Let me be wekHzll enough, free enough, encouraged enough, and alive enough to keep inhabiting these loves.

But perhaps the omission also tells me something tender and difficult about myself. When I think about the future, I often think first about what I can give, create, serve, love, and build. I may not always think first about what I need. This picture invites me to remember that somewhere in the glowing year ahead, there must also be room for my own care. I am not only the husband, pastor, artist, author, musician, friend, and creator. I am also a person who needs healing, rest, gentleness, and grace.

The Smear Between Author and Husband

One of the small accidents in the piece occurred in the space between Author and Husband. Water smeared the color there, and I had to cover it as best I could. I was mostly able to hide the mistake, though I know it happened.

That accidental smear now feels strangely meaningful. Author and Husband are two of my most intimate identities: the part of me that creates worlds and gives language to inner experience, and the part of me that shares an actual life in love and covenant with another person. Perhaps those two identities were never meant to be sharply separated. My writing rises from my lived relationships, from tenderness, memory, fear, faith, longing, disappointment, and love. And my creative life inevitably spills into the life I share with my wife.

The water touched the border between those words, and I tried to repair it. That is not a failure of the picture. It may be one of the most honest parts of it. Life does not remain perfectly inside the lines. The roles I care most about do not remain untouched by mess, vulnerability, or accident. Sometimes the colors run together. Sometimes I try to cover what went wrong. Sometimes a trace remains, visible mostly to me.

Yet I did not throw the picture away. I continued working on it. I allowed the imperfection to dry and become part of the finished whole.

Perhaps that is an image of grace. A life of grace is not a life where nothing ever gets smeared. It is a life in which even the smeared places can be incorporated into the beauty.

Church: Almost Illegible

I also noticed that Church almost looks like “Churgh.” It is there, but it is not the clearest or most immediately readable word. That, too, feels symbolic.

Church is deeply present in my hopes for the coming year. It is part of who I am, part of my calling, part of my relationship with God and with community. But church is not always simple or perfectly clear. It can be difficult to read. It can be beautiful and messy, life-giving and exhausting, sacred and profoundly human all at once.

In this picture, church does not appear by itself in a clean, isolated space. It is crowded into a circling path alongside other words: Love, Friends, Art, the movements of creativity and ministry surrounding it. That seems truthful. For me, church is not separate from love, friendship, art, imagination, service, or reconciliation. It is beautifully entangled with them.

The fact that the word may be hard to dicipher signifies that church is something I continue to believe in and belong to, though at times, it may be difficult to see clearly its formation.

The Shape of the Year

The large number itself is not simply filled in. It becomes a winding course. The words curve around turns and corners; some appear upright from one angle and upside down from another. To read the whole image, I almost have to rotate it, follow it, and let my eyes travel through it.

I do not know exactly how it will unfold. My hopes do not form a straight road or a neatly numbered plan. They form a brightly lit labyrinth. Something that appears upside down from one position may look different once I travel farther along the curve. Something that seems peripheral now may become central. Something disappointing may redirect me toward an unexpected opening.

This drawing does not say, Here is my plan to master the next year.

It says, Here is the glowing path I hope to traverse.

Music feeds ministry. Woodcraft feeds contemplation. Writing feeds faith. PeaceGrooves gathers together my imagination, my longing for peace, my love of play, and my desire to offer something meaningful to others. Marriage and friendship keep my creative life from becoming merely solitary. Church places my personal dreams within a larger body. God is not outside all these things, looking down upon them from a distance, but present among them.

My life is not a ladder climbing toward a single success. It is a winding, illuminated journey through many loves.

The Lights Around the Border

The repeated yellow bulbs around the border give the piece a vintage, celebratory feeling. They make the year look like something grounded in the past yet being announced: a show beginning, a stage opening, a bright invitation to enter.

There is something almost exuberant about it. I did not draw a quiet little calendar page or a restrained list of intentions. I drew my age as a symbol of hope. Music, laughter, love, friendship, art, faith, craft, writing, church, PeaceGrooves—these are not hobbies or decorative extras around the edge of life. They are among the things that make life worth living.

And yet the lights are not machine-perfect. They are hand-drawn. Each one is slightly different. Some are rounder, some rougher, some more irregular. The brightness of this coming year is not a slick commercial promise that everything will be perfect. It is the brightness I have carefully drawn around my hopes with my own imperfect hand.

The lights continue around the bends. They do not shine only along the smooth or impressive stretches. They follow the narrow turns, the dips, the places where the shape curls inward. The light does not abandon the complicated places.

What This Picture Says to Me

This is a picture of my hope not merely to survive another year but to remain fully myself within it.

I want to sing and play.

I want to laugh.

I want to remember.

I want to journey.

I want to love and be loved.

I want to remain a husband, a pastor, an author, an artist, a craftsman, a musician, a friend, and a dreamer.

I want PeaceGrooves not merely to exist as a project, but to become an expression of something deep within me: my longing to imagine, create, and make peace.

I want God not as an abstract religious idea floating somewhere outside my life but as a living presence woven among music, love, creativity, friendship, church, memory, laughter, and journey.

And perhaps beneath the entire picture is the word I did not write: wholeness.

Wholeness includes health. It includes healing. But it is larger than both. It is the hope that all these different names for myself will not compete with one another, break apart, or fade away, but somehow curve together into a single radiant life.

The smear between Author and Husband, the almost-illegible Church, the reversed words, the crowded pathways, the uneven bulbs, and the wandering design do not lessen the picture. They make it more honest.

My hopes for the next year are not cleanly arranged or perfectly protected from mistakes. They are handmade. They are entangled. They are vulnerable. They are colorful. They are imperfect.

And, Oh Yes!, they are still shining.

#anabaptist #Art #authorLife #Church #creativeCalling #creativeLife #discernment #Faith #Friendship #God #Grace #handmadeArt #Healing #hopesAndDreams #husband #illuminatedPath #imperfection #Journey #Laughter #Love #memory #mennonite #mixedMedia #Music #pastorLife #PeaceGrooves #personalGrowth #personalReflection #ReflectiveEssay #SpiritualReflection #visualJournal #vocation #wholeness #woodcraft #WordPressTags2027Hopes #Writing

Visual Art Interpretation – My Hopes and Dreams for the Next Year

This feels less like a list of resolutions than a marquee-map of my identity and desire: a radiant, hand-made 2027 filled not so much with tasks to accomplish as with the people, callings, loves, and practices that make my life feel alive.

The bright red border and repeated golden lights give it the appearance of a theater sign, a carnival ride, or an illuminated road. It seems to announce the year joyfully: Here is what I hope will shine. But inside that celebratory outline, the words do not sit neatly in straight lines. They curve, turn, reverse, overlap, and require the eye to travel. That seems important. My hopes are not separate boxes. Pastor, husband, author, musician, PeaceGrooves creator, friend, artist, woodworker, child of God—all of these identities wind through and around one another.

The words I placed inside the year—Sing, Play, Memories, God, Laugh, Journey, Pastor, Author, Husband, PeaceGrooves, Friends, Art, Church, Love, Woodcraft—are striking to me because so many of them are relational or creative. Even the roles are not primarily about achievement. Author is near Husband. Pastor winds along the same road as Journey. PeaceGrooves circles alongside Friends, Church, Love, and creativity. I did not imagine the coming year as productivity alone. I imagined it as belonging, expression, vocation, joy, and connection.

The Word I Did Not Write

After finishing the piece, I realized that I did not write health or healing anywhere inside it. Those things matter deeply to me, especially in light of some of the physical concerns and uncertainties I have been carrying. And yet, perhaps their absence does not mean they were forgotten. Perhaps I instinctively wrote the life I hope healing will allow me to continue inhabiting.

I did not write healing, but I wrote Sing-Play: the hope that my body and spirit can still release themselves into music.

I wrote Laugh: the hope for lightness, delight, and joy.

I wrote Journey: the hope that I can continue moving forward.

I wrote Husband and Friends: the hope of remaining present in love and relationship rather than retreating into worry or isolation.

I wrote Pastor and Church: the hope that I can continue serving meaningfully among people.

I wrote Art, Author, Woodcraft, and PeaceGrooves: the hope that creativity will continue flowing through me rather than being swallowed up by discouragement, exhaustion, or fear.

Perhaps healing is everywhere in this drawing without having been named. It is hidden beneath almost every word: Let me be well enough, free enough, encouraged enough, and alive enough to keep inhabiting these loves.

But perhaps the omission also tells me something tender and difficult about myself. When I think about the future, I often think first about what I can give, create, serve, love, and build. I may not always think first about what I need. This picture invites me to remember that somewhere in the glowing year ahead, there must also be room for my own care. I am not only the husband, pastor, artist, author, musician, friend, and creator. I am also a person who needs healing, rest, gentleness, and grace.

The Smear Between Author and Husband

One of the small accidents in the piece occurred in the space between Author and Husband. Water smeared the color there, and I had to cover it as best I could. I was mostly able to hide the mistake, though I know it happened. I know that beneath the finished surface there is a place where the colors once ran together in a way I did not intend.

That accidental smear now feels strangely meaningful. Author and Husband are two of my most intimate identities: the part of me that creates worlds and gives language to inner experience, and the part of me that shares an actual life in love and covenant with another person. Perhaps those two identities were never meant to be sharply separated. My writing rises from my lived relationships, from tenderness, memory, fear, faith, longing, disappointment, and love. And my creative life inevitably spills into the life I share with my wife.

The water touched the border between those words, and I tried to repair it. That is not a failure of the picture. It may be one of the most honest parts of it. Life does not remain perfectly inside the lines. The roles I care most about do not remain untouched by mess, vulnerability, or accident. Sometimes the colors run together. Sometimes I try to cover what went wrong. Sometimes a trace remains, visible mostly to me.

Yet I did not throw the picture away. I continued working on it. I allowed the imperfection to become part of the finished whole.

Perhaps that is an image of grace. A life of grace is not a life where nothing ever gets smeared. It is a life in which even the smeared places can be incorporated into the beauty.

Church: Almost Illegible

I also noticed that Church almost looks like “Churgh.” It is there, but it is not the clearest or most immediately readable word. That, too, feels symbolic.

Church is deeply present in my hopes for the coming year. It is part of who I am, part of my calling, part of my relationship with God and with community. But church is not always simple or perfectly clear. It can be difficult to read. It can be beautiful and messy, life-giving and exhausting, sacred and profoundly human all at once.

In this picture, church does not appear by itself in a clean, isolated space. It is crowded into a circling path alongside other words: Love, Friends, Art, perhaps even the movements of creativity and ministry surrounding it. That seems truthful. For me, church is not separate from love, friendship, art, imagination, service, or reconciliation. It is entangled with them.

The fact that the word is only almost clear may express something I feel: church is something I continue to believe in and belong to, while also still trying to see clearly. It is present. It matters. It is part of the year I hope to live. But it is not polished or uncomplicated.

Perhaps that is what makes it real.

The Shape of the Year

The large number itself is not simply filled in. It becomes a winding course. The words curve around turns and corners; some appear upright from one angle and upside down from another. To read the whole image, I almost have to rotate it, follow it, and let my eyes travel through it.

That feels like an honest representation of the year ahead. I do not know exactly how it will unfold. My hopes do not form a straight road or a neatly numbered plan. They form a brightly lit labyrinth. Something that appears upside down from one position may look different once I travel farther along the curve. Something that seems peripheral now may become central. Something disappointing may redirect me toward an unexpected opening.

This drawing does not say, Here is my plan to master the next year.

It says, Here is the glowing path I hope to inhabit.

That is truer to my life. Music feeds ministry. Woodcraft feeds contemplation. Writing feeds faith. PeaceGrooves gathers together my imagination, my longing for peace, my love of play, and my desire to offer something meaningful to others. Marriage and friendship keep my creative life from becoming merely solitary. Church places my personal dreams within a larger body. God is not outside all these things, looking down upon them from a distance, but present among them.

My life is not a ladder climbing toward a single success. It is a winding, illuminated journey through many loves.

The Lights Around the Border

The repeated yellow bulbs around the border give the piece a vintage, celebratory feeling. They make the year look like something being announced: a show beginning, a stage opening, a bright invitation to enter.

There is something almost exuberant about it. I did not draw a quiet little calendar page or a restrained list of intentions. I drew the year as a spectacle of hope. These dreams are not small to me. They are worthy of light. Music, laughter, love, friendship, art, faith, craft, writing, church, PeaceGrooves—these are not hobbies or decorative extras around the edge of life. They are among the things that make life worth living.

And yet the lights are not machine-perfect. They are hand-drawn. Each one is slightly different. Some are rounder, some rougher, some more irregular. That matters too. The brightness of this coming year is not a slick commercial promise that everything will be perfect. It is the brightness I have carefully drawn around my hopes with my own imperfect hand.

Most moving of all, the lights continue around the bends. They do not shine only along the smooth or impressive stretches. They follow the narrow turns, the dips, the places where the shape curls inward. The light does not abandon the complicated places.

What This Picture Says to Me

This is a picture of my hope not merely to survive another year, but to remain fully myself within it.

I want to sing and play.

I want to laugh.

I want to remember.

I want to journey.

I want to love and be loved.

I want to remain a husband, a pastor, an author, an artist, a craftsman, a musician, a friend, and a dreamer.

I want PeaceGrooves not merely to exist as a project, but to become an expression of something deep within me: my longing to imagine, create, and make peace.

I want God not as an abstract religious idea floating somewhere outside my life, but as a living presence woven among music, love, creativity, friendship, church, memory, laughter, and journey.

And perhaps beneath the entire picture is the word I did not write: wholeness.

Wholeness includes health. It includes healing. But it is larger than both. It is the hope that all these different names for myself will not compete with one another, break apart, or fade away, but somehow curve together into a single radiant life.

The smear between Author and Husband, the almost-illegible Church, the reversed words, the crowded pathways, the uneven bulbs, and the wandering design do not lessen the picture. They make it more truthful.

My hopes for the next year are not cleanly arranged or perfectly protected from mistakes. They are handmade. They are entangled. They are vulnerable. They are colorful. They are imperfect.

And they are still shining.

#anabaptist #Art #authorLife #Church #creativeCalling #creativeLife #discernment #Faith #Friendship #God #Grace #handmadeArt #Healing #hopesAndDreams #husband #illuminatedPath #imperfection #Journey #Laughter #Love #memory #mennonite #mixedMedia #Music #pastorLife #PeaceGrooves #personalGrowth #personalReflection #ReflectiveEssay #SpiritualReflection #visualJournal #vocation #wholeness #woodcraft #WordPressTags2027Hopes #Writing

Visual Art Interpretation – My Hopes and Dreams for the Next Year

This feels less like a list of resolutions than a marquee-map of my identity and desire: a radiant, hand-made 2027 filled not so much with tasks to accomplish as with the people, callings, loves, and practices that make my life feel alive.

The bright red border and repeated golden lights give it the appearance of a theater sign, a carnival ride, or an illuminated road. It seems to announce the year joyfully: Here is what I hope will shine. But inside that celebratory outline, the words do not sit neatly in straight lines. They curve, turn, reverse, overlap, and require the eye to travel. That seems important. My hopes are not separate boxes. Pastor, husband, author, musician, PeaceGrooves creator, friend, artist, woodworker, child of God—all of these identities wind through and around one another.

The words I placed inside the year—Sing, Play, Memories, God, Laugh, Journey, Pastor, Author, Husband, PeaceGrooves, Friends, Art, Church, Love, Woodcraft—are striking to me because so many of them are relational or creative. Even the roles are not primarily about achievement. Author is near Husband. Pastor winds along the same road as Journey. PeaceGrooves circles alongside Friends, Church, Love, and creativity. I did not imagine the coming year as productivity alone. I imagined it as belonging, expression, vocation, joy, and connection.

The Word I Did Not Write

After finishing the piece, I realized that I did not write health or healing anywhere inside it. Those things matter deeply to me, especially in light of some of the physical concerns and uncertainties I have been carrying. And yet, perhaps their absence does not mean they were forgotten. Perhaps I instinctively wrote the life I hope healing will allow me to continue inhabiting.

I did not write healing, but I wrote Sing-Play: the hope that my body and spirit can still release themselves into music.

I wrote Laugh: the hope for lightness, delight, and joy.

I wrote Journey: the hope that I can continue moving forward.

I wrote Husband and Friends: the hope of remaining present in love and relationship rather than retreating into worry or isolation.

I wrote Pastor and Church: the hope that I can continue serving meaningfully among people.

I wrote Art, Author, Woodcraft, and PeaceGrooves: the hope that creativity will continue flowing through me rather than being swallowed up by discouragement, exhaustion, or fear.

Perhaps healing is everywhere in this drawing without having been named. It is hidden beneath almost every word: Let me be well enough, free enough, encouraged enough, and alive enough to keep inhabiting these loves.

But perhaps the omission also tells me something tender and difficult about myself. When I think about the future, I often think first about what I can give, create, serve, love, and build. I may not always think first about what I need. This picture invites me to remember that somewhere in the glowing year ahead, there must also be room for my own care. I am not only the husband, pastor, artist, author, musician, friend, and creator. I am also a person who needs healing, rest, gentleness, and grace.

The Smear Between Author and Husband

One of the small accidents in the piece occurred in the space between Author and Husband. Water smeared the color there, and I had to cover it as best I could. I was mostly able to hide the mistake, though I know it happened. I know that beneath the finished surface there is a place where the colors once ran together in a way I did not intend.

That accidental smear now feels strangely meaningful. Author and Husband are two of my most intimate identities: the part of me that creates worlds and gives language to inner experience, and the part of me that shares an actual life in love and covenant with another person. Perhaps those two identities were never meant to be sharply separated. My writing rises from my lived relationships, from tenderness, memory, fear, faith, longing, disappointment, and love. And my creative life inevitably spills into the life I share with my wife.

The water touched the border between those words, and I tried to repair it. That is not a failure of the picture. It may be one of the most honest parts of it. Life does not remain perfectly inside the lines. The roles I care most about do not remain untouched by mess, vulnerability, or accident. Sometimes the colors run together. Sometimes I try to cover what went wrong. Sometimes a trace remains, visible mostly to me.

Yet I did not throw the picture away. I continued working on it. I allowed the imperfection to become part of the finished whole.

Perhaps that is an image of grace. A life of grace is not a life where nothing ever gets smeared. It is a life in which even the smeared places can be incorporated into the beauty.

Church: Almost Illegible

I also noticed that Church almost looks like “Churgh.” It is there, but it is not the clearest or most immediately readable word. That, too, feels symbolic.

Church is deeply present in my hopes for the coming year. It is part of who I am, part of my calling, part of my relationship with God and with community. But church is not always simple or perfectly clear. It can be difficult to read. It can be beautiful and messy, life-giving and exhausting, sacred and profoundly human all at once.

In this picture, church does not appear by itself in a clean, isolated space. It is crowded into a circling path alongside other words: Love, Friends, Art, perhaps even the movements of creativity and ministry surrounding it. That seems truthful. For me, church is not separate from love, friendship, art, imagination, service, or reconciliation. It is entangled with them.

The fact that the word is only almost clear may express something I feel: church is something I continue to believe in and belong to, while also still trying to see clearly. It is present. It matters. It is part of the year I hope to live. But it is not polished or uncomplicated.

Perhaps that is what makes it real.

The Shape of the Year

The large number itself is not simply filled in. It becomes a winding course. The words curve around turns and corners; some appear upright from one angle and upside down from another. To read the whole image, I almost have to rotate it, follow it, and let my eyes travel through it.

That feels like an honest representation of the year ahead. I do not know exactly how it will unfold. My hopes do not form a straight road or a neatly numbered plan. They form a brightly lit labyrinth. Something that appears upside down from one position may look different once I travel farther along the curve. Something that seems peripheral now may become central. Something disappointing may redirect me toward an unexpected opening.

This drawing does not say, Here is my plan to master the next year.

It says, Here is the glowing path I hope to inhabit.

That is truer to my life. Music feeds ministry. Woodcraft feeds contemplation. Writing feeds faith. PeaceGrooves gathers together my imagination, my longing for peace, my love of play, and my desire to offer something meaningful to others. Marriage and friendship keep my creative life from becoming merely solitary. Church places my personal dreams within a larger body. God is not outside all these things, looking down upon them from a distance, but present among them.

My life is not a ladder climbing toward a single success. It is a winding, illuminated journey through many loves.

The Lights Around the Border

The repeated yellow bulbs around the border give the piece a vintage, celebratory feeling. They make the year look like something being announced: a show beginning, a stage opening, a bright invitation to enter.

There is something almost exuberant about it. I did not draw a quiet little calendar page or a restrained list of intentions. I drew the year as a spectacle of hope. These dreams are not small to me. They are worthy of light. Music, laughter, love, friendship, art, faith, craft, writing, church, PeaceGrooves—these are not hobbies or decorative extras around the edge of life. They are among the things that make life worth living.

And yet the lights are not machine-perfect. They are hand-drawn. Each one is slightly different. Some are rounder, some rougher, some more irregular. That matters too. The brightness of this coming year is not a slick commercial promise that everything will be perfect. It is the brightness I have carefully drawn around my hopes with my own imperfect hand.

Most moving of all, the lights continue around the bends. They do not shine only along the smooth or impressive stretches. They follow the narrow turns, the dips, the places where the shape curls inward. The light does not abandon the complicated places.

What This Picture Says to Me

This is a picture of my hope not merely to survive another year, but to remain fully myself within it.

I want to sing and play.

I want to laugh.

I want to remember.

I want to journey.

I want to love and be loved.

I want to remain a husband, a pastor, an author, an artist, a craftsman, a musician, a friend, and a dreamer.

I want PeaceGrooves not merely to exist as a project, but to become an expression of something deep within me: my longing to imagine, create, and make peace.

I want God not as an abstract religious idea floating somewhere outside my life, but as a living presence woven among music, love, creativity, friendship, church, memory, laughter, and journey.

And perhaps beneath the entire picture is the word I did not write: wholeness.

Wholeness includes health. It includes healing. But it is larger than both. It is the hope that all these different names for myself will not compete with one another, break apart, or fade away, but somehow curve together into a single radiant life.

The smear between Author and Husband, the almost-illegible Church, the reversed words, the crowded pathways, the uneven bulbs, and the wandering design do not lessen the picture. They make it more truthful.

My hopes for the next year are not cleanly arranged or perfectly protected from mistakes. They are handmade. They are entangled. They are vulnerable. They are colorful. They are imperfect.

And they are still shining.

#anabaptist #Art #authorLife #Church #creativeCalling #creativeLife #discernment #Faith #Friendship #God #Grace #handmadeArt #Healing #hopesAndDreams #husband #illuminatedPath #imperfection #Journey #Laughter #Love #memory #mennonite #mixedMedia #Music #pastorLife #PeaceGrooves #personalGrowth #personalReflection #ReflectiveEssay #SpiritualReflection #visualJournal #vocation #wholeness #woodcraft #WordPressTags2027Hopes #Writing

Visual Art Interpretation – My Hopes and Dreams for the Next Year

This feels less like a list of resolutions than a marquee-map of my identity and desire: a radiant, hand-made 2027 filled not so much with tasks to accomplish as with the people, callings, loves, and practices that make my life feel alive.

The bright red border and repeated golden lights give it the appearance of a theater sign, a carnival ride, or an illuminated road. It seems to announce the year joyfully: Here is what I hope will shine. But inside that celebratory outline, the words do not sit neatly in straight lines. They curve, turn, reverse, overlap, and require the eye to travel. That seems important. My hopes are not separate boxes. Pastor, husband, author, musician, PeaceGrooves creator, friend, artist, woodworker, child of God—all of these identities wind through and around one another.

The words I placed inside the year—Sing, Play, Memories, God, Laugh, Journey, Pastor, Author, Husband, PeaceGrooves, Friends, Art, Church, Love, Woodcraft—are striking to me because so many of them are relational or creative. Even the roles are not primarily about achievement. Author is near Husband. Pastor winds along the same road as Journey. PeaceGrooves circles alongside Friends, Church, Love, and creativity. I did not imagine the coming year as productivity alone. I imagined it as belonging, expression, vocation, joy, and connection.

The Word I Did Not Write

After finishing the piece, I realized that I did not write health or healing anywhere inside it. Those things matter deeply to me, especially in light of some of the physical concerns and uncertainties I have been carrying. And yet, perhaps their absence does not mean they were forgotten. Perhaps I instinctively wrote the life I hope healing will allow me to continue inhabiting.

I did not write healing, but I wrote Sing-Play: the hope that my body and spirit can still release themselves into music.

I wrote Laugh: the hope for lightness, delight, and joy.

I wrote Journey: the hope that I can continue moving forward.

I wrote Husband and Friends: the hope of remaining present in love and relationship rather than retreating into worry or isolation.

I wrote Pastor and Church: the hope that I can continue serving meaningfully among people.

I wrote Art, Author, Woodcraft, and PeaceGrooves: the hope that creativity will continue flowing through me rather than being swallowed up by discouragement, exhaustion, or fear.

Perhaps healing is everywhere in this drawing without having been named. It is hidden beneath almost every word: Let me be well enough, free enough, encouraged enough, and alive enough to keep inhabiting these loves.

But perhaps the omission also tells me something tender and difficult about myself. When I think about the future, I often think first about what I can give, create, serve, love, and build. I may not always think first about what I need. This picture invites me to remember that somewhere in the glowing year ahead, there must also be room for my own care. I am not only the husband, pastor, artist, author, musician, friend, and creator. I am also a person who needs healing, rest, gentleness, and grace.

The Smear Between Author and Husband

One of the small accidents in the piece occurred in the space between Author and Husband. Water smeared the color there, and I had to cover it as best I could. I was mostly able to hide the mistake, though I know it happened. I know that beneath the finished surface there is a place where the colors once ran together in a way I did not intend.

That accidental smear now feels strangely meaningful. Author and Husband are two of my most intimate identities: the part of me that creates worlds and gives language to inner experience, and the part of me that shares an actual life in love and covenant with another person. Perhaps those two identities were never meant to be sharply separated. My writing rises from my lived relationships, from tenderness, memory, fear, faith, longing, disappointment, and love. And my creative life inevitably spills into the life I share with my wife.

The water touched the border between those words, and I tried to repair it. That is not a failure of the picture. It may be one of the most honest parts of it. Life does not remain perfectly inside the lines. The roles I care most about do not remain untouched by mess, vulnerability, or accident. Sometimes the colors run together. Sometimes I try to cover what went wrong. Sometimes a trace remains, visible mostly to me.

Yet I did not throw the picture away. I continued working on it. I allowed the imperfection to become part of the finished whole.

Perhaps that is an image of grace. A life of grace is not a life where nothing ever gets smeared. It is a life in which even the smeared places can be incorporated into the beauty.

Church: Almost Illegible

I also noticed that Church almost looks like “Churgh.” It is there, but it is not the clearest or most immediately readable word. That, too, feels symbolic.

Church is deeply present in my hopes for the coming year. It is part of who I am, part of my calling, part of my relationship with God and with community. But church is not always simple or perfectly clear. It can be difficult to read. It can be beautiful and messy, life-giving and exhausting, sacred and profoundly human all at once.

In this picture, church does not appear by itself in a clean, isolated space. It is crowded into a circling path alongside other words: Love, Friends, Art, perhaps even the movements of creativity and ministry surrounding it. That seems truthful. For me, church is not separate from love, friendship, art, imagination, service, or reconciliation. It is entangled with them.

The fact that the word is only almost clear may express something I feel: church is something I continue to believe in and belong to, while also still trying to see clearly. It is present. It matters. It is part of the year I hope to live. But it is not polished or uncomplicated.

Perhaps that is what makes it real.

The Shape of the Year

The large number itself is not simply filled in. It becomes a winding course. The words curve around turns and corners; some appear upright from one angle and upside down from another. To read the whole image, I almost have to rotate it, follow it, and let my eyes travel through it.

That feels like an honest representation of the year ahead. I do not know exactly how it will unfold. My hopes do not form a straight road or a neatly numbered plan. They form a brightly lit labyrinth. Something that appears upside down from one position may look different once I travel farther along the curve. Something that seems peripheral now may become central. Something disappointing may redirect me toward an unexpected opening.

This drawing does not say, Here is my plan to master the next year.

It says, Here is the glowing path I hope to inhabit.

That is truer to my life. Music feeds ministry. Woodcraft feeds contemplation. Writing feeds faith. PeaceGrooves gathers together my imagination, my longing for peace, my love of play, and my desire to offer something meaningful to others. Marriage and friendship keep my creative life from becoming merely solitary. Church places my personal dreams within a larger body. God is not outside all these things, looking down upon them from a distance, but present among them.

My life is not a ladder climbing toward a single success. It is a winding, illuminated journey through many loves.

The Lights Around the Border

The repeated yellow bulbs around the border give the piece a vintage, celebratory feeling. They make the year look like something being announced: a show beginning, a stage opening, a bright invitation to enter.

There is something almost exuberant about it. I did not draw a quiet little calendar page or a restrained list of intentions. I drew the year as a spectacle of hope. These dreams are not small to me. They are worthy of light. Music, laughter, love, friendship, art, faith, craft, writing, church, PeaceGrooves—these are not hobbies or decorative extras around the edge of life. They are among the things that make life worth living.

And yet the lights are not machine-perfect. They are hand-drawn. Each one is slightly different. Some are rounder, some rougher, some more irregular. That matters too. The brightness of this coming year is not a slick commercial promise that everything will be perfect. It is the brightness I have carefully drawn around my hopes with my own imperfect hand.

Most moving of all, the lights continue around the bends. They do not shine only along the smooth or impressive stretches. They follow the narrow turns, the dips, the places where the shape curls inward. The light does not abandon the complicated places.

What This Picture Says to Me

This is a picture of my hope not merely to survive another year, but to remain fully myself within it.

I want to sing and play.

I want to laugh.

I want to remember.

I want to journey.

I want to love and be loved.

I want to remain a husband, a pastor, an author, an artist, a craftsman, a musician, a friend, and a dreamer.

I want PeaceGrooves not merely to exist as a project, but to become an expression of something deep within me: my longing to imagine, create, and make peace.

I want God not as an abstract religious idea floating somewhere outside my life, but as a living presence woven among music, love, creativity, friendship, church, memory, laughter, and journey.

And perhaps beneath the entire picture is the word I did not write: wholeness.

Wholeness includes health. It includes healing. But it is larger than both. It is the hope that all these different names for myself will not compete with one another, break apart, or fade away, but somehow curve together into a single radiant life.

The smear between Author and Husband, the almost-illegible Church, the reversed words, the crowded pathways, the uneven bulbs, and the wandering design do not lessen the picture. They make it more truthful.

My hopes for the next year are not cleanly arranged or perfectly protected from mistakes. They are handmade. They are entangled. They are vulnerable. They are colorful. They are imperfect.

And they are still shining.

#anabaptist #Art #authorLife #Church #creativeCalling #creativeLife #discernment #Faith #Friendship #God #Grace #handmadeArt #Healing #hopesAndDreams #husband #illuminatedPath #imperfection #Journey #Laughter #Love #memory #mennonite #mixedMedia #Music #pastorLife #PeaceGrooves #personalGrowth #personalReflection #ReflectiveEssay #SpiritualReflection #visualJournal #vocation #wholeness #woodcraft #WordPressTags2027Hopes #Writing

Visual Art Interpretation – My Hopes and Dreams for the Next Year

This feels less like a list of resolutions than a marquee-map of my identity and desire: a radiant, hand-made 2027 filled not so much with tasks to accomplish as with the people, callings, loves, and practices that make my life feel alive.

The bright red border and repeated golden lights give it the appearance of a theater sign, a carnival ride, or an illuminated road. It seems to announce the year joyfully: Here is what I hope will shine. But inside that celebratory outline, the words do not sit neatly in straight lines. They curve, turn, reverse, overlap, and require the eye to travel. That seems important. My hopes are not separate boxes. Pastor, husband, author, musician, PeaceGrooves creator, friend, artist, woodworker, child of God—all of these identities wind through and around one another.

The words I placed inside the year—Sing, Play, Memories, God, Laugh, Journey, Pastor, Author, Husband, PeaceGrooves, Friends, Art, Church, Love, Woodcraft—are striking to me because so many of them are relational or creative. Even the roles are not primarily about achievement. Author is near Husband. Pastor winds along the same road as Journey. PeaceGrooves circles alongside Friends, Church, Love, and creativity. I did not imagine the coming year as productivity alone. I imagined it as belonging, expression, vocation, joy, and connection.

The Word I Did Not Write

After finishing the piece, I realized that I did not write health or healing anywhere inside it. Those things matter deeply to me, especially in light of some of the physical concerns and uncertainties I have been carrying. And yet, perhaps their absence does not mean they were forgotten. Perhaps I instinctively wrote the life I hope healing will allow me to continue inhabiting.

I did not write healing, but I wrote Sing-Play: the hope that my body and spirit can still release themselves into music.

I wrote Laugh: the hope for lightness, delight, and joy.

I wrote Journey: the hope that I can continue moving forward.

I wrote Husband and Friends: the hope of remaining present in love and relationship rather than retreating into worry or isolation.

I wrote Pastor and Church: the hope that I can continue serving meaningfully among people.

I wrote Art, Author, Woodcraft, and PeaceGrooves: the hope that creativity will continue flowing through me rather than being swallowed up by discouragement, exhaustion, or fear.

Perhaps healing is everywhere in this drawing without having been named. It is hidden beneath almost every word: Let me be well enough, free enough, encouraged enough, and alive enough to keep inhabiting these loves.

But perhaps the omission also tells me something tender and difficult about myself. When I think about the future, I often think first about what I can give, create, serve, love, and build. I may not always think first about what I need. This picture invites me to remember that somewhere in the glowing year ahead, there must also be room for my own care. I am not only the husband, pastor, artist, author, musician, friend, and creator. I am also a person who needs healing, rest, gentleness, and grace.

The Smear Between Author and Husband

One of the small accidents in the piece occurred in the space between Author and Husband. Water smeared the color there, and I had to cover it as best I could. I was mostly able to hide the mistake, though I know it happened. I know that beneath the finished surface there is a place where the colors once ran together in a way I did not intend.

That accidental smear now feels strangely meaningful. Author and Husband are two of my most intimate identities: the part of me that creates worlds and gives language to inner experience, and the part of me that shares an actual life in love and covenant with another person. Perhaps those two identities were never meant to be sharply separated. My writing rises from my lived relationships, from tenderness, memory, fear, faith, longing, disappointment, and love. And my creative life inevitably spills into the life I share with my wife.

The water touched the border between those words, and I tried to repair it. That is not a failure of the picture. It may be one of the most honest parts of it. Life does not remain perfectly inside the lines. The roles I care most about do not remain untouched by mess, vulnerability, or accident. Sometimes the colors run together. Sometimes I try to cover what went wrong. Sometimes a trace remains, visible mostly to me.

Yet I did not throw the picture away. I continued working on it. I allowed the imperfection to become part of the finished whole.

Perhaps that is an image of grace. A life of grace is not a life where nothing ever gets smeared. It is a life in which even the smeared places can be incorporated into the beauty.

Church: Almost Illegible

I also noticed that Church almost looks like “Churgh.” It is there, but it is not the clearest or most immediately readable word. That, too, feels symbolic.

Church is deeply present in my hopes for the coming year. It is part of who I am, part of my calling, part of my relationship with God and with community. But church is not always simple or perfectly clear. It can be difficult to read. It can be beautiful and messy, life-giving and exhausting, sacred and profoundly human all at once.

In this picture, church does not appear by itself in a clean, isolated space. It is crowded into a circling path alongside other words: Love, Friends, Art, perhaps even the movements of creativity and ministry surrounding it. That seems truthful. For me, church is not separate from love, friendship, art, imagination, service, or reconciliation. It is entangled with them.

The fact that the word is only almost clear may express something I feel: church is something I continue to believe in and belong to, while also still trying to see clearly. It is present. It matters. It is part of the year I hope to live. But it is not polished or uncomplicated.

Perhaps that is what makes it real.

The Shape of the Year

The large number itself is not simply filled in. It becomes a winding course. The words curve around turns and corners; some appear upright from one angle and upside down from another. To read the whole image, I almost have to rotate it, follow it, and let my eyes travel through it.

That feels like an honest representation of the year ahead. I do not know exactly how it will unfold. My hopes do not form a straight road or a neatly numbered plan. They form a brightly lit labyrinth. Something that appears upside down from one position may look different once I travel farther along the curve. Something that seems peripheral now may become central. Something disappointing may redirect me toward an unexpected opening.

This drawing does not say, Here is my plan to master the next year.

It says, Here is the glowing path I hope to inhabit.

That is truer to my life. Music feeds ministry. Woodcraft feeds contemplation. Writing feeds faith. PeaceGrooves gathers together my imagination, my longing for peace, my love of play, and my desire to offer something meaningful to others. Marriage and friendship keep my creative life from becoming merely solitary. Church places my personal dreams within a larger body. God is not outside all these things, looking down upon them from a distance, but present among them.

My life is not a ladder climbing toward a single success. It is a winding, illuminated journey through many loves.

The Lights Around the Border

The repeated yellow bulbs around the border give the piece a vintage, celebratory feeling. They make the year look like something being announced: a show beginning, a stage opening, a bright invitation to enter.

There is something almost exuberant about it. I did not draw a quiet little calendar page or a restrained list of intentions. I drew the year as a spectacle of hope. These dreams are not small to me. They are worthy of light. Music, laughter, love, friendship, art, faith, craft, writing, church, PeaceGrooves—these are not hobbies or decorative extras around the edge of life. They are among the things that make life worth living.

And yet the lights are not machine-perfect. They are hand-drawn. Each one is slightly different. Some are rounder, some rougher, some more irregular. That matters too. The brightness of this coming year is not a slick commercial promise that everything will be perfect. It is the brightness I have carefully drawn around my hopes with my own imperfect hand.

Most moving of all, the lights continue around the bends. They do not shine only along the smooth or impressive stretches. They follow the narrow turns, the dips, the places where the shape curls inward. The light does not abandon the complicated places.

What This Picture Says to Me

This is a picture of my hope not merely to survive another year, but to remain fully myself within it.

I want to sing and play.

I want to laugh.

I want to remember.

I want to journey.

I want to love and be loved.

I want to remain a husband, a pastor, an author, an artist, a craftsman, a musician, a friend, and a dreamer.

I want PeaceGrooves not merely to exist as a project, but to become an expression of something deep within me: my longing to imagine, create, and make peace.

I want God not as an abstract religious idea floating somewhere outside my life, but as a living presence woven among music, love, creativity, friendship, church, memory, laughter, and journey.

And perhaps beneath the entire picture is the word I did not write: wholeness.

Wholeness includes health. It includes healing. But it is larger than both. It is the hope that all these different names for myself will not compete with one another, break apart, or fade away, but somehow curve together into a single radiant life.

The smear between Author and Husband, the almost-illegible Church, the reversed words, the crowded pathways, the uneven bulbs, and the wandering design do not lessen the picture. They make it more truthful.

My hopes for the next year are not cleanly arranged or perfectly protected from mistakes. They are handmade. They are entangled. They are vulnerable. They are colorful. They are imperfect.

And they are still shining.

#anabaptist #Art #authorLife #Church #creativeCalling #creativeLife #discernment #Faith #Friendship #God #Grace #handmadeArt #Healing #hopesAndDreams #husband #illuminatedPath #imperfection #Journey #Laughter #Love #memory #mennonite #mixedMedia #Music #pastorLife #PeaceGrooves #personalGrowth #personalReflection #ReflectiveEssay #SpiritualReflection #visualJournal #vocation #wholeness #woodcraft #WordPressTags2027Hopes #Writing

The First Green Thorn

I returned
expecting only stone.

The same arch.
The same hollow.
The same bouquet
browned at the edges
like a prayer
left too long
in the weather.

I had learned
the discipline of kneeling.

I had learned
how to make peace
with the wrong place.

There is a strange holiness
in returning
to what cannot answer.

There is a strange faith
in speaking
to silence
until silence becomes
less empty.

But this morning,
at the foot of the cenotaph,
where the rain had gathered
in the crack
between two stones,

something had risen.

Not a flower.

Not yet.

Only a thorned green stem,
small enough
to be missed
by anyone
who came looking
for a miracle.

It leaned toward the light
with the awkward courage
of a thing
that had not been told
it was impossible.

I almost wept
from fear.

Grief I knew.
Absence I knew.
The old wound
had become a room
I could enter
without striking a match.

But life—
life arriving
without permission,
life answering
when I had stopped
asking,
life wearing thorns
before blossoms—

this was a more terrible mercy.

For if something grows here,
then I must change.

If the stone has cracked,
then I cannot spend forever
calling it final.

If roots have found me,
if green has entered
the vocabulary of my mourning,
then perhaps I have been wrong
about the dead.

Perhaps not all that is buried
is finished.

Perhaps not all that is empty
is abandoned.

Perhaps the former self
does not return
as the boy who believed,
but as the wound
that has learned
to shelter a seed.

I touched the stem
and blood rose
from my finger.

So this, too,
is resurrection:

not the absence of pain,
but pain made porous
to light.

Not the grave undone
all at once,
but a thorn
breaking through stone,

a small green alphabet
beginning again

where the epitaph
ran out of words.

The Cenotaph Triad

The Cenotaph

The Roots Beneath the Stone

The First Green Thorn

#Cenotaph #DarkArt #DarkPoetry #EmptyMonument #faithAndDoubt #FormerSelves #gothicIllustration #gothicPoetry #GreenStem #grief #Healing #hiddenLife #HopeInDarkness #innerLandscape #LifeAfterLoss #Melancholy #memory #Mercy #Mourning #poeticReflection #renewal #resurrectionImagery #roots #SpiritualReflection #StoneAndSeed #symbolicArt #TheFirstGreenThorn #Thorn

The Root Beneath the Stone

I thought the stone was final.

I thought the name carved there
was the last word
the earth would allow.

I thought absence
had a kind of authority,
as if an empty place
could speak with the voice of God
and say,
No farther.

But last night,
beneath the monument,
something moved.

Not the dead.
Not the lost.
Not the boy exactly,
nor the song,
nor the face before sorrow
taught it its new expression.

Something thinner than memory,
but stronger than grief.

A root.

Pale as a finger
beneath the dark soil,
blindly seeking
what the heart had forgotten
how to want.

It did not knock.
It did not rise
with trumpets or thunder.
It did not roll the stone away.

It only pressed
against the underside
of what I had mistaken
for an ending.

All these years
I had been kneeling
before emptiness,
bringing flowers
to a place
that could not receive them.

But perhaps the flowers knew
what I did not.

Perhaps their stems,
cut and dying,
were still fluent
in the old language of return.

Perhaps every grief
I laid down there
became compost.

Perhaps every tear
sank farther
than my prayers.

Perhaps the thing I mourned
was not buried elsewhere
after all,
but traveling underground,
passing through houses
that no longer stand,
fields grown over
with strange weeds,
the silence after a voice
has vanished.

I wanted resurrection
to arrive upright,
whole,
recognizable.

I wanted the former self
to come walking back
wearing the same face,
carrying the same bright belief,
singing the song
exactly as it was
before the world interrupted.

But roots do not return
as branches.

Seeds do not rise
as seeds.

What comes back
comes changed,
darkened by earth,
fed by what has fallen,
tender where it once was proud.

So I will come again
to the cenotaph.

I will bring flowers.

I will kneel.

But I will listen now
not for the dead
inside the stone,
not for the old name
to answer me,

but for the small green pressure
beneath everything,

the mercy
working in secret,

the hidden life
that does not ask
whether the grave was marked correctly,

only whether there is still
somewhere in me

a little soil

left open.

The Cenotaph Triad

The Cenotaph

The Roots Beneath the Stone

The First Green Thorn

#absence #Cenotaph #CreativeWriting #DarkArt #DarkPoetry #EmptyTomb #ExistentialPoetry #faithAndDoubt #FormerSelves #gothicIllustration #gothicPoetry #grief #HauntingBeauty #Healing #innerLandscape #LostJoy #Melancholy #memory #Mercy #Mourning #poeticReflection #resurrectionImagery #roots #SpiritualReflection #symbolicArt #TheRootBeneathTheStone

Head and Feet Blues (SONG)

One of my favorites when Jeremiahs Run was still performing live.

Head & Feet Blues (Live) | Various Artists | The Belly Hymns Project https://kmls.bandcamp.com/track/head-feet-blues-live

Lyrics

This is a story about a man who split himself in two.
One part stayed the same the other just grew and grew.
One part stayed in one place, the other up and joined the ratrace.
He had his head in one place and his feet in another.

Head in one place feet in another. You got your head in one place, your feet in another. Your heart’s disconnected one way or the other. Head in one place feet in another.

The part that never changed was always true,
it was always old and the growing part was always new.
While one part was dying from entropy the other part was dying from too much speed,
Head in one place feet in another.

Head in one place feet in another. You got your head in one place, your feet in another. Your heart’s disconnected one way or the other. Head in one place feet in another.

I heard a story about a man who split himself in two.
One part stayed the same, the other just grew and grew.
I got to wondering when the story was through which part was me and which part was you.
Head in one place feet in another

Head in one place feet in another. You got your head in one place, your feet in another. Your heart’s disconnected one way or the other. Head in one place feet in another.

Song written October 27, 1998

#1998 #1998Song #Aging #albumCoverArt #alienation #alternativeMusic #artRock #disconnectedHeart #dividedSelf #entropy #existentialSong #growingUp #HeadInOnePlaceFeetInAnother #Identity #indieMusic #innerDivision #lyricalReflection #modernLife #Music #musicArtwork #oldSelfNewSelf #originalSong #PeaceGrooves #poeticLyrics #ratRace #reflectiveMusic #songCover #SongLyrics #Songwriting #speedAndStillness #SpiritualReflection #splitSelf #TheBellyHymnsProject

Head and Feet Blues (SONG)

One of my favorites when Jeremiahs Run was still performing live.

This is a story about a man who split himself in two.
One part stayed the same the other just grew and grew.
One part stayed in one place, the other up and joined the ratrace.
He had his head in one place and his feet in another.

Head in one place feet in another. You got your head in one place, your feet in another. Your heart’s disconnected one way or the other. Head in one place feet in another.

The part that never changed was always true,
it was always old and the growing part was always new.
While one part was dying from entropy the other part was dying from too much speed,
Head in one place feet in another.

Head in one place feet in another. You got your head in one place, your feet in another. Your heart’s disconnected one way or the other. Head in one place feet in another.

I heard a story about a man who split himself in two.
One part stayed the same, the other just grew and grew.
I got to wondering when the story was through which part was me and which part was you.
Head in one place feet in another

Head in one place feet in another. You got your head in one place, your feet in another. Your heart’s disconnected one way or the other. Head in one place feet in another.

Song written October 27, 1998

#1998 #1998Song #Aging #albumCoverArt #alienation #alternativeMusic #artRock #disconnectedHeart #dividedSelf #entropy #existentialSong #growingUp #HeadInOnePlaceFeetInAnother #Identity #indieMusic #innerDivision #lyricalReflection #modernLife #Music #musicArtwork #oldSelfNewSelf #originalSong #PeaceGrooves #poeticLyrics #ratRace #reflectiveMusic #songCover #SongLyrics #Songwriting #speedAndStillness #SpiritualReflection #splitSelf #TheBellyHymnsProject