“This just isn’t going to cut it tonight!” With all the strength her feeble arms could muster, Joy hoisted her scrawny frame off the cardboard box which had doubled as a bed for the last nine months. The makeshift mattress was not particularly comfortable; it initially served her well during the early spring months when cool nights collide with warm sunrises dampening the soft grassy areas generally ideal for those who share Joy’s humble position. Though farm animals, dogs, and beggars alike battle with morning dew, the latter group faces the unique plight of needing dry clothes throughout the night and into the next day, thus cardboard boxes are a commodity among Joy’s community.
Well after the spring dew ceased troubling Joy, the box remained faithfully in her possession as an item of internal comfort. Much like a baby incessantly sucks his thumb ignoring its best uses – by means of ignorance rather than rebellion – Joy instinctively disregarded the intended use of the broken down box and instead discovered practical applications for her every day life. As the seasons cycled, it provided shade from scorching sun, privacy from her displaced neighbors, and once again protected herself from the dew during the late fall months. Nevertheless, tonight her provisional security blanket provided little protection from the dark and frigid November air.
“Maybe the shelter’s open… probly no beds, though. Good people… too crowded for my comforts.” Mumbling became an every-waking-moment type of activity as Joy subconsciously held to the ever-fading truth that she does indeed belong to the class of animal separated from all others by its ability to reason, love, and speak. Yet she rarely felt human anymore; love and reason existed only in the whispers of her ever-dimming mind. Though she had lived on these same streets for the past nine months, her interactions with other homeless remained limited to her occasional visits to the local food pantry or when an over aggressive male –spurred by excessive alcohol and bitter memories of failed marriages and shoddy business endeavors – felt the need to exert dominion over his small piece of territory that Joy happened to wander through… … …
Back in June I wrote a Haiku Poem on StuffChristiansLike, birthed out of mostly true stories which occurred over the years playing on a worship team. For some reason it keeps getting some pub, so half of this is an attempt to say ‘hey, look I’m featured on a really popular site’ and the other half is to give props to SCL, a pretty good SWPL rip off that I read daily. Here’s the Haiku, you decide which parts are true:
We Make A Great Team
“Did you turn it up?”
I lie and say “I did not”
we make a great team
“This song should not rock”
“Well, I rock it anyway”
we make a great team
“Your guitar seems loud”
“I haven’t even played yet”
I just lied again
“Sometimes less is more”
Sometimes I flip you the bird
When you turn your back.
“Did you flip me off?”
“no”… why do i lie so much?
We make a great team.
i hate all your show and pretense
the hypocrisy of your praise
the hypocrisy of your festivals
I hate all your show
away with your noisy worship
away with your noisy hymns
i stop up my ears when you’re singin’ em
i hate all your show
instead let there be a flood of justice
an endless procession of righteous living, living
instead let there be a flood of justice
instead of the show
your eyes are closed when you’re praying
you sing right along with the band
you shine up your shoes for services
there’s blood on your hands
you turned your back on the homeless
and the ones that don’t fit in your plan
quit playing religion games
there’s blood on your hands
instead let there be a flood of justice
an endless procession of righteous living, living
instead let there be a flood of justice
instead of the show
I hate all your show
lets argue this out
if your sins are blood red
lets argue this out
you’ll be white as the clouds
lets argue this out quit fooling around give love to the ones who can’t love at all
give hope to the ones who got no hope at all
stand up for the ones who can’t stand at all
I hate all your show
- Jon Foreman, “Instead of the Show” on Summer, http://jonforeman.com/ lyrics reprinted without permission… but they weren’t anywhere else online, so i typed them out by hand… i’ll gladly take them down if Mr. Foreman requests.
Should we be offended? or challenged?… hurt? or ignited? … is Jon judgmental? or justified? …
English Comp II is officially over as my final paper’s grade was just posted. The class was highlighted by two papers really. The final paper was about contemporary poets using technology to bring more exposure to the art. I’m not even that serious of a poet anymore, but it was still a fun paper to write… cause i’m a dork i guess.
The other paper that I enjoyed much more than I expected was our analysis of the Greek drama “Oedipus the King.” I am not a fan of reading plays, especially ancient ones. Seriously, why must we read the ancient’s in old english… it was written in Greek in the first place, can’t we just translate it to modern english instead of using the old english translations?? Anyway, I digress… so the discussion came up about Greek culture and if the early church had a tough task ahead of them when evangelizing such a polytheistic people. The overwhelming response was ”yes” but I disagreed… mostly because I like disagreeing.
So birthed from that I used “Oedipus the King” to show that the Greeks were actually ripe for conversion, or at the very least had a foundation of spirituality that Paul could pull from while learning to be all things to all people in order to share Christ. Granted the Oedipus series was written 400 years before Paul, but history and the account of the Greeks in Acts shows that not too much had changed as far as their religious views were concerned. Fast forward 2000 some odd years later and Greece is around 98% Christian… perhaps Paul laid a nice foundation…
perhaps one day I’ll post the essay. It was limited to 1200 words so I actually only got through about 1/3 of the play before wrapping it up hastily…
Tonight is How To Study the Bible. 3 Thursday nights left in this one (Dec. 13th). By far this has been my favorite class this semester. It helps that it’s biblical in nature and not just a core/generic class, but beyond this reason I’m thoroughly enjoying it because it is changing how I read and study the word more than I thought it would. I was familiar with most of the concepts and methods before the class started, but I had difficulty putting it into practice. This particular text book is greatness if you want to refresh, rethink, or re-envision the method you use for studying God’s word.
p.s. - winter break will bring new songs (which will just bore you and prove further that my wife is my biggest fan only because she loves me).
p.p.s - Rick was so kind to get me Divine Nobodies. He answered the call to action. And he is so pimpin’. None of you other people are… jerks.
Drifting further than before
I still can feel the burden of Your touch
The pain of leaving you for “better” things
Opens wounds so long ago closed
I know You are there, waiting for me
Hoping for me, praying for me
As You did so many years ago.
I spit in the face of Your angels
Despite the comfort of their wings
Yet they linger there,
Fighting off what you command.
The further I drift, the more You allow.
Not to punish me, but to teach me.
My hardened heart burdens Yours,
But You love me enough to let me choose.
The choice seems rather simple
But bitterness blinds…
emptiness ensues.
I still can feel you here…
Calling me, begging me.
You don’t need me, but You want me.
You want to hold me again
And tell me everything will be alright.
You want to guide me again
And lead me to Your open arms.
And now that I’ve gone this far
I see the error of my ways
So I’m running back to You
And I know You will welcome me
I still have to answer for what I’ve done
You’ll love me anyway.
I’ll have to start from where I left You
But You’ll be patient with me.
You are my Father, my Friend,
My Saviour, Lord, and Confidence.
May I never leave you again.
Half of you guys are worship leaders… and most of what I’ve heard from you is better than any thing i’ve done… but … i did it anyway. Pretty much for friends and family…
They’re not done with a great recording quality… i could get all techie on why, but basically I dont have the greatest interface / hardware. It gets the job done. I’ve got a handful more to come, a few of which are better than anything that is currently up. Click on “lyrics” on the player to read short snippets concerning the particular song.
p.s. - if you’ve got a Virb, befriend me.
p.p.s. - I like virb, but sometimes the stuff doesn’t load well. Just hold Shift and click refresh. That forces it to reload all the code and not use your cache… that seems to help… or click the “open player in new window” link.. that sometimes helps too… or just get annoyed with me and say “I DONT HAVE TIME FOR THIS YOU IMBECLE!” and throw things at me.
In doing research for my Comp II thesis I came across who has become one of my new favorite poets, Taylor Mali. This particular poem has made its rounds in spam mail, altered and such (he has the story about it on his site), but here is the original poem, by the original artist… (PG-13 rating for “ass-kicking” and giving the finger along with one “G-D”…. but, seriously, in context… its justified)
For the record, he’s easier to look at with short hair… not that I really care what guys look like… you know, i’m not going to dig this hole any deeper.
One of my favorite poems i’ve ever written… (this is the second one i posted on here and so far neither one is very positive… at lest this one has a happy ending). Written June of 2003
Staring into nothingness with anguish on my mind
Embrace anti-productiveness wasting all my time
Fight me once again to impose your will on me
But I’d rather take my chances with feigned reality
Everything is simple for everybody else
Sell me some more pity; I’ll gladly share the wealth.
This cynical remorse is getting old and worn
Searching for a rose deep amongst the piercing thorns
The nightmare’s nearly over, at least that’s what they say
But I’ll hang on to all my doubt and feed it by the day
I’ll beat my inner confidence with thoughts of tyranny
Forsake the very consciousness of all I used to be
I never wanted it to come to this, but alas the time is near
I’ll fight it till the very end but the winter’s almost here
I’ll persevere with all my might in hopes to make it through
But the valley’s getting hotter, and the temper’s rising too
So I’m reaching out with all I am in hopes of finding You
But I’m so far down this rotten path I’m blinded to the Truth
So pick me up, and dust me off, and carry me away
Salvage every piece of me let nothing go astray
Hold me in Your hands again, despite my selfishness
And I’ll try to show the worth again of my faithfulness
I was reading through some of my old poetry and found this gem. It’s not pretty. It’s not encouraging. And it’s not about me specifically. Ref: Proverbs 26:11 if you want an idea of what it’s talking about.
My lonely heart is crying out
Hanging on to shallow doubts
Tortured thoughts of what could’ve been
I’ll gladly take you back again.
And I’ll ignore the consequence
Of my moral decadence
I’ll disregard my foolish plight
To be with you for one more night
Kiss my lips and hold me close
I’ll kiss the cheek of Sharon’s Rose
And despite my spirit’s full disdain
I’ll gladly take you back again.
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… to your children, and let them read some as well (assuming they can); it’s good for both of you. From tonight’s reading:
