September 30, 2003

maybe its her eyes

maybe its her eyes, so warm, so blue.
maybe not at all,
I don't know, but I love her.

maybe its her face, beautiful, but stern.
maybe its not that,
I'm not sure, but I love her.

maybe its her ears, attentive, and careful.
could be something else,
I can't say, but I love her.

maybe its her lips. forming kisses and instructions.
not sure if this is it,
it could be, why I love her.

maybe its her laughter, rich and full, ever contagious
though I strive to hear it,
even sorrow, helps me love her.

maybe its her hands, gentle and helpful
working until weary,
even lazy, I always love her.

could it be her wit? so quick, so sharp
I'd hate to do without it,
but without it, I'd still love her.

maybe its her body, I can't deny it, I sure like it.
it only got me started,
toward the reasons, why I love her.

maybe shes so smart, she'd never say it, but its true.
I couldn't know so much,
but I know, I still love her.

maybe its her love, steadfast... though shaken
though I couldn't bear to lose it,
its not the reason, why I love her.

maybe its the person, the full package, all the contents.
though I never really know for sure,
all the reasons, all the answers,
its all I want to do,
to shout it, to scream it,
to tell her, I love her.

September 28, 2003

our world

we live in a real world,
a world that wants to tear us apart,
a world of hate,
sin, and deception.
our world.

we exist in this phase of reality,
and no matter what people say or want
or believe, here we are.
in our world
some people get hurt
and some people die;
some people strive for things
their whole life...
and never get them,
our world.

in our world
many people will give 110% ...
and lose; a quarter back
might throw his last great pass of his career,
and watch it be intercepted,
the sun will go up
and the sun will go down
and justice will never be seen
by some; while others may never
see their rescuer arrive or
experience the hero
of the story riding in to
save the day.
our world.

in our world
many people live very lonely lives.
some people never get
that second chance to make things right.
while others may live and never know love
or true friendship
our world, our home.

this is our world,
this is where we live
and this is what we face
there is no getting around it.
our world, our destiny?

but why?
why does it have to be
this way? why are things hard?
why must i face it?
why... why... why...
our world, why?

the why has been answered
in times long past. our world
was not intended to be this way,
and it never should have been...
but it is, why?
why, is not the question.
why, is just a complaint,
it is a child's cry, a baby's whimper,
a lame excuse.
because the why has been answered.
we are the reason why.
we are the cause of the hurt
and the pain and the hardship
and the loneliness. we are the cause
we are the reason why
our world, is us!

ahh, yes... but don't give in,
don't fall into despair or sorrow
for there is hope...
there is escape from this world
there is escape from this vapor,
this passing mist. but those trapped
in this world won't see it
they refuse to accept this world
for what it really is.
is it reality? is it for sure?
is this the scope of our existence?
is there a chance for us?
a chance to exist the way it should have been?
yes...
in our world

O what a hope we have
for our great creator has offered us
an escape from ourselves.
to die to what we were,
and to become
what we should have been,
to be made alive and right and
what we should have been to begin with
and even though we live in
a harsh reality, there is something
more real, more solid, more lasting.
where the lonely have a friend,
where the heartsick
are delved into an overwhelming love,
where there is someone
always paying attention
and is outraged at their losses
where the hurt and bleeding
have hope and comfort and healing,
where they can exist in another world
while walking around here
in ours
our world, not our home

September 25, 2003

a song for son 1 and son 2

O my son,
You were born in a world that hates you,
And I swear I will never forsake you,
But there was a Father centuries ago
Who watched His beloved Son die.

O my son,
I am weak and I'm trembling,
For the Lord I am always remembering.
O what a strong shepherd holds you in His arms!
He'll break you and make you His own,
and then take you home.

Well, if I could I would protect you
from what you will see.
This world may promise love and beauty
but it lied to me.
And I will show you,
if you will listen,
And I will promise
to listen, too.

Yes, there are some who love the lies.
They will kill you if they can,
Though you speak the truth in love.
They will hate you like The Man -- Jesus.
Although He was God,
He allowed Himself broken for you.

And, if I could I would protect you
from what you will see.
This world just might seem so alive
but it's dead to me.
And I will teach you,
if you will hear me,
And I will promise
to hear you, too.

O my son,
I am only your brother.
For a sister, God gave me you mother.
But just like the mother so long ago
Had to watch her beloved Son die,
O son, we will try to let you go.

(---Keith Green)

September 22, 2003

a quote

a quote
"Love is not primarily a feeling, Love is a conscious choice to seek to meet the needs of others..."
- Steve Viars

September 20, 2003

the boys

the boys
7:00 am - woke up to the noise of the boys

7:45 am - the boys finished off the package of extra large honey buns which I purchased for myself

8:30 am - left with the boys to go to Wal-Mart to get an oil change on the van

9:45 am - have looked at shoes, clothes, toys, tools, garden supplies, and a few other things... the van is almost done

10:00 am - on our way to Columbian Park, after finding out that the oil could not get changed on the van because they have a policy that says that they cannot change the oil if there is a rubber temporary plug in the oil pan... oh well

11:45 am - played at the park and looked at the animals; on our way to McDonald's for some burgers, fries, drinks, and the playpark

1:00 pm - leaving McDonald's to go home

altogether a good day... I love those boys

September 19, 2003

my friend

Last night as I was on my way to bed, I stopped by my son's room. I went inside and saw that he was still awake (as usual) so I crawled into bed beside him.

All evening he had been asking me to play with him... I never did. I had been "too tired" or "too busy" or "talking to mommy" or lame excuse, lame excuse, lame excuse...

After I crawled into bed with him, he snuggled up to me. I whispered in his ear, "I am so sorry that I didn't play with you tonight." I was getting ready to say some more, but before I could, he reached over and put his hand on my face, and said, "That's ok daddy, I forgive you."

We talked for a little while longer, and then I went to bed. It was a sweet moment that I won't forget for a long time.

Even though I don't think of him this way very often, he is not only my son, he is also one of my truest friends.

I usually don't use absolute words, but let me tell you a couple of "always" things about Sam...

He ALWAYS wants to be with me.
He is ALWAYS happy to see me.
He is ALWAYS sad when I have to leave.
He is ALWAYS sorry when he has been wrong.
He ALWAYS forgives me when I have been wrong.
He will now and ALWAYS love me no matter what.

I will ALWAYS love "Son #1". He is one of my truest friends.

grace

"Those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs."

- Jonah (from inside the belly)

September 16, 2003

I love...

I love...
green VW beetles
passing notes in class
driving around until 2:00 in the morning
staying up really, really late watching movies
and hanging out with friends
... because I love you.

I love...
long distance relationships
driving far to watch a late movie
giving instructions on driving a stick
writing extra long love letters
and paying huge phone bills
... because I love you.

I love...
sleeping two hours a day
working all hours of the night
trips to Chicago
a band called Worm
and learning about Keith & Rich
... because I love you.

I love...
working third shift
taking care of a whining puppy
stopping by the office with snacks & root beer
sleeping 4 hours a night
and eating mexican food for breakfast
... because I love you.

I love...
five and a half hour drives
going to school & skipping chapel
meeting new friends
sleeping 5 hours a night
changing diapers
watching movies whenever there's time
being poked with a needle
crying, laughing, praying
exhaustion... depression... completion...
and moving on
... because I love you

I love...
mini vans
getting up early
rock ballads & Chicago's greatest hits
putting the soap in the soap dish
working long and hard
baby sitters
staying up kinda late watching movies
empty wallets, beat up cars
and growing
... because I love you.

I love...
the empty nest
the passing years
a few gray hairs
a few extra pounds
and watching movies early in the evening
... because I love you.

I love...

... because I love you.

September 15, 2003

Don't it figure....

"As punishment for my contempt for authority, Fate has made me an authority myself."
--Albert Einstein

September 14, 2003

those of the type artistic

The artistic types are very
very interesting, they always seem
to have that most interesting
thing to say, and they seem

to be able to word things in a way
that is most fitting
to any situation,
and when they have fully expressed
themselves you sit back

and admire their thinking.
The only problem is
that when you truly begin
to ponder, the pondering begins
to reveal that in reality
their depth is absolutely
full of shallow.

The artistic types have fooled us all.
For the most part they know nothing
of reality. Theirs is one
that could never exist
and should never exist.
Where true love is rare
and spirituality a gift.

The artistic types have fooled us all.
The real is composed of dirt and sweat,
blood, difficulty and grossness,
choices, boredom,
and beauty.

In the real,
true love and spirituality
are a choice away
there they are
just sitting there waiting
to have coffee with you
and wondering when
you will stop hitting
the snooze button.

the real is me
the real is you
the real is God
the real is tears
and years of joy
the real is a vanilla coke
after Sunday night church.

Those of the type artistic have fooled us all.

I think that the artistic type has fooled me for the last time.

September 12, 2003

A Moment...

Have you ever had a moment of clarity?

You know, one of those fleeting moments when all of the vain/empty things of life seem to fade away. That one sweet moment when all of the important things of life come into perfect focus. When absolute truth reigns in your mind and you have a true vision of reality.

You relish in it and have that dreamers hope that that moment will stay.

I wish I could have one of those. They sound nice.

September 11, 2003

jr. high boys p.e.

i teach jr. high boys p.e.
and one of my favorite sites to see
is when they run
oh boy, its fun
to teach jr. high boys p.e.
- me

September 10, 2003

What do you love?

I love what I do, because I choose to love it.

Why do you love the things that you love? Why do you think the things that you think?

Have you ever even asked yourself these questions?

Just a thought...