Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from September, 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 ...

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...

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 promis...

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

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...

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... depress...

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 th...

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.