As a follower of Jesus there may be no bigger truth than the one stated above – IF – the rest of verse is true.
You like to think that you have yours and I have mine.
What’s right for you is not for me.
There’s no absolute, only shade from a different tree.
Sometimes we bend, others omit, You say there’s degrees;
but the reality is, you just refuse to see.
No ebb no flow, no shifting light. The final pronouncement
ends the night.
Your guilt shouted down, hidden by volume, pride defends the lies you swallow.
Your hate misdirected, aimed at the sky; unjustified rage, mental incarceration.
You’re being tortured by your own head.
It’s all just a lie. One that you believe.
The Truth is a gift – you just have to receive.
I wonder sometimes why exactly it is that I write. Why do I spend countless hours in front of the computer stringing words together?
Why do I sit up for hours after my family has gone to bed or rise hours before they wake to get thoughts and ideas down on paper – or more recently – into some digital format?
I often wonder how many times a day God looks down on me and shakes his head in haughty derision. – Probably, none or a million, but definitely one of the two.
I also wonder, at those times when he sees that I “get it” does he start jumping up and down like a father that just watched his son score a touchdown to win the game, only to be befuddled as to why I do not use my new found knowledge or as I am told Lombardi said, “…act like you’ve been there before”?
I am not going to lie, I am nervous about attempting another Nanowrimo. For all the reasons I am nervous about being or even, – calling myself a writer; I don’t feel qualified. Who am I to say that about myself? How dare I elevate myself to such a lofty place? Writer? You? “Get outa here kid, you go no future.”
Well, I’M BACK!!!!
Hmmm, that was anticlimactic.
If you’re reading this, and you must be, then you’re clearly in the right place.
When I was at Parris Island becoming a Marine, any time our Drill Instructors wanted our undivided attention they yelled.
Well – they must have wanted our attention a lot – because they yelled…
I know it is has been a LONG time since I posted something – especially something of substance and today’s post is NO different.
Whew! It has been a long time! I have had an odd couple of months.
I did my first open mic – in nearly 6 years – back in August at Side Splitters in Tampa. It’s a great club, close to home and they offer a lot of opportunities to new comics to get on a stage and work out their material.
It’s funny how something that happened more than six years ago can be mentioned and bring to mind a flood of raw emotion that I really thought I had dealt with. Turns out I did nothing more than bury the feelings so deep because I was not equipped to deal with them then.
I am not 100% sure I am right now, either.
The anger, frustration and sadness, I felt in 2007 was at times overwhelming. The complete futility I felt at the news of my cousin’s death was only compounded a couple months later when I learned of the death of a high school friend.