the longing goes on

When I struggle through anything emotional, I flail like a fish out of water. I splash people around me, they back up to avoid getting wet, and I end up flailing by myself. Alone. I've been suffering through a craving for deeper, more meaningful relationships with my friends around me. Playing and laughing doesn't cut it for me anymore. I'm afraid of being left behind. Left alone.

Cameron Conant put it well: Things change, especially when you're single. It's as if the social networks upon which you stand are constantly shifting, like plates under a giant fault line.

I don't know if there is a solution. I don't know what I want.

I'm just glad I have a rock underneath the fault lines.



As children and teenagers, my sister and I had an infamously tumultuous relationship. We shared a room and a sibling rivalry that could have been featured on a Rikki Lake episode in the mid-nineties. Even into her college years, we mastered the art of mind bullets and word spears. It was brutal.

Somewhere in the middle of my college years, things changed. We realized we weren't all that different from one another. We didn't have to share a bathroom sink anymore. We quit fighting about accidentally buying the same clothes. We started enjoying each other's company.

My sister moved back to Missouri about nine months ago to work for my parents. Despite some of the negatives of living and working for our parents, there have been some huge positives. I see her all of the time. I talk to her all of the time. We share things with each other (like recipes and music), but mainly more than anything else, we share our lives with each other.

Finally, as an adult, I am enjoying having a sister. She's a friend that will always be. No matter where I live, what I do, who I marry, what I wear, she's my sister. The brutal fighting has been exchanged for brutal laughing fits and a banter that is only possible with someone who walked down Sesame Street with you every morning when you were three.

Lately, I've been enjoying it so much it has caused me to wonder what it would be like if my brother were still here.


a resolution to enjoy

Lately life has fallen shy of the enjoyable zone, landing anywhere from the miserable to the lukewarm. It isn't because I am depressed or pessimistic. It is because at times life is dreary. With the exception of a week in paradise, February was dreary. It was filled with reminders of sin's consequence in my life. February seems to be my month of pain. Aside from the mournful, sloppy brown look of my surroundings, some of my most painful wrenching experiences have landed in February. This February was no different.

But February has passed. The prolonged days have led me to resolution. A resolution not easily proclaimed. It seems a bit too early, based in the resurrection not yet celebrated, not yet realized. But comes it from within, and stop it I cannot.

The desire to breathe again is overwhelming. Breathe air not recycled and reheated and rebreathed.

The desire to run without wear is nagging. To see it the sunlight bent in my eyelashes, shining quietly the full spectrum of its glory.

The desire to sing without hesitation is compelling. The meaning of the words are filled with a deeper sense that there is more beyond what my eyes can see.

The desires culminate into a resolution that now I must live.

Grace surrounds and opportunity abounds.



in poverty and meaness

defiled, without, within
from infection and uncleaness
from the leprosy of sin,

your robes and make them white
Ye shall walk with God in light.

in sorrow and contrition
wounded, impotent, and blind

the guilty


the troubled

may find

this fountain will restore
they that drink
shall thirst
no more

James Montgomery
Come to Calvary's Holy Mountain


a distant memory

The morning came and we were still awake. The four of us, in love. In love with life, with each other, with dreams of faithfulness. Our conversation deadened; our hunger increased. Pancakes filled with stolen chocolate chips smashed the surreality. And the responsibilities of the day creeped into our conscience.

Lives diverged, rejoined, diverged. One, seemingly a mere character in lecherous hurtful gossip. Another, living life as she always did--spontaneously. The other, gone from this place to join the One who made him worthy. And me, sitting here, pondering the morning of pancakes filled with stolen chocolate chips.