The Contumacious Heart of rolland scheinkenburg

2009-10-03T18:18:00.000-04:00

A Place to Call Home

2009-10-02T23:15:00.000-04:00

2009-09-20T18:44:00.000-04:00

no introduction necessary

2009-09-15T20:41:00.000-04:00

i wasn't expecting company

2009-09-14T22:33:00.000-04:00

not quickly broken

2009-09-14T12:14:00.000-04:00

where moths and rust destroy

2009-09-13T18:13:00.000-04:00

the only things that matter

2009-09-13T18:09:00.000-04:00

why must we wait so long...

2009-09-07T13:07:00.002-04:00

2009-08-31T09:56:00.002-04:00

The hardest thing to wrap my mind around is the incredible disparity between what I deserve, and what I've been given. I picture myself crawling into heaven on my hands and knees, the gates nearly closing in on my foot, missing it by an inch. I crawl inside a cardboard box and beg for crumbs from the likes of Billy Graham. And even that, I don't deserve.

He prepares a place for me. In some versions of the Bible it says "mansion."
Can this be right? He prepares a mansion for me.

And though he created the world in six days, he has taken two thousand years to prepare a place for his bride. How do you say thank you? How can it ever be enough? I think for the first million years, heaven will be flooded with tears of joy and gratitude.

2009-07-24T12:53:00.003-04:00

My point of view is fragile.
Because one day I look around,
and I see salt and light-
and the next day
I see a spiritual pissing contest.
Just a matter of perspective I guess.
Lord, change my mind.
Amen.

been thinkin

2009-05-22T15:47:00.003-04:00

My religion is blood and broken bones.
A God humiliated by spit and laughter,
and three nails planted in his body.
A God who cries, and smiles.
Who loves the hands that beat him and slap him.

My God made both snakes and butterflies,
and thats not strange at all. Cause ya know,
He also heals me with his wounds. He HEALS me
with his WOUNDS.

love. apathy. ardor

2009-05-09T19:45:00.002-04:00

do what you love. repeat.

2009-05-02T19:08:00.001-04:00

trust

2009-04-30T08:14:00.004-04:00

Someone said that love and trust are one in the same. Others seemed to agree. If you love somebody, you trust them. If you trust them, you love them. What about You? You love me. Do you trust me? How much trust can you really have in me? If you do. If you trust me. Then every single day, You begin with complete confidence that I will do the right thing. You trust me completely to represent You as a God of peace and hope and kindness. Complete trust in me. Not a doubt. And when I fail, Your heart is broken to the extent that you trusted. And with the beginning of a new day, You trust me all over again. Because your love never fails. Do you trust me? How can you? Can you trust me to do what is right, when you can see into the future and know that I will fail again? It defies logic. And I can't stop thinking about it. Because if you trust me that way, it changes everything.

It changes everything.

tequila worms, fire engine red

2009-04-20T10:01:00.002-04:00

I can't stop thinking about my dream from last night.
Some boys had eaten these bright red worms to get high,
but they just turned into paranoid beasts
with narcisistic rage.
One of them decided to single me out,
and stalk me exclusively.
He chased me all over my home town,
and of course I was only able to run half my speed.
I finally arrived at the front door of the house I grew up in.
The boy beast had scribbled nonsense all over the door,
but one thing jumped out at me, "stop ur liez"
The door was unlocked,
and inside the house was completely empty.
I scrambled all over the house trying to lock all the doors,
and barricade them shut. Every single one had a sign that said
"stop ur liez"
The last door, the one that led to the backyard, didn't have a lock on it.
I was trying everything. Like propping up a chair,
or wedging things under the door. And it was so hot in there.
My hands and face were drenched with sweat.
I could not secure this last door.
I was trying to make a wedge out of a sandal,
when I saw someones eyes between the door and the floor.
It was bryan from church.
He was being stalked by the beasts too.
I let him inside and all he said was
"It turns out, nothing was happening."

A blind kangaroo teaches me a lesson in gratitude

2009-04-06T17:38:00.000-04:00

Romans 8:11

2009-04-02T09:30:00.002-04:00

I always sleep better when You're my last thought. And You're such a good thought. I don't have to be wise or insightful. I can just think of You, and I'm better for it. Happier. Calmer. The person who raised Christ from the dead surrounding me. Inside me. Waiting for me to understand. You're so patient.

When you see me making the same mistakes I did eight years ago, do you laugh or cry?

Cornball sayings such as "life is short, pray hard" make me twitch. I imagine mostly because it's true. This is my life, and I cannot stop the hours. No matter how much I want to. These amazing hours. These terrible hours. To be spent in guilt and anxiety, or consumed in fire and living water. Thats not even a choice.

No. I suppose you're not laughing.

2009-03-30T18:01:00.002-04:00

today

2009-03-27T08:46:00.003-04:00

today I feel your Arms
elusive as they are, (to me)
i breathe yes - and hold it (in)

(Y)ou're such a lovely Ghost.

2009-03-25T22:56:00.001-04:00

strength

2009-03-23T21:21:00.005-04:00

2009-03-22T22:35:00.000-04:00

2009-03-20T09:56:00.000-04:00

green leafe

2009-03-14T10:28:00.002-04:00

I'm just so glad You are.
To be honest, sometimes I'm not.
Like when I forget, and start thinking of you as a police officer.
"Why does he have to be watching all the time?" I think to myself.
But you're on my side, aren't you. Aren't you.
Not hiding behind a building in your patrol car,
with your radar gun pointed at my out of control vehicle.
Writing tickets for laws I haven't even broken yet.
No. Thats not you.

Last night was good. Thank you.
A couple hefeweizens, and a couple good friends.
Oh, and one new friend.
He had a cross tattooed on his arm,
and I asked if it meant something to him,
or if it was just decoration.
He started speaking as if he had some explaining to do.
"I believe in God, but..."
"I don't go to church, but..."
"I was raised Methodist, but.."
"I mean, I believe in the Bible, but..."

And it was like looking in a mirror.

He asked me one more time before I left, what time church starts.

"10:30"

I'm broken. And he's broken. And You're my best friend.
And maybe You can be his too. That's all I know.
I love you.

2009-03-09T17:16:00.002-04:00

Wake up,

O Sleeper.

2009-03-09T17:01:00.001-04:00

It feels good,

to have

a camera again.

reprise

2009-02-05T13:29:00.002-05:00

I shall die from necessity, because I am a cancer. A malignant tumor in my own life, waging war on the work God has done and is doing. I must become less, while He becomes more. I shall take hold of that for which Christ took hold of me.
It's time.

I've wrestled for eight long years, and my body is so tired. My mind is exhausted. I can feel each muscle relax, one by one. Drenched in sweat, I finally lay on my back in submission and wait for you to pin me. But you're holding out your hand. Smiling. Not a bead of sweat. And you say, "I just wanted you to take a walk with me." I love you. I love you.

romans 6

2009-01-26T10:22:00.003-05:00

We often say we're dying.
I'm dying for a cheeseburger.
I'm dying for a milkshake.
I'm dying for a nap.
A shower. An aspirin.
I'm dying.
I'm dying to be alive, in a way that really matters.
I'm dying to be last.
I'm dying to love, without picking and choosing who.
I'm dying to know if I'll have a bride.
I'm dying to be pure in heart.
I'm dying for God to blow me over, because my feet are stuck.
I'm dying to submit to my flesh.
I'm dying to crucify it.
I'm dying for truth.
I'm dying to worship You with my heart spilled out on the floor.
I'm dying to look like a fool.
I'm dying.

song writing is hard

2009-01-06T19:47:00.003-05:00

This is my first attempt at writing a song, complete with words. Please don't laugh at me. Ok, you can laugh at me.

Verse 1

D Bm A D
I left the milk out again
Bm Bm/A
the jar sweats, lukewarm
G
on the countertop--
D
and I can see my relection.

Chorus:

Bm
This is the last time
G
I forget to love You
D
This is the last time
A
I pretend
Bm
I don't belong to You

Verse2
D Bm A D
A broken heart again
Bm Bm/A
and i'm alright, so long;
G
as it's not mine
D
and everythings quiet inside

Ending:
Bm A D
Oh, Lord

2009-01-01T12:59:00.002-05:00

Things feel complicated, and I'm not sure why.
It's time to take inventory.
Ok.
You are good.
I, am not. But thats ok.
Here we are.
I have no idea how to love, or what it even means.
You are love. You are inside me.
You will love others through me if I let You.
Such a simple task such as living my life correctly seems too much of a burden.
You take our burdens.
You say follow Me, and live life. Abundant.
Where is the button I press to pass on free will? I don't want it.
I want You to make my decisions.
I want the nonbelievers to laugh at me in the streets,
and say "he has no mind of his own." It's fine with me.
The best my mind can come up with?
New ways to sin, and new reasons to sin.
Please Jesus,
Your peace
Your love
Your joy
Your purpose.

-Amen

2008-12-23T18:26:00.002-05:00

I closed my eyes, and saw You cut me open. Behind the smooth curtain of skin you gave me was a gross infection, tied into knots and falling apart at the same time. You didn't wince. You weren't surprised. You poured yourself out, into my incision like water into the ground. You were the physician and the medicine. You were the comfort of the hospital bed. I dont know what i'm trying to say. Teach me about love.

2008-12-16T08:37:00.002-05:00

Where yesterday I prayed for peace,
as I stood in a far off place.
Today,
I say affect me. I want your Spirit in every nerve.
Where yesterday I prayed for joy,
but not like those cheeseball christians.
Today,
I say affect me. I want your version of me.
Praise the Lord, O My Soul!
Praise Him!
Please?

Apple Orchard Park

2008-11-26T11:33:00.002-05:00

I took a long walk through a small town in the late morning of a wednesday. Almost everything was closed. The bookstore. The clothing store. The hardware store. The bakery. The only "open" sign hung in the window of the medical supply store. I guess everyone is out sick today. Apple Orchard Park was where I ended up. I stopped for a while and took in the foul landscape of a swingset with chains dangling seatless, and a basketball hoop no longer parallel with the ground, but pointing straight down. I watched my ghost play in the creek, and told myself that Apple Orchard Park would be a decent name for an indie rock band. Then I wondered if I was just being sentimental. Yeah, I think I was. Then I began to pray for whoever came to mind, so I would stop thinking, because I was beginning to get sad. Life is simple I guess. Love Jesus. Love everyone. Play in the creek once in a while. Have a piece of apple pie.

2008-11-14T00:14:00.003-05:00

The day we met, every tree on the block was engulfed in the red and yellow of October. Brilliant leaves fell like embers through the cool electric air.

I felt a happiness so unreal.
It felt just like a happy ending.
It was definitely a beginning.

I raked leaves and fell in love,
with he Who created Love.

I drank deeply of your air, through my lips.
I breathed in your landscape, through the window of my eyes.
My soul rested in the bed of your grass.
My body awake for the first time in years,
amazed by the precision of its organs.
Who has woven these lungs!?
Built my bones!!?
Gathered my blood!?
Knit together my skin to envelope them seamlessly?

Everything was new again. The twenty first time I saw the leaves change.
The day I met you.
And everything was to be on purpose from that day on.
Yes, now I remember.

brain salad

2008-11-10T13:20:00.002-05:00

I have things to say to you, but they are in a new language I have yet to learn. Not that it matters. You speak the language of my tired body and worried mind. You answer prayers before they tumble awkwardly out of my mouth. At work they're telling us that our jobs are not as secure as they use to be, what with the recession and all, and food is getting expensive. The world is both overpopulated, and a lonely place. Sometimes I swear that I might be smart, but then I feel like such an idiot. Do you suppose there is a woman you might be able to share me with someday? I've been sleeping a lot, sometimes eleven hours in a night, and I still feel tired. I wonder if its sadness, because when I run I don't feel alive like I use to. Please help me with that. You're so good at making me happy. I swear I'll let you. Even though I'm not suppose to swear. And please take care of me. They say things are going to get tough soon, so I've been trying to get myself to like ramen noodles again. I know you take care of us anyway, but sometimes I think you like it when we ask.

2008-11-10T12:54:00.002-05:00

Your lips do not smile,
at least not merely-
but the whole of your face; smiles.
Fills me with a strangeness
like wine.
Darker and sweeter than any thing.

The color of you,
is a forever only children understand.

2008-10-23T09:23:00.002-04:00

I began a dream journal a few nights ago, and I never realized how little I remember from my dreams. It's a little frustrating. I read that during an eight hour night of sleep, at least a solid three hours is spent dreaming. Three hours of pictures and narratives and ideas. This is what I recalled from last night and recorded in the journal:

Puzzle pieces. All white. Just solid white puzzles all over the place. I looked closer at the walls, and noticed they were made from white puzzle pieces. They were all over the floor and I began to sweep them up, and there were other faceless people in the room and I sensed that they were making fun of me. -------- I had a long trip ahead of me. Maybe fifteen hours in the car, and I began hours later than I intended to. And I was already exhausted when I began the trip ------- I was in a movie theatre that was playing a movie called Odyssey, but it was about a physician. The Never Ending Story was also playing at the theatre, and that was playing for free. Mindy was there and she suggested we go to see the free movie. Dad was there and was very pleased that The Never Ending Story was playing for free, and this was completely out of character for him.

Then I woke up. I guess I remembered more than the night before. That night? "Snakes all over the ground. Everywhere. I was constantly avoiding them. I had the idea to go and purchase a machete to defend myself and then I woke up"

Ok, time to do awake things.

2008-10-19T14:02:00.004-04:00

Denny takes a lot of pills.
I mean, a lot.

Red ones, yellow.
Green ones, blue.
Striped ones, solid.
Some see-through.

Denny takes a lot of pills.
Maybe twenty in a day.

Visions and voices
and a bit of agitation
high cholesterol
and a little constipation

Denny takes a lot of pills.
But not all at once

One maybe two
Three maybe four
Rather unwise
to swallow any more.

Denny takes a lot of pills.
And today, all at once.

Opened his mouth
Emptied the cup
Right in his throat
The pills sure got stuck.

Denny takes a lot of pills.
And now he's turning blue.

Lets out a cough
The pills were released
Into the air,
The choking has ceased.

Denny takes a lot of pills.
I mean a lot.

Red ones, yellow.
Blue ones, green.
Fall through the air
All over me.

Denny takes a lot of pills.
And they sure aren't dry. (not finished)

2008-10-12T23:07:00.002-04:00

I must love it. To say the wrong thing.
Because when I do, I replay it in my head.
Over.
And over. And
Over.
In a nauseating loop.
I keep it close to me.
I don't let anything distract me, lest I forget.
Thank You for loving me more than I do.

Balloons

2008-10-07T20:25:00.002-04:00

Confusion in its purest does not come from a lack of answers.
It comes when you're finally out of questions.
What is the meaning of life?
What is man's place in the universe?
What is the nature of God?
I'm not a scholar by any means, but I have answers to these questions.
One could disagree with me, but I at least have answers.
I suppose there are more questions;
Jesus, after all my years with you, why does my soul still itch?
Why does it feel like I'm watching my life from the backrow of a coliseum?
How do I get back to the day when your words made me cry?
What is the right question to ask?
When can I expect the answer?
Do you still love me?
Do you still want me?
Can you still use me?
Will you still use me?
Will you continue to repair me? Heal me?
How many times can I wrap myself in your safety and jump from a great height?
Can no one really snatch me from your hand?
When did I eat the last oreo?
I guess there were more questions.

I close my eyes. Breathe in and out. And try to fill the balloon of my heart with belief.

2008-10-07T11:57:00.003-04:00

A language of my body,
Speaks to your silence.
A silence metastatic.
A thing which swims through the denseness of marrow.
My bones are wood and glass.
My skin. He is a heavy robe drenched and slung
over the movable shoulders of a young tree.

Why hangs in the air, palpable
-his warm breath on my neck, to help me remember.
I am locked inside my own stillness,
when a self of mine
stops the drone of the television.
Please remember me.

dreams are a croc

2008-09-26T08:51:00.002-04:00

Early this morning I was travelling down the aisles of a toy store in a row boat. I love strange dreams. Crocodiles lurked in the murky water. I held a fishing rod, and there was one feeding on whatever was at the end of my line. It kept eating its way down the fishing line, closer to the rod, closer to my hands. I willed the boat over to one of the toy racks and climbed up to the top shelf where a store manager was giving instructions to a new employee. I was safe.

Apparently crocodiles in dreams symbolizes evil intentioned people around you. Malice just below the surface. It can also be a representation of our own emotions. Things may seem to be well right now, indicated by the still water, but beneath, there are blood thirsty crocodiles symbolizing powerful emotions not yet dealt with, and therefore still taking residence in my psyche.

I wonder why the employees weren't concerned about my safety. I wonder why they didn't find it odd that the store was in a swamp. I wonder how many children were eaten by crocodiles.

It rains in a such,

2008-09-25T19:18:00.003-04:00

It rains in a such,
sweet hush.
And only better. Slightly.
Than silence.
Holy Ghost lips kiss. Hello. Goodbye. My love. And
speak everythings.
Trees breathe out, but never in.
Sadness ends with the ease it begins.
Wine is a gentle spell,
though not for broken sleepers, or the sick of heart.
Her grapes are not for them. God I love you.
I'm wasting my life.

seven year itch

2008-09-24T18:55:00.002-04:00

Today it almost felt good. Being alive.
There is strength in my body, and I'm laughing a bit more.
I even thought I heard someone call me
... happy. Thanks Jesus.

It's our seven year anniversary.
I know just what to give You.

ekeskog dream

2007-01-24T09:07:00.000-05:00

2006-08-07T11:26:00.000-04:00

I have a job interview today.

I hate job interviews.

Everything that comes out

of my mouth is jumbled nonsense.

But not today. I'm not a cucumber. I'm an ice berg.

That was just a self affirmation. I'm scared to death.

I've prayed, I've practiced...

I've pooped (I get diarhea (sp?) when i'm nervous).

Nothing left to do. Wish me luck.

2006-07-21T19:53:00.000-04:00

2006-07-17T19:57:00.000-04:00

2006-07-16T17:00:00.000-04:00

2006-06-25T17:12:00.000-04:00

Never could I watch a woman cry,
because she reminds me
of my own vulnerability.
And in her cheeks,
scintillated with salt water,
the reflection of my carelessness.
My cruelty is no longer amusing.

2006-06-19T21:56:00.000-04:00

2006-06-15T14:28:00.000-04:00

2006-06-14T15:35:00.000-04:00

tenderness

2006-06-14T15:30:00.000-04:00

2006-06-10T15:42:00.000-04:00

I took a picture

of a dragonfly

today, and

I felt happy.

psalm 102

2006-06-08T10:54:00.000-04:00

2006-06-01T13:20:00.000-04:00

Spittin the rhymes freestyle homie

2006-05-31T15:28:00.000-04:00

You see, I must be
some kind of ordinary.
This dichoto-me
so incendiary.
But you see
I can't breathe.
And when you leave
my world grieves.
Grinning,
through my teeth.
Lying,
through my cheeks.
Every word
my tongue speaks-
intel the devil leaks.
I don't want to be
the sword in a fairy tale
I just want to be
like an ordinary male.

2006-05-31T15:24:00.000-04:00

My dog is so sad and lonely,
he sleeps all day and night-
dreaming of squirrels and birds and bologna,
no one can see his plight

Attention is all he desires,
but don't ever hug him too tight!
He'll growl and bid for the space he requires
and cry if you leave from his sight

2006-05-27T22:15:00.000-04:00

Silence feels like a stranger
though her mouth forms my name-
and her voice, familiar as it is
while I change, stays the same

Her lover I once was
though she has forgotten me-
a harlot for kind words,
I love her completely

My body is a country
her cities burn wild and bright
where her children are slain
in its exquisite light

2006-05-26T16:45:00.000-04:00

try to walk on eggshells
with calloused feet
and a heavy heart-

try to smile a smile
when your head
is coming apart-

try to think good thoughts
when each mistake
loops in your mind-

try to find the sunshine
when the negatives
are all you can find-

try to get back on
when the horse
has broken his legs-

i suppose i'll do a jig
and make an omelette
out of those eggs!

2006-05-05T14:02:00.000-04:00

Toast and apple butter.
Fine china.
Sun, then moon,
and sun again.
Luxuriant suits.
White dresses.
Silence, then laughter
then silence again.
Praying tongues.
Bread and wine.
Life abundant.
Everything in its right place.

don't count your chickens

2006-05-04T11:20:00.000-04:00

she's so tender
she's made of glass
careful with those words,
they could be her last!

her fragility
must be approached
with vulnerability
like soft, white infancy

held tightly, her parts-
in trembling arms,
he speaks merely in
whispers and secrets and songs

2006-05-03T19:42:00.000-04:00

2006-04-21T18:28:00.000-04:00

Bitterness.
Envy.
The distinct impression that you are not of any value.
Sadness.
Dirty.
A loneliness that pulls in every direction.
Brokeness.
Worry.
Sleepy. Tired. Frustrated. Finished.
Deceived.
The distinct impression that the losing team is winning.
The illusion of failure where there is victory.
Hopelessness.
Confusion.
Bad writing.
Quenched Spirit.
Naked and covered with sores.

2006-04-14T09:20:00.000-04:00

if hurt, being the humanistic linguist she is
if her voice, being like the sound of a car crash-
if her siren song brings me yet closer to You
let them tear my flesh from bone and tissue
and drag me through the salt by my tongue

if shame, being like a fever to the soul
if pyrexia, infecting the hear(emotional constitution)t
if the uninhabitable climate of my being,
draws me yet closer to You, let them proclaim
what I have done in the dark, from the rooftops

(unfinished)

2006-03-05T22:44:00.000-05:00

rumors slither about
on their bellies, alone
feasting on the flesh
and blood of their own

the uncomfortable journey

2006-02-28T15:58:00.000-05:00

man's life is but a breath

2006-02-28T15:44:00.000-05:00

The Target Sessions

2006-02-25T21:49:00.000-05:00

2006-02-25T21:43:00.000-05:00

I can't take credit
for this one. It was
taken by... eh what
the heck. I took it.
I rule. I did the
image correction
anyway.

2006-02-24T22:08:00.000-05:00

Everything hurts all over. I watched as You threw a million diamonds into the lake, or maybe you just made the sun shine just right-both are equally spectacular. I worshiped You. It was an easy moment. It was easy to love you. It was easy to be loved. But I come back to my life. I know there should not be such a great distinction, but today there is. And reality is such an angry lover. Contemptuous and wild. And I don't know what I'm trying to say.

2006-02-24T00:11:00.000-05:00

I cannot possibly,
if I ever did want to
I could not possibly
ever stop loving You

stomach.knot.buzz

2006-02-23T00:00:00.000-05:00

Is everyone brilliant in their own mind? For me, when they all speak with oh such wonderful originality and wit, there is only a buzzing. And I don't know if its because I'm stupid or genius. But my stomach and head hurt with a stench and a twisting of knots. Tight. Pungent. I'm tired a lot and I find it hard to speak to people. I find it hard to speak to Jesus. It used to be easy. But I'm still trying. I'm more and more strange as the years go on. I become more and more out of place in the universe. Or maybe it's just in my head. In the twisting of knots. Someday I'm going to make sense again. Everything will make sense again. Love Jesus. Love others. Love me. Is it so hard? I suppose not. But we must never forget holiness, and sacrifice, and self denial. Those are quite hard. Maybe they are why my stomach and head are in knots. I'm looking for the easy way, but there isn't one. There is only one way. I have to die. I want to be alive again. I want things to make sense again. I should sleep.

2006-02-21T15:34:00.000-05:00

I consider the lillies in the field,
and the birds in the air,
and I, I try not to worry.
But it doesn't help.
I present my requests to God,
but what if He's about to teach me a lesson I'll never forget?
What if something really bad is about to happen?
I suppose all things work together for the good of those who love Him.
I pray to the Lord, and I tell Him he is kind,
but in my heart of hearts I still think He may be out to get me.
I need his love and grace to get through every day,
so why is the cost so low on such a great necessity?
Didn't God ever take an economics course?

Man, that Napolean thing is supposed to move. Oh well.

2006-02-11T12:25:00.000-05:00

2006-02-11T12:15:00.000-05:00

Welp, it's getting near. All the boxes and sundry items are stacked by the door, ready to go into the car. It looks like it'll never fit inside that Olsmobile, but it's all geometry. I can make it work. I've gotten rid of so much stuff, it's unreal. I like it though. I'm going to keep up this minimalist lifestyle for as long as I can. Well, I guess it's probably an Americanized version of minimalism. Maybe I should look up minimalist to make sure I'm even talking about the right thing. I'm going to try and get out of here tomorrow. Today i have to go to the comcast office and return the cable modem I've been leasing for three dollars a month. Dad is coming later on today to get my coffee table and a few other things that he will hold on to for me. Ok this blog is really boring. I guess i'm just saying seeya later Mr. Blog. I probably won't talk to you for a few days. So here is Napolean to entertain you. I hope it works on here.

2006-02-10T23:10:00.000-05:00

"Apart from

me you

can do

nothing."

BONJOUR!!!

2006-02-10T19:05:00.000-05:00

In the process of packing I found
the beret that my friends got
for me when they went overseas.
I honestly haven't worn it once,
except for the day I received it.
And that was the day I went into
Staples and shouted Bonjour!! huh
huh!!! I probably looked like an
idiot, but it seemed funny. You
might be asking why I took a picture
of myself with the beret on. Well
it should be pretty clear that I have
no life.

2006-02-09T21:19:00.000-05:00

2006-02-09T13:07:00.000-05:00

Though your
sins are
like scarlet,
they shall be
white as
snow; though
they are
red as
crimson, they
shall be like
wool.

BLACK

2006-02-04T10:49:00.000-05:00

RED

2006-02-04T10:47:00.000-05:00

WHITE

2006-02-03T19:33:00.000-05:00

2006-02-03T13:32:00.000-05:00

I close my eyes, and imagine. I'm standing at the center of a frozen lake. The cold air was stinging my face, but now it's just numb. And my fingers are frozen solid. All of the sudden
the ice begins to crack and spiderweb beneath my shoes. My heart is knocking against my
rib cage violently. Gravity pushes me through the sheet of ice and now the lake has swallowed
me up. Water below freezing, yet not frozen. When I float back to the top I'm obstructed by
the sheet of ice. My hands move around in panic, searching for the opening. I keep searching.
My bones feel like rubber, and my muscles like wood. But I keep searching. I'm searching.
I keep looking, but I can't find it. I'm searching. Everything is so cold, it's burning. I'm searching.

I open my eyes. I consider how I seek the Lord.
I compare.

2006-02-03T12:08:00.000-05:00

I had a special

request for

a picture of

Bailey taking

a dump. Here

it is. Drop it

like it's hot!!

2006-02-02T22:13:00.000-05:00

Lord, I'm sweeping my house clean,
but it's oh so lonely.
And the cast of characters
dwindling.
Don't get me wrong.
It's worth it,
a hundred times over.
But you understand,
that I need someone to talk to.
Because see my house is swept clean.
Almost completely.
And I am alone.
Don't get me wrong.
It's worth it,
a hundred times over.
I just need you to know
how much I love you.
The way you tug on my heart,
and make me want you more.
It makes me feel right,
in ways I don't feel often.
But see I'm alone tonight,
sweeping my house clean.
And don't get me wrong.
It's worth it,
a hundred times over.
I just need you to know,
that if it's like this forever,
well that's ok with me.
Because you're worth it.
A hundred times over.

2006-02-02T20:41:00.000-05:00

I have no fear of sounding trite, because it is what it is.
I don't have to be anything to anyone, for You to love me.
I have not yet been poor and naked, but already untrue.
I run away at the first sign of trouble.
I am a poor excuse for a redeemed soul.
I am a liar, yet You stand close to me when others look away.
I take advantage of your grace, yet you do not withold it.
I act in ways that suggest You are my enemy
I utter hateful words, yet You love me with everything.
I have no fear of sounding trite.
I don't have to be anything to anyone, for You to love me.

2006-02-02T12:20:00.000-05:00

I posted this on my photo-journal
and got quite a few compliments on
it, which really quite surprised me.
For hours, I was walking around
my home town and taking pictures,
but it didn't seem to be working.
I kept going because I thought
maybe someone else would see
something that I couldn't see
because well... it's my hometown.
It's strange the way we just make
up our minds, how we want to
see things. I'm rambling.

2006-02-01T14:24:00.000-05:00

"I am

the

vine,

you

are the

branches."

2006-02-01T13:00:00.000-05:00

He

did

it

for

me.

Brand New Suit

2006-02-01T11:04:00.000-05:00

It's almost awkward to feel this clean again, like a brand new suit. I walk around, from here to there, whistling and snapping my fingers. Everything feels light, like when I was nine and would get out of the bath just before bedtime after chasing imaginary things around the block all day. I almost felt fine. Just fine in a bath of broken glass and vomit. Because I was convinced that if I tried to move, I would fall and the shards would only cut me deeper. And I would hurt far more than I already did. But that's a lie. The bondage is an illusion, just like the loneliness. I am free. And I am loved with unrelenting love. I was lied to, and told that Jesus doesn't know what it's like to be inside my head because he is the Lord of all creation, but he does understand because he is a man also. He knows what it is to have words thrown at you that cut far deeper than any weapon. To be angry. To be depressed. To experience "sorrow to the point of death." To have men laugh at you because you appear weak, and maybe in that moment you even are. To desire women, but know that you must put to death the desires of the flesh in order to carry out what God has commanded.

I'm so tired.

There is nothing left to do but surrender. Jesus, I need you.
I am weak. I have no control over myself apart from You.
Please don't stop loving me.

1John 4:16

2006-01-31T11:35:00.000-05:00

Whoever

lives

in love

lives in

God, and God

in him.

2006-01-31T02:12:00.000-05:00

Becca, I totally took the rain drop picture and I tried to do it again and couldn't. But nonetheless, my ego has been difficult to haul around ever since. Yah, I was pretty happy with it. Thank you for the compliment. I'm pretty obsessed with macro shots.

2006-01-30T12:24:00.000-05:00

God
is
greater
than
our
hearts.

1John 1:6-7 A note to self.

2006-01-29T12:24:00.000-05:00

If we claim to have

fellowship with him

yet walk in the

darkness, we lie and

do not live by the truth.

But if we walk in the light

as he is in the light,

we have fellowship with

one another, and the blood of Jesus,

his Son, purifies us from all sin.

2006-01-29T01:52:00.000-05:00

Eric, thank you for the voicemail. Or rather, thank you for the three voicemails. And believe me, I didn't expect your sympathy. The last thing you should have felt, was sorry for me. You're a good friend. I didn't hear harshness or judgement in your voice, but God's grace being shown to me through you. I thank you. The post that you were calling about has been removed because it served it's purpose, and it doesn't really go along with the theme that the contumacious heart sort of has. In fact, I'll probably take this one off too once you've read it. I would like to hang out for sure. We'll have to make a point to before I leave for VA. It's weird how you can be so ashamed of your sins that you go out of the light and into the darkness where you can't really see them anymore, and then they overtake you almost completely. I'd forgotten how supportive and understanding my brothers and sisters are. The devil even made me fearful to tell my best friend about these things until last night, which is ridiculous. I don't know what to say. I'm just so thankful for the loving discipline of the Lord. It's been long coming. Anyway. Thank you.

2006-01-28T14:00:00.000-05:00

2006-01-25T14:55:00.000-05:00

Please... no...

it's not my time!!

Eat the olives.

Yeah, the olives.

They're good.

You want olives...