love IS

Yesterday at church the sermon was about Love. Very appropriate considering it was (St.)Valentine's weekend.

We spent time in 1Cr13--in the passages where Love is described... Love is patient. Love is kind. Love is not envious or boastful...

And our pastor spoke about what it looks like to be patient, what it means to be kind, or not envious etc...

But one thing struck me, as an aside really, and it revolved around "love IS," or to be more specific it revolved about what it meant to BE kind, to BE patient, etc. 

See there's a difference between being kind and acting kind. When you look up kind in the dictionary it is defined as a good and benevolent nature. It means the very essence of what someone is is good and benevolent. 

Sometimes as Christians we pat ourselves on the back when we exhibit self-control. What I mean is that we see someone or are put in a situation where we can be rude, impatient, judgmental, etc... And on the inside we are thinking so many things: little insults or wise cracks, inside we're boiling with impatience, inside we're furious. But we rein it all in, and then congratulate ourselves for BEING so Kind. 

When in fact, people who ARE kind, whose natures are truly kind, whose natures are truly patient, aren't thinking of wisecracks and insults. They aren't actually frustrated but holding it in. 

They really are waiting patiently. They really only have soft and kind thoughts about people. They are gracious. 

Don't get me wrong, it is a tremendous feat to hold one's tongue and to exhibit self-control, but that's only the first step. We've got to pray for a transformation of our nature. We need God to help transform us into GENUINELY kind and patient persons. 

Because otherwise we are just ACTING kind and ACTING patiently. We ARE not genuinely that way. 

See Jesus clarified the law for us in Matthew 5. He went further than simply condemning acting upon our sinful nature, but he went so far as to condemn even our sinful thoughts.  Jesus realized that our thoughts reveal a lot about our natures.

_____________________________________

I have the perfect example of living kindness in my husband--a man who is truly kind. 

A number of years back while we were in marriage counseling, we did an exercise. It took us hours, but we sat down and dug into our natures. We searched for who we are at our cores. To better understand each other, it was important to try to pin down that one quality that permeates almost every action and thought. 

Mine was Passion.

Lee's was Kindness.

At the very core of who Lee IS is kind. It explains why he only sees the good in people, to the point of it harming him in relationships and friendships. It explains why he's hurt when people take advantage of his niceness. He has often spoken to me about how people in his life have mistaken his kindness for weakness. And after yesterday's sermon, it explains why he would say this, 

I mean the sermon today was all common sense...Just be genuine!

 Of course being genuine to him would mean being patient and kind--it's who he genuinely is! But that is not the case for most of us, especially me.

I know that I'm not as naturally kind as my husband, but I pray to God to transform me into a kinder and more loving person. 

One Word: Achieve

I was once very ambitious

And competitive to the point of vicious. 

Each challenge was met as an affront--

Stalking my opponent and preparing to hunt.

Till one day my confidence was broken

And I was no longer brave and outgoing

In my place was someone guarded and scared

Dreams left to die because I refused to dare.

And here I am older and irrelevant

trying to start over--to write a new testament.

My one dream is to find something to achieve

And yet I'm so scared to even believe.

Exhilarating

I skim my fingertips across your smooth skin--
Feeling and pinching you.
You are delicate but resilient,
As my zealous hands explore you further.

You feel so familiar to me, but in every way that matters
You're completely new.
And while, I feel like I can predict where this is going--
How this is going to end,

I need you to bring me there.

I always get like this toward the end.
You're irresistible to me.

And once I've had you
Felt you
Consumed you
I place you among the countless others.

Physically forgotten
But eternally etched in my soul--
In the very stuff that makes me
me.

Quotes of Late

Jillien: Bae, how do you feel about going to the store to pick up eggs and bacon for  breakfast?
Lee: I don't feel good about it.
-------------------------------------------
Jillien: Ugh, my friend posted the nastiest shit i've ever seen in my life on Facebook today.
Lee: I hate when t hey do that
Jillien: i can't seem to get it out of my mind. I keep thinking about it and It literally makes me gag... What should I do?
Lee: Don't tell me about it...
-----------------------------------------

[The sounds of Lee playing Fifa in the background....Cheers from the tv]
Lee:....Fucker.

-------------------------------------------

Maggie: knock knock
Lia and I: Who's there?
Maggie: Orange
L&J: Orange Who?
Maggie: Orange you gunna eat?

---------------------------------------
Maggie: knock knock
Lia and I: Who's there?
Maggie: Grape
L&J: Grape Who?
Maggie: Orange you gunna eat?

---------------------------------------------------
Maggie: knock knock
Lia and I: Who's there?
Maggie: Bee blop doobie da da blah
L&J: Bee blop doobie da da blah Who?
Maggie: Orange you gunna eat?

A Reader: 1968

You never got past page 115. I know because you never got around to lifting the dog-eared page you used to keep your place. Now 46 years later, the page is so precisely creased that I'm certain attempting to straighten it will only result in its tearing completely off.  You wrote a small prose In the back that I'm certain was Salinger induced, inspired, and impersonated. Although, I must admit that your small anecdote scribbled in the back empty pages of a long-forgotten, never read volume has been more successfully delivered than any such writing i've composed.

Douglas, May 1968. I also don't think I've ever seen a book so old yet so perfectly preserved – almost as if it's owner never fully opened any of the pages but gingerly manipulated open the book only as far as needed to uncomfortably read all the words.

One thing I know is that this book cost $.75 in 1968. I bought it for $.50 in 2014.  I probably would've paid $.75.

It's that good.

My Yellow Wallpaper is a 47" Smart TV

Slowly consuming all of my attention
And my sanity.
The images that peer through its screen
Entrap me.
I had my reservations
My protests
My vehement opposition
But I resigned
And now it's got hold of me.

glances

Long yet subtle--
Your glances show
A passion underneath,
Which no one knows.

Just a little bit

I've heard thousands sermons over the course of my life. Each one life-giving and spiritually fulfilling, but every now and again, a sermon will change my life--or at least my perspective on life, a behavior, or a mindset.  But in this particular instance, it took years for the message to fully saturate and for me to understand how truly wise it was.

Several years ago, probably over 5 years, I attended a sermon preached by Mike Haman of Healing Place Church in Baton Rouge. 

He was talking of his pre-teen daughter wanting to go to the movies with her girlfriends. The issue was not that she wanted to go to the movies but about the particular movie she wanted to see. When her father objected that the movie had foul language, violence, and racy material, her defense was that there was "only a little bit." There were only a few bad words, and a little bit of violence, and only a few racy scenes. Nothing to flip out about.

That's when Mike painted this picture:

Imagine I'm baking you cookies to enjoy when you get back from the movies. I spend a lot of time gathering the best ingredients: Ghiradelli milk chocolate chips, brown sugar, butter, flour, etc.. I'm stirring up my batter, but before I finish, I go to the backyard, scoop up a little bit of one our dog's turds, come back in, and mix it into the batter with the rest of the ingredients.

Now you and your girlfriends come back from the movies, and you smell the delicious, freshly baked cookies. Y'all are ready to eat, but before you dig in, I let you know all the care and delicious ingredients that went into making these cookies. I mention the chocolate chips, the sugar, and butter, and oh yea, a little bit of dog poo. 

You're disgusted. You refuse to eat these cookies. Even though they are made with choice ingredients, the dog poo has contaminated and ruined something that could have been so good. No matter how much I reassure you that I only put  A LITTLE TINY BIT of poo in them, you still refuse...

You see, this is how sin corrupts.  It only takes a little bit to contaminate the whole--in your marriage with lust or temptation, in your workspace with regard to ethics or honor, at your church with dissension and slander... Just a little bit, can ruin the whole.

Why did it take me so long to understand this message, I've no idea.

when I'm down

My biggest dream was to build you up
To be a pillar
To be a start
To something huge
And to be a guide
With all the wisdom
we gained through our lives.
That we could help you
And stand beside,
But through it all
We were wholly denied
Not a word was heeded
Not a request was granted
But instead the complete opposite happened.
We were pushed aside and overlooked
We were kept away while you chose a new look.
We were used for your service and taken for granted
And with each passing day of being unwanted
We saw more and more who you had become
And learned that we were no longer one
But divided and torn and fading and waning
And now you're history and our future is waiting

Yesterday

Looking back
And I like what I see.
A time of perfect anger and animosity
A time of perfect passion and never ending love
A time of perfect wondering and perfect giving-up.

Looking back
And I like what I see
Two people going somewhere together
But walking on different streets.

Looking back
And I like what I see
A young woman trying to find herself
With a cigarette, a beer, and short cut-off jeans.

Looking back
And I like what I see...

All Over

It's the gentle way you move your hands

The roughness of your beard

The strength in your back and arms

That keep my eyes glued here.

It's the smirk and straight white teeth

It's the dark, full head of  wavy hair

It's the way you think and speak 

That's got me going nowhere.

I let it wash all over me

I let it flow inside

I listen it to it when it speaks

And let it blow my mind.

My late night wandering

My heavy lids and frowning brow--

I'm still awake but don't know how,

Or better yet I don't know why.

Just a few more words and then I'll lie.

Jill Sweetie

You called me "Jill Sweetie"
Probably one of the only people in the world
Who has ever called me Jill.
It never sounded right when anyone said it.
But from you, it's pretty perfect.
Jill Sweetie...
After I said good bye
Because I knew you were drunk
And I couldn't take another minute of your rambling
I couldn't stand another second of thinking about
How stagnant you are.
It hurts me.
It pisses me off.
Remember when we were young?
Playing Marvel vs Capcom
Eating Mexican food
Skateboarding
Driving around in that old beat up car of yours.
That was before your DUI's
Before your drug addictions
Before your suspended license
Before your suspended life
Jill Sweetie...
It made me smile
It really did
Reminded me of how important we were to each other
Once.
It made me wonder if I were still that important to you
Now.

where are all the words?

On continuing the theme of thanksgiving

To my fellow story church'ers:

I stumbled this Sunday, but you held me aloft and prevented my fall.

Thank you.

Thank you Mr. Driver....

You waited for me to run across the intersection, before finally turning the corner behind me and driving off.

What you didn't know about the female runner pushing the jogging stroller with a sleeping 2 year old on this overcast morning was that I'm a quitter. Or I was gunna be a quitter. I had been planning on giving up once I reached that intersection and just turning back and going home. I had been thinking about quitting even before I started my run. I kept wondering how far I would go before I gave up.

See my intention when I set out today was to run all the way to Target. I needed to buy a helmet for my daughter, and since I don't have a car, I'm walking/running everywhere I go. But Target is about 2.5 miles away from home, and I knew once I ran all the way to Target, I'd eventually have to run all the way back home. It was too much for me to think about, and when my mind did settle on that daunting task it would imagine my inevitable failure.

I had run about a mile and half by the time I reached that intersection-- by the time you sat patiently waiting for me to cross, not knowing the battle within my mind. That small, simple, patient act inspired me to keep on running, which I did. I ran the 2.5 miles to Target. I bought the helmet, and then made the painful trek back home. Granted, the run back was like taking a ride on the pain train, and I again entertained thoughts of quitting and walking back  (which if you look at my pace, I'm sure you would think I had walked!) But I didn't. I kept my legs moving. I kept on pushing. I made it home and wrote this thank you note to you.

FWF--1682

My FWF prompt:

You find yourself in the lower level of an old ship. A calendar on the wall says  1682. There is a small window, and the view is nothing but open sea and a setting sun. There is a staircase and you can see daylight at the top…

Why am I so damn uncomfortable?

She thought as she woke from a fretful sleep--

As if she were being tossed side to side and back and forth while she dreamt.

Her eyes slowly adjusted to the unusual darkness in her room.

This isn't my room!! Where the hell am I???!

The smell of salt water and wet wood overwhelmed her.

She heard the loud creaking sound of boards under extreme pressure.

The sloshing of water against a large blunt object.

The shouts of men above her--

Orders, she didn't understand.

And suddenly the distinct shuffling of rats scurrying below her feet.

Panicked she flung herself around the room,

Flinging and breaking small bottles off a small table near her bed.

She stretched high enough to glimpse outside the small round window.

Nothing but water and bright sunlight.

She couldn't breathe.

She couldn't think straight.

And suddenly words started coursing through her mind.

A mantra. Almost a prayer. Like she'd done it a million times:

My name is Annie Hidalgo. I'm from Harvey, Louisiana. I was born on February 4th, 1985.

My name is Annie Hidalgo. I'm from Harvey, Louisiana. I was born on February 4th, 1985.

My name is Annie Hidalgo. I'm from Harvey, Louisiana. I was born on February 4th, 1985.

I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy.

She saw a staircase on the far end of the room.

She slowly made her way up and peaked ever so carefully at the scene before her.

Men pulling at ropes on sails, mopping the deck, keeping watch high on the ship's masts.

They noticed her at once-- even though her large, frightened eyes were level with the deck.

She overheard a man whispering. 

Der she be. Wee lass touched in the head, she is.

Affecting an air of confidence, she popped her head and shoulders out quickly.

Trying to control her breathing and straightening her shoulders, 

She called out to the man nearest her.

"Hey you! Is this real?"

He paused before answering with a simple "Aye."

"What day is it?"

"...not this again. It is the 21st of March."

"And the year?"

"1682."

Just then a young handsome man came over to her.

"Ah Lady Elaine, you've awaken."

Lady Elaine? Does he think I'm Lady Elaine?

She responded quickly, but the tremble in her voice betrayed her terror,

"I think you must be mistaken, whoever you are. My name is Annie Hidal..."

"Yes, Yes of course you are." the man interrupted. 

"Have you had your syrups yet, m'lady?

You'll feel much better once you've taken your syrups."

Poor Financial Decision

We bought a tv. 47" tv. with money that I'd saved up. We paid cash. No debt. No hassle. No wondering how I'm gunna pay it off.... so why do i feel like throwing up?

Is it because I was proud of our little 25" tv? "we're not TV people I would say."

Six Hundred Dollars. gone.

Money I could have used to open an IRA for myself.

Or for 5 months membership at the YMCA

Or to pay for Lia to take piano lessons.

Or to buy sports equipment

Or....

Toward a new car.

Firestone called me today after checking on a "rubbing sound" Lee was concerned about.

$2000 to repair.

Two Thousand Dollars to repair a 2002 Nissan Altima.

A 2002 Nissan Altima that I spent $1200 in car maintenance last year.

Actually I've spent over $500 in repairs on that car every year that I've had it, if you can imagine that.


The catalytic converter. Alternator. Spark plugs. Breaks. Calipers. Tie Rods. Computer chips. yadda yadda yadda

We decided not to do the repairs.

We will be  a 1 car family.

A one car family with a 47" tv.

Stuck by the Woods on a Snowy Afternoon

The woods are but a narrow shield.

Concrete and metal and mess concealed

I look about me through the snow

Because I have been forced to yield

There's chaos on the streets today
The snow and ice kept most at bay
But we, on the road, thought better
And now we've learned there's no clear way

Cars and snow are all around.

But despite the crowd, I hear no sounds.

I stare out my car windows and see

Lone trees stoically standing ground

I sit and stare upon the wood
Still and Peaceful it all stood
Against the noise and fervent crowds
It bore the storm as only a tree could

The Walk

By that ancient river
Side by side
Me hiding and you pining
While the water flowed by.

Cannolis by the dozen
I was so hot that they felt frozen
I ate them just for you
And you bought them without knowin'.

I'm not one for sweets.
And being that close made me freak
I was sweatin' up a storm
And you were as cool as could be.

Remember the walk by the river?
Years ago and yet never clearer
Ages and lives have come and gone
And yet that memory still lives on.