silent morning

it is christmas, and for these brief, early moments, there is silence.

i have been in calgary/airdrie now for four days. four days filled with lots of family, and all the things that come with a growing extended family. there has been much laughter throughout it all...and given that at our core we are, indeed, half french, when we are all together, there is little that resembles peace and quiet.

in about four and a half hours, my parent's home will once again be filled with all of us: my brothers, sisters in law, nieces, nephews...most likely all still on a Santa-induced high, but ready to dive into phase two. there will be much chaos as we live out our memories of christmas 2007. and it will be good.

but for now, sitting here in the silence, enjoying it all the more with the knowledge that it will soon be over, my heart is filled with gratitude and love for the little baby who made not only the day, but my life what it is today.

no gift under any tree this morning can change the life and heart of mankind the way the original gift did, and my heart is filled with gratefulness and grace.

welcome to our world, Baby Jesus. welcome to our world.



it's been a blustery, snowy day here in mississauga. the kind of day that makes you happy in the knowledge that you don't have to leave the house...which i didn't. i've been holed up here in my new home all day, and it's been bliss.

this day has had an unofficial theme, however, at least for me, and the theme for the day is how much i miss paris. it's been 582 days since i last set foot there, and the close of this year is reminding me of the promise i made to myself to go back...and how i could not make that promise come true this year. i know that in 105 days i will be there, but today it's not helping.

to intensify the matter, tonight, i watched, for the first time, the 1951 movie An American In Paris, and believe that i now have a new favorite. while watching the movie i was reading Adam Gopnik's book, Paris To The Moon, and coincidentally enough, in the pages i was reading, he actually referred to the movie. very Twilight Zone-ish.

all this leads me to a question that has been haunting me all day:

how can one be homesick for a place one has not only never lived, but also has never spent more than five days in?



we've all heard the story before.

it started in sunday school, the setting, a manger in bethlehem, the characters included shepherds, angels, a young engaged couple, and the star of the show-- a baby.

when you hear a story as often as we have this one, being told and retold every year, it begins to lose its mystery, its power. at the story's onset, we know what is going to happen. we already know the ending.

also, since we hear the story told generally only at one time of the year, and ignored throughout the rest, it's easy to forget that it is not simply a short story in a large book. it is a small but important part of a larger story that encompasses generations. it's not the beginning, although it is the visible beginning of the fulfilment of a promise made when adam & eve first donned their leafy couture. and its not the end...we are still living out the story today.

the larger story, the history, is that the world that this baby was born into was a world waiting for hope. a nation whose disobedience to their God had cost them more than they could imagine. their only remaining hope echoed in promises and words that they hadn't heard in hundreds of years. four hundred years, to be exact. four hundred years of oppression, grief and strife. four hundred years of silence-- not one word from God.

these silent years had to have weighed heavily on the people of israel. Where are you, God? Have you forgotten us? Have you forgotten your promises? Have we gone too far? Is it too late?

this is where our Christmas story begins; with a people waiting. waiting for hope. waiting for oppression to end. waiting to see that they hadn't gone so far that God had given up on them. waiting for their king to arrive and save them.

what does this season find you waiting for? what is it that your heart is longing for? are you still waiting for a dream to be fulfilled? are you waiting for healing? a relationship to be restored? guidance for the future?

we are all waiting for something.

when you only read this small part of the larger story, it would be easy to overlook the fact that these people waiting for their king, didn't recognize him when he came. they were expecting something else. some kind of more immediate delivery from their waiting. and so with a few exceptions, they missed it.

God doesn't always show up or answer our waiting & hoping with what we want.

God knew that what was needed wasn't a great warrior king to obliterate enemies, but rather, humanity needed someone to walk with us, to be our friend, showing us how to live, how to deal with our problems, how to pray, how to love...basically how to live.

so today, this beginning of Advent, we again start in the middle of the story, and most people, on december 26 will stop in the middle of the story. but my prayer for us is that when we come out of this season, and head into the new year that awaits us, we will remember that our God is with us, and the God who came to earth as a baby, still comes to his people. And that even though our hopes and prayers may still remain unanswered, we would remember that the story is not finished... and although we don't see a star in the sky heralding the answer to our prayers, we believe that God is still at work in this world, and in our lives.

o come, o come Emmanuel...



somewhere else

tonight, on my walk home, i happened to look up and see a happy plane*. as it banked left and headed off into a perfectly indigo sky, i felt the familiar longing that i was on that plane. but tonight was different. tonight there was no specific destination in mind. it wasn't paris, calgary, new york or even kiev, even though i was supposed to be headed there tonight.

tonight, i just want to be somewhere else.

*see thursday, oct 4's post, 'a theory'


live everything...

for our small group, we are doing a Bible study on the book of Job. in a literary sense, Job is my most favorite book of the Bible for so many reasons. but, for as many times as i've read the book, going slowly through it (it took seven days to go through chapter one!) is adding a whole new dimension...and i'm ending up with more questions than answers.

which isn't a bad thing, as long as i don't simply let the questions sit there and not do anything with them. but it's a good thing, because having been a follower of Christ for over thirty years (yikes!), it's easy to get into a mindset where i think i've gotten God figured out. between this, and philip yancey's book on prayer, i am reminded that in essence, all i think i know is mostly shadow.

i am reminded once again of Rilke's words, which i've quoted here before, but for my own remembrance i will do so again:

“Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves ... Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point it, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps, then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”

there is so much unresolved in my heart that sometimes i feel like it will burst, and my tendency is to rush to have it all figured out, so i can have a sense of completion. but i think in regards to a human soul, there is no real sense of completion that can be accomplished on this side of eternity. perhaps there is a reason why every day we start new, to remind us that no matter how far we go in life, we always have to start over again the next day. i cannot eat tomorrow's food today. i cannot carry today's discipline over to tomorrow, i need to be disciplined again tomorrow. tomorrow morning i will have a choice at 5am if i will get up to write, or if i will turn over & go back to sleep. i will have a choice to love or to be selfish. i will start all over again tomorrow.

my questions don't shake me as they used to when i was younger. what shakes me are those times of reflection when i cannot see any growth; times when i look more like the world than i do like Jesus. it is those times when i sometimes wonder if real change is possible. then, i can look back into my journals & see the journey i have come from and am reminded that i am not the same girl typing these words that i used to be, and the only reason for that is the grace & love of God. and this realization gives me hope for tomorrow...that the same God who brought me here will continue with me through my life.

regardless of the questions i am living.



In the beginning
In the beginning
Before oceans and sunsets
Before iguanas
Before color and time…when all there was was darkness

In the beginning
God created the heavens and the earth.
Before laughter and tears and hunger.
Before there was ever fighting and war.
Before there was madness
And taxes. And coffee.
Before us—
In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.

He made everything you can see—
And some things you can’t.
He separated the earth from the heavens and the sea from the dry land.
He created grass and tulips and daisies and cacti and palm trees.

Then, he created two great lights—
the sun and the moon—
to shine down over the earth.
The greater one, the sun, to reign during the day
and the lesser, the moon, overseeing the night.
God set these lights in the heavens to light the earth, to govern the day and the night, and to separate the light from the darkness.
To separate light from dark.

But he didn’t stop there.
He created horses and eagles and koala bears—
and over all these,
As their master,
He created people—
Man and woman—
You and me—
Created us in his image, to be like him.
To live in this world of light separated from darkness.

The created walked with the Creator in his world.
They walked beside him, with him.
Until the day they chose to believe a lie—
a clever lie, shrouded in darkness—
And chose this lie over the light, over the Creator—
Chose to hide themselves in darkness rather than walk in light.

Now the created—
Those fashioned by the Creator of light,
to walk in the light—
Those created to be children of light

were lost in the darkness.

But being lost was just the beginning.
Walking in darkness was just the beginning.
In the darkness there is stumbling.
Falling. Pain.
There is jealousy and anger and murder and death.
Lies, deceit of all kinds. War.
These things, and so many more, these things of the dark—
Thrived under the cover of darkness.
And the Created ones
having chosen darkness over light
were powerless to fight against them.

But—although it could not be seen,
the Creator of light had a plan—
A plan to bring light back to the world of darkness.
There was a plan—
To illuminate the darkness.

O come, o come Emmanuel.
We are lost in the darkness and cannot find our way home.

In the beginning—
In the beginning was the Word,
and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
He was with God in the beginning.
Through him all things were made;
without him nothing was made that has been made.
In him was life, and that life was the light—
the light of all people.

The light shines in the darkness
and the darkness cannot overcome it.
People walking in darkness have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness, a light has dawned.

To shepherds—angels wrapped in light.
To wisemen—a guiding star.
To all
—a baby king lying in a manger.

The light—the true light—
That illuminates and frees us from darkness—

Has come.


things i am thankful for...



football (especially the fact that UM won & MSU lost yesterday...sorry derek).

paris...and the part of me that permanently resides there.

my little people (all of whom i miss dearly today).

the rest of my family (whom i miss as well).

friends, the ones i see every day and the ones i don't see near enough.


'miracle on 34th street' and other movies that lift my spirits.

books that change my way of looking at the world.

pumpkin pies that turned out perfectly.


the small mercy to learn from a mistake.

fluffy pillows.

the desire to grow and be more.

that i got to shop with gram one last time.

that i don't have everything i thought i wanted.

that i don't have everything i still think i want.


a theory

i have some theories about life. some of you have heard them from time to time.

the most popular being the Happy Plane/Sad Plane theory, which basically says that any plane taking off from Pearson Airport is a happy plane, and therefore i wish to be on it, and any plane landing is, of course, a sad plane, since it means that the journey would be over.

on my way to work this morning, i looked up, expecting to see some happy plane on its way to some ambiguous happy place, when i saw that it was a Zoom Airline plane...the same airline that i flew to paris last year. it reminded me that i am not going to paris this year, but also brought up the tension we sometimes feel between joy and happiness.

i'll have to write more on this thought later, as the difference between the two is more complex than happy/sad plane difference.

just so you know, though, it is 17 degrees and cloudy in paris today. not that i'm keeping track.


i think we would have been friends...

warning: this is a bit random tonight...i'm going to blame the heat! :-)

maybe i'm the only one who does this, but have you ever started reading a book, and immediately, whether because of the author's tone or style, or maybe something completely undefined, you start to feel like like you have something in common with the him or her...like, if you lived next door to each other, you would have been friends?

when i read G.K. Chesterton's books, that is how i feel. there's something about the way he writes, i can't help but think that we would have enjoyed may cups of coffee while discussing books and life in general together. i just picked up 'orthodoxy' again tonight, and as i wasn't very far, i started back at the beginning again. as i read, i found this:

"how can we contrive to be at once astonished at the world and yet at home in it? how can this queer cosmic town, with its many-legged citizens, with its monstrous and ancient lamps, how can this world give us at once the fascination of a strange town and the comfort and honor of being our own town?"

when you hold these up to Peter's words, "Dear friends, I urge you, as aliens and strangers in world, to abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul," (1 Peter 2:11), it's easy to understand how so many people who love God can get caught up in temporal thinking. this world is all we've ever known. It's all we've ever seen. it is far too easy to forget that there is another world coming.

i am always amazed when i meet someone who has never been out of canada. it amazes me that someone could be satisfied living a life without seeing the rest of the world we live in. like being given a whole yard to play in and only staying in one corner. i realize that for some people, it's just being content where they are, and perhaps i am too much like my father, in that i am always wanting to go somewhere...anywhere! but it seems impossible to me that there will ever be a day when there is no where in the world where i will want to go (even if it is simply calgary to see my little people!)

but how does one remember that this world, although all we can see with our eyes, is only a fragment of our existence? that is my question for tonight. and for tonight, my only answer is that i have to do it on a minute by minute basis. for this moment, i choose to remember that there is more than i can see. for this moment i will choose to listen to God's heart instead of the other clamoring voices. for this moment... may my heart's desires always mirror those of my God.


home again

tonight i am back home after spending four days in calgary for john & cathy's wedding, and i cannot decide if it is a good thing, or otherwise.

of course, being back to work tomorrow will be good, although, given the hyper-activity of the last few days, i am feeling a bit ill-prepared for what is surely awaiting me. but, much to my chagrin, derek seems to be right...it gets harder to leave the kids every time i head back home. there really is nothing else in my world like the smile on nicky's face when he sees me & yells 'aunt suzi!'

how is it possible to have your heart pulled in so many different directions?

once again, however, rilke has summed up my life with his poetry, and with this, i will head off to sleep:
Out of infinite longings rise
finite deeds like weak fountains,
falling back just in time and trembling.
And yet, what otherwise remains silent,
our happy energies—show themselves
in these dancing tears.


happy august!

how happy am i that it is august? how immensely excited am i that i put the months of september & october in my planner today? how incredibly tired am i of heat & humidity? the answers to all these questions are off the charts. and i don't even care anymore how many death threats i get for this...I WISH IT WAS FALL!!

i've never been good at the whole waiting thing, or, to be honest, the whole concept of patience. the act (or seeming 'nonact') seems like just so much procrastination & laziness. but i am slowly learning just exactly what kind of hard work waiting really is. it's not passive. it's not lazy. quite the opposite.

it is remaining where you need to be when all you want to do is run away. it's taking the time to grow and prepare for what will one day come, without the promise of knowing when that day will come. it's actually believing that the elusive day will indeed come, when all you can see around you is the same thing you saw yesterday...two weeks ago...last year...

maybe, waiting is even more draining than moving. perhaps that explains my tiredness.

good night.

the best picture ever!

for all who know & love wes,
here is the best picture ever!


An alternative...

Connexions P4-5 Header?

my tree

let the peasants rejoice! for the first time in a week i actually slept through the night! woo hoo!

in honor of this most joyous occasion, i thought i would share my tree with you.

on a completely different note, is it possible to be content while your heart desires to be somewhere else? how does one reconcile the desires of the heart with the parameters of waiting?

why are there always more questions?


things not to do when you cannot sleep at 3am

1. make/drink coffee.
2. clean the bathroom.
3. try to read anything written before 1900.
4. (attempt to) balance your checkbook.
5. look up statistics about how people die if they do not sleep.

while some of these things may seem obvious enough, my recent bout with a severe lack of sleep has had me try all manner of things, none of which were done well...with the possible exception of the making coffee, but i'm fairly certain that that only made the problem worse.

in the truest sense of hope, i will go to bed now. good night.



don't worry...

...this won't be another, 'i hate summer & all is unwell in the world until the snow arrives' tirade. but the fact that it is summer, and at times unbearably hot, for some reason, makes writing all that much more difficult a dark, blustery day, good cup of coffee, and sweater weather somehow makes me feel more myself.

that being said, i have a tendancy in these summer months, to skim over the top of life in an effort to get as quickly to fall as possible. as if, not really living the moments will make them go by so much quicker. basically, i become the antithesis of thoreau's desire to 'live deep and suck the marrow out of life.'

well, last night, when i wasn't even looking for it, that all changed, with the reading of a blog by someone i hadn't even heard of before. in his blog, mr. berryman talks about beauty, and basically what it means to those of us trapped in a materialistic, consumer, busy society. take a few minutes & read it. you won't be sorry.


"We are a culture of glancers. I include myself in that assessment, and frankly find it both hard to believe and incredibly disappointing that I have given away so much of my life to the impoverishment of spending days merely glancing. We need to look. To see. To engage deeply."

there is so much power in what he says, but i have to admit, that as beautiful as the whole thing is, the thing that caught me most was the last line of his blog, "...trying to wake up..." in many ways i feel as though i've been asleep for a long time, if not asleep, then the place where you're so tired, that you can barely remember what you had to do through a day, let alone what you wanted to do.

crazy, when you stop to think about it.



i know i say this every year, but let's just get it over with: i hate summer. i hate heat. i hate humidity. {end of tantrum}

maybe it's the heat. maybe it's something else, but i want to write...i feel as though there is something that i need to say...but as i sit here, there is nothing.

perhaps what i really need is sleep.


paying attention

wow, it's been way too long since i've written here. time really does fly, whether you're having fun or not...and the sad reality is, that if you don't pay attention, too many days can go by before you even realize you haven't spoken to that friend, read a book, or written a word.

what's happened since i last wrote? hmm... i have a new nephew, a little red-headed dragon named Jayden who has stolen my heart. i got to meet him in may...as well as hang out with my megan & my nicholas, all pieces of my heart.
apart from that, nothing really momentous (that i can think of). oh, i found a new favorite poem. it's called, 'Monet Refuses the Operation,' by Lisel Mueller. it's been a long time since i was so moved by a poem.

Doctor, you say there are no haloes
around the streetlights in Paris
and what I see is an aberration
caused by old age, an affliction.
I tell you it has taken me all my life
to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels,
to soften and blur and finally banish
the edges you regret I don't see,
to learn that the line I called the horizon
does not exist and sky and water,
so long apart, are the same state of being.
Fifty-four years before I could see
Rouen cathedral is built
of parallel shafts of sun,
and now you want to restore
my youthful errors: fixed
notions of top and bottom,
the illusion of three-dimensional space,
wisteria separate
from the bridge it covers.
What can I say to convince you
the Houses of Parliament dissolves
night after night to become
the fluid dream of the Thames?
I will not return to a universe
of objects that don't know each other,
as if islands were not the lost children
of one great continent. The world
is flux, and light becomes what it touches,
becomes water, lilies on water,
above and below water,
becomes lilac and mauve and yellow
and white and cerulean lamps,
small fists passing sunlight
so quickly to one another
that it would take long, streaming hair
inside my brush to catch it.
To paint the speed of light!
Our weighted shapes, these verticals,
burn to mix with air
and change our bones, skin, clothes
to gases. Doctor,
if only you could see
how heaven pulls earth into its arms
and how infinitely the heart expands
to claim this world, blue vapor without end.

how brilliant is that? seriously!


frog jokes

at 5:55pm today i will officially be 41 years old.

it hardly seems possible, especially since i can still channel 11 and 14 year old suzi with such ease. but seriously, my head cannot shake the feeling that OLD people are in their early 40's, so therefore i surely cannot be!

[Note: to those of my friends who may be older than me, do not take the above line as a slight in any way. if you are my friend, then i don't believe you are a day older than 20 either!]

my survival today lies in the hands of Madeleine L'Engle, who wrote, "The great thing about getting older is that you don't lose all the other ages you've been." i don't have to stop being 16 year old suzi who refuses to wear a coat. or 13 year old me telling amazingly bad frog jokes. or the 31 year old suzi who was not afraid to take a huge leap into the unknown. or my 40 year old version, who lived two lifelong dreams, visiting paris and taking a train trip in Ukraine.

so today, i will choose not to look at it as losing a year, but gaining another. who knows what 41 will hold? maybe this will be the year i get to new york city. or write the book. or fall in love.

this morning i received an e-card from a friend, and in it she wrote that she hoped i would appreciate the beauty and magnificence in the journey of the next year.

that is my prayer for today.


not alone enough to be holy...

how can one help but be moved in the face of genius? This is found in Rilke's "Book of Hours: Love Poems to God":

I am too alone in the world, and yet not alone enough
to make every hour holy.
I am too small in the world, and yet not tiny enough
just to stand before you like a thing,
dark and shrewd.
I want my will, and I want to be with my will
as it moves towards deed;
and in those quiet, somehow hesitating times,
when something is approaching,
I want to be with those who are wise
or else alone.

nothing more need be said.


a much-needed kick in the butt...

years ago, i regularly read Oswald Chamber's classic devotional, My Utmost For His Highest, and regularly [and by regularly, i mean daily], my friend Oswald kicked me in the butt spiritually.

this morning, as i sit here in calgary, the fact that i did not bring a devotional book with me, i found my old friend online, and read today's entry. here it is.

"I will very gladly spend and be spent for you;"
2 Corinthians 12:15

When the Spirit of God has shed abroad the love of God in our hearts, we begin deliberately to identify ourselves with Jesus Christ's interests in other people, and Jesus Christ is interested in every kind of man there is. We have no right in Christian work to be guided by our affinities; this is one of the biggest tests of our relationship to Jesus Christ. The delight of sacrifice is that I lay down my life for my Friend, not fling it away, but deliberately lay my life out for Him and His interests in other people, not for a cause. Paul spent himself for one purpose only - that he might win men to Jesus Christ. Paul attracted to Jesus all the time, never to himself. "I am made all things to all men, that I might by all means save some."

When a man says he must develop a holy life alone with God, he is of no more use to his fellow men: he puts himself on a pedestal, away from the common run of men. Paul became a sacramental personality; wherever he went, Jesus Christ helped Himself to his life. Many of us are after our own ends, and Jesus Christ cannot help Himself to our lives. If we are abandoned to Jesus, we have no ends of our own to serve. Paul said he knew how to be a "door-mat" without resenting it, because the mainspring of his life was devotion to Jesus. We are apt to be
devoted, not to Jesus Christ, but to the things which emancipate us spiritually. That was not Paul's motive. "I could wish my self were accursed from Christ for my brethren" - wild, extravagant - is it? When a man is in love it is not an exaggeration to talk in that way, and Paul is in love with Jesus Christ.
there is so much in here, that i hardly know where to begin. okay, so maybe i do know where to begin: "We have no right in Christian work to be guided by our affinities; this is one of the biggest tests of our relationship to Jesus Christ." Ouch. How often do i even come close to passing this test? Has there ever been a day when i was completely free of my own agenda? If there has been, i cannot recall it. even when during missions,there i am with all my demands.

"If we are abandoned to Jesus, we have no ends of our own to serve." This seems so elusive, having no ends of my own, but i have to work towards this. i have to learn to serve whether or not the people i am serving appreciate, acknowledge or accept it. i must learn to love and to always hope when i am dealing with people. i must push past my tendancy to be hopelessly jaded.

may Paul's attitude be reflected in me...


a new friend...

last night, quite unexpectedly, i discovered a poet who was unknown to me, and while our acquaintance is quite new, already his words have made an impact on my life.

here are some such words:

A Ritual To Read To Each Other

If you don't know the kind of person I am
and I don't know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.

For there is many a small betrayal in the mind,
a shrug that lets the fragile sequence break
sending with shouts the horrible errors of childhood
storming out to play through the broken dyke.

And as elephants parade holding each elephant's tail,
but if one wanders the circus won't find the park,
I call it cruel and maybe the root of all cruelty
to know what occurs but not recognize the fact.

And so I appeal to a voice, to something shadowy,
a remote important region in all who talk:
though we could fool each other, we should consider--
lest the parade of our mutual life get lost in the dark.

For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the signals we give--yes or no, or maybe--
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.
~William Stafford
"For it is important that awake people be awake..." so many of my struggles are rooted in my ability to not pay attention to what is going on around and within me.

it's time to wake up.


the choice

it is 6:39am. and while i have only been conscious today for a short time, i am already less than impressed with some of the thoughts that have been running through my head.

i want to kill the incredibly loud and annoying dog upstairs...
i've worried about what i will wear today...
...trust me, the list goes on, i won't bore you.

then i sat down here, and right next to my computer i left a book open last night. in this book, Simone Weil is walking through the Lord's prayer, going into detail through each phrase. This is what she says about the, "give us this day our deaily bread..." part:

"Christ...is always there at the door of our souls, wanting to enter in, though he does not force our consent. if we agree to his entry, he enters; directly we cease to want him, he is gone. we cannot bind our will today for tomorrow; we cannot make a pact with him that tomorrow he will be within us, even in spite of ourselves. our consent to his presence is the same as his presence. consent is an act; it can only be actual, that is to say in the present. we have not been given a will that can be applied to the future..."
i needed to hear this today. i don't think i would ever consciously say, 'okay Jesus, it's time for you to go, i've got other things i need to do now.' but unknowingly, i say it many times a day, with my attitude, the things i choose to let my mind dwell on, the times i choose to worry about what can only be considered trivial in light of eternity, and the list goes on.

i cannot worry about tomorrow, or even later today. i only have this moment to exercise my will and let Jesus in, and i only have this moment not to choose to ask him to leave. thoreau said, "i wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to put to rout all that was not life and not when i had come to die, discover that i had not lived.” this is my prayer for this moment.


dreaming in french

i want to go back to paris.
i want to start my day by walking past notre dame on my way to the boulangerie.
i want to visit the l'orangerie. the rodin museum. the musee d'orsay. st chappell. the pantheon.
i want to get up early in the morning, and walk the streets of the latin quarter amidst the parisians on their way to work and school.
i want to rediscover the person i was when i was there.


flying into the wind

yesterday i saw a bird trying to make its way to a telephone wire. the wind was working against the poor guy, and he was flapping his wings madly in an effort to go nowhere.

sadly, this is how i have been feeling lately. being the beginning of a new year, it's naturally a time to look at life & evaluate, and i honestly don't like all that i see. when it comes to living a holy life, my life is still more of a 'don't' than a 'do'. there is still too much anger, pettiness and...well, me in me.

back to the bird...had he given up, stopped working to make his way to a place to land, he would have fallen, probably right in front of my car, and it would have been over. the only way for him to live to was to not give up, even though at times progress was no where to be seen.

this is where i must live. i must continue to wrestle, struggle and fight for holiness, even when the enemy i am fighting is myself.

the alternative isn't an option.

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