love, love, love?

It sucks, doesnt it?
a) You know, when you know that someone has lied to you, but they dont know that you know, but you know because you've caught them in the act?

It sucks, it really does.
b) When someone takes something you've told them in confidence and uses it against you.

It sucks. Sucks, sucks, sucks.
c) The person(s) that you've come to rely on the most can brush you off and make you feel as important as dust.

It sucks.

The response?

a) Become bitter. Fester rancorous and evil thoughts towards this person, and dont, by any leap, bound or stretch of the imagination assume the forgiving position.

b) Make like a Pokémon species, and ditto. Do exactly what they did to you. An eye for an eye may make the world blind, but at least everyone will be on level playing ground, right?

c) Play dumb, but at the most unsuspecting times and in the most innocent ways, throw in jabs, kicks, punches, daggers, guns and axes where you can.






There is another option, but its not very popular and most people opt out.
I'm sure you dont really want to hear it, the above options sound pretty dandy, but I'll list it anyway.

d) Love.

Love, love, love. Love, and then do it again. Love the people that lie to you, love them like you want to be loved. Love the ones who hurt you, make you feel worthless; love them because we are all worthy of being loved. Love. Love yourself. Love, because you are loved, valued, worthy and important.
Love the Lord your GOD, maker, manufacturer and provider of love.


Love. I told you its not a popular option, because it doesnt come in a paper bag with fries and a coke.
But just so you know, its an option.

3am

Hey there,
it's Barbara, can you see me?
Maybe put your glasses on, that might help.
Better?
No, its Barbara.
Barbara.
Remember me?
Barbara.

Yeah, that one.

It's 2am. Sorry, I know I'm about an hour early, but better early than never, right? I've come to visit you, make sure you're alright, feed the cat, water the cactus, be your company. I know you dont really want me here now, you'd much rather someone who was punctual. But every now and then, I just want to check and see if you're actually still alive.

I find you're much closer to being dead than the last time I was here, but I guess I think that every time I come see you. You're usually on the verge of death.

I guess I also visit you because we share certain qualities (that I feel rather foolish for sharing with someone like you). You're usually lonely, and when I visit you, I'm made aware of the fact that I am lonely too. And you dont really sleep, another thing you make me see in myself. And really? You dont have much of a life. Neither do I when I visit you, we just sit, with two and four around. Sometimes your neighbours make me uncomfortable, they're always there.

I've been talking for so long, I'm almost on time. Your time. I hate that it's always about you. For once, I think I'm going to just leave. I know you wont die tonight, your neighbour is always two kind to let me think you've died. You'll be fine. You'll make it to tomorrow. Maybe I'll check up on you then.

Have a good hour. 

Méfiance [mefjɑ̃s]

Often, I am skeptical of those emails that tell me I've won a lot of money and my personal info is necessary.

Often, I do not trust that man that pulls up in the big, windowless van and offers me candy and a ride home.

Often, I cannot believe that the knives advertised on televison will stay sharp for the rest of eternity.









And sometimes, I think that my distrust in such cases may be a good thing.

























But sometimes, distrust comes easier than trust does.
Sometimes, we dont trust, when really, we should.

























Often, I think it's too easy to treat friends, family and even God as if they were simply infomercials on late night tv, or an email that shows up in our junk mail.

Claims of love, fellowship and truth are all too easy to pass off as empty words, false promises, or perhaps even manipulative tactics to cause our demise or downfall.



Of course, they cant be trusted.







And so, we try to filter these things on our own, by ourselves, of our own human wisdom.
















Sometimes, we suceed.
Sometimes, we fail.


Often, I fail.
And when my filters fail me, I stop filtering, and shut down anything that may be coming my way.
Because sometimes, distrust comes easier than trust does.
Sometimes, we build walls, delete accounts, switch the chanel, we do anything to escape, when really, we should just trust.
















When Your wisdom seems like foolishness to the world God, make me a fool for You.
Help me to be wise and learn how to trust.

Is It Broken?

I feel helpless.
God, maybe I'm using it wrong. Is there a certain way to hold it or... how is this supposed to look?

What do you mean?

Always the questions with you, as if you didnt know. You know what I'm talking about. Is there a lever I've got to pull?

I'm afraid it doesnt work that way.

So, no buttons or activation fees?

Not this time. That's not generally how I work.

Well, you know, I'm not a fan. Why did you have to make this 'love' deal so hard?

What do you mean my child?

God, you might be really big and able to make things happen and maybe you can see all the reasons for life. But me? I'm stuck here trying to live it. I cant fix anything. And this tool you gave me? Love? It must be broken. It doesnt work.

Really? Go on.

So what? I love people. They dont get it. They dont want it. It doesnt fix their pain or make them care anymore. Why do I bother? Love? It's just another way to tire me out at the end of the day.

Oh. So, you dont need love?

Well, of course I do. But it doesnt seem to be that way for everyone. People throw it right back in my face, reject me! Why do I even bother to try?

For the same reason that my Son died. Rejection of something so precious isn't a new thing child. You love because you have hope. The rest? It's all, every bit of it, in my hands.

Are you sure you dont let some things slip out of your hands? I know your hands are pretty big, but what about the ones that fall? What about the ones that cant see you? Aren't you big enough for them to see you? Where's their hope?

My hands made the moons and the stars, the galaxies that fill the universe. Those same hands made every fibre of your being. My hands hold each one, old and new, from the very first, to the very last of creation. But love? No, I would not move my hand to make someone love me. That is the gamble child. Love inspires hope. Hope inspires love. And so, my beautiful child, you love, because I love. And from that love, you have hope.

You have this way of being really confusing sometimes. Sometimes, as in a lot of times. So, love? Sounds great, how do I use again? No manuals or love-by-numbers pages?

Ha ha, no love-by-numbers. But a manual? Sort of. It's more examples of how to, how not to. The idea is to follow, to listen to me, through prayer, other believers and my Word... your 'manual'. 

So I did miss a memo!

No, no its that book sitting under that pile of clothes you were going to fold last week. You know the one I'm talking about.

Oh.

I really was going to fold those clothes you know.

Trust me, I know.







a little bit about hope:
1 Corinthians 13.7
Titus 1.2
1 Thessalonians 1.3
Colossians 1.27
Romans 15.13
Romans 5.2b-8


a little bit about love
1 John 4.7-21
Ephesians 4.17b-19
Galatians 5.14
1 Corinthians 13.4-8a
Romans 12.9
Zephaniah 3.17

a little bit about both
2 Thessalonians 2.16-17
Galatians 5.4-6
2 Corinthians 5.11-21

A Little Mud Hut Called Home

Every day, its always the same, its always the same thing
Get up, get to work, gotta make your way

But hey, its got me wonderin', if someday, everything could chaange

And we could go, and move real slow, cause I kinda like the idea of a little mud hut called home

And now, tell me how, tell me how to be,
content always going not knowing which way to go

Even so, I'd like to hope, that someday, everything could chaange

And we could go, and move real slow, cause I kinda like the idea of a little mud hut called home

We could go, and finally leave this ever moving, never stopping, self evolved, self involved mediocrity
And we could know, and finally see, that fast, fast, fast, fast isnt the only way for humanity, to be...

And we could go, and move real slow, cause I kinda like the idea of a little mud hut called home 

Does this make me...

Does it make me weird that I like stale cheesies and cold Kraft Dinner? There's something about those certain fake cheese products that just tastes better the day after. I dont mind if it does make me weird, because I can accept the truth, but really, they do taste better.

Does it make me a nerd that I like to play certain computer games? I dont think so. Since when is Zelda a nerdy game? Warcraft III is pushing it, yes I understand, but still, lots of people play it! And okay, if you look at my youtube account, it will recommend certain cheats for Zelda (because I have looked up one or two things) but just because I looked up one or two things really doesnt make me a nerd right?

I dont think its wrong to try to feel justified here. Work with me.

Pickles go great with a grilled cheese sandwich (ketchup naturally fits in there too). So, why not grill the pickles right in?

When I use a knife and fork, I dont feel the need to confine them specifically to one hand. I say let's have fun and switch things up. I will cut with my right OR left hand and do the same for eating.

I dont have icons on my desktop. I see no need to justify this.

Some people find it odd that I carry bandaids in my purse/wallet. I carry batman bandaids and also bright colourful ones too. What if I meet a kid with a boo boo? What if I meet Gerard Butler and he has a boo boo? I bank on the side of safe rather than sorry.

I like the greyhound. Even though it takes me three days to get anywhere worth getting and there have been some sketchy incidents in the last year, I still like. You get a chance to see the country, meet interesting (sometimes weird) people, and you get to learn all the different ways to overcome being uncomfortable on a greyhound as you try to sleep.

It's not weird to sit down on the side of the street corner and play your guitar for money. I think it adds a nice ambiance, and I really dont care if 3 days ago somebody spit, smoked or wiped their shoes on that same spot. I can always wash my pants.

I like snow. A lot. Only people from BC (where they dont understand the joys of 8 months of snow) dont get this.

I'm Only Second Hand Smoke

I've been demoted 
Not that I mind, I dont need the control 
I'm second rate 
It was my turn to fly, now I'm stuck on the ground 
I've been forgotten 
Like a wave passing by, I'm now the foam on the shore 
Not so important 
There's none like humilty without the humiliation 

I was once the beer, now I'm a broken bottle 
I once was the mirror, now I'm a shattered reflection 
I expressed the tear, now I'm dried up and done 
I once was the fear, now I'm hollywoods re-run 

Who wants the second-hand smoke, 
when the cigarette has a better choke?