A Summer’s Night Poem

The bright, orange, luminous canopy

Reflects the black shadows

            And imaginary

Ghosts of a black, black night.

            We’ll toast to this damned cold night.

Some sheets and a stick,

A candle and a Bic,

Set a fire to this black night’s sky.

The lush, green blades of the shrubbery

Will lay down, bowing to the royalty,

            Of the frogs and their smooth webbed feet.

            The king and his city will meet.

Some sun soaks the ground,

I’m squinting at the sound,

            Of the summer crashin’ into my eyes.

This is a bad day to be a salesman. No one answers their phone on the day before a holiday. Leaving my bored out of my mind in an 8×8 cubicle. I am excited for the weekend. I have two friends coming into town, which will be very fun! I don’t have specific plans, but I am sure we will figure something out.

What are your extended weekend plans?

Pretty remarkable:

As Mark said, the Mile High Flea Market is rather hot. Never-the-less, the four of us trekked out and conquered it. I would say it was a productive Saturday with some beautiful people:

I got a calculator watch:

Mel and Judi got some Glasses:

and Mark got Heat-stroke:

(we are cute)

First Snow

White snow against a white sky

            Looks like a million little lightning bolts

            Falling down gracefully

On the pavement or some cracked skin.

            It seeps into our pores like

            Some undesired chores.

May snow falls on all of us.

We don’t want you, so take the bus

Anywhere but here.

I am hoping this weekend will include:

• Moto-cross tourney
• City-prayer
• Hand-holding
• Bass playing
• Reading
• Dancing
• Snuggling
• BBQing
• Playing washers
• Writing
• Rush-worship (the band)

It shall be lovely.

We were having a discussion over at Evan’s blog about theology and stuff regarding Christianity in general. For some reason, the subject of the Post Modern/Emergent Church came up. I find the whole subject to be really interesting. Not because of the subject at hand, but more so the church’s reaction to new thoughts and ideals.

Authors like Brian McLaren, Donald Miller and Rob Bell are considered three of the main writers for the movement. Their books are heavily centered upon the grace side of things along with some counter-church-culture theologies regarding heaven, morals and other things.

Critics say that the movement skirts around issues that have been debated amongst Religious scholars for years and years. The more “Fundamentalist” crowd thinks these authors are twisting “God’s inherent Word”. I find it interesting because it seems like both sides of the issue are extremely biting and ungraceful in the way they carry out the dialog to find truth. I think that the Emergent church has a lot of unanswered questions, and unfinished thoughts. However, I also think that the fundamentalist church has passed over these believers and not taken a look to see where these questions are coming from, and helping to seek resolution.

I figured since this subject seems to come up in EVERY theological discussion I have, it would be nice to have a blog entry devoted to it. Vent your thoughts, frustrations and concerns. I just ask that you be graceful and non-attacking.

Okay, so this might sound a bit childish; for the last few weeks I have been working on my handwriting. The story of my handwriting dates back to 5th grade:

It was a typical winter day in Park River, ND (where I was born). I got to school early, so we decided to go and play outdoors for a few minutes. My friends and I had the bright idea to cover the slide in snow so it would go faster. Boy, did it work! Unfortunately, the rush soon faded and we needed something more. I decided to be the first to attempt going down the slippery slide on my feet, “snowboard style”. My form was pretty graceful and swift. I made it down to the last couple inches of the slide on my feet. As I was rocketing down the slide, I came to a revelation: “I am going way too fast and don’t know how to get off!” To sum it up, I ended up falling backwards right at the end of the slide, breaking my wrist (in both bones) on the edge.

Honestly, this is a pretty typical event for a lot of 8 year old boys. Life happens. How does this relate to me almost 20 years later? Well that year was when we really worked on handwriting and cursive in school. I had a broken right wrist. You do the math! (or English?). I am pretty sure my handwriting didn’t progress at all from 5^th grade to recent. It was really awkward and gross looking.

Lately I have decided to hone in on it. I have been writing things in my moleskin, letters to Mel and just random stories while I am in meetings at work. I think it is really starting to look better. Why the sudden interest? I was thinking about how some day I will be old, have a family, and they will look back at my writings. I really want them to look like they belong to an adult!

Are you happy with your handwriting?

Prayer for Messiah

His blood on my arm is warm as a bird
his heart in my hand is heavy as lead
his eyes through my eyes shine brighter than love
O send out the raven ahead of the dove

His life in my mouth is less than a man
his death on my breath is harder than stone
his eyes through my eyes shine brighter than love
O send out the raven ahead of the dove

O send out the raven ahead of the dove
O sing from your chains where you’re chained in a cave
your eyes through my eyes shine brighter than love
your blood in my ballad collapes the grave

O sing from your chains where you’re chained in a cave
your eyes through my eyes shine brighter than love
your heart in my hand is heavy as lead
your blood on my arm is warm as a bird

O break from your branches a green branch of love
after the raven had died for the dove

-Leonard Cohen

Last night, I sat on the steps of my patio and continued my reading of Everything is Illuminated. My butt was sore from sitting on the concrete, yet I couldn’t move an inch for fear of missing out on something. I am really enjoying this book so far. It’s extremely funny and beautiful all at once. It reminds me of living in Vladimir, Russia when I was young. It feels good to come home and not just sit in front of the television

What books are you currently reading?