Worship

Last night I wasn't sure I was going to make it to church today. There was snow to consider, I was very tired, and I wasn't really feeling like going to church and being social. I decided that if I woke up in time, I would go. Having gone to bed at two, I woke up at 3:30, 4:something, 6:30, 7:50, 8:30, and 9. This was enough of an answer to me, so I got up and made it to church about fifteen minutes late.

The worship was truly amazing. I only caught the second half of it, but I was completely drawn into the movement of the spirit. Everyone was singing with all of their hearts, some standing, some sitting, others dancing. I cried and cried with joy. Oddly enough, after worship, during the meet-and-greet time, I felt as if I was invisible. I couldn't get anyone's attention for an introduction or a greeting, so after some awkward wandering about and a few attempted hellos, I just returned to where I had been sitting. Then one of the pastors, who has known me for years, came up, said hello, and asked if I was with the woman sitting two seats down making some adjustments to her child's clothing. I was truly puzzled. How can a group of people that seemed so unified a few minutes before feel so foriegn and strange? Even so, I was glad that I went. We worship because God tells us to, and because we were made to do so. I believe that the worshipers are truly the beneficiaries, however.

Snow

I pulled out a journal that dates back to eleven years ago with the intent of reading a bit and then destroying it. I used to write. I used to write a lot. I never intended to write poetry; I just wrote what came out and it took the form that it wanted. Now writing is like pulling teeth -- my own teeth.

Here's what I wrote on January 7, 1996. I stood on a picnic table at one in the morning and allowed myself to fall backward into the snow. Then, the snow was two feet deep; now, it's three inches deep.

a fall of faith
somehow i passed through
without breaking
the surface and it
loved me
more the faster i ran i wanted
to go down
beneath the snow
because looking up
from down there,
the sky moves so quickly

Bombay Hook

Today, for a little while, I immersed myself in the beauty of desolation. In the last hours of daylight, under a complex sky falling quickly, I passed among bare trees and snarls of dormant bushes and vines, and amidst fingers and bodies of water. The air was quiet as only winter air can be, except for ducks and geese, whose corporate launch into flight echoed thunderously as I trod nearby. As I drove home from Bombay Hook, the sunset held onto the day tencaciously, and well after sunset, reds and oranges continued to touch the deepening dusk. During such times I feel most myself. These are times when thought, feeling, and environment begin to merge, and the earth seems to move with me while unconcerned for me. I then wish that everyone I loved were there with me to experience this uneventful consummation; or, rather, I wish I could lead them there individually and then disappear so they can experience without the distraction of me. There are subtleties to being alone that cannot be shared. There are stories that have no words -- only color and emotion that tumble together. There is brokenness that cannot be fixed, but must be left alone, to hopefully be healed in its own time.


from the observation tower 


shearness pool

Bull's Blood

Tonight I stopped by the local liquor store to pick up some cheap red wine because I wanted to drink something, and I'm trying to cut back on the beer. I noticed that they had in stock a number of bottles of Bull's Blood, a Hungarian wine from Egar. It's decent, though not complicated, and it's cheap — $5.49 a bottle, so I bought two. As I opened it, I discovered that the cork was dry, and it crumbled as I removed it. The wine turned out to be musty and corky. This happens to a lot of wines, as I understand, so I don't blame the wine, but it's still a bit of a disappointment. So far 2005 has started out this way.

The year opened seemingly well — I decided to set certain goals for myself, and I'm sticking to them, but there are some impurities that I need to contend with.

First, there's the troubling situation of my mother's depression, which has robbed her of her job and has filled her with concerns that she can't work her way through on her own. With the help of a friend I've provided her with some recommendations for counseling; she's already begun medication. As someone who generally keeps her less than happy feelings to herself, she doesn't want counseling, but my sister, my father, and I have convinced her to give it a shot. I'm praying for her release from this condition so that she can become herself again and get on with life.

Second, there's the death of my business partner's father, which has shaken him and his family up, and has inevetably caused some problems with work. This provided me with the opportunity to see my ex-girlfriend, his sister, for the first time since before we broke up roughly two years ago. Though this went smoothly, it's difficult to see her after so long, and it brings back feelings and nonspecific memories of our time together. She said while we were together that she could never be my friend if we broke up, so I have little hope to be her friend, but I'd like to be in touch with her and know whether or not she's doing well. I'll try.

Then there are my personal demons who sit on me and tell me lies, like the kid down the street used to when I was young. There's nothing quite like being unable to trust my own feelings, to have to puzzle every moment and every response out, and try to catch glimpses of truth. Feelings of being broken and empty, like a beer bottle tossed on the roadside, mingle with fear of hope and with unreasonable hopes and desires. I want nothing more than to drink and forget about it all for a while, to feel silly happiness bubble up within me, to indulge in those false hopes, and to sleep. At night I dream of debris-laden water that carries me wherever it wants, which is nowhere in particular. Right now, all of my feeling seems to have leeched out of me so I cannot continue writing.

There will be better days, when I am not so focused on myself, and I am doing good things.

New?

No year arrives without the question of relolutions arrising. Generally, knowing that they're statistically bound to be broken, I make no such resolutions. I have made some -- two years ago I quit smoking on new year's day. This resolution was decimated five months later by a breakup and a trip to Atlantic City for a dual-bachelor party.

This year I will make no resolutions. I will , however, try to set a goal for myself. Yes, just one goal. I figure that simplicity is the best path to success. After obliterating my thoughts last night, I've managed to cultivate a few new ones today. It wasn't the 68-degree, sunny weather on this fine new year's day that inspired me. Rather, it was the movie I watched in my weary repose earlier this evening.

In the Lord of the Rings Trilogy, Sam dedicates his life to helping his friend Frodo accomplish an important goal. While Frodo was the one who had to carry the burden, Sam's assistance truly made it possible for Frodo to accomplish his mission. I feel that this is my lot in life -- to be a helper. I returned from Cincinnati over three years ago with the goal of helping my parents. I joined my business partner in the business he was building in order to help him do this. I feel that such is my spiritual gift, and I should be spending more of my free time helping people.

When I try to live for myself, I fuck up my life royally. I have no wife and children to whom to dedicate my life. I have difficulties with the church and with figuring out how to live as a Christian. The author of the book of James says that religion that is acceptable to God is taking care of widows and orphans, whom I take to mean people who need help in this life. My goal this year is to find a way that I can give time to helping people. This may be through the church, or it may not. I haven't yet found a church in which I feel I belong, but this goal may help.

My thinking is that it's not easy to simply live life as I ought. Resolving to do so would most likely end unsuccessfully. I need more specific goals, goals that will place me in a position to live a useful and valuable life. These thoughts aren't actually new to me, but deciding how to address them is. So here's to a new year with a new sense of purpose.