The Extent of Affection

Observations of an Elderly Couple at a Coffee Shop.

They shared the same table. They shared the same drink. They shared the same thoughts.

This is the extent of their affection...

Sharing.

How many kisses do they have between them?

I'd imagine more than harsh words.

How many times have they exchanged themselves like they are exchanging 

sips from that same cup of coffee?

I'd imagine more than they shut each other out, separating one another

by walls of selfish intent.

How many times have they desired themselves over one another?

Never.

Because they understand that they are not their own to desire.

They belong to each other.

This is the extent of their affection...

Sharing.

Over China

Appreciating Poetry for It's Own Sake

I made a new friend last night. His name is John. 

John is a poet and I met him while he was conducting a discussion and poetry reading from a book that he wrote. 

A Year In The Life of Empty.

That's the name of his book. 

He was at a local coffee shop and he was holding the discussion for those who were either not familiar with his work, or were inquisitive to the meaning behind it.

It's always exciting to meet another writer who has a passion for creating art with words, and John has a unique and creative perspective from which he draws his ideas and forms his craft. There are not many poets around, nor are there many who appreciate poetry for the art form that it is.

Many people are lost when it comes to metaphors, and many take them too literally. Some try and think too hard, over analyzing the simplicity of the piece. Others don't think at all, and just see words and broken sentences on paper. Both instances are tragic, and John understands this.

That's the reason he was holding the discussion last night at the coffee shop.

He and I talked for a bit. He read his material. I bought a copy of his book. Then we talked some more.

I asked him if I could post one of his poems on my blog. He said yes. Maybe he was just being polite because I bought his book.

Still, he said yes. I'm sure we will have more conversations in the future.

Over China

climbed the sky last night, dark as pitch. scaled

the tallest tree, leaped open armed 

into ethereal ink and invisible, climbed invisible 

rungs, found each one right where 

it should be, and each star in hand I 

grappled, pulled myself up until I could 

see all the stars, stark without moon, earth

without sun, earth without me.

waited and waited until she hushed silver over 

the horizon, passing below.

hopped down onto her no- sound skin, left my

Tony Llama prints in her three inch dust, ran

scary and barefooted into the dark side and back,

drove the buggy all around, waved

the flag for folks to see, but they didn't see, I'm

sure.

it was only me. descended back upon the tree.

sat looking for a very long, silent time,

silent as the moon in her mind, dusty feet

reminding me that I had left my boots 

over China.

by J.E. Glaze

From A Year in the Life of Empty

pg. 82

Cars, Planes and Deathbeds

Learning to Love in Spite of Pain




I'm no fan of goodbyes.

I've had my fare share of them, from airports to driveways, to deathbeds.

It's a funny thing though. Even when we realize that goodbyes are inevitable, there is still something that we look forward to in the process of bidding farewell. There's still that last moment hug where you cling to one another in mutual affection, longing for time to freeze and the moment to last forever; or maybe that final kiss where lips meet and emotions bond, only for the strand to be severed a few moments later by the rush of time; or maybe it's that final conversation at their bedside, when the hour glass seems to have opened itself wider, turning its daunting grains against you, siding with fate.

I have experienced all, in one fashion or another.

And I have come to realize that the part I hate the most is about 10 minutes after that person has actually left. That's the part where I am sitting there alone, wondering. That's where reality strikes like a home run connection, and I begin to understand that the game is over and this one is heading for the fence with no hope of being caught or returned.

It's that moment when the plane is leaving the strip, the car is rounding the corner down the street, or the casket is lowered into the ground.

It can be moments such as these that form our views on life and love.

We are all wounded in these instances of vulnerability. Some are affected by these wounds in a way that creates in them a fear of pain. These are the people who decide never to love again, for the distraught of losing takes too great a toll on them. They avoid deep affection from that point on, gradually growing distant from what was once familiar, until they seemingly disappear all together.

Others accept the pain and allow it to become a part of them. They grow to believe that the pain itself is inevitable, and so they end of expecting it in every aspect of their relationships. This simply creates numbness, and soon they are able to move from one pain to another without any sense of feeling. They make decisions based off of the end result being painful, and so they are always prepared for it. These people in turn, end up causing others even greater pain, for they act on selfish impulses to enjoy what pleases them, since they believe pleasure will not last anyway. 

And still others experience the pain and they accept it with an understanding that it is not the final word on the subject. They know they are experiencing pain because they know that they have loved well, and they have been loved well. They allow the pain to grow in them a deeper appreciation and desire for love. This desire becomes selfless, because they understand that to love is to give. They are not afraid to give because they know that by giving, they only gain a greater desire to give more. 

This is not physical passion I am talking about.

This is sincerity. This is affection. This is friendship. This is charity and compassion. This is trust. This is communion.

I can personally say that I have been in all three stages listed above. I have allowed myself to fear the pain of goodbye, hindering me in creating long lasting relationships. I have believed that pain is inevitable and still decided to go forward in my selfish endeavors, causing pain to others once the time for goodbyes had actually come. And still, I have loved selflessly in the attempt to give myself as a friend and a companion, expecting nothing in return.

The first stage left me alone and bitter.

The second left me convicted and ashamed.

But the third left me satisfied and fulfilled.

Yes, I hate goodbyes, and yes I do believe that to an extent pain is inevitable at some point. But I also believe that you can choose how you respond to that pain. You can let it turn you into a bitter or ashamed individual depending on your circumstance or your situation; or you can appreciate it knowing that you gave everything you had to give and that you loved without limiting yourself.

Theology

I'd rather see the world in black and white

than have to depend on distorted colors.

Over embellished thoughts sound nice

but truth opens your eyes to honest details.

She says the sky is blue, he says the night is black.

In reality air has no color, yet we all see it 

for what we think is beautiful.

But few take time to learn heavens habits.

We are all meteorologists in our own mind:

"Looks like rain."

"No, it will be nice and sunny today."

"You might want a light jacket."

"No, it's not that cold outside."

We debate the forces of nature

in which we have no real understanding,

yet somehow we all feel justified in our own 

ability to predict.

We have taken our own colors and splattered them

all over God's design

We think we can paint pictures better than He.

Yet we don't realize that the true value of art

is not in the piece itself;

it's in the name of the artist. 

Christian Charades

It's Not about You

Growing up, I had the hardest time accepting compliments from others.

Being raised in a Christian home and brought up in the church, I easily learned how to make myself look good. People would compliment me on my character or they would compliment my parents on what a fine young man I was. As far as outward appearances went, they were right. I knew all of the right answers when it came to morality and peer pressure, I had a good knowledge of scripture and knew my way around the Bible pretty well. 

I was the poster child for purity in my youth group and I acted the role of a counselor for all of my friends. They would come to me with their problems and troubles, and I would offer them bits and pieces of advice from spiritual books that I had thumbed through or lines of wisdom I thought up in my head. It all sounded great. 

I was regarded as the kid who had his head on straight and his life on track.

And yet I hated receiving compliments from people about my character because I knew the truth about myself. I knew it was all a charade.

I knew about the things inside that they couldn't see. I knew about the thoughts I had when I lay in bed at night. I knew about all of the things I did in the dark when no one was around. I knew all of the evil desires that were in my heart, and I knew all of the crap that I told people about being pure was merely a cover up to make myself look good in their eyes.

People would remark how "spiritual" I was, and I couldn't even look them in the face because deep down I felt as if I was robbing them of their own words.

I felt like a slick oiled salesman who sold worthless products to sweet old ladies and the conviction was catching up to him at night.

You can't fake a relationship with someone. Either you love them or you don't. If you were only nice to a person while other people were around, but then you treated them like dirt when you were alone together, they wouldn't want to hang out with you because they'd know you for who you really are. Hypocrites have no friends.

They'd know you have no love for them because, if you did, it would be evident by your actions. 

I said I loved Jesus with my words, but my actions spoke differently.

Jesus talked about this all the time. 

John 14:21-25

Matthew 15:1-20

Matthew 7:17-23

I could go on and on with scripture, but I'll encourage you to find it for yourself.

You cannot truly accept Christ for who He is until you get over the desire to make yourself look good on your own.

I had to get to a place where I realized that life is not about me. That is a difficult place to be in. It's a desert where righteousness burns brighter than the sun, and it scorches the pride inside of you. And the only thing available to drink in that barren wasteland is humility. 

You will never be able to accept other people's compliments on your character until you receive true freedom in Christ by understanding that you are powerless on your own, and that life is not about you. Of course, receiving their compliments won't really matter that much to you anyway, because that's not the point.

The point is that you will be truly free because you will know that it's not you they see anymore - it's Him. 

Christmas Contest Recap

In Case You Missed It

In case you missed it, Colleen was this year's Christmas Sweater Contest Winner, taking home the prize pack with 27 of 51 votes! (emails included) 

Colleen showcasing her prize pack:
A stocking stuffed with -
D. Millers "A Million Miles in a Thousands Years
$15 Itunes Gift Card
$15 Stabucks Gift Card

I got this photo from her not too long ago, and wanted to share it with you guys.

Congratulations again, Colleen! 

All you other guys will have to bring the heat next year!

My Thought on 2012

I know what you're thinking...

Another year is coming to a close and it's time for a big resolution post or a sappy reflection on past 2011 events.

And normally you'd be right, if this was a typical online diary of a blog and I had nothing more important to do than to try and stimulate you into a slideshow of emotion.

The year 2011 was not necessarily the best year ever, and there is not a lot that I would want to reflect on. I'll admit it had it's moments. But it's mostly over now, so why try and reflect on something that I  have anxiously been counting down the days until it is over?
 

My friend Sara is visiting me right now, and we are about to go to the zoo. This is probably the highlight of the year. 

Okay, that's not true. But for some reason it feels like it. All of the good things that happened this year feel as if they occured ages ago, and all of the downer moments feel as if they happened this week. Why is that?

Why can't we hold onto the good feelings like we do the bad?

Anyway, that's not what I want to talk about today.

Today I would like to address the subject of:

SYRUP

This morning I had breakfast at my grandparents house with several of my cousins. And my friend Sara, of course. We couldn't have her visit without feeding her.

My grandmother made us all pancakes. And bacon. We are big on bacon. While I was slicing my pancakes into neat symmetrical pieces, my cousin (also named Sara) made a remark about how I don't like syrup on my pancakes.

This is not true. I do like syrup on my pancakes. At least I do now. When I was younger though, I did not. I would butter them up, slice them and eat them dry. Why would I do this? Because when I was younger, I had a relatively peculiar sense of taste, and I did not eat very many sweets. Syrup on pancakes was too rich for me. So I would butter them enough to where they were a little soggy, and them down them with a glass of O.J.

Of course, I did eventually succumb to the savory nectar. But it took a lot of persuasion. That, and some really bad pancakes. It doesn't matter how bad the pancake, syrup will always make them edible.

Some people like things a certian way because it is familiar and comfortable. They stay in their own little section of reality and limit themselves to what they know.


This is a touchy subject for me, because I can be one of those people. As I have established in previous posts, I am not a fan of change. However, I am learning that the key to changing is simply embracing a mindset of adaptation. Over-analytical people tend to scare themselves or talk themselves out of change because they think beyond the general realm of "what if" into a region of "worst case scenario".

These are the people who don't ride roller coasters until they are 20 years old, or don't have their first drink until they are 24 and alone by themselves in their apartment with a bottle of Smirnoff that they secretly purchased from the grocery store along with an enormous list of relatively healthy or necessary items.

Now, I'll admit I am guilty of the rollercoaster thing. But the drinking thing is different. I am only 23 and I, like a good law abiding citizen, had my first drink at 21. I think. Okay, maybe I just took a sip at 21. Well, now that I think about it, I was 22. I mean, I was 22 when I bought my first drink.

And before all of you church people freak out and label me, let me just state that I am not a fan of alcohol. Although I do plan to have a glass of wine over dinner this evening.

But anyway, back to the syrup thing. I like syrup now. But I had to get to a point where I was basically pushed to trying it and had to make myself like it. Now syrup is just second nature to my pancake craving. 

And I think this all ties in to what I have to say about 2012.

Don't be so over analytical that you miss out on truly enjoyable things. Don't try and imagine the end of your story before it begins. If you do, you will live through it looking for the chapter on comfort, and once you come to it, it won't last as long as you want it to. Once you pass that chapter, you will spend the rest of the time wishing you could go back and re-read it.

Just embrace the material as it comes. Don't be the person who later tries something and then kicks themselves for not trying it sooner. Allow yourself to live. Don't let your over analytical mind make all of your decisions for you, because it will talk you out of many opportunities.

At the same time, be discerning. Don't cast out all reason just for the sake of "living".

I did mention alcohol earlier in this post, but you will notice that I did not put it on my pancakes.

Be logical. Just don't over analyze the outcome of your story before you can see the details.

Young Love by Mat Kearney

An Album Overview

Today I am listening to Mat Kearney's new cd, Young Love. This was one of my Christmas presents and I am thoroughly enjoying it. Mat is one of the reasons I started writing, so I thought I would share my thoughts on his latest album.

Rochester is my favorite song on this album

This is his most energetic and eclectic project yet, and is unlike anything he has done so far. Kearney has always been a favorite artist of mine, and he is definitely my favorite song writer.

I love Kearney's style because he stays very true to his projects. For instance, on the cover of Young Love, he is wearing his striped shirt and newsie cap. When you go to his website and watch his videos, he wears the same outfit in most of them. 

Love the song, Fire & Rain

He did the same thing with City of Black and White. Even when he performed, he wore the same outfit. I like this because it keeps the spirit of the album alive. It's fulfilling to see an artist do this, because it's almost expected when you go and see them perform.

If he wasn't doing this, it would almost be like him not playing the one song you came to hear. You'd feel disappointed and let down, like it wasn't the same artist whose cd you bought. 

Good album, but I HATE the song Trainwreck. Sorry Mat.

I also love the fact that on Young Love, he goes back to the spoken word style that he originally used in his debut album, Bullet.

So, if you are a Mat Kearney fan and don't yet own Young Love, you should. It's a must.

I would buy this album solely for the song All I Need.
By far his best song ever written and on my all time favorites list.

If you are not familiar with Mat Kearney, it is a good cd to get; however I would actually suggest starting with Nothing Left to Lose and going from there. He is a great singer and artist, but I don't think you can really appreciate Mat's lyrical writing style as much if you don't start with that album first.

It's the best he has ever done, and I don't think he will top it anytime soon.

It's Moments Like This......

Remembering the Little Things

I try my best to remember the special moments in life. Some people count the certain occasions or abnormal occurrences as what make up the special moments. 

For instance, couples spend hours recording their infant child in hopes of capturing that first word, or families plan big parties or extravagant vacations in hopes of creating lasting memories.

But I think we humans overlook the everyday moments that we take for granted. 

Right now, I'm in a hotel room in OKC with my mother, waiting for my brothers to arrive. Mom and I are watching Meet Me In St. Louis. I have never seen this movie all the way through, and mom has not seen it ever before.

We are just past the part where Mr. Smith announces that they are all moving to New York. Everybody flips out and now Mr. and Mrs. are alone in the dining room, conversing in dramatic Hollywood dialogue.

My brother Daniel just now walked in our room, carrying 3 large pizzas from Stars and Stripes. He's followed closely by my dad. As soon as Joseph gets here, we are going to open our presents.

Back on the T.V., Mrs. Smith has moved to the piano and is now playing softly. Mr. Smith has joined her and started singing. The song fills our small atmosphere and sets the backdrop for our little holiday party. 

We have started eating our pizza. I don't think there is any other place I would rather be at this moment than right here on this hotel bed watching a classic and spending quality time with the most important people in my life.

This is not an unusual moment. We have spent many hours together with pizza and a movie. But these are the moments that I like to soak in, these are the calming times when there is no rush and everything is relaxed. The world is a peace and I am at home, even if real home is about 75 - 80 miles away.

These are the moments that I don't want to forget. Even now, I am documenting the play by play seconds - my brother reaching for another slice of hamburger pizza; my mom with her feet up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, legs crossed. Dad is sitting in the corner in a red easy chair, drinking a coke and eating with the rest of us. And Judy Garland is on the silver screen, singing Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.

And soon, little Tootie will be outside in the front yard destroying the snowmen and crying hysterically.

Take advantage of your time, especially this Christmas. This is the last Christmas you will have like this one. Next year could be completely different. 

Enjoy it. Remember it. Cherish it.

Thanks for reading!

And The Winner Is....

And now, announcing this years Christmas Sweater Contest Winner...

Last Years Winner

CONGRATULATIONS #3 - COLLEEN!

This Years Winner - #3 Colleen Zelenski

Colleen has won a stocking stuffed with Donald Millers book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, a $15 Itunes Gift Card, and a $15 Starbucks Gift Card!

Thank you Mandy, Amber and Sierra for competing in this years contest, and thank you to everyone who voted and helped make this contest possible!

Now go blast Colleens Facebook wall and tell her how awesome she is! Or how awesome her friends are who voted for her!