If I hear one more horror story about how a kid whose parents were ministers screwed them up and made them hate God and Jesus...I'm so going to convert to Catholicism so no one will bother me about why I'm not married and have no kids.

I can't believe just...

Where is the love?
Where did it die?

Religious Acrobatics

In so many ways ministerial work reminds me of The Wizard of Oz.

There are flashy lights, tacky looking sunglasses, big projection screens and small guys hiding behind screens throwing levers.

For some people there is this fear of what may be out there...so we all need to wear glasses so we're not blinded by the brilliant glimmer of green light in our own personal Emerald Cities. It's really easy to see what you want to when the glasses you have on just show a person the only color they don't find offensive.

Someway and somehow ministers are supposed to be perfect beings, walking straight lines, always doing the right thing, can solve any problem and are willing to throw their families and personal relationship to God in the fire just for their flocks.

If Christianity in the Americas isn't going to fold like a bad card table it has become there needs to be some sort of reexamination of what the priorities are and what we expect from those who draw the short stick and get shoved to the front of the line to act as leaders.

The more I think about this the less any of it make sense.
Jesus tore down man built religious tradition.
As soon as Christianity became legal in the Roman Empire tradition sprang up.
A lot of Christian thought was mixed with the celebration of pagan holidays to attract people to 'our side'.
Somehow following a group of people is to be preferred to that of individual faith?
How is this group think, herd mentality supposed to work with Jesus?

I just want to help people.
I want to tell people Jesus loves them.
But for some reason I feel bound by church buildings and tradition.
It's as if I am not going to do anything until I get the approval of my peers and a fat bonus to go along with all my hard work.
America is supposed to be the land of the self sufficient but the whole idea of being independent is a just a farce to cover up our need to follow the leader more closely than any other country.

There is no need for me to wait to find a church or a religious institute but my heart is so afraid of being right.
I'm afraid of Jesus loving me.
I'm afraid of helping people by telling them that Jesus loves them.
I'm afraid of sacrificing my pride, my selfish desire and my plans by surrendering and letting Him control me.

I say how much I hate church games but mentally speaking I'm still playing one.
The only difference is I'm sitting outside the building while trying to figure out where everyone went.

Ultimately if I can do some good, if I can help someone, if I can sacrifice myself and my comfort and in someway...Jesus can use my egomania to give someone hope...that is worth any price.

I'm so tired of me...me...everything revolving around this...

"You place Your hands around my heart, You quiet the emptiness in me
A king that kneels, a God made a servant, You set the captives free
You wait for me, a wretch of a man, no record of wrongs do You keep
You are comfort when I mourn, You are strength when I am weak
Jesus Christ, the king of kings
Though we ache, though we cry, never break, never die
We sing of His great love again and again
And His love reigns forever, and forevermore
Forever and ever, Amen"

Finding Soul in this Ache

Baffling, babbling and more
as we go along
with what we've always known.
Dissenting, disconcerting
and fear,
fear of what it would be like
to travel beside you
and know what's in your mind.
Just another bit of fear
about learning who I am
and where none of us stand in this place.

Reciprocating as I feel,
just feel the arms of the Divine
as I lay here
wanting to escape
from these chains
this prison
but mostly
run far away from me.

Trepidation,
just fear of what I've become
with every moment
and every breath I take
while separated from You.
I can't breath while in pain
and all I can do
is hope
about hoping
while trying to fall
just endlessly into Love
and find grace,
purely refined grace
and this sacred
and holy place
where we can be one
and unified
and lost in the beauty
as I struggle to see
and fight of this blindness.

Let me feel
Let me see
Let me heal
and just let me be
while I stumble down this path
and not know my left from my right
and let me find only You.

"You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah"

My Own Price

Apathy kill my heart,
indulge me as I indulge you.
Just take me and make me
everything I'm not
and everything I can't be
just so I can feel the feelings
of cutting inside
and having my heart bleed.

Make me live so strong
that the flame expands
filling every crevice
as the time passes
within and the ebb catches
and carries us all.

Things are such a convoluted mess of things in my head...plus I'm running a fever again...ack...

I need a nap.

Or silence.

Maybe a cold bath too.

I think I'm getting sick again... =/

Um...my mind has just been blown.

Turns out I've known a good songwriter for a while.

Still has nothing on mine though!

White Washed Soul

Why are you here tonight?
Go.
Go far, far away,
Back to the nether from which you were spawned.
Neither hope or longing
you are merely despair wrapped in clothing
and never a hope's own dawning.

Flee.
Walk or limp while you still can
while my cares are meaningless
just like these contrived verses
as I hope to spell out
what only poetry every can.

Aching and longing
mixed with hope
but not for this
or anything in your realm
or the orbit of your persona
just a mild case of bliss
and of laying here moaning
longing for the day this pain
and every split nerve ends
along with this monotonous
dialogue
of conversing
with this blank wall.

Observation of the Day:

When someone reaches the point of eating a piece of cake spitefully it is safe to admit that something might possibly be wrong.

Quote of the Day:

“We do not have to visit a madhouse to find disordered minds; our planet is the mental institution of the universe.”
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Flowing Red, Painted Pictographs

My soul lays open
dissected and flayed
on display as a cheap gimmick,
just like the cheap grace
I throw back
and act as though is was mine
in this first and primary place.

Every beat of this degenerate heart
is a beat so much closer
to be captured in Your hand
and the act of a final divorce
from this land of waking death.

Vagrant and degenerate
this heart wonders as it wanders
and I'm brought back to silence,
at the ineptitude of man and machine
as I try to find where I belong.

I just want this beat to end
and this song to finish
so I can wake to find
this eternal end to eternal grays
and the everlasting sunlight painted
in such a way only You can.

"The Day the Whole World Went Away (Quiet Remix)" - Nine Inch Nails

I'm so tired of people and the yelling.

I'm going to just stop making excuses and just stop caring. Damn these people and their lack of empathy and caring about other people.

I'm tired, I ache, I hate food...bleharg.

Food poisoning.

Joy.

My body simply hates me.

Oie.

Nothing now.

Quote of the Day - Part Two:

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell."
-C.S. Lewis

I should stop beating this dead horse before the thing becomes a zombie horse, gets up and tries to take a chunk off my foot for kicking it so much.

After last night...I have some serious doubts about people lodged in my head now...I don't want to be rude...and I hope this doesn't hurt or offend...I just...

I'm not sure I trust anyone now.
That revelation was a bit too much for my mind...
I just...
I doubt I can phrase it into words.
Or make logical sense.

My failure was in putting faith in frail humans.
That is my sin.
I continue to trust and invest my heart and it will continue to be ripped to shreds because it has no cover.
I do not know how to protect it because all I know is to give myself as genuinely as I can.

And that is part of my sin.
Part of the punishment I deserve for my weakness.
How can I...
Why should...
Is it...plausible...when...

It is all half formed thoughts.
Poorly phrased.
Pain induced.

I go up so high and come crashing down so low.
Sometimes...some days...
Just...

Oh God.
Pain.
Again.
Oh geez.
Why?
Oie.

Christmas decorating...garland...trees...heavy boxes....oh geeez...#_#

And...worry and stress are stopping me from taking my nap.

Bah.

You know...these...and the whys.
Help...please?
Help them...her and her and him...and them...every last one.
Only You can.
Please.

And home again.
With an eccentric cat by my side.
I feel I have conquered a mountain.
But today will be long.
A short nap and then exercise.
Some Christmas decorations and then more writing.
Oh I how I long to see Your face...

And now...back home.