Meadow

One of my private journal entries… one of my scattered attempts at writing.  Written on March 10, 2009.

Elusive flashes of inspiration come but are quickly forgotten.  The rhythm and meter so meticulously planned fall prey to the chaos.  I spend time on the grey seas of apathy in a boat of my own making.  I half-heartedly turn for the bright shores, but I break my oars instead.  Better me than someone else with more to offer.

The scene changes to a silver meadow on a golden afternoon.  Red, yellow, and orange rain down and touch my hair softly.  Flowers like suns and stars provide my body with the most auspicious of cushions.  The sun’s rays are like silver rain falling gently, cleansing my eyes.  It all mingles with my tears to form my mind’s favorite drink.  And I am unadorned - alone.

Beauty never claimed happiness as its companion.  Inspiration does not always come accompanied by relief.  One cannot always wipe tears away with autumnal leaves.  Every emotion imaginable is in this meadow, but they never seem to touch.

the weeping meadow

the station

tulips push against what holds them.    they believe desire lifts roots from water.

he believes the moment’s in the train. the curve of three windows that ache for sun.

i believe the moment’s in the sea,     sitting opposite in a white corner with a mirror.

the tulips grow high. they swim in the space between one moment and   an other.

there are ghosts. dancing in the phone booth  they look through

the back window,   our garden of stone and rock, rusted tricycle, flower-pot.

do you have money the train leaves today, baby. my boy’s staying with Mum.

Mum’s the word in Cobble Hill all flowers look you straight in the red eye.

all ghosts hide under persian rugs.          they whispered as i was caught in the dark

window, pressed up against the pane:   was i trying to climb

in or out.  no one ever knew.       the train is so late i hallucinate

the station moves up a hill and paints the door red.   stop,

he retreats to the backyard to smoke, stare at stone and push it

between one moment and   an other.     baby’s train song,   my absence.

Suffering

But he was wounded for our transgressions;

he was crushed for our iniquities;

upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,

and with his stripes we are healed. -Isaiah 53:5

An extremely important concept to note of the death and resurrection of Jesus is its purpose.  There was only one purpose behind Jesus’ death, though there may be many other things that followed.  Jesus suffered for us; He suffered for you and me.  The Christ, the Son of God, was crushed for our failures, our sins, with the intent to bring us peace and healing.  This new life that we have been imparted, the remission of our sins was brought about only because of Christ’s sufferings, death, and resurrection.  I make a careful intention to link all three of these together (though suffering led to the death and may be considered part of the death) because they are necessary for the product of salvation.  Salvation could not occur without the whole thing, Jesus had to die and rise.  Now, this mirrors the idea that we must die as well, which is found in a previous post.  But once again, I am trying to make it perfectly crystal clear that Jesus did not suffer for Himself or because He was obligated, He did so for you.  Jesus redefined the meaning of a servant, and of love even.  “For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God…” (1 Peter 3:18a).  Jesus suffered for all of our sins, not His, once, so we would not have to, and so it would be possible for us to enter into the presence of God.  He loves you.  He suffered for nothing, but for you.  Praise be to God!

About Jesus

paparazzi

spending time alone and at home will make you start to think you are a movie star. every little motion gets two or three exaggerated takes. you turn towards your audience; you turn away. you hide in your bathroom with the door shut, cursing the paparazzi for disturbing your peace.

i stand in the shower like they do in the films. my head is bent under the current; my back towards the door. the water is much too hot, steam rises everywhere, and in one motion, i flip up my hair in reverse waterfall, wiping the liquid from my eyes so i can breath a sigh and see again.

do i hear a sound in the inner portions of my home? a door? a bump? a bang? i practice what i will say to mr. robberman with weapon:

“stop! don’t shoot!” tired and true.

how about, “you don’t have to do this. take my money and be gone!”

no, i will say, “hello, mr. robberman. how nice of you to stop by. you’ll find the good china in the cabinet above the refridgerator. i understand desperate times call for desperate measures.”

you see, i prefer comedy.

but then the sound becomes more real and almost paralyzed with fear i know there is no planning and sneaking out of the shower, i am naked and venerable and my feet wet the carpet and i almost can’t breath and i think, “what will be there right around this corner? will it be the end of life?”

oh, my, it is only the cat!

i bow and exit to the left for a sandwich.

New York City Girl....

And today’s title is an excerpt from Cross Canadian Ragweed’s New York City Girl.  Great song.  Catchy.  haha.

3-Day: Have been sick this week so haven’t walked the correct mileages for the training program.  But I did get an email from an awesomely nice lady who did the 3-Day last year and sent like a training guide thing that is especially helpful.  I also tried a different pair of shoes today and liked them.  Still need to go and get fitted though for the correct shoes—I’ve put it off but know that I gotta do that ASAP, especially since the mileage is about to go up a lot.   The letters have been effective thus far : THANKS SO MUCH!!!!  Also, things could be looking positive for the Tough Enough to Wear Pink rodeo event at Stamford…..and the Athens committee is considering it, but also considering some other things, so we’ll just have to wait and see…..

PS There should be a link on the right of the screen to go to my 3-Day page and you can donate!

Notre Dame sent me a link to start the MBA Math course.  Wow, I’m looking forward to THAT.  Sarcasm.

I did something new today–I entered a book into the Library of Congress.  Not a book that I wrote, but I still entered it.  So score one for new experiences.

Umm…news on the doctor front.  Looks like I’m gonna be having some brain surgery done.  Have 2 doc appts next week so that’s pretty much a good thing I suppose.

On a side note, Tylenol Cold (the liquid blue kind) ROCKS.  I tried Aleve and Advil cold and sinus meds and they didn’t work but the Tylenol stuff is pretty awesome.