"We All Have the Same Holes in our Hearts. . ."

Listener
WOODEN HEART (sea of mist called skaidan)
We’re all born to broken people on their most honest day of living
and since that first breath... We’ll need grace that we’ve never given
I've been haunted by standard red devils and white ghosts
and it's not only when these eyes are closed
these lies are ropes that I tie down in my stomach,
but they hold this ship together tossed like leaves in this weather
and my dreams are sails that I point towards my true north,
stretched thin over my rib bones, and pray that it gets better
but it won’t won’t, at least I don’t believe it will...
so I've built a wooden heart inside this iron ship,
to sail these blood red seas and find your coasts.
don’t let these waves wash away your hopes
this war-ship is sinking, and I still believe in anchors
pulling fist fulls of rotten wood from my heart, I still believe in saviors
but I know that we are all made out of shipwrecks, every single board
washed and bound like crooked teeth on these rocky shores
so come on and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember
I am the barely living son of a woman and man who barely made it
but we’re making it taped together on borrowed crutches and new starts
we all have the same holes in our hearts...
everything falls apart at the exact same time
that it all comes together perfectly for the next step
but my fear is this prison... that I keep locked below the main deck
I keep a key under my pillow, it’s quiet and it’s hidden
and my hopes are weapons that I’m still learning how to use right
but they’re heavy and I’m awkward...always running out of fight
so I’ve carved a wooden heart, put it in this sinking ship
hoping it would help me float for just a few more weeks
because I am made out of shipwrecks, every twisted beam
lost and found like you and me scattered out on the sea
so come on let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, just some tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember
My throat it still tastes like house fire and salt water
I wear this tide like loose skin, rock me to sea
if we hold on tight we’ll hold each other together
and not just be some fools rushing to die in our sleep
all these machines will rust I promise, but we'll still be electric
shocking each other back to life
Your hand in mine, my fingers in your veins connected
our bones grown together inside
our hands entwined, your fingers in my veins braided
our spines grown stronger in time
because are church is made out of shipwrecks
from every hull these rocks have claimed
but we pick ourselves up, and try and grow better through the change
so come on yall and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, were just tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

'Tis Very True (or, From the Pen of John Steinbeck, III)

"'The ways of sin are curious,' Samuel observed. 'I guess if a man had to shuck off everything he had, inside and out, he'd manage to hide a few little sins somewhere for his own discomfort. They're the last things we'll give up.'"
East of Eden, Chapter 15 part 3

From the Pen of John Steinbeck, II

"And this I believe: that the free, exploring mind of the individual human is the most valuable thing in the world. And this I would fight for: the freedom of the mind to take any direction it wishes, undirected. And this I must fight against: any idea, religion, or government which limits or destroys the individual. This is what I am and what I am about. I can understand why a system built on a pattern must try to destroy the free mind, for that is one thing which can by inspection destroy such a system. Surely I can understand this, and I hate it and I will fight against it to preserve the one thing that separates us from the uncreative beasts. If the glory can be killed, we are lost."

East of Eden, Chapter 13 part 1.

Food for Thought, Part II

Why is it that Thanksgiving and Christmas, the most unselfish holiday themes, end up being the most selfish?

Shellshocked (or, Random Rant II)

In the Hot Zone: One Man, One Year, Twenty Wars, by Kevin Sites. Finished, 11.23.11, 11:48 AM.

I really don't know what to feel. I don't know what to think, really. This book will haunt me for a long time, and will end up in my library once I get money to buy it since the copy I have is borrowed. Mr. Sites' experiences really did fuel my want to go out there into the real world (which is found right out my front door) and see it all, stop being so whiny about trifles. Here I am, Thanksgiving eve, with all the feast almost ready. Am I really going to enjoy this gluttonous holiday? I don't know. I'm not sure I want to eat until not one more bit fits when there are many out there who do not have anything. If anything I learned from In the Hot Zone is that really I live in a "wealth of information and a poverty of knowledge." After I see that in the Democratic Republic of the Congo one military life is lost to sixty-two civilian lives. Like Kevin says, "War poses as combat but is really collateral damage." Thanksgiving, that I don't have an idea of what problems are. Maybe this Thanksgiving I won't be so gluttonous; maybe I'll be more thankful.

7 Billion

The world has officially reached a population of 7 billion people.
How many hungry people have I fed? How many naked people have I clothed? How many prisoners have I visited? How many sick people have I cared for?

I think it's rather selfish of me to want Jesus to come tomorrow. There are billions who need to know about Him.
At the same time, Jesus needs to come now. There are many people which will be lost if He doesn't come now, because I am too scared and ashamed to go out there.

Random Memory with a Moral...

It was getting close to Christmas-time and I must have been in fourth grade, if not younger. My family has never had a huge extravagant Christmas, and I am glad I never did (just so much easier on the wallet there...). But this once my mom decided to have us pick out our gifts. So she packed us up into the van and took us to the nearest clothing store. Now, before I go on, I'd like to say that my parents are really smart--actually, that's an understatement--and my mom had something up her sleeve. She told us that at the school where she works there were little children--one in each of mine and my sibling's classes--who were really poor and they were not having Christmas that year, so each of us would pick a gift for them. Immediately, a person I knew was poor and had siblings in my sibling's classes came to mind. However, I didn't really like this kid because he made fun of me, so I immediately found the ugliest shirt I could find, gave it to my mom, and didn't think much of it afterwards. Now it all worked out that the boy and I wore the same size clothes, and somehow my mom got me and my siblings to get clothes of our own size. Lo and behold, Christmas Eve came, and to the Hispanic culture we opened our presents at midnight. I got the usual sweaters from my grandparents, a cool something from my "rich" uncle (I saw him that way in those days....), and clothes from my parents. But what struck me was my mom's box. Inside, there was that ugly shirt I picked out.

Playing Captain Hindsight over here, I realize that that is true humility. We can only be Jesus followers when we give to others that which we would give ourselves, if not better. This is true Christianity.