The Gnome

Ah, there's so much in my heart right now...but I'll refrain for a moment to tell about a dream I had this morning.

I'm in an auditorium of moderate size. The aisles are wide. I keep hearing parents complaining about the character of some of the teenagers that are running around on the stage. All of a sudden I find myself sitting by a rain-streaked window in a dimly lit room. A small table butts up against the wall. There are probably three of us in the room. At the table, myself and another man stare at a sleeping gnome. Slowly I place my hands upon the creature and begin to shake him 'til his eyes open. As I set him down he begins to prophesy " It is creeping up over the car quickly. There isn't much time!". As he is speaking, a silver medallion lying next to him begins to swirl into different images. Instinctually I know that we are waiting to see if the medallion is "heads" or "tails". When the medallion reveals the image of a knight it is "heads", and when the medallion stretches to become a cross sticking out of the circle, "it is tails". The man sitting next to me picks up the token. But it is too early! "Stop fool! He isn't finished yet! You've ruined it!" some man yells from near the door. The gnome is still prophesying as I hear "wake uuup, wake up Josh" in a really girly voice. I'm now awake and my friend Tyler is standing at the door. Oive!

Blank Christmas

There's been a slight wrinkle in Christmas this year. It happened too early. We opened presents at my sister's house this morning, Christmas EVE. Which means there's nothing to wake up to tomorrow. For the first time in my twenty four years, there won't be anything to wake up to on Christmas. Don't worry, I'm gonna be okay, but its still a little weird. Tomorrow feels a tad blank. And that makes me wonder what Christmas is like for millions of people in this world. People who make me feel fortunate to have nothing to wake up to. Because they won't even have the peace of waking up to nothing. They'll wake up to hunger or the same nagging disease. They may not even go to sleep because they can't stop thinking about the family they don't have. Or the guns that keep firing nearby. There are many worse predicaments than a blank Christmas. So for that, I am thankful.

And now, instead of the gifts and greedy thoughts that love to pass through my head, maybe for this one special morning, I can wake up to the knowledge that Hope was born. May all those heavy-laden souls, around the corner or around the globe, find rest, find peace, find love, by the grace of God.

The Beast of Burden

The pile of newspapers was nearing disasterous. For some time now, Nickel's life had been consumed with an unquenchable desire for the written word of columnists. Each morning, as he awoke to shards of light piercing through his mini-blinds, a clock began to tick. In his head. It must be gotten. Before they're gone! If ever Nickel were to reach the paper bin and find it empty, he was sure that he could not go on. He would have no excuse, no answer to the grumblings of his guinea pig Max. Max would not understand. And he would not forgive. Max needed to know those papers were there, sitting on the coffee table. "What an unfair relationship" Nickel would think as he braved the cold, shifting winds, block after block. But it was his compromise, his sacrifice, his expression of love for the furry beast. And as Nickel had always sought to be consistent, he would rise, morning after morning.

Pieces

What makes me who I am?

my dreams, aspirations, and ideals?

or

my actions, my words, my thoughts?


My heart is a difficult thing. It feels and longs for so much.


It seeks after love, joy, and peace. But those don't come easily. They come by patience, and patience by faith. It is so hard to live in faith. I can do it for a while, but eventually I need some sort of gratification. Its there that I am warring within myself. The part of me that says "now" and the part of me that says "wait". How is it possible to love and hate yourself at the same time unless you are essentially two different pieces? And if I'm two different pieces, I must be two different people. I am the combination of my aspirations and my actions. I am the combination of flesh and soul. I am the combination of past and present. I seek the infinite yet constantly settle for the immediate. Life is a journey of destination, and I will, time and again, stop to ask for directions.

What Are They Doing Right Now?

Do you ever wonder what someone else is doing, right at this very moment? Like say, George Bush. Right this second. Maybe he's in the bathroom. Washing his hands. Looking in the mirror. Reciting something he just said to a senator, while unknowingly splashing water all over his blue shirt. He itches his nose with his pointer finger and thumb, sucks in to clear the cavities, then turns toward the door. Bam! There's Hilary Clinton! It gets really awkward. 'Cause they're not sure who's in the wrong room:

"Oh hey, hey, there Hilary, uh, good ta see ya!"

"Hello George."

"Well, uh, I think..."

"You're in the women's bathroom."

"Uh, I think you're wrong about that."

"Oh really George? Is that what you think?"

"Yea, uh, it is senator."

"Really George?"

"Yea, yea that's what I think."

"No, no, I don't think so."

"Uh..."

"Listen, if you think of ANYTHING, let me know. Okay, will you do that?"

"Oh 'course, you know it. Anyhow, good to see ya!"

"Yeah."


And thats it. A real moment in the life of two iconic figures. George walks out. Now Hilary stands in front of the mirror, washing her hands, mumbling under her breath.

Think of You

I went to hear the Reeve Carney Revolving Band last night. Beautiful music. It flies all over the place. Grand sounds. Simple sounds. Jam sounds. Unselfish, pure, evocative music. He ends the night with a song titled "Think of You". The lights dim, turn a shade of blue, he's the only guy left on stage. But the way he sings the song, and who he sings it to, would make you think otherwise. I forgot I was watching him and felt myself in those lyrics. And I felt the power, the peace of looking to Christ when I'm at my worst, and at my best. I felt the reality of his pain, the impact of his sacrifice, and as I left the pub I walked with something different in my step. Not a quicker pace, maybe a slower one, but probably neither. What was different was the peace and desire inside of me. I want to hold onto that. That peace. That desire. Because when I wake up the next morning, I know how easily life will be able to trip me up. Get me mad or jealous or selfish or bitter or hopeless or afraid. But now, when I think of that song, I'll "Think of You".

The Trapeze Swinger

I'm listening to a song by Iron and Wine called "The Trapeze Swinger". Well, and eating eggs and a piece of bread(not toast) with some orange juice. Because I don't think I'm being "nutritious" enough. I keep feeling tired. So I went to bed before midnight last night, resisiting the temptation for a late night viewing of "The Devil Wears Prada". Anyways, my point is, I interrupted the worst eggs I've ever made and therefore the best orange juice I've ever drunk to recommend this song. Its worth listening to at least once. So stop whining that you're sick of me recommending music blah blah blah because if you look back over these blog entries you haven't read anyways you'll notice I've haven't recommended nothin. And because I'm now upset that you're getting me upset, I'm recommending another album I've only heard snippets of. "Boxer" by The National. Apparently people that listen to Sigur Ros listen to this guys low toned voice lifting up mumblings about the disparity in economic classes. I've got to go. I've always "got to go". Tallyo friend.