The Cool Shoeshine!

Tomorrow comes today, and there are just things that I can't get my head screwed on straight about. Sigh. I wish I were not such a failure. Reasons for my intentions, so poor.

How could You be so good?

Do you ever wonder if you're the guy with the coat of many colors, and you just don't know it? That you're totally oblivious to the reactions of those around you?

Some times, when I take a breath, I get surprised that I can. Some times, when I let things get into my head, I am surprised that I can't feel anything about that.

There are things you, we all, do, just so we can feel alive. I have three ways of doing it right now. The first is going out in the dark and shooting hoops, whilst listening to music, or playing horse with random folks. The second is ten minutes into the frisbee game, sprinting down field, jumping and stretching to snatch a long throw away from a defender for a score. That moment, that moment I know I'm alive. The adrenaline running through my veins, the air coursing through my lungs... I'm alive.

I said there were three ways. I hold the third one close to me, because I don't want to ever lose it.

I had Thai food last night, Korean food tonight. I guess I'll be eating Eskimo delicacies tomorrow night.

More things are coming out that I need to stop. Why did I get sent back here? It's taking me far too long to understand, to... realize the answer to that question. Do you wonder if you could make someone cry? Do you wonder if it's all in your own head?

A lion roars on the wind, and we strain to hear it. A lamb bleats softly, and we chose that picture as our metaphor. If all the songs you sing could substitute a few words and be about a boyfriend, where's the depth in that? He is not only to be found in the quiet, in the warm embrace. He is also to be found in the cold desolation, in the thunder of terrible violence. He is also to be found in the red stains on my hands, also to be found in the breaking of my back as I fall again. He is not only to be found as a prop for my weary soul, not only as a happy smile on a bad day. He is found in the sharp rebuke, in the prison we build for ourselves. He didn't come to make us feel better, he came to burn the dross out of us. He didn't come to just fix our problems, he came to draw us closer to them so we would rely on Him to fix them.

I let lies control me far too often, but I'll just carry on as long as my sore back and aching muscles will take me. When I collapse, I will get up and fix my eyes on the prize.

None could be like him. None would be like him.

I wish I could never fail him again.