Is it a gift?

I have been asked an intriguing question, recently. For the second time. It was first about writing poems. Do you think your poem writing is a gift? [this was the first time] No. It's a breathing exercise for my hands. ...I hope that when others read them... it may help them to feel: less alone, not as different than everyone else is -or strange. That, it may somehow give words or a voice to thoughts they are trying to either say, or perhaps understand in themselves. I hope sometimes it'll make them laugh, & for a brief moment forget the lousy day they just had. I guess I also hope that some can be a thank you/love note to God. [hopefully that doesn't sound too weird]

That was my answer... then I was asked recently the same question about photos.
Do you think your photography is a gift? No. not really. I don't remember what all I said... but one phrase stuck with me & I cannot get it out of my head to save my life. [truthfully I like it, & cannot believe I said it] My answer:
If a picture is worth a thousand words... then each photo is a thousand word thank you note to God, thanking Him for whatever is in the picture. Thanking Him for His creativeness. Thanking Him for sharing it with me.

So... are these things gifts? I don't really need to answer that do I. It's hard to see them as gifts to be given. I see them as gifts to be received. I'm glad that I have them. I'm glad for what they do to/for me. Though, sometimes, I'm glad no one I know is around when I use them. I feel like a kid who got to sneak some cookies while no one was looking. Like my second field trip to the golf course, I couldn't stop laughing & smiling. It just felt good. I felt like a 5 year old.

I promised a poem. This one is recent. I am going through my stuff [read junk] & I feel like I'm going through my life at the same time...

Go Through Me

Please
Go through me
Help me to step away
Further & further away
From stupid distractions
Clean out the cobwebs of my soul
Open all the doors,
Break all the seals of neglect
go through every single room
I want to be whole
fill in the holes in me, please
throw out
what I shouldn't keep
Be the foundation of this structure
...& the architect
Use Your plans to construct
It as You dreamed it to be.
I know I'll like it
Because You are my favorite artist.

a simple post about something I really like

I finally got to "blip" one of my all time favorite songs. Wind at My Back by Spock's Beard, from the concept album Snow. For those who might wonder what a "concept album" is, think of the disc [the 2 disc set, in this case] as a book. Each song is a chapter, telling a story across the album. In this one, the first concept album former lead singer Neal Morse, ever wrote. [his next 3 solo cd's would be concept albums. Testimony -Neal's conversion story set to music. One - the creation, fall, & redemption of mankind. And Question Mark, ? -for short, talking about the tabernacle/temple of God. 1 song -in 12 parts.]
Wind at my back appears at the end of both cds. First, as a song -outright. Second, as more of a poem/chorus... [italics are my favorite lines...]

Wind At My Back

How can you be
Like a sky stretched out before me
And the world is turning your way
Even darkness is better this way

Can it be true
That it all comes rushing from you
When my resistance is gone
And there's nothing that I can lean on

You are the wind at my back
You give what I lack
You're the jewel in my hand
You're like rain on dry land

You're the focus the beam
You're realities dream
You're the blue in my black
You're the wind at my back

All of the above
I'll have the lot for my love
And as we're becoming somehow
As we're changing the future to now

I just want to live
In the place that you have to give
I'll let the heat beat me down
Until the water comes down

You are the wind at my back
You give what I lack
You're the jewel in my hand
You're like rain on dry land

Yon're the focus the beam
You're realities dream
You're the blue in my black
You're the wind at my back

You are the wind at my back
You give what I lack
You're the jewel in my hand
You're like rain on dry land

And my soul has been kissed
Just because you exist
You're the dream that's a fact
You're the wind at my back

You're the wish that I make
You're the prize I might take
You're the gold that is free
You're the groom on one knee

You're the focus the beam
You're realities dream
You're the blue in my black
You're the wind at my back

Wind At My Back [2nd version]

And you are the wind at my back
You give what I lack
You're the jewel in my hand
You're like rain, you're like rain
You're like rain now

And my soul has been kissed
Just because you exist
You're the gold that is free
You're the groom on one knee

You're the wind at my back
You give what I lack
You're the jewel in my hand
You're like rain on dry land

You're the focus the beam
You're realities dream
You're the blue in my black
You're the wind at my back

You are the wind at my back
You give what I lack
You're the jewel in my hand
You're like rain on dry land

You're the flow that I feel
The illusion so real
You're the ocean the tide
You're the door open wide

And my soul has been kissed
Just because you exist
You're the gold that is free
You're the groom on one knee

You're the focus the beam
You're realities dream
You're the blue in my black
You're the wind at my back

You're the wish that I make
You're the prize I might take
You're the dream that's a fact
You're the wind at my back

You're the flow that I feel
The illusion so real
You're the ocean the tide
You're the door open wide

And my soul has been kissed
Just because you exist
You're the blue in my black
You're the wind at my back

Well... I'll try to post a poem again, in the next few days. I've got quite a few, just didn't write them on my pc. [I've been journaling them more lately]

[photo is mine, from the neglected labirynth.]
...oh, & I'm on flickr now, in case you want to click over there...
...and I'm on borrowed time...
good night [to borrow from SNL:]
"good night, & have a pleasent tomorrow"

describing my need for Him....

I don't know why, but my life makes me love songs that paint God as someone I need so bad I can taste it. They paint a need for God, almost as an addiction. Two fav's in this category are: Hawkmoon 269 by U2 "...like coming home, & you don't know where you've been, like black coffee, like nicotine, I need your love..."
AND:
...a favorite song hidden on the end of Kevin Max's "Stereotype Be" cd. Words by Kevin Max Smith....

You are The One

I ran into your arms
like Moses parted water
I ran into your arms
like an angel to the father
I ran into your arms
like a soul that has departed
& you rescued me...

I fell down like the stars,
you pick me up so tenderly
And I fell down like the stars,
my wings made of clay
And I fell down like the stars,
you hold me up so all can see
And you rescued me,
oh yes

You,
You are the One
You are the One,
the only One
‘Cause You are,
You,
You are the One
You are the One,
You are my God

I stumble like a blind man
Destined to this earth I stray
I stumble like a blind man
No redemption
I stumble like a blind man
With eyes blacked out
& mouth of sand
And you rescued me,
oh come on

You,
You are the One
You are the One,
You are my God
‘Cause You are,
You,
You are the One
You are the One,
the only One

‘Cause you are,

You are
the sky that holds the rain
You are
my greater stave
You are
the drugs that kill the pain
You are everything, the teacher

I stand before your altar,
Falling strain of Abram’s son
I stand before your altar,
Like a lamb led to the slaughter

You,
You are the One
You are the One, the Only One
‘Cause You are
You,
You are the One
You are the One,
the only One
And You are
You,
You are the One
You are the One
You are my God
And you are
You, You are the One
You are the One,
the only One
‘Cause You are

You wanna call me when I’m wondering with doubt
You wanna call and tell me everything’s alright
I know it’s you and you see everything in me
I know it’s you, It’s you

You are the sky
that holds the rain
You are
my greater stave
You are
the drugs that kill my pain
You are
everything, the teacher

You are
the sky that holds the rain
You are
my greater stave
You are
the drugs that kill the pain

...there are so many...
they inspire me to write poems... but, sadly, I could write a thousand poems to Him... & still not get it right...

why I write... [& why so silent]

Well... it's been a bit long since the last post.
I'm still taking photos.
...still writing [journaling as of late]
working up the nerve to do things. Someone I meet with has asked me to dust off my guitar & play... anything. I'm trying to get the nerve to [hopefully before summer's end]. My fear? last time this person asked me to do something... my poems began to be published. [which was shortly before this blog was born]

this post is several "trains of thought" I'm trying to carefully piece together. If it doesn't work... please be graceful.

I went to a picnic this last Sun. The Noll reunion. My father is one of eight. The only one who had only one child. I have approx. twenty cousins. My life has these odd opposites in it. Big extended family, small immediate one. You may be tempted to ask: "what was that like?". I don't know. I've never had the chance to go back & do it differently. I'm only living this once. Though, I think at some point, I'll try to write my life out... to see if God can help me believe all this happened. My life... really is a true story. Like Sting writes, I don't understand it [& won't till it's last chapter is written]. -oh, the song is "The Book Of My Life" from Sacred Love.

A week ago Friday [first Friday], I had a wonderful time. My wife went along. And we got to be young lovers all over again. We talked & walked the streets of Lancaster. Talking of things I never say [too fearful to share. I'll share a post on fear sometime]. Afterward she said she'd like to go again, especially to photo ones. She recently said I should enter some into the York Fair. Maybe... maybe.

As this coming Sun. is Father's day, I am praying for John. [you may remember me mentioning his loss of his son] John has a blog now. Vision Over Visibility. Someone wrote to his son on there as a comment. I'd like to, but feel it's a bit silly or weird of me to do so.
...I'd like to here, though.

Ben
I so wish
that things were different
but
as silly as what I say has to be
can we work something out?
how about we enjoy your mom & dad for you
and you can enjoy
my cousin Heather...
my grandparents...
[Pappy & Grandma always had room for one more at the table, anyway]
the uncle I never met [sadly, he didn't live here much longer than you did]
and if you'd like someone to play with
...my nephews are there
can you play with them
till I get there?
[the good news is... I'll get to say hello. And I'll never have to say good-bye, ever again.
for where you are, dear Ben, good-bye is obsolete.]
Till we meet,
B

Guess I should get around to the title of this thing, huh?
When I'm silent, it isn't always a bad thing. I've recently [over the past year] realized that I get depressed sometimes when I don't get enough sunlight. And for the past [I won't embarrass myself with stating how many] number of years I've said: "next year I need to spend more of my summer outside." ...welcome to "next year". Some people who are depressed are given Lithium as an anti-depressant. [Now I'm not saying that this is enough of a dose for them, but..] The rays of the Sun at sunrise & at sunset give off a small amount of natural lithium. And generally all of us need some sunlight. So this is partly why I'm not online as much lately. As well as projects that have been neglected. And this month has been so busy I need a tour shirt printed up with all that I'm doing [just so I remember what happened in June.] I'll try to give ...better clues sooner on my silences. Because yes, sometimes I withdraw because of something being wrong. Often, when this is the case, words don't seem to come [in any form]. I comfort myself in these times with Romans 8:26. In which Paul speaks of The Spirit praying for us in a sort of "private language" between Him & The Father. In the Message, Peterson puts it as The Spirit weaving our "wordless sighs & groans into prayers". God alone knows, just how powerfully I need that sometimes. I am comforted to know He hears my wordless anguish. A friend once said of a dark time in their life: "to feel Jesus is closer than your skin".

why do I write?
I write
what I wish I could say
to someone's face
tell them I'm glad
they want to see me

I write
it's sometimes
my way of crying
I cry
in keystrokes
I bleed with words

I've been doing this for so long now
I cannot "not do it"
I can not share it
but I cannot stop writing
I need it
it's the way my fingers breathe
it's my soul's way of proving
that it's alive.

Wow... this is long... & it's late.
Be safe,
and if the way is dark right now...
run
into His arms
the arms of light...

A blog post from a video I wish I could post here.

This Sunday [for the second time] LW aired a video that is really powerful.

…it is so not worth trying to share it with you as a “script”. In a few days they’ll put up the Sunday morning talk on the website here. You can at least hear it. What follows is pieces of several written “things”, based on the statements she makes. Statements that many of us make about our worthiness of being loved/forgiven/cared for.

[her statements are written first, the bold parts are my responses]
“I don’t deserve your love”
“that’s not why I give it to you”
“…but, you can’t love this”
“watch me”
“…but, I’m broken…”
“…then I will love the pieces”
You don’t know what I’ve done…
But I know what He did
You don’t know where I’ve been
Thank God you left.
You don’t know what’s been done to me
“No. But I know what's been done for you...
…but if you must share it
While it may break my heart…
I …WILL listen to you tell me.
[and I will cry with you, so you don’t do it alone.
…and I will cry for you… if you can’t]

This video makes you cry. Because ...he doesn't give up. He has every right, every reason to... but... he... doesn't.
It is "so Jesus" it hurts. It hurts out loud.

It answers a Nickelback song. "say it for me, say it to me. And I'll leave this life behind me. say it, if it's worth savin' me..."

[for L.L.'s challenge]

i am

i am broken
...but still wanted
i am used
...but being repaired
i am
not as lost as I once was
...but more lost than I want to be
i am
still part of the story
[even though I'm not sure how]
i am
still healing
i am
still a friend
even though some may question why
-may even say I shouldn't be
i am learning to forgive
whether anyone likes it or not
[including me sometimes]
i am
bought "as is"
but not left as is
i am
changing
i am
learning to go left
i am
more than I thought I was
i am
happier now
than I used to be
i am
not ok
[but one day...
I'll be nothing but ok]
i am
a work in progress
i am
being restored
by The Artist
though I don't always feel worth it
He says
i am

Mulching [pt 2]

...so there you have it. My new stylin' deckish thing. It feels inviting [as apposed to tolerated, like before.] I'm pretty pleased with it [as you can tell]. A part of a "grander scheme", that I'm working toward.
Well, back to it then.

I'll leave you with another older poem.

Unique

Your touch

Your walk

Your fingerprint

Your voice

…are all unique

To you.

One may attempt to imitate it

But somehow can never copy

You, not completely

Not the way you

Think

Or speak

Not the way

You construct sentences

Link thoughts together

…or create art

No one can copy

The way you communicate

With the maker of all things

Why… then

Do we struggle

With who we are?

Why do we

[some of us, anyway]

Struggle

To let the real “me”

Come out & “play”?

To let the real me

Create?

“but they will laugh at me”

[at least you had guts to put yourself out there]

Maybe they will laugh…

…maybe their laughter

Is their way of hiding the tears

…of their own feelings

Of inadequacy

To hide the fact

That they are jealous

That you had the courage to try

And they… did not.

You gave it a shot

[and they did, squat]

You are unique

Each human

Is

A Sculpture of God.

“The Art of The Almighty”

Sadly…

[I know, because I am chief

Among those who are like this]

Sadly…

It is easy to say such things…

As long…

As I’m not…

Looking in a mirror.

But before you hang your head for me…

I have many…

Who just keep on saying

That I

Am art, too.

That I make art

That I am an artist

That I am unique

In a good way, too.

Slowly

I am feeling

Ok to be alive

Maybe I am an artist

[maybe…

He can use my art

… to save us both]

Mulching

so my mulching is finally done, thanks Dad [who doesn't read blogs, but oh well]. My Dad helped me finish it. Did my allergies bother me? ....let's just say "I've felt better". I tried to take a few pix, but they are all horrendously dark. We completely changed the back "patio area" [this is using the term in THE most loose way humanly possible]. I actually like it now. My Dad is freakishly good at stuff like that, & I'm... well, not. I am finally starting to feel better than I have in a while [why do I feel like a broken record saying this?] I felt lousy for the last week & over the holiday weekend [Sun. I went from bed to the couch & back, nice]. So another of my "summer projects" is done. Next up, storm door. I'll post some pix later on. I'm kind of being a bit "anti-social" lately. I have set some pretty heavy goals for this year. [actually, I'm kind of catching up on an accumulating list of them. Most are more than six years old! ugh. Let's say I'm trying to put procrastination off till tomorrow.]
So, if those of you who live round here don't see me in my usual capacity, it's temporary. As for the sparseness of my blogging... I'm unplugging a good bit lately. I need to... [perhaps recalibrate is a good way to put it]

another older poem..... [written at my uncle's cabin]

A Walk Through the Woods

I walk through
The woods today
…feeling like
A lost prince
…found by
His beloved King
I drink in
Every smell
Every sound
Every color
Every image
I walk
Through
The rough
Draft of a
Kingdom
Soon coming

The world has seemed
[the past 3 years]
Like it was
Wearing thin
-almost
“tired of itself”
But as You
Seem to keep
Doing to [with?] me
It is always
The most dry
…just before it rains
It felt like
It was raining
All the time
-it still does
…but now
It is a different kind of rain
Cleansing
Clearing
Refreshing
Painting
-in new vivid colors
All that I see
All that I smell
Dark…
Is not as dark
Desperate…
Is less hopeless
Hope…
Oddly blooms
Like a flower in the desert
My life isn’t
Different
Hasn’t changed
…but I have
I see that I can
Go back
To my
“Self made trap”
I…
Don’t…
Wanna
I…
Like it
Out here
…with You

By Brian N.