Joy and Pain

Someone asked me what two words define my life. I settled on beauty and joy.

Beauty, because everything is beautiful. There is beauty in the slums, there is beauty in colorless places, there is some speck of beauty everywhere. I was people to see that beauty, and so see the God who made it.

Joy, because life is joy. Love is joy. God is joy. Many people don't realize this. I want them to. I want people to laugh, and to laugh hard, until the tears roll down their cheeks from sheer pure enjoyment. I want to see joy. Because joy is health. And wealth. And happiness.

What are your two words? Think about them. Define them. Live them.

It could make all the difference.

Tears

Sometimes all you need to do is cry. And cry. And cry. Then, once the tears are gone, everything becomes clear.

Tears help because sometimes, we just need to let go. And cry. And not worry about appearances. And cry.

Tears are cleansing. They're the first sign of healing, of feeling enough to let go, and beginning to recover.

The shedding of tears signifies the shedding of remorse, the shedding of pain, the shedding of hurt feelings.

Saltwater is cleansing. Tears are mingled with salt. They clean the heart to feel, the emotions to think, and the face to boot.

I don't cry very often. Maybe I should. Maybe you should cry sometimes too. It's a very helpful thing.

Sounds

Rain beating the walls of my bedroom sings me to sleep some nights. The complete silence of snow brings peace. Crashes of thunder remind me of a God in control of the universe.

Eggs frying make me hungry. Coffee dripping into the pot reminds me of an early morning adventure. The scrape of spatula meeting griddle brings to mind a full house, family, and joy.

Laughter makes me happy. Crying makes me sad. Whispering makes me want to tell warm happy secrets.

God's given us ears for a reason, to hear His sounds.

Listening?

Resolutions

We all make them. Webster defines them as firm decisions to do or not do something. We promise that this year will be different, this year we will do what we have failed to accomplish in years past.

We will work out daily, read 24 constructive classics, visit 2 continents, and make better friends with the neighbors. To help ourselves, we make lists with bullet points, due dates, and rewards. We tell our friends what we're going to do, task them to hold us accountable, and jump in head first. Resolutions fixed upon, preparations made, moral support commissioned.

Sometimes, we even finish what we started.

Resolutions take work. Just like work takes work. Good stuff doesn't come easy. Make your resolutions. Write down goals. Shoot big. Aim high. And do them.

Cause good stuff is worth the work it takes to get there.

Edit

I've been writing for 6 hours, with few breaks. Only, I haven't really been writing. I've been editing. And editing. And re-editing. Reshaping my thoughts, re-wording my phrases, and re-saying every little thing.

Honestly, I don't feel like I've done much. But comparing the first paper and the final product, they're barely the same thing. No surprise, the finished product is volumes better.

Edit.
Rewrite.
Restate.
Reshape.
Improve.
Condense.
Reword.
Redraft.

It pays off.

Little Gifts

God gives us little things He just wants us to enjoy. 

Like sunflowers. 

Iced lemonade. 

Wind. 

He gives them to us just because He loves us, and He wants us to enjoy life.

So, look for His little gifts. Because they're all around you. 

You just have to notice them.

A Way With Words

There are lots of clouds tonight.
The clouds looked like a Labor Day parade across the sky.

Sally and her partner did the waltz.
During the waltz they glided across the floor.

An ordinary boring sentence is converted into a fresh new idea. That's the definition of a way with words. The ability to transform something boring into something interesting. Making a stale idea into a crisp, clear concept. The flair that holds crowds speechless, makes them hang on every word. A certain element of power, being not only interesting and creative, but also thought provoking.

Practice your way with words. Develop the ability to transform ordinary and commonplace into unusual and fresh. You'll be amazed at how easy it is. Give us a run for our money.

Work those words.

Shining

Stars. And watching them.

Laying on the springy grass, listening to crickets wail, and frogs croak, something inaudibly clicks. The darkness surrounds me, and I can almost taste it. But it’s not all dark. Above me, the sky is laden with stars. 

Shining, shimmering, sparkling, they reach down and speak to my soul. I’m reminded that I am small, and that God is bigger than I can even imagine. He created these stars, and He knows the names of every one of them. As I watch them glow, I realize the truth of the verse in Psalms, The heavens declare the glory of God, and the skies proclaim the work of His hands.

 As the stars grow brighter and the sky itself grows darker, even the crickets are silenced with awe. I want to serve God and live for Him forever, because He’s created all this for us, just because He loves us.

Go watch the stars. They're shining soul stuff.

Shattered

I bought two mirrors today. And, shortly thereafter, I dropped large weights on them, and broke them into dozens of pieces.

Then, as if I had changed my mind, I began to piece them into a mirror again. This time, fragmented and puzzled together. Analogies came flooding through my mind, and it was as if gold had been struck.

A broken mirror is like life. Sometimes pieces are whole and clear cut. Sometimes shards are everywhere. But if you look closely, you can always see something good.

A broken mirror is like the way we see things sometimes. If you look at it one way, you just see hundreds of broken pieces. Pain. Heartbreak. Shards. But, if you change the focus, you see the big picture. Your reflection. Which is exactly what we are supposed to be. Reflections. Imperfect and crushed, but reflections nonetheless.

A broken mirror is like sin. When we have sinned, all we see is a smudged, blurry reflection. But, when a strong cleaner is applied, and the mirror is completely wiped, a clear, strong image is visible.

A broken mirror is like a broken heart. It can be pieced back together.

A broken mirror is the way our hearts are supposed to be, open to rearrangement and organization.

Let your heart be broken. Because God will put you back together.

Shattered, but whole.

Grown Up: A Poem?

I'm not overly poetic. But, poetry is it's own entire realm of writing, and since I strive to be a well rounded writer, I have taken a stab at it. Read at your own risk.

Baby. Soft, cuddly, cute.

Do you know how fast the years go?

Now in preschool, drawing on the walls.

Do you realize how soon you'll be grown?

Elementary school daydreams, hopscotch, and hair bows.

Remember how soon grown up things come.

Junior higher. Awkward, lanky, four too many limbs.

Soon you'll be tall, slender, and mature.

Now in high school, almost old.

Recollect times past, all these memories hold.

Remember the first day of school.

Moreover, remember the freedom of innocence,

and the bliss of young-ness.

Never forget that life is what you make it.

Make it worth it.