Colorado Dreaming: The Journey

We are a "get there" culture of people. "Are we there yet" is not a question, but an expectation that demands an answer. But in midst of getting there and a preoccupation with the destination, we have missed a miracle. The mystical is lost. We lost the power of the mystery, while grasping at spoilers. Our wonder is on the milk carton. I must be intentional about the process, because I too am impatient. If want to savor life, I must appreciate its every taste and bite. When I am tired of the drive and making "good time" is more important that "the time" I devalue the lesson my Jesus is teaching me. If I hope to receive the present, I must first "be present". Because more times than not, the journey is just as important as the destination.

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Day 19: Write in Someone Else’s Voice

The Coward The boy’s voice awakened the man. He found shelter in the abandoned school, in what was once, his school, his office. Eleven, twelve, and thirteen year old students once ran down those halls, hurrying to their classes, hurrying to his English class. Now since the incident, no children survived that massacre. That thought made the man shake with fear until he drifted off to sleep. So when the man heard the boy’s voice screaming “Help Me!, Please Help Me!” it shook the man from his sleep. The man laid still. His heart pounded as he waited to hear boy again. “Help me! Please Somebody!” The man heard the boy loud and clear. He could not pretend it was some animal or dream. He knew it was a boy. And it paralyzed him. The man clutched his knees to his chest and tucked his chin. He took slow deep breaths, silent breaths, hoping the boy would believe he was on his own, ...

The Force of Divorce (part 1)

I don’t think we truly understand what divorce is and why God hates it. For example, if I gave you the Merriam Webster’s definition of divorce, the action or instance of legally dissolving a marriage , more than likely you'll find that definition insufficient. If you are divorced or your parents are divorced, you know that definition lacks depth and substance. It’s like a survivor of a devastating hurricane describing his experience as “I witnessed a tropical cyclone with winds of 156 mph that was accompanied by heavy rain thunder and lightning.” You know that surviving a category 5 hurricane is bit more involved than announcing a weather report. (Ask anyone who survived Hurricane Katrina.) And yet every survivor’s story is unique and personal. I especially believe we don’t get what divorce does to our children. I’m not saying that I completely understand it either. I’ve never been divorced, (not even close), but I do know how it affected me as a kid. ...

She Knew Me. (My Tribute to Dr. Maya Angelou)

I didn't know her as one knows a neighbor a relative or a friend she was not in my list of contacts or photographs or yearbooks of a time long ago no, i did not know her but she knew me she definitely knew me she knew my pain, my struggle her words, songs, poetry they checked my pulse gauged my temperature measured my resolve her suffering leveled my consciousness she was quite acquainted with joy, pain silence, sound, standing, dancing stillness and marching on she defied invisibility and found her place centerstage I loved her for it no, I did not know Dr. Maya Angelou but she knew me she definitely knew me.

love is an offering

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