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Who are you?

What do you see when you look in the mirror…when you think of yourself? Stop a sec…here’s who God sees… You are: A Mighty Warrior who’s already won the battle because of Christ’s victory…so we’re no longer trapped. (Ephesians 6:10-18) “The world is unprincipled. It’s dog-eat-dog out there! The world doesn’t fight fair. But we [...]

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“Adventure is out there!”

Have you forgotten?

Today is a God-made adventure. What’s stopping you from doing great things? Well, it’s probably the 10 hours of homework stuffed in your backpack, the work hours piling up, the schedule of mundane activities that never end . . . and on the list can go. Right?

So, what you need is a little spice and splendor that gives you a good kick out that door. How about . . . hmm . . . I donno – the Savior of the world Who splintered death’s spine and carved out the stars in the sky and . . . and on the list can go. Seeing a pattern yet?

For every mundane thing you do today, God’s standing right there beside you wondering whether or not you really notice. The fact is – for every thing you call “mundane” and “just another day,” God’s made a sunrise just for your day, fine tuned to the very eyes that are expecting His painting colors. For every thing you go through, God’s got something that far outweighs the hardships, the chaos, the dullness, the ______. The answer is not a formula. It’s a relationship.

God’s got the answer to every desire for something new and beautiful and adventurous. So, this is where you come in – get out your aviator helmet and glasses and go fly a plane! Okay, so small steps first – start expecting God to show up. I can’t tell you how many ways He does when you actually look. It’s like a scavenger hunt all throughout your day – and you remember how excited you used to get with those things when you were a kid. Well, with God, it’s much more exciting . . . the prize is friendship with the One Who stole the soul of death and extended His power across the shooting star-laden universe . . . and still He pushed a breath through your hair this morning to wake you up, tickling your eyelashes open.

All He wants is to give you an adventure today. Are you ready?

Plus, spontaneity is pretty fun. Just look at the giraffe, or the blowfish, or the platypus . . . or the human . . . because you know God had some adventure when He rolled out these crazy creatures! The fact is – life is an adventure IF you participate. It’s the conscious decisions that make life an adventure.

Don’t just read this . . .

Everyone’s got a favorite read, a quote, but what’s a great quote without an action…do you have a favorite action? Seriously, words don’t measure up to much without the act on part . . . and the act on . . . well, it kinda needs an i, doesn’t it?

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Your battle

Sorry it’s been a while! Been terrorizing nurses and doctors, as well as starting up with school’s Graphic Design program. So, let’s take a little look at what I’ve been writing…hmm…looks like poetry! Haha, well that’s a good start to a new college semester. I’m trying to hone my nonsensical poet skill (that is, if I even have such a skill). Let’s see what you make of this:

The Shadow

Everyone
has a battle, with armor on or off
You might be going through your
war right now
What would I say to you?

Hold tight, for there is a stillness
that only the eye of the storm can hold
For there is a lighter day,
a treasure
where tomorrow will be brighter
or today, or maybe not in this
life. The good will come
near if you wish it
but remember that those things that are dear
are not to be rushed

God does not rush the good
where evil does indeed take aims to strike
but not rushing
does not mean
not caring
His brush strokes are still
in the picture

It is quite a thing to be held
and shelled by the Almighty
Hand that stunned the sky
with lights hung high
and still gently strung
the leaves on a pine.
It is a thing to be sitting
with the Christ
on a park bench, His
arm around you as He watches
you watching the passersby, pulling
out the umbrella when it begins
to rain.
It is quite a thing to be taught
in such a way as this – your battle.
To be taught how to live
life amidst the hard,
knowing how you must go up
through the guck to see the other side of the mountain
sunrise.
It is quite a thing to know Him,
for without hardship
there would be no cross,
there would be no beauty
in the ashes. There would be
no grace. And what is grace
but the evidence of sunlight
overcoming the darkness
by the once so low shadow it cost?

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Creative Writing Class

What would you do if you had a month to hone your writing skills?

I for one am entirely too excited for words, and that could be a problem, because I just started a Creative Writing summer class at UofL.

For your first assignment, you must write a page about the image of a bumper sticker with the tagline, “I brake for unicorns.” Now, what in the world do you come up with? Serious? Fantastical? Prose? Poetic? I fiddled with a little something like this:

 

The glaring brake lights hit my eyes at the last moment.

The mahogany tagline, “I brake for unicorns,” was smacked onto the edge of the vintage VW’s bumper, squashed between stains of chaotic rust and the newness of a polished, ebony paint job.

Black . . . charcoal, like the color of midnight, the car blended into everything else – everything mute. The ignited frenzy stalled, corroding the perfect sense of serenity before it happened . . . It all spiraled backward – like time held out its hands to push the sequence back from whence it gushed forth.

 

The night rumbled on, the pick-up truck racking its brains out to the tune of another humdrum melody languidly playing on the radio. The pulse of the night sank slowly into the beat of the wind . . . flip, flap, flip, flap, hushhhhhhhh of the dark rows of grasslands galloping by in strides of fanciful laughter.

With my palm pressing itself against a sore steering wheel, I hardly noticed the ache as the wind licked my other hand – out the window.

Sparingly, I took in the sights. There was nothing on which to perch my eyes. Nothing of interest. Everything a blur. Black. Cottony swoons of nebulous nothingness swished past my tired eyes.

My ebony chucks polished off a swift kick to the accelerator. Bah-boom-baa-room-zzzzz!

I blocked out the world then . . . a sorry mistake.

A jolt of lightning splashed the sky like a paint dollop on a fresh canvas. Everything beamed brightly, glaring like the ionic lights on the VW bug – more like a hunk of metal meteorites bursting spontaneously from nowhere.

Fog lights.

Red brakes.

Black.

Textures of ruby, hazy coffee, and golden light careened behind the car that tumbled toward me. Clutching the steering wheel, searing hot nerves pulsed energy through the roof of my head. I jerked my arms to move the car. Everything froze.

Gasp.

Splinters of icy glass shattered before me. Every inch of the windshield collided with my upheld forearms. The car screeched forward, nowhere to turn. Squeezing my eyes shut did nothing for the scenery that just jammed its arms in to open the shutters of my vision. The broken window scattered stinging licks, every slice splashing crimson ticks of tiny glass particles through my skin.

Not enough time for words to scream out.

Everything meshed together.

A world of peace and another of pieces crashed into one realm of unreasonable pain and misfortune. A whirlwind of tirades, the breeze bashed its teeth against the creaking collision.

The VW bumper sliced its way through the windshield, bits and pieces of the mahogany sticker screaming, “I brake for unicorns!” Like a whip, my truck lurched backward, my being hesitating harshly between the impact and the loss of breathing room.

Not a moment later, silence again paraded past – silence that stung one’s eardrums that searched for a timbre of sound.

The truck rum-rum-rumbled in a stalled park – beaten to a standstill. Everything washed back uncertainly as I lowered my bloodstained forearms. Tensely, my pulse bashed through my head in heaps of rhythmic pain. I opened my eyes. The VW – gone. Whoosh. Like a scene from The Wizard of Oz. Everything seemed so still. The windshield – whole. Not a scratch on the surface.

I blinked . . . The mahogany sticker was strapped into the passenger’s seat, covered in shiny glass shards.