love will.

love will make you dizzy.
in fact, it will ruin you.
it has the power to warm.
it has the power to freeze.
gone right, love moves mountains.
gone wrong, love shatters emotions.
with love, life is amplified.
without love, life is numb.
try not to disguise your love.
you don't have to guess if you do.
love will.

Waiting

Why is waiting so hard? What is it about waiting on something that drives us as humans crazy? Is the build up of anxiety too great for some? Is there a pending sense of doom that drives us mad? What if we are hurt by waiting for something? What if the waiting is the purpose in the first place? Are you waiting?
What are you waiting for? Answers, mail, love, news, a call, a message, an email, healing, brokenness? Can you choose from one of these? Is yours different from the list? If so, what are you waiting on? Could it be that you don’t know what you are waiting on in the first place? Are you scared about the answers? I know that many times, answers scare me the most.
I’ll be honest, I feel like I’m waiting all the time. I’m waiting to figure out how someone feels. I’m waiting on answers from God. I’m waiting on mail from home. I’m waiting for healing. I’m waiting on love. I’m waiting on a friend. I’m waiting on definitions. I’m waiting for my heart to break.
There is so much I’m waiting on. What would it be like if we got answers immediately? Think about it. You are wondering one day if you will fall in love, and BAM, you get your answer immediately. She turns her head and says, “Can I fall in love with you.” He bumps into you and asks, “I was just thinking if I’d fall in love, and here you are.” How crazy would it be if things like that would happen?
I think much is learned about personal character during times of waiting. Your strength of character comes shining through. When you are forced to forget about something that you have no answer for, it is hard. You must cope. Coping produces a solution to an underlying problem. For me, I run, swim, or just do something crazy. It’s because I’m waiting. What if I used this time of waiting to trust in something real? What if God became the focus of times where I wait? Be it a few days, a few hours, a few years…you are going to be waiting. So lean on God during that time. It’s hard, and it doesn’t feel like the right thing, but in reality it’s the only thing. Why worry yourself with things that you can’t really control anyway? You should just relax. It’s all going to be okay.

there is...

there is so much I want to say.
there is so much I wish I knew.
there is so much of which i'm unsure.
there is breath in my lungs.
there is life in my emotions.
there is truth in my smile.
there is pain in my tears.
there is strength in an embrace.
this is life.

Penny on the Track

I am on this train.
It is picking up speed and has been for a while.
I can't seem to understand where it is taking me.
I have known for a long time that this train is moving too fast.
What am I supposed to do?
So for a while now, I have just held on.
But ahead, I can see something shiny.
I see it lying on the track.
It is a penny.
I know that if the train hits it,
It is going to derail.
The train progresses,
The penny does not come closer.
When will my train hit the penny?
What will the penny be?
I'm waiting...

Some quotes on love.

Here are some quotes on love...enjoy. identify. feel.

"Love is as much of an object as an obsession, everybody wants it, everybody seeks it, but few ever achieve it, those who do will cherish it, be lost in it, and among all, never . . . never forget it." --Curtis Judalet

"Someone has written, "Love is a verb." It requires doing - not just saying and thinking. The test is in what one does, how one acts, for love is conveyed in word and deed." --David B. Haight

"I recently read that love is entirely a matter of chemistry. That must be why my wife treats me like toxic waste." --David Bissonette

"When you long with all your heart for someone to love you, a madness grows there that shakes all sense from the trees and the water and the earth. And nothing lives for you, except the long deep bitter want. And this is what everyone feels from birth to death." --Denton Welch

"There is no disguise that can for long conceal love where it exists or simulate it where it does not." -- Duc de La Rochefoucauld

Friends

clearly i should be studying, but this is what i'm doing instead...enjoy. 

His tears

Time stops as he enters the room.
All eyes are on him; the stage is his.
He walks wearily to the center of the stage.
His shoes click against the stage.
Someone stifles a cough in the audience.
The lights are warm on his skin.
He sits in the lone chair on stage.
He begins to cry. Tear after tear.
There are no words spoken.
Someone sniffs in the crowd.
Little by little people join the man on stage.
Soon the theater is filled with emotion.
His hurt is pouring out.
He quiets his crying.
He looks up through blurry vision.
“Thank you for listening to my story.”
He exits the stage the opposite way.
The audience makes no sound.
The curtain closes.
No one leaves the same way they came.

Let the Heart Not Love

I try to think of fancy ways to speak of ways my heart feels.
It’s all in vain because this pain speaks words I can’t express.
I told myself my heart would not love. There is no way I can.
Protecting my heart is number one, so I don’t bother with love.
I escape my hurt by masking it deep within myself.
This is not healthy I know, but what is one to do,
When he can not run away from the feelings he holds inside.
It’s true that love is a great thing, and at certain times I confess,
My heart does love in spite of the hold I try to keep on it.
In spite of the world may say, true love is hard to find.
Let the heart not love is what I say.
In doing this, you will keep yourself from harm.
Good luck in doing this though, the heart seems to have a mind of its own.

Still

God’s love runs purer than the clearest water you can find.

Drink deep in the refreshment of his cool waters of grace and peace.

Quiet your mind in the presence of his spirit.

Embrace the silence as his voice grows quiet.

A Single Storm

A single storm rages in the distance. There is something standing in the middle of this storm. All around is clear, but in the middle of the storm stands a young man. He is dripping wet as the wind and rain sweep around him. Even amidst the raging noise and un-clarity, the tears from his eyes are clearly visible. The salt in his tears drips down into the corner of his mouth as he quietly sobs in pain. The storm continues to rage, but another player steps into the scene. No words are spoken as the stranger reaches to put his arms around the man. The crying man receives the embrace and continues to cry now on the opposite’s shoulder. The storm rages, but it’s okay he is being held.

Bathroom Times

You know what I like? Those moments that you know exactly what is going to happen. Those time area amazing. For instance, you walk into a bothroom, and you know exactly what’s going to happen. Say that you have an exam in the next class you are headed to, or you are going to a meeting that could have bad implications, if you go to the bathroom before hand, you have at least 2-3 minutes of time where you know exactly what’s going on. You are going to relieve yourself in your various ways. Whether you are a sitter or stander, folder or buncher, it doesn’t matter. The goal is the same, and for that time frame, you are protected in your cocoon of relief for 2-3 minutes. That’s some good times.

A House Abandoned

The house stand vacant and abandoned in the middle of the field.
The snow covered ground is indicative of the season.
The frost on the windows creeps confidently toward the center of the glass.
A door slides open with the wind encouraging it along.
The stairs to the upper level protest the icy wind as it sweeps upward.
The door to the bedroom blows open as an invitation to look inside.
Swirling around the room are papers from a children's coloring book,
The wind constantly blowing them helplessly.
The window slams shut, and the papers float to the ground.
The wind sucks backwards until the front door slams shut.
Alone. The house has locked itself away.
Flash!
Warm laughter fills the room as the fire crackles with delight.
Children run around the kitchen and up the stairs squealing.
A mother beckons her husband to sit beside her on the couch.
The guests are full, and the hostesses is proud.
A job well done.
Dessert is served as stories from the past with laughter as a garnish.
The guests grow tired as the host and hostesses began saying goodbyes.
With coats and scarfs and gloves adorned, they began their long trek home.
The husband looks at his wife and smiles. She returns the gesture.
They lock their hands as they walk up the stairs to tuck themselves away.
Flash!
The house shivers as it lets out a cry.
No more warmth to keep it alive.
The days are long, and the nights are longer.
The house were we once grew is slowly dying.
It will soon match the two gravestones off to the side.
The wind reminds the house that death is at hand.
The frost grows its final inch to cover the windows completely.
The house no longer makes a noise but quietly settles in peace.
Alone.

A Single Feather

A single feather floats toward the November ground.
It's warmer than usual, and the birds are somewhat confused.
They have finally decided to call it quits,
They are bound for warmer air even still.
I stand and watch the feather floating down.
Naturally, I look up to see its source.
There is nothing there.
I hold out my hand as the feather comes close.
It lands in the center of my palm.
It's so beautiful. Black and white with red flecks.
A wisp of wind blows by and knocks the feather out of my hand.
Out into the street it flies dodging cars with panicked motions.
It's practically unseen. It's going to get crushed!
They must look out! Too late.
The feather is gone. The air is crisp.
I stand with my arms around me.
"At least I got to hold it for a second" I thought.
Maybe I'll see this feather again.
Maybe another feather will drift my way.