write by the light of the moon ...
Last night was one of those "ahhhh" moments that I never seem to have enough of anymore. I went to Bible study, and I was sort of in a weird mood ... I just felt off-kilter, I'm not even sure why. So I sort of avoided the usual small talk afterward and hopped in my car ... heading home, or so I thought. As I approached the expressway, I decided I needed to drive. So I went to one of my old favorite spots down by the lake -- probably about 20 minutes away from my apartment. This particular spot is right near a park, and officially the park shuts down at dusk. Well, seeing as it was about 10:15, it was way past dusk. To my surprise, the gates to the lakeside parking lot were open. I pulled into the lot, at first trying my best to keep my headlights from disturbing the people in the parked cars, doing whatever they were doing ... and then fighting the temptation to turn on my high beams, honk the horn, and zoom around the lot to interrupt whatever type of activity was taking place in those dark automobiles.
Finally I found a picnic table close to the lake, away from the many trees that fill the park. I had a clear view of the starry sky, and a clear view of the waves lapping gently on the rocks in front of me. For the most part it was peaceful and I felt like I could breathe again. I started praying, and soon my prayers found a melody and turned into a song. I went with it and eventually had an entire song ... just to prove to myself that it really just happened, I all but ran to my car to grab my notebook. There were no lights in the parking lot, so I found my way to a big rock in the middle of the grassy area there ... and I seriously used the light of the moon to see the words as I wrote them on the page.
Here's the song. I know it's completely not from me, but I'm still amazed that God can even somehow give something like this to a big dope like me.
The world's so loud around me,
I find it hard to hear Your voice.
But You're always there, reaching out
Amid the clamor and the noise.
When will I learn to just stop the struggle and the strife?
When will I learn to love You,
When will I learn to give You my life?
Slow me down.
Quiet me.
Help me hear and help me see.
You're the God of ebb and flow,
You're with me wherever I may go.
I grab at empty things,
I try to satisfy myself.
But they always fail,
How can this rubbish compare to Your wealth?
Like the stars in the sky,
You know just where I am.
You have shaped me, You illuminate me,
I'm formed by Your hand.
Slow me down.
Quiet me.
Help me hear and help me see.
You're the God of ebb and flow,
You're with me wherever I may go.
Though the waves crash and the clouds roll in,
Your steady love calms me ... as I cry out again ...
(Slow me down ...)
After all of this came out, I felt so relieved. It was like that "off" feeling that I had all night was finally gone. I felt like I had purged myself of some unidentifiable weight. Or rather, that God had taken that weight from me. Funny thing too, after I prayed some more and just gazed at the stars for a while, I walked back to my car ... just as the park patrol was coming down to kick people out. Talk about God's perfect timing.
The ebb and flow thing came to mind as I watched the waves and thought of a poem/prayer I read once ... "A Prayer to the God of Ebb and Flow," by Thomas Merton. You can find it here:
http://www.fsumc.org/lent/0215.html
That's all I have for now. God actually gave me another song this morning -- I don't know what's going on, but I'm not going to get in the way. :) I'll wait to share that one though.
deep lions and sweet slices
I was fortunate enough to spend the end of my Friday evening in a crowded bar, listening to the musical genius of John Vanderslice and Pedro the Lion. What an amazing show. I'm not even sure I can verbalize how great this show was. But it was good. The venue (
www.mohawkplace.com) was great too.
Anyway, I could definitely write more, but I fear I will take away from the mystery of the following simple statement: they rocked. I did not want to go home. But eventually I had to, because the place was closing down, and I still had an hour+ drive home, and I was getting tired, and I only had $2 in my pocket ... anyway, you get the drift.
Definitely check out these fellas if ever you have the opportunity.
dirty, musty pots
I like plants. I don't claim to be a botanist or really know one genus or species or whatever from another ... I just like the idea that there is this living organism in front of me, and I can watch it grow and change, and that somehow I can actually be involved in this process -- simply by throwing some water in the plant's direction now and then, and placing it near a window where it can get some light. How wild is that, as if I actually really know what all is involved in this thing processing light, water, and nutrients and somehow turning that into energy.
Truth be told, I like playing in the dirt. I always have. When I was younger and my sister was in the house playing with her Barbies, I was sneaking away her other Barbies and burying them in the backyard. Ok, so Barbies aren't really the same as mums and daisies, but the common denominator is the dirt. Something about the feel and smell of dirt, I don't know ... I think I'm just weird.
Anyway, back to the point. Over the weekend, I actually had some free time to do some stuff around my house. I discovered some forgotten dirty clay pots alongside of my house, and I decided they needed to be filled. So I went and visited my local garden store, and bought a few plants and some flowers, and I went to town. Now let me tell you, these pots were UGLY. They were all dirty, and they smelled a little from the dead plants that I had left in them from last fall ... so I cleaned them up a bit, and pulled out the lifeless, dried up flowers. I dusted away the cobwebs and filled them with new bright-colored mums. The change was incredible. These pots that had served no purpose (except to be covered by weeds and grass) now had a use. They had a meaning. Their role was to hold these flowers, for passersby to look at and admire. And I couldn't help but remember 2 Corinthians 4:7: "But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us." So that's me. I was the dirty, musty pot ... and God found me, covered by the weeds of my life ... and He cleaned me up. He gave me a new purpose, and He filled me with beauty for others to look at and admire. Good stuff.
Something that happens now and then with my houseplants is that they outgrow their pots. The life is so abundant that they need more space to grow and further their beauty. That's how our lives should be ... we're just these pots that should be overflowing with the life and beauty that God provides. And the beauty should spill into other lives (pots) because it is growing and flourishing in our own lives.
So I want to be a pot. Good thing, because I already am one. I'm a dirty, broken, smelly pot ... but God dusts away the cobwebs, pulls out the lifeless junk that's filling me, and somehow gives me a new purpose of holding something beautiful for others to see.
Cool.
High times and low motivation
Wow, that trip was amazing. You can check out some of the pics
here (I'm still new to all this web stuff ... I don't know if that link will work or not -- let me know).
And yeh, Darcie, I've been wanting to get my rear to Tennessee ... particularly Nashville. It will soon be high time for a good ol' road trip.
It's also high time for me to do a real post on this blog, but that's another story.
