The force of sorrow silences rehearsed speech, freeing experimental expressions that meet the true needs of a given moment. The needs are more often than not bathed in hidden tears that rain over the heart. Heart speak of the beat of the true drummer.
I listen for this to reveal when speech has been transcended by the delight that words would dull. Something revealed that is too good not to be true.
One-upping too
It’s all about you
while stepping over me
thought you were through
one-upping me
how was I
when you were
one-upping me
I was stopped so I
could make it about you
Fits all, befitting no one. Causes fits, but benefiting only one.
The majority of words that I hear others speaking about others is more due to a lack of judgment from a racing mind. A racing mind sees no faces. The crowd is even faceless. Poor judgment rules and increasing anxiety threatens any question that is brought. Heart and mind are divided thus dividing others into divisions that have no common goal other than to win at all costs. The victory can rarely be justifiied as to its value of devaluing others.
Guidance is rarely clear from a racing view. And even when clear, cloudy judgment often fogs over right action in a desperate need to be right even when wrong. A racing mind is trying to make sense of the senseless. Common sense becomes uncommon unless one stops to truly think through rather than define what one wants to be true.
What is true and obvious that is overlooked because of what you want to be true?
Today is her birthday. She was 21 in Fort Bragg when I was born. She is 5 ft. tall and was a expert marksman as a young girl. She could dance, sing, write, entertain, but most of all love and understand. She is the daughter of a banker and a mayor. She is the unofficial mayor of the KY town in which she lives because of her knowledge of its history and her profound wisdom of how relationships work.
If she were mayor of New York, she would be the glue holding the bridges together between the protests and actual change. She would be standing in the gap between, connecting, and creating an intersection of all parties with measurable progress somewhere between the realistic and idealistic .
She would not have to be liked, but she would be loved. Why? Because she has the progressive wisdom based on themes of both sides, a win/win. She brings the right answers to the right questions. Each party would know that they were understood, but understood in a way that the city would progress without 100% agreement.
She displays patience born out of wisdom, yet gets things moving that can be done now.
A shout out to you, Mom! Happy Birthday!!! The leaders should be calling you with all those who know you today to say "Happy Birthday".
ton fils.
Click here for a former post about her.
Omniscient. Omnipresent. Omnipotent. The room, prepared.
Standing out front of ages, rages, sages, and cages. Transforming purpose into reality by disciplining undisciplined hidden faults and removing secret unbelief in those who are tempted to doubt the vision. Shake up, rattle, and roll.
The reviving breath that turns loneliness into solitude. The driving force that puts the heart to the metal,then the peddle to the metal.What can follow is the harder ideal of honoring and empowering others through the ordeal of honor and power.
The fear of waiting, the loss of power of observation, and the cause of misinterpretation.
If there ever was an opportunity to use a model for fatherhood to a son, it was he. I look back on my childhood never wondering why I missed out on anything
Human passions and human anxieties. It's in line, not online, how order is restored in chaos. Drawing the right line in the sand is necessary. Leadership is required. Psalm 11:3
A timid step that requires a sign should lead to a bolder faith. Otherwise, the fleece will fleece, not inform and inspire.
The disagreements and conflicts that come from differing values create confusion and chaos.
This Christmas tree pictured on the left was my sister Lore's absolute favorite decoration during the holidays for her home in Murray, KY. For the last decade 24/7, the lights on that tree have remained lit in my house as a symbol of her since her unexpected passing on this date in 2004. When I look at the tree, I see Lore, and it still remains the first thing I notice each time I walk into my house, especially at night.
Losing Lore was unexpected, although she had suffered physically for many years. I often spoke with her about the woman in Mark 5 who was in a similar position. I sent her the 9th chaper in the Pursuit of God by Tozier when she was around 35. It's titled Meekness and Rest and is one of the most powerful chapters written in any book outside of scripture to me. To see her embrace her faith and her own beauty at even deeper levels after reading that was stunning.
Lore's faith was as real as anyone that I had known. The two ministers who spoke at her funeral each prayed for the faith she displayed in her life and suffering.
Even to this day I continually think of her when I try to imagine what it's like to be away from the body and with our Lord spoken of by Paul in 2 Corinthians 5. Knowing whom she is with is how that imagination transcends doubt into hopeful anticipation. Through Lore to Christ is how my mind is often comforted or stabilized on any given day.
She was 43 with the heart and imagination of a child we're called through to Christ. The fountain of her youth never stop flowing by tears and laughter, repentance and forgiveness.
She is still the woman in the mirror when I am unable to find the man in the mirror who has the son in him.
The intimacy I shared with my sister was unparalleled in unconditional love and tenderness. Nothing had to be hidden. Laughter was a part of joy and sorrow that kept a vital balance internally and eternally for her and me, even if temporarily lost by feelings or circumstances.To display this intimacy, I share with you the letter on the left that she wrote that year, exactly 2 months prior.
The true pearl harbor.
Removing loco motives.
Wait lifter.
A spiritual calm in the midst of chaotic emotions, moods, or circumstances. Beauty in the grime of life.
The password of the peace meal that banks on the river of the living water.
