Written July 13, 2017.
Written July 13, 2017.
Written September, 2018 in Paris, France.
My Maker is in the details
I wrote this poem in some parking lot in Redondo Beach, CA. I love palm trees.
They, like wiry pillars
August has always been one of my favorite months. Why? Because it’s my BIRTHDAY month.
But this year, I just wasn’t that excited about turning another year older. I made sort of a big deal about turning 30 (went to Europe for two months on a solo adventure), so when 31 started looming at the beginning of this summer, it just felt sort of…anticlimactic. Especially after a year that’s felt more challenging than usual.
So, I decided to do something special: 31 days of poetry for 31 years.
Before you read one bit further, I should warn you that this salad was born out of an attempted 2-week commitment to a really, really strict eating regimen – the keto diet.
In the Church, we talk a lot about breakthrough. Breakthrough is big. Breakthrough is dramatic. And breakthrough is instantaneous.
Lately, I have been sorting through some unmet expectations: Things that didn’t go according to plan (my plan), or weren’t as they seemed (to me). I have, as we all often are, been disappointed over the last several years in various ways – in my career, in love, in where I thought would be now (that is, age 30).
The most basic of human instincts is to avoid pain.
When we feel cold, we put on a jacket. When we feel hungry, we eat. When we’re abused, we run, or fight back to stop it. We’re built to avoid falling down, wired to not step out in front of a moving vehicle, and taught to pursue survival, comfort, and safety.
Lately, I’ve felt God speak to me through the idea of soil.
It’s sort of funny, because I don’t garden. In fact, I’ve never grown a plant, vegetable, fruit, or flower in my life. I grew up on asphalt, mowed grass, and pool water. Far from any farm or vegetable patch (Though I’ve always loved the phrase “vegetable patch,” because it sounds sort of inviting and yummy).
Nonetheless, I believe there is much to learn from nature, and the substances and cycles of nature – even if we’re not well acquainted with them in our daily lives. Jesus used a lot of farming analogies to explain faith and life, and I think we should try to make an effort to understand them. So, soil.
I believe we’re all wired to be storytellers. You may not be great at remembering details. You may not have that cadence and timing that makes an otherwise pretty ordinary event extra dramatic, or funny, or suspenseful. Regardless of all of that, you do tell stories – even if they are only the stories you tell yourself.