dramatic passion

my wife and i picked up the munchkins on tuesday and headed for home before proceeding over to our brother and sister's place for quesadilla night. and as we entered our dwelling place, i could smell the sweet aroma of freshly baked brownies. apparently, my wife had just cooked a batch for the kids and i to snack on prior to dinner. (she's so amazing.)

it took a few minutes for the kids to realize that the brownies were there, but the moment they did, they both wrapped their arms around stepmom in a moment of triumph and joy and exhileration. (in fact, i think time may have stood still for a brief moment.) and then our youngest daughter – in a voice of sheer desperation – says, "i am begging you . . . please can i have some?"

that's when it hit me. i wish i could cry out in the same words and voice to my heavenly father, "i am begging you . . . please can i have some?" but i don't have that same passion for the spiritual right now. there is a part deep inside of me that wants it. i just don't feel it.

and so as i write this today, i cry out to the one who made and formed me, "i am begging you . . . please help me find that passion."

small moment number three

at a wedding reception this weekend, i had the opportunity to tear it up on the dance floor with my wee ones. we danced fast. we danced crazy. and we danced slow. my oldest and i danced to a slow jazz tune in the traditional way – hand stretched out in hand and the others resting on either waist or shoulder. however, when it came time to slow dance with my youngest, i was expecting to pick her up and rock gently back and forth, much like we do at home sometimes. her arms wrapped around me tightly and her head resting tenderly on my shoulder. but she didn't want to be held this night. she wanted to dance the way that grown-ups do.

it was a hard moment for me. it felt like she was starting to pull away. almost as if she would have been embarrassed to be too close to her baba. and although i know that she was simply making a decision to act more grown-up and to dance the way that others were dancing that evening, my heart felt a tinch of sadness. a sadness that had just witnessed the process and quest for independence starting way too soon. god help me, as i search for the balance of encouraging independent thinking and maintaining connectedness and transparency with my munchkins. this will be hard. (pause.) really hard.

not a good small moment for me. not necessarily bad, but not good. i just hope that the one who loves me without any condition will bless us with more good small moments than those that fall into any other category.

(still processing.) small moment number three.

stirred

the dust
of the path
stirs at
my feet
and rises all
around me –
filling the air
with traces
of those
who have
walked it
before.
and suddenly,
my steps
become less
of an activity
and more
of a significant
event –
where i now
feel a stirring
within.

changes

wanting to write this morning, but not quite sure what to write about. as i look out the window and see the leaves changing color, i realize that there are things in me that i want to change. and things outside of me that i want to change. or at least influence in the direction of change. bogged down sometimes by the distractions of life, i miss listening to the voices that are crying out around me. there are some serious needs in the world. and as i sit and write this from the comfort of my own home, i feel a great sense of frustration that others are without so much. food. clothing. homes. love. friends. family. opportunity.

i often think about the way in which our leaders argue back and forth – trying to figure out and present the best approaches for solving things such as poverty. discussions around welfare. around job opportunities. around education. and yes, all of these things may be important. but who's right? the ideas in themselves are all good. but the ways of realizing them are often flawed. i hear people making some pretty serious statements. pros and cons with each approach. and i don't think there is anything wrong with analyzing the best way to help the world with its struggles. the point is to help, right? not necessarily how we help, but to help. and maybe that is the problem. we are consumed by the method instead of the task.

and then i think of jesus and his response to others in need. it's interesting, because i never saw jesus asking others to fill out some kind of application. or offering them a job in exchange for something. he would encourage others and acknowledge their strengths and abilities, but never withhold. he was a giver. meeting needs. speaking of wonders. teaching about the best ways to live. jesus saw the needs around him. and then he did something about them. he met them. not in their entirety. but one need at a time. may i meet the needs of others. and may i let go of my disappointment in not being able to change the world and rather find contentment in my ability to change small things. meeting the needs of those in whom i encounter – one need at a time.

no more than twelve

he was young
but eloquent
in his choice
of words –

thank you
for taking
the time
to speak with us,
to listen to us,
to acknowledge us.
you are a
very kind man.

in silence,
i stood there –
realizing that
i should be
the one
thanking him
for inviting me
into his life.

small moment number two

my wife will often ask me why i'm so cheerful in the morning. (well, not every morning, but some mornings.) and this morning i told her that it was simply the joy of the lord. (a bit of truth there. and a bit of sarcasm.) i then looked at her and said, "don't you have that joy?" shaking her head, she answered, "i do. just not right now."

small moment number two. (smiley face here.)

small moment number one

my youngest daughter has started a journal of "small moments" as part of a routine for her second grade class. it's a pretty sweet idea where you log tiny moments of impact – random moments of impact – with the idea that one day, you will revisit them and utilize them as the inspiration for longer writing assignments.

i've decided that i would like to participate in this simple practice. here is my first attempt.

small moment number one. i'm eating lunch at the dining room table with my two daughters. and as my youngest daughter and i are engaged in a very deep discussion about who received more corn than the other. i explain that even though i may have received more in my first serving than she did, in fact, she received more in her second serving than i. with proud and conspiring eyes, and a look of satisfaction on her face, she responded, "good." it was her moment of victory. a moment where she came out ahead. and although i want to ensure that i do everything i can to help her understand that winning isn't always everything, i recognized this moment of playfulness and chuckled in unison with my oldest. may i never grow tired of eating a meal around the table with my daughters. the magnificent munchkins.

small moment number one.

a room in rutshuru

i struggle
with the lock
on your door –
wiggling,
jiggling,
wondering why
i can’t convince you
to open –
fully capable
but still unable
when finally
we click.

you look old,
deteriorated,
used and
dirty.

and just as
my comfort
begins to feel
forsaken,
i realize
that what you offer
is better
than nine
out of ten
in this world.

humbled,
i comprehend that
i’ve just mistaken
the face
of wealth
for the face
of poverty.

power of touch

holding hands,
we walk the road
as friends.
we’ve only
just met,
and yet i feel
as though
i’ve known you
all my life.

habition

i've known for quite some time that i need to be writing again. writing as a means of expression. writing as an outlet. writing as a healthy means of exercise for the brain. the body. and the spirit. may tonight be the start of a habitual tradition. a habition.