Thursday, January 29, 2009
Also, don't know if you're reading this, but really blessed by the two conversations last night. Thanks for sharing.
Remember...blunt instruments, hehe.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
And sometimes the perfect song comes on and I wish the commute were just a little bit longer.
Head over here and take me
Head over heels and aching
When I told you I was yours
I was yours
In this life, you're the one place I call home
In this life, you're the feeling I belong
In this life, you're the flower and the thorn
You're everything that's fair in love and war
I'm coming down like a gunshot
In all these battles I've fought
You're the mark I'm aiming for
I was yours
Head over heels
In this life I'm stubborn to the core
In this life I've been burning after more
We both know what these open arms are for
You're everything that's fair
In this life, you're my only one
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
The closest thing I have yet seen to heaven on earth involves weekends away yearning to see the face of God. To leave the world behind with people of the same heart and of the same mind, though created very differently, united by the same passion to see the Unseen. To repent of selfishness and pride and lust to a Savior that has already taken every burden on His bleeding shoulders. To sing alongside broken people the praises of a God who loves broken people.
The Bible says that heaven is dwelling eternally with God (Rev. 21:3) and forever worshiping before His throne (Rev 4:8). We cannot experience this to its fullest while wearing by these bags of flesh, but we are given glimpses of it. These glimpses and that hope, at least for me, are what make this hard road worth every bump.
It kind of hurts being back at work after such a weekend.
Friday, January 16, 2009
I would be a communist if communism worked,
I would be a politician if politics had worth.
I would be a bully if the bullies ruled the world,
I would buy the biggest sword if swords could pierce the soul.
I would fight a million wars if wars would lead to peace,
I would wear the finest clothes if they hid the dirt beneath.
wrtten in Beijing Forestry University dining hall
Christmas Day 2007
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
There's so much I want to tell you
About my joys my fears my path,
Even when I hear him calling
Even when I feel the nudge,
I let the window close right by me
Lock the door and shut my eyes.
How does the apple fall so far from the tree
That it grows wings and tries to fly away?
There's a bird in the air it is flying
Flying to where it calls home
No sense of direction
The wind tells it where to go.
There's a girl on the stage she is crying
Crying to be left alone
Sick of the monsters inside her
Screaming from her cellular phone.
There's a man in his cage he is dying
Dying to be set free
Empties the change from his pockets
To buy himself some more misery.
It's the broken wing that guarantees your fall,
On shallow dreams and stupid things we bet it all.
When summer goes the heroes know,
The worst is yet to come.
Friday, January 2, 2009
To his street flock, Pannizzo is simply "the Preacherman," who shows up seven nights a week, rain or not, to gently sermonize and hand out sandwiches, blankets and the few dollars he makes through day labor.
Lucid and soft-spoken, he is not mentally ill, by all accounts. Even the police and shopkeepers who monitor his comings and goings say they find this remarkable. They assumed one must be crazy to give up a promising life to sleep in homeless camps and preach to other street people in one of the most violent, impoverished stretches of East Oakland.