Trust is an ongoeing decision.

Before I type anything to make a new blog post, WordPress tells me, “Share your story here….” My story about the last two weeks is long and really isn’t worth sharing. There is probably a lot I could tell you, but rather I am going to leave you with a short encouraging note.

Do you all know the sotry in the Bible about the disciples on the boat in the middle of the storm while Jesus is sleeping? Well, I feel a bit like them. I’m shaking Jesus’ shoulders, begging him to wake up and stop the wind and waves. What does he do? He turns over and says, “Nah, you should take a nap too.” I say, “Great! We’re gonna drown.” (And because Jesus is funny,) He says, “The only way to walk on water is by looking at me.” I reply back sassily, “That’s like combining to different Bible stories, but okay, whatever.”

There is always an end to a storm, whether that is Jesus stopping it or whether that is us tying ourself down to the rail so we don’t get blown off the ship while the storm rages on and eventually peeters out. We pray that the storm stops before it can get really nasty, and sometimes Jesus does “wake up” and calm the wind and waves. A lot of the time, though, we think God is late. We went through the front of the storm, the eye of the storm, and now we’re in the worst part, the tail of the storm. However, God is never late. His timing is always perfect. What we might call premature, is on time. What we might call late, is on time. 

In each part of the storm (the beggining, the eye, or the tail) it is our choice to trust God. Sometimes we have to choose it several times in the beggining, several times in the middle, and several times near the end. Trust isn’t a one time decision. It is ongoeing. We choose to choose it everyday. 

You can tie yourself down and freak out, or you can nap. And think, even if the ship does go down, you can still walk on water if you look at Jesus.

“Dude, if the ship is going down, I might as well go with it. I don’t want to live through a storm anymore. End it while I can.” Harhar. Sure, but you’ll never know what you could have had if you stuck it out and had a little faith. God doesn’t allow us to travel through stormy seasons just so he can have fun watching us struggle. He wants to watch us grow, and with growth comes rewrad. Who knows, maybe this is the rain you need to water your dry ground.

My advice? Choose trust.

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While She Breathes

She sits

In her pocket of the world

Unperturbed by toxic kisses

Eyes closed

She carves designs

Into her skin–

Swirls and lines–

With her fingernails

On her thighs

 

She sits

In the quiet atmosphere

Half asleep

Tired from

Sleazy men and

Their slimy words

She rubs her hands

Along the fabric of her skirt

Trying to remove the ramains

Of the cheesy pick-up lines

Texted to her and

Her own stupid replies

 

She sits

Calmly

Her eyes are closed

Her hair falls soft brown around her shoulder

She sits

Undisturbed by the world that waits for her

Outside the door

Out On 27th 1/2 St.

Fifth generation home.

70s shag carpet.

Linoleum kitchen floors.

Squeky Lazy Suzan.

Slamming screen door.

Running barefoot down

A gravel driveway

Passed tall green pines,

Surrounded by cornfields,

Mosquito infested swamps, and

Crickets and spring peepers.

Running on deer trails

Through purple brambles,

Gaining blackberry stains

And small scars,

Searching for buried treasure:

Sun bleached bones.

 

The skull hung in the garage.

I wish we still lived there.

The World Above.

There was the sun, and stretched out before it was a sea of fire. Taan and Yulius sat on the edge of an island drifting through the sky. It was one cloud, constantly shifting and drifting from one point in the universe to another. They watched the sun slip around to the other side of the world knowing that, once it was gone, they could swim in the inky black, sometimes blue, ocean, and float with the stars. They had to wait until the sun set though or else they would burn and fall to the world below, where people called their falling bodies shooting stars. Taan recalled how people below would make wishes on the shooting stars and take pictures of them. From their perspective, he guessed it was beautiful; although, this was a hard concept to convey to Yulius.

 “One day, I want to go down there,” Yulius said. He leaned back on his hands.

 “You wouldn’t like it. Everything is muted down there,” said Taan. “Besides, after this, I promised to take to you to the forest.” 

 “What do the people down there think about the forest?”

 “They call it lightening, and they call the sound thunder. You wouldn’t understand them, Yulius. Trust me. You wouldn’t like it.” 

 The sun disappeared. Taan stood up and without further waiting, he stepped off the cloud and dropped down among the stars. Yulius followed shortly after, dropping the subject of the world called Earth.

Loving Her is Like a Random Simile

I cringe so much just thinking about this. For one of my classes, I had to write a bad poem. Naturally, bad poems should never be shared with the world, nonetheless, here is mine for all too see. WARNING: your eyes will hurt after reading this.

Looking at her was like looking at the sun.

The stars were hung in her eyes.

She was stuck to my shoe like gum.

Tasting her was like tasting my mother’s cherry pies.

I swear this girl had my heart on the run.

I should have seen her lies.

 

She was my bane.

I was hardly sane.

I should never have gone back.

It was like a never ending heart attack.

Now she has me trapped.

I’m practically kidnapped,

And I don’t want to leave.