Episode 39 (or somethin)

"So like I was saying... the captain of the Enterprise decided in classic Star Trek fashion, that it was a good idea to move towards the black hole, which they knew nothing about. It happens every other episode, every time they approach the "unfamiliar" object things get all crappy...."

I think it was the combination of words not often used in everyday conversation that brought my attention back to his story.

"I'm sorry, are you talking about Star Trek... were we even talking about anything remo--"

"No, but I've learned that if you transition with 'speaking of which' or 'on that note', you can plug a Star Trek story into just about any topic."

It had been a long day and the emotional roller-coaster I was on had my world spinning. It felt something like a bad dream gone worse, the lap bar holding me securely refused to release and I was left to make sense of the blurs around me with this crazy motion of my heart. Spiritually speaking, I was slowly being set free, yet at the time all I could feel was the re-breaking of bones that had mistakenly set. Not breaking. Splintering.

..."and it was ridiculous because Data was slowly... and ...."

Embarrassed by my more than usual inattentiveness I was thankful not to be the only one in Sean's audience. I hoped he didn't notice as I tried to catch up nonchalantly. My eyes refocused to the booth we had been lounging in, I sipped some sweet tea and tuned in just in time to hear him wrap things up.

..."so in the end, after all the drama of trying to escape the physical pull of the vortex, they decided to just go through the black hole continuum."

"Right," Courtney had gotten comfortable now, relaxing out of necessity. "What happened?" I assumed she was just being polite. Three nerds had to be above the capacity for one booth, especially one in a college town sports bar.

"The weirdest thing, nothing. After they passed through, everything on the other side was exactly the same. After all that fighting it, the chaos, and confusion with the crew, the projected damage to the ship... they came out unaffected."

I wondered what it was all leading up to. I'm sure we all looked, for a moment, like members of the Enterprise... hoping the far off look in the captains eyes didn't mean what it had in the past.

Full speed ahead. Aye-Aye, captain.

"This totally wasn't where I was going with the story but it just made me realize, that sometimes you can't help but surrender to the circumstance. And when you do, when you let go and hope for miracles, that's when the tragedy ends. It was their fighting with uncertainty that did the damage."

At that moment I knew Sean had received a promise. By obeying the prompting of His heart, stepping out on faith, and sharing his struggles to a group of college aged strangers... he had been set free. He may not have sensed it, his heart had been on a crazy ride, but the guy sitting in front of me was no longer bound to the uncertainty of his struggles. I've loved him as my brother, but now there was an excitement for him, for his life. Maybe it was life I was seeing. A moment of lifted torment, it was brilliant.

I was again taken back by the mysterious way God moves. How he speaks through us to one another, sometimes so that the speaker them-self can hear the needed truth more clearly. With our Abba's infinite power and unrelenting love for us, how do we ever think He wouldn't be blowing us away in things like Star Trek tangents?

Why are my expectations so small? He whispers and by His miraculous grace and love for me...

I hear Him.

It was later that night when I felt myself exhale since... well, since. While twisting my rebellious love-locks, unable to sleep I felt the all too familiar sensation of His peace wash over me. I ache for these moments, have never dictated them, they are a gift every time. I had been thinking of Sean's story, replaying the night. His testimony, our conversations, the many things I've felt God doing all around me. All beneath the gripping, pressing, and dissolving of my heart.

Go ahead. Grind away.

Earlier that day, I was dwelling in my inability to survive the ride; my own two feet would not carry me from this wreckage, not this time. All I felt there was left to do was grip the cold bar, do my best to keep breathing, and ride it out. The blisters on my hands were no match for the jerks of the track and my once kung-fu-death-grip on the now metallic crimson bar had gone slick, to the beat of my slowing pulse. I could have sworn I had calluses for such an occasion but they were long gone. I had been soaking in the love and freedom of complete surrender before the ride began, and the scars of my past had been slipping off me day by day.

I had given up ever fighting a battle such as this and prayed the day would never come.

But now, after fleeing the space time continuum abyss where not even light escapes the pull of the vortex,
I liberated my hands.
Held them trembling to my heart.
Fell to my knees and between sobs fell words only a father could understand,


"All I want is you.

All I want is you.

All I want is you."

Only a Dream

She has no desire to be called beautiful

or hold some affinity in your eyes

Beauty begs to be captured then caged.

Ravaged then tamed.

Like a verse to refresh

our collapsing minds

with the syntax, rhythm, and rhyme

of a sultry silhouette.

an eager moment of

skin

deep

ecstasy

who's climax a prodigious kiss by fire;

to consume and expire.

Taking all but the fading memory.

Call her, "the intrigue who knows well

the tempo of postprandial dissipation".

Beauty carries neither power nor affluence.

It is the cold hand that laces down her spine.

Invasive.

Cryptic.

She can hope for warmth.

Plead for truth,

but has no desire to be found

then lost

beautifully in your eyes

Those eyes...

but to be loved,

to be loved,

to be.

and yet, it was only a dream

a snapshot of life escaping the grave,

the final breath of fate miscarried.

and you can't help but say

she's beautiful.

Beautiful Things

The true beauty I’ve come to know in brokenness comes from beyond me.

When the experience of pain shifts from the slight enjoyment of feeling “almost dead” and therefore more “alive”, to a plea for non-existence. 

Honesty.

When the deepest words fall light and easy, their weight evaporating before reaching my listener’s ears.

Simplicity.

By the same tired breath, walls come crashing around heavy arms and I realize that I’ve been the one holding them up around me. 

Effortless.

I thought I was safe inside my own prison of hopelessness and despair. 

Bondage.

The uncertainty of walking in freedom is no longer enough to keep me bound. 

Escape.

The lie that there would be hope for my heart within these walls has been utterly and painfully disproven.

Surviving on faith.

A promise made between a little girl and her savior has been kept. 

Believe.

I’ve been called “gorgeous”, but would much prefer dust… 

Identity.

And tonight I can’t help but feel that beautiful things are right around the corner. 

Miracle.

Psalm 103:14

now... we can get started.

Im sitting in an empty room. My skin is warm, touched by comfort... like drifting still in a steady tide. I'm holding my breath not out of longing, or even hope... but because I'm afraid to make waves as I float through this empty canvas. It's taken the better part of 25 years to let go of my life. To surrender to the current with my Savior on speed dial. I've even learned to find rest in this place as others look on in terror. Why? I don't know. I suppose I disrupt some equilibrium they've been incubating in... my hand seizes as I paint that last line. My mistake... wipe it clean? 

I've been living this past year in this tempo where I forget that I wasn't made, created, designed... to know everything. My nature is to create rules, lines, boundaries, systems to fall on with every possible circumstance. My nature tells me that this is comfort. The lover of my soul has proven different. He reminds me to keep my eyes on Him. Coaxes down my weapons of battles passed and floods me with His love. Engulfing me. This is where He heals me, more than that... this is the one place where I can beexactly who I was made to be. Everything else ravages my heart, the scars ofmy forgetfulness are many.

There is a story buried so deep inside me. A voice. It isn't filtered well through reason, logic, or any man's theology. Doing so only creates more layers to sift through. Lies and attempts to explain, define, paint a picture or just draw a line to justify my very beginning. It is so far from me. Every time I have tried to handle my elephant(s) in the room, I'm left on an empty stage. Broken and hopeless. 

He reminds me... He stills me... He gently pleads... "Let me be the one you go back with? Let me navigate you through this? Let me be the one to show you how beautiful you are, please. I've been waiting..." He acts like He doesn't know, this is what I've always wanted and never knew how to ask. Now, I'm desperate to be free from the image people paint and call my life, from every rebuttal I throw up against them in adesperate plea, "Can I just be?" My voice is shrill. Desperate. 

I'm trying to survive this empty place alone... No one hears me. Everyone tells me what I'm saying through their filtered, comfortable, incubated heart. No one tries to understand. Truth is, no one can. 

Call it into question. Your nature tells you to do so. Begin to search for some truth or solution, something black and white. Go ahead. It's what you need to feel at ease. But out of love I ask, wouldn't you rather be free? 

My heart refuses to get back in your cage. Not out of stubborness or spite, but because I have something greater than your trained ability to reason me there. I have Him. I'm doing a giant cannon ball into His relentless river and looking forward to it sweeping me far away. I'll pray you follow soon after, love you regardless, but I have nothing left to keep me here... not even the hope that by my power I could take you with me. For this and every bit of the brokenness I am thankful.