.: the art of being listened to :.

I find that I am somewhat hesitant these days to enter into any sort of conversation. There is often far too much going on for me to stay in tune with what another soul is bearing to me. I do not mean to look away, but my attention flies to whatever seems more exciting at the moment. Why can I not keep my focus on their heart? Oh, wait... did I return the movie I rented last night? It seems like my mind is forever clearing off the mental notes that tend to clutter that space. It is not that I am careless about their story. Rather, I am taking seconds at a time to dial into something I was wrestling with before they arrived on the scene. But then the thought enters my head; how am I to know that the same is not being done in exchange for my own failure to visual prove that I care? Love would have us to listen. It would have us to care deeply for what is being presented to us. So how can I carry another person's burden when my own seems always threatening to crush me? I want to care. Believe me, I do! But there are moments of each day that cause me to get caught up in what is happening here and now; in me, for me, to me, with me. So forgive me if my eyes fill up with those clouds that imply distraction. I guess no one's story is more or less important than the one resting in the body across from me. But I refuse to be ushered into a contest of comparing who stands closer to tragedy or mystery. I cannot believe that this has happened to you. But you are going to have to let me off the hook on this one, as well as so many to follow. These words are constantly coming at a time in which I feel on the edge of complete brilliance. Release me to wander away for the sake of recovering bits of misplaced strength. How can anyone say that we owe this to them? Though I must admit, how sad that we as a culture have moved beyond the opportunities that lay all around us to invest in another heart. We feel that what lies beneath the surface is apparently closer to real life than anything else we have seen thus far. Maybe we could learn what it looks like, if only we could cut into our own habits and intentions. At the end of the day, how many times did each of us use that conversation to make something better of ourselves? In what ways did we improve our lives on the basis on that discussion? Not one of us escapes the trap of making our own standing ground more solid. All of us establish our position that much more, and root ourselves that much deeper into our growing (yet always changing) convictions and experiences. It is quite possible that it is not as bad as it seems. But who am I to tell you? And who are you to make me believe it is not true? We must take the risk of finding that few truly care about what is stealing joy and peace from our souls. They are only looking for peace of heart and mind themselves in the words that were exchanged. As for me, the distractions and obligations in my life have stolen opportunities to genuinely show my brother or sister that I hurt when they hurt. Right or wrong, who is to say? But those who would utter an attempted answer are probably caught in the same search as myself.

.: new additions :.

I finally found some time to redo parts of my blog, as well as trim off some of the unusable excess (i.e., links that haven't worked for years). Feel free to peruse the page and look for some of the sweet additions! Stay tuned for fresh writings coming down the pike.

.: a mirage of perception :.

My heart feels broken, but it lacks the strength to truly voice its concern. I feel like I have had the wind knocked out of me. They aren't going to get it, are they? No matter how much I know myself, there are so few with ears to hear. Who wants to be preached at? Who wants to feel like someone has the upper hand, for that matter? No matter what I do, I will be misunderstood time and again. Where is the hope in that? My journey has brought me beyond the quest for recognition, but now I only feel like no one recognizes me at all. The freedom of these words is that I can express my heart and keep some distance from their responding power. I see beauty all around me, but am scolded for naming any of it. One of my fears is that despite my efforts to keep pieces of me hidden, those that drag them out only succeed in misreading my directions. I take a risk and offer some sort of advantage, but that too is misconstrued. I thought love would call me out but it appears now to be silencing far too many of my expectations. And maybe I was wrong all along for imagining what life looked like over the line. Stillness has offered itself to now serve as my reply. Don't come after me. Don't try and solve this. Do not think that you hold the key. Wait... stop! Do you really believe that? The tale has taken turns, no doubt. But I never expected such disinterest in my surroundings. I need new life, a theme that accompanies the prospect of new fears. To be understood is the foundation of my story. To be known, loved, no excuses for my failures but grace beyond limits... even when I fail to ask for it. I hate thinking that this too will offer them any kind of advantage. But at some twisted level, power exists to be exploited. There are those soon coming that will control my future. Will I give them that privilege? Do not think that you can know me by deciphering these terms. These are at best fragments of all that is unfolding. And maybe they are only attempts to stir some interests, to get someone to listen, or to grab hold of a power that I happened upon years ago. Question my motives to your heart's content. You will never know, beyond lingering thoughts of trust.

.: heeding the call ourselves :.

We are so far removed from the practice of self-care. We have forgotten what it looks like to nurture our inward heart and life. We have allowed ourselves to put on a "holy performance", all the while drying up inside. We need fresh words spoken to our souls. We need new life ushered into the spaces of us that are dull or have grown apathetic. We need a transforming work that continually takes hold of us and removes all hidden agendas of building our own temporary kingdoms. The Spirit of God longs to bring that new life into our hearts, to breathe that new life into our lungs. He desires for us to be in the sort of place where we are filled with new songs of praise in response to His ongoing acts of redemption. Unfortunately, we have learned to no longer be fully present. We have grown used to simply not being ourselves. Maybe because we have been burdened with the directing forces of those who claim to have all the answers. Maybe because we have failed to keep that vision of our life - who we were, who we now are, as well as who we have been called to be - before us always. Maybe because the work of restoration does not happen naturally. And maybe it is purely because the routines of our lives consist of what needs to be done rather than what ought to be done... what we have to do to stay plugged into the truest source of real life. Have you and I forgotten how to live? I am not talking about just existing, but rather living the sort of life that is filled and taken up with the passion of offering that life to others. But that must begin with us. We need the ground below our own heels in order to have the required position to draw others away from imminent danger. That calls for a vitality about our spiritual life that burns within us week/month/year-long. Are we committed to something deeper than just our own survival? We need real life, the kind that lies beyond getting caught up in the supposed promises of career advancement. We need genuine love and intimate connections that unite us with the unending movements of the Living Spirit. We need to incessantly be renewing our vision for Christ and His work within us. We cannot give ourselves permission to grow cold - that is nothing less than a life from the Enemy! I guess that begins with me. That begins with my choosing to recklessly throw myself before the throne of God. That starts with my making the time to discover Him in new ways, rather than merely waiting for it to happen to me. The dawning of that new life that stands ready to burst within me only originates from the fresh seeds that I plant within me. And that only works when I participate with the Father, when I remain committed to what He is doing (even beyond the things I see that may cause me to mistrust His heart), and when I look and linger for what He has been waiting to bring greater growth to in terms of my faith and life. But until that becomes a concern of mine, I will continue to move forward on the fumes of works done so long ago. His work remains a new one... one that extends rich joy into our hearts and light into our eyes.