I do not know Him

One of my least favorite parables is the parable of the talents. The master gives a sum of money to 3 servants in proportion to how much he trusts them. 2 invest it, come back with double the original amount, and the last one comes back with the same amount. The master is happy with the first 2, and angry with the last, giving the last amount to the first and throwing the 3rd servant out into the darkness. I always thought that was mean.

3 years ago, reading the parable again, I disliked it on a new level. The 3rd servant says, "Lord, I knew you were a hard man...and I was afraid...so I buried it." He didn't freaking lose it. He was worried that he'd use it in appropriately or waste it or WHO KNOWS, and so he puts it in a safe place and then gives it back. No harm no foul, right? Maybe he wasn't good with money. Maybe his dad didn't teach him about investments. But the master gets mad, calls him lazy and throws him into the darkness. I became afraid.

Tonight, I read it again, and prepared myself to become sad/convicted/depressed. And I heard a phrase I had not heard before: Enter into the joy of your Master.

This is the response he gives the first two servants. Enter into the joy of your Master. The joy?? The Master had joy? That was part of his character? He has...joy? And the poor, 3rd servant says, "I knew you were a hard man..." I became disheartened. I felt bad for him.

Did he really know his master? Did he really know him? Did he know that his master had joy at all, or did the servant percieve his Master as a cruel, ruthless, perfectionist ruler? Did he know him? Did He know about this joy that was waiting for him? Did he know there was joy at all?

Everytime I read this parable, I identify with that 3rd servant. First in feeling God is mean, 2nd in feeling God is to be feared (like, hide under the bed feared), and finally in realizing that I do not know my God to be a God of love, of joy...that He is waiting to make my joy full, abundantly full. I'm so afraid He's going to get mad at me, criticize how I use the talents/gifts He's given me. Not thinking that he wants to rejoice in my rejoicing as I use them.

Lord, too often I've come to you like a child to the principle's office. Too often have I hidden away, afraid to pick up the glory you await to bestow, going through all the reasons how it might be misused or abused. Too often I have seen you as a hard man, an impatient man, who is looking at his watch frustrated that I've wasted more time in doing what I ought not to do with what you provided. And yet I haven't even moved yet.

Oh, Lord, that I would know you more.


Sonnet XXX - Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I see thine image through my tears to-night,
And yet to-day I saw thee smiling. How
Refer the cause?—Beloved, is it thou
Or I, who makes me sad? The acolyte
Amid the chanted joy and thankful rite
May so fall flat, with pale insensate brow,
On the altar-stair. I hear thy voice and vow,
Perplexed, uncertain, since thou art out of sight,
As he, in his swooning ears, the choir's Amen.
Beloved, dost thou love? or did I see all
The glory as I dreamed, and fainted when
Too vehement light dilated my ideal,
For my soul's eyes? Will that light come again,
As now these tears come—falling hot and real?

to live deliberately among the chaos

I've been reminded a lot of mortality lately. A couple people, friends of friends of friends, have passed away tragically. Young, active, energetic people like myself. Passionate for life and helpin others. Forgive me if I sound rude, but much like I pictured as a child that princesses must be thin and singers, I had a weird fantasy that passionate driven people do not die tragically. It didn't happen to people who were being proactive in the world, following God's call on their life, on fire for their purpose.

I knew I was wrong...and now I know even more.

It has caused me to become extremely discontent with my life or at least the idea that I am sitting on my butt updating a facebook page or writing a blog instead of outside these 4 walls living...LIVING. I want to make sure that if I'm the next to go, that I am living my life to it's fullest in the way that makes me most alive and gives God the most glory.

I want to go down singing. Not swinging. Singing.

Last Saturday's show was great. People came out, had a good time, sang along to A Man and His Plant, and being backed by In the Wake of Giants was freaking awesome. United Harvest Workers Union made me want to spin in circles. I really love this.

Today, I had a long debate with a couple very good friends about selling merchandise at the next show. After careful deliberation, it was decided that I would sell t-shirts, necklace pendants, and CDs, and possibly stickers. Perhaps this sounds pretentious as I'm not well known or touring right now. But even talking about it casually made my heart expand in excitement and love. And so I will do do it.

I'm tired of being scared or nervous about the next step. I'm ready to go. I'm not afraid to die if it means I'm really living when it happens.

paused.

Picture this: You're looking on Facebook and you come across the page of a past fling, interest, boyfriend (girlfriend for you male readers out there). You haven't thought about this person for a while, and you frankly have no residual feelings. And then you learn: he's married. And a feeling comes over you. it isn't anger. isn't bitterness. isn't let down. isn't even joyful. isn't happy. it just...is. it's as if time and breath have stopped (not dramatically, just stopped) and you think, "huh. wow. that just happened." and then, within 3-5 seconds, everything picks up and you continue with your day.

A friend and I were trying to think of a word for this a month or so ago. And then, in a conversation today, the word organically appeared.

"How have you been, Elise?"
"Paused."

paused. it's an almost nameless, emotionless sensation with a lot of weight. and it's how I feel now.

2 weeks ago, I felt chapter 22 in "The Biography of Elise Hindmarsh" close. I am now staring at the first page of Chapter 23. And I feel nothing. No excited expectation. No dread of disappointment. Honestly, I feel very little emotion at all except the anxiety that I feel very little emotion. I'm not one to usually have small emotions.

i feel paused. air has stopped. time has stopped. relationships, growth, learning, contribution has stopped. the earth's rotation must have stopped. everything feels suspended. like the scene in The Truman Show where all the actors are in place but no one is moving, awaiting the director's cue.

i'm waiting for him to say action, too.

I'm a Mac...and I've got a Dirty Secret

Security Blanket - New Song

I am small
I am weak
I am angry
I am not meek

and I fall
and I fall
and I fall
and I fall

and I will lie down and dwell in peace
for you alone, oh lord, make me dwell in safety

I grow tired
I grow old
I am too open
I am too cold

and I fall
and I fall
and I fall
and I fall

and I will lie down and dwell in peace
for you alone make my dwell in safety

I am lonely
I’m out of breath
I am amazed
you’re with me yet

when I fall
when I fall
when I fall
when I fall

I will lie down and dwell in peace
for you alone make my dwell in safety

Blog rules: Stick with your topic

Apparently accordin to blog rules, you should try to write blogs that stick with your blog's title theme. Mine is Beyond Purgatory, the sense that no one should live a mundane, complacent life.

I'm not sure my posts have flowed under that theme.

However, as I reflect back on the last couple days, I've had several things happen that are very extraordinary, and yet there were no flashing cameras, fireworks invovled. But oh, they made my heart so happy.

1. forgiveness. This is always a good thing. I feel like ordinary life would mean either remain bitter or forget anything ever happened. It's an extraordinary thing to find the balance between hurt and healing.

2. dialogue. I've had several conversations over the last couple days in which i have whole heartedly disagreed with a person and yet anger, fists, and pride did not rear its ugly head (at least that I was aware of.) I think it's an extraordinary thing to be able to talk, stand firm, be open to hear and love the person, and walk away feeling slightly more humbled and yet confident. Ordinarily, one might scream and yell and leave in a huff.

High volume does not always equal fantastic (a reference to fireworks or 100 piece marching bands).

3. meaningful accomplishment. it's one thing to sing a song. it's another thing to have someone say that it encourages them. it's one thing to work with children with autism. it's another thing to have a parent thank you with a loss for words. it's one thing to touch base with a friend. it's another thing to realize why that person means so much and to see God keeping the connection flowing despite months of non-contact.

perhaps one day i'll be able to write on this blog how I didn't settle for leading worship but performed in front of about the 1,000 people. or the platinum record i recieved instead of giving away cds. or meeting the president instead of a stranger who needed a smile. or walking on water instead of drinking it. (Or would I want things to change that way?) regardless, my life is far from ordinary and life jump starts me from complacency, if I allow myself to look with the eyes of Christ, and dedicate even a water glass to His glory. Christ made all things extraordinary in his power (minus going to the bathroom perhaps).

live beyond purgatory. don't get stuck or resign to apathy. but if you can't change your circumstance, ask Christ to change your heart and mind and soul in that circumstance, and let the sactification and extraordinary-fication begin.

On My Bones

My suggestion at reading this blog is to play video and read the blog while listening to the song. Sets the tone.

Ezekiel 37: Valley of Dry Bones
God asked the prophet, "Can these bones live?"
The prophet, in a sense, asked God, "Lord, you know."

It's a bit of an ambiguous answer, one that demonstrates either a cunning way to cop-out, like the typical "what do YOU think?" or a humble recognition that God is the only one who knows the answer to seemingly hopeless impossibilities. I wonder what would have occurred if Ezekiel had said, "Nope, it's impossible for those dried up, scattered bones to live." Would the Lord have proven him wrong, or in dismay, allowed Ezekiel's unbelief to be the self-fulfilled prophecy turn reality?

"I will cause breath to enter you, that you may come to life."

Even with sinew (the equipment), bones (the structure) and skin (the appearance, facade), breath was needed to bring this army to life. What does it mean to have the breath of God? To be one with Him? I remember reading stories as a child with my head on my dad's chest, and I'd change my breathing pattern to match his rhythm. It was such an intimate exchange, co-existing in inhaling the same breath, and exhaling the same waste. Is that what it means? How does one lay on the chest of the Heavenly Father?

"And the bones came together, bone to its bone."

In its right place. Originally scattered. What if the Lord had told Ezekiel, put the bones together and then I'll act. I probably would have failed miserably. Most bones look the same to me. And yet the Lord spoke through Ezekiel, and all the bones joined in their right place. And yet, although I know I am helpless to form creation, I think I'm brilliant to put my life back together. I run away, to put my heart, my mind, my soul back together and come back looking like a Picasso painting: all the right pieces, perhaps beautiful, but pretty awkward looking. Love, worship, dedicate your heart, mind, and soul to the Lord. Maybe that doesn't mean "Fix it, and then bring it to him." A broken and a contrite heart. I'm glad I don't have to be a non-blemished 1 year old lamb to be an acceptable offering to the Lord.

All this reflection started after reading Oswald Chamber's daily devotion on this passage. He wrote (among other things), "The degree of hopelessness I have for others come from never realizing that God has done anything for me. Is my own personal experience such a wonderful realization of God's power and might that I can never have a sense of hopelessness for anyone else I see?"

He continues, "When God wants to show you what human nature is like separated from Himself, He shows it to you in yourself."

I saw wrath last night. Pure wrath. It boiled up inside of me, water streaming down my face, fingers bent into claws, heart pounding, brain bursting at the seams. For an entire day, it ate me alive. I woke up in the morning completely tense head to toe. My voice was lowered 1 octave. I had seen dry bones and I was glad.

"Son of Man, can these bones live?"
- No, Lord, because they don't deserve it. They only could, and should, remain dead.

My anger was my revelation of the human nature separated from Christ. Apart from the Lord, we are not only God's enemies, but man's. Apart from Christ's forgiveness, we crucify Him daily and demand Pilate to crucify each other. Die for your sins!

And isn't this shown in the semantic twist of the Golden rule?

I'll do to you what you've done to me. This is the law.
Do unto others as you'd have them to do you. This is love.

Without Christ, at eternity, I'd bear the wrath of God.
Without Christ, on earth, I'd further the wrath of men.

I read a sermon last night by Martin Luther King, Jr. (1957) entitled, "Loving Your Enemies." He ended his sermon with these words:

So this morning, as I look into your eyes, and into the eyes of all of my brothers in Alabama and all over America and over the world, I say to you, "I love you. I would rather die than hate you." And I'm foolish enough to believe that through the power of this love somewhere, men of the most recalcitrant bent will be transformed. And then we will be in God?s kingdom. We will be able to matriculate into the university of eternal life because we had the power to love our enemies, to bless those persons that cursed us, to even decide to be good to those persons who hated us, and we even prayed for those persons who despitefully used us.

I want to breathe in the breath of God so that I may live, not exhale the fires of hell to condemn others (and myself) to death.

Oh this love has been life to these bones.

If I could be...

This is a quote from The Picture of Dorian Gray" by Oscar Wilde.

"If this girl can give a soul to those who have lived without one, if she can create the sense of beauty in people whose lives have been sordid and ugly, if she can strip them of their selfishness and lend them tears for sorrows that are not their own, she is worthy of all your adoration, worthy of the adoration of the world."

I want to be this.

That is all. Goodnight.

an old song, resurrected - to lead a life

I wrote this song a year ago.
The picture's from New Zealand.
I didn't realize that I forgot them until I found them again.

To Lead A Life - by Elise Hindmarsh

I’m so sorry that I can’t be
content like others that you might see
that my first thought is about tomorrow
and not where I am, but where I might go

to lead a life without these things I might be happy

I’m afraid that I am like that
someone who hurt you and made you so sad
putting value in clothes and money
and vainly eating the milk and honey

to lead a life without these things I might be happy

maybe my mother and my father
will look at me like my older brother
who ran away and forgot to call her
but I’ve my own life, to fly and falter

to lead a life without these things I might be happy

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

I was asked this question at a bar the other night. After my response, he said, "I hate to burst your bubble, but you have to pay the bills."

I wonder when we as creative, amazing, intelligent, impecably perservering human beings decided that in order to pay bills you must give up your dream...that for some reason to be responsible means to be boring.

I have talked to several people who love one thing and then settle for another. Who deeply desire to change the world and then sit behind a cubicle. Do I think that cubicles are a minor form of hell waiting to trap people? No. But unlike their structure, one size does not fit all. Some people are made for living out Office Space. I don't doubt that for a minute. But some people aren't.

I'm not.

I was listening to my favorite Dashboard Confessional song, "This Ruined Puzzle." It reminds me of my relationship with God, like just about every other song I hear on the radio. There's a line in this one that almost knocked my car into a telephone pole:

This basement's a coffin, I'm buried alive
I'll die in here just to be safe.
I'll die in here just to be safe.

How many of us are dead men walking because we want to be safe? I'm not talking about death = having a good job and making money is the devil. I'm talking about death of passion. Death of dreams. Death of who we are at our core, because it's just too hard to live as the image bearers of God we were meant to be.

So we settle. Maybe as a doctor, perpetual student, or fast food salesmen. Settling is different for everyone. But the principle is the same.

I want a big house in the middle of a Jewish neighborhood within walking distance from a busy city street. I want a husband. I want lots of kids. I want to sing when I'm manic and play piano when I'm depressed. I want to cook food, eat food, play football, scream at hockey refs, read Bible stories to my kids, kick and scream when I'm praying, tell people there's more hope than they realize. I don't want to feel old when I'm 40. I want to welcome strangers. Welcome friends. I want people to know they can come to my house if they need a place to crash. I want to change every part of the world that I touch, even if it's just 1 degree closer to holy.

And I want to pay the bills.

I just happen to think I can have fun and do what I love while doing it.

Am I crazy?

To those who had plans for me

i've become inconsistent
i've stopped keeping my word
this new course of action has taken yet another turn
i'm afraid i'll let you down
i'm afraid i'll be wrong
i'm afraid
i'm afraid
i'm afraid
i'm afraid
but i need to move on
i'll probably see you around
i hope it isn't weird
i'd say i'm most afraid to lose you
but it's your opinion that i fear
and i hope you still love me
and say nice things about me
as i learn to love me too
i wonder what it's like to disagree with you
and for my answer to be true

long on butterflies, short on cocoons

I saw the butterfly flutter by
and marveled at its tapestry
of colors I would have never paired
yet danced together beautifully

so often I see butterflies
and forget the once upon a times…

a season ago I would have seen
the caterpillar inching by
or perhaps to say more accurately
I would have not seen nor asked why

such small insignificant larvae
rarely catch a second eye

the tiny creature, unmajestic
some girls squirm and turn to run
but he keeps inching, crawling, searching
for the tree branch to be hung

the loveliest metamorphoses
begin with death upon a tree

the caterpillar to the butterfly
logic (not science) says it must not be
magic (not faith) says it’s a mystery
hope (not resignation) says this is me

thus I glorify the butterfly
and cherish the one it’s locked inside

Listening can be extremely rewarding

One of my 100 New Years Resolutions is to listen better, to listen WITHOUT figuring out how I will reply midway through the person's sentence. I have learned a lot about people today. Here are some of the conversations.

#1. I asked a elementary school kid to answer this question on a test:
Me: "Finish this sentence: I can always count on God to..."
Kid: "...forgive my sins."

Wow. I wish I always counted on that.

#2. Talking with high school students about whether technology (Facebook, Myspace, etc) has increased out ability to connect with others or decreased. The overwhelming response was decrease. Then one girl wondered if we'd ever get to the point where we didn't see anyone ever, with all things accessible by web. And one girl said, "If that happens, it will probably happen we we don't even realize. We'll wake up and realize, wow, I haven't seen you in a while and you live 4 houses down."

Made me wonder, how much of my life will change without me even noticing?

#3. Talked with some guys who spend the day walking all over town because "when you don't have a stable food source, you have to keep walking around to survive." I had never thought of that. I thought driving down the hill to Giant Eagle was a pain.

God gave you twice as many ears as you have a mouth, which means you listen twice as much as you speak. From an audiology standpoint, one would argue its so you can localize sound. But, it's humbling what I learned in a day when I stopped worrying about speaking and actually desired to listen.

Soulgasms

Okay. I'm going to ask we all be adults as we read this blog. If you're not sure you can do it, just go to the part in quotations.

From time to time, I experience something I call a "soulgasm". This usually occurs after reading a particular passage in Scripture or a book or a song, in which my soul completely releases and I feel a deep surrender to the Lord followed by intense contentment and peace.

Tonight, I had a soulgasm. It came from reading "Confessions" from St. Augustine. The specific quote was this:

"In all the things that I go over when I go to you for counsel I find no safe place for my soul except in you. There I can gather my scattered pieces, nor is any part of me lost from you."

So after reading this, all I wanted to do was lay in bed and meditate on the Lord: how he is merciful, patient, and keeps all our pieces when we return to him to be put back together. And I finally found contentment in solitude.

I found the chapter I was originially looking for after my soulgasm, which is fitting as it is about stillness. I'll share it with you, and maybe you can have a soulgasm of your own.

"Let's suppose the tumult of one's flesh were to fall silent.
that the vain illusions of earth, waters and air were to fall silent,
that the sky were to fall silent.
Let us suppose that one's very soul were to fall silent,
and by not thinking about itself,
were to transcend itself;

suppose all dreams and revelatory images,
all tongues and symbols,
all that comes to be by passing away were to fall silent
- for all these things say to whoever listens,

"We did not make ourselves (Psalm 99.3)
'our Maker is he who abides for ever' (Ps. 32.11)

Let us suppose that they were to fall silent
having aroused us with these words to listen to their Maker;

suppose also that he, the Maker, were to speak
- he alone, not through things he has made but through himself,
so that we could hear his word;
not through fleshly tongue nor through angels' voice
not through the sound of the thunder (Ps. 76.18)
nor through the riddle of a parable
but suppose we could hear him whom we love for all these things,
but without all these things,
just as even now we stretched out and with souring contemplation
attained the eternal Wisdom that abides above all things.

Let us suppose also that this state were to be prolonged
and that other, far inferior visions were removed
and this one vision were to enrapture and swallow up
and hide the beholder in itself
so that life would eternally be as this moment of understanding for which we sighed
would such a state not be what is meant by the words,
Enter into your Master's joy (Math. 25.21)?

...the world and all its pleasures became to us at our words a thing disprized

Not Alone - New Song

Not Alone - music/lyrics by Elise Hindmarsh

I get into arguments with the voices in my head
fist fights with ghosts in the mirror, on the bed
Jesus seems outnumbered when I call to Him
with legions of demons hanging on my limbs

and I know I’m not alone
no I know I’m not alone
with all the madmen in the world
I’m not alone

the radio keeps condemning me
for the love I gave away willingly
and that love is for fools or day dream believers
but whether its lost or its found, no one understands love any clearer

so I know I’m not alone
no I know I’m not alone
with all the lovers in the world
I’m not alone

I walk into church and hear the same 4 songs
I usually sing harmony but I don’t sing along
the reverend tells us that God is love
and each person made Jesus break his body, spill his blood

So I know I’m not alone
no I know I’m not alone
with all the sinners in the world
I’m not alone so

I know I’m not alone
yes I know I’m not alone
with all you people in the world

Twas the day before Christmas...

Twas the day before Christmas and all through my home,
I prayed that this Christmas no one feels alone.

That Jesus would be proclaimed with His love,
without conditions or favortism or "you're not good enough."

That gifts would be given straight from the heart,
no matter if bought from Goodwill or Walmart.

That Christians would be humbled by the sight of the manger,
remembering that Jesus did the same despite danger

And that I could forgive with true peace in my heart,
and today is as good as any day to start.

In response...

I feel I need to respond to my own post. I realize that we cannot make anyone change, let alone a period of time almost 60 years ago. I must start with myself. Take the plank out of my own eye. Thank you "Sing Off" for singing "Man in the Mirror."

Be the change you want to see.

I picked up a book last night...

I forget how much I love to read. I'm one of those people who around the holiday's realizes the wealth of knowledge at my disposal and asks for 5-1o books. I can tell you that all of those books are currently sitting on my shelf, and I have read a total of 1.

I decided to pick up #2 last night. It's called "The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid." I love kids, and I've been in a lame mood lately, so I thought this would be a perfect way to suspend my reality a bit and focus on the joy of childhood.

I didn't finish the 1st chapter, in disgust.

Let me share with you the first couple pages I read, and maybe you'll understand why I felt too sick to move forward. I'll put my thoughts in [ ].

"I can't imagine there has ever been a more gratifying time or place to be alive than America in the 1950s. No country had ever known such prosperity. [really?] When the war ended the United States had $26 billion worth of factories that hadn't existed before the war, $140 billion in savings and war bonds just waiting to be spent, no bomb damage [feel kinda bad for the devestated families of Europe and Japan], and practically no competition. All that American companies had to do was stop making tanks and battleships and start making Buicks and Frigidaires - and boy did they. [woo hoo, just what we need!]

"...almost 90% of American families had refigerators, and nearly 3/4 had washing machines, telephones, vacuum cleaners, and gas or elective stoves - things that most of the rest of the world coul still only fantasize about. [and we're proud of that?] Americans owned 80% of teh world's electrical goods, controlled 2/3 of the world's productive capacity, produced more than 40 percent of its electricity, 60 percent of its oil, and 66 percent of its steel. The 5 percent of people on Earth who were Americans had more wealth than the other 95 percent combined. [I'm starting to feel sick...]

"...We became the richest country in the world without needing the rest of the world." [..while everyone else might need our help]

"...In 1951, the average American ate 50% more than the average European." [that explains our obesity rate]

"...They'd all have a good laugh...and then sit around drinking iced tea and talking appliances for an hour or so. [No other pressing issues around the world or anything?] No human being had ever been quite this happy before."

That last line did me in. Even writing it makes me feel sick. I understand historically that we had just helped end a war and people were happy. I understand that historically we had just come out of the Great Depression. I understand that the author is just trying to convey how great a time it was to be born in the year 1951. But it was hard for me not to read this and not think "America the Beautiful" but "America the Glutton."

I don't bash my country much, if at all. We have great freedom, great resources, great healthcare (for those who can afford it), great education, and overall great people. But these words on pg. 5-6 made me think, "Wow, so often we live in this bubble, and completely forget the rest of the world is NOT like this."

Keep in mind right now I am somewhat sensitive having followed a guy my age doing a hunger strike for 9 days to raise money for deworming meds for starving children. I told another friend I feel like I experience Norman Rockwell's Christmas inside, and then I step outside and am reminded how not everywhere has a Christmas tree, lights, feasts of appetizers, and jingle bells.

Sorry if I'm sounding pessimistic. I swear I'm not bitter. I think I'm just becoming more aware.

I'll leave you today with the lyrics of a Christmas song I heard on the radio as yet another reminder from the Lord about the state of things (yes, the Lord still speaks to me via radio). God bless. Be aware. Do good.


But say a prayer
Pray for the other ones
At Christmas time it's hard
But when you're having fun
There's a world outside your window
And it's a world of dread and fear
Where the only water flowing
Is the bitter sting of tears
And the Christmas bells that ring
There are the clanging chimes of doom
Well tonight thank God it's them instead of you

And there won't be snow in Africa
This Christmas time
The greatest gift they'll get this year is life
Where nothing ever grows
No rain nor rivers flow
Do they know it's Christmas time at all?

Feed the world...

Reconciliation this Christmas

And so this is Christmas, and what have you done?

As a worship leader, I have been challenged to actually read the words of th carols I incorporate into the worship list. I was listening today intently to the lyrics for "Hark the Harold Angels Sing" and heard the line, "God and sinners reconciled."

Instead of getting all philisophical, I'm going to get to the point. If I am celebrating the season in which God reconciled me to him through Jesus, I feel as though it is also necessary that I seek to reconcile myself to others.

Sometimes this is not a huge ordeal. It may have been that you've really lacked on your share of the apartment responsiblities (which I have done). It may have been that you allowed your tongue to get out of hand and spoke ill of someone that you actually care about deeply even if you disagree with them on various levels (which I have done). Maybe you forgot to put the toilet seat down (which I have not done, thank you.)

But sometimes it is a huge deal. Maybe you stopped talking to someone out of bitterness (which I have done). Maybe you stood by as someone got totally verbally annihilated and just by listening partook in their abuse (which I have done). Maybe you've done something else that doesn't need broadcasted on a blog post (which I have done).

My prayer for myself and for us during this season is that we would seek to be reconciled to eachother. Even if that means going to your closest friends and asking, "I love you, I care about you, I'd do anything for you, but what have I not done? Have I offended you in any way? What can I do to make our relationship the way it should be? How can I honor you better?" Even if you're not sure you've done anything, I assure you that even the gesture can be a breath of fresh air.

There are some reconciliations that require time, and reconciliation/forgiveness cannot be forced. But if the Holy Spirit puts someone on our hearts, and gives us peace that seeking that reconciliation is possible, I hope we follow through.

Peace on earth, good will towards men. May the Spirit prepare our way as we prepare his.

Marriage Counseling...new song

if you're tired, so am i
i'm not sure sure if i lied
when i said i'd walk with you forever

some say the road should be easy
some say expect the pain
i'm not sure who to believe when i can't predict the weather

for better or for worse
in sickness and in health
for poorer or for richer
well i never wanted wealth
but worse seems so scary
when best is all i've known
but if it's time to grow, i want to grow

if waiting is an action word
maybe silence is the best conversation
when no words seem to help

can two different people
learn to become one
and die to but no lose themselves

for better or for worse
in sickness and in health f
or poorer or for richer
well i never wanted wealth
but worse seems so scary
when best is all i've known
but if it's time to grow, i want to grow

patience is a virtue
i always said i never had
the fact is i'm learning, and i think i've made headway

and he found me as i was
and he loves me as i am
and he wants me to never be the same

for better or for worse
in sickness and in health
for poorer or for richer
well i swear i never wanted wealth
but worse seems so scary
when best is all i've known
but if it's time to grow, i want to grow