How are you?

I’m fine.

What secrets lie behind your fine? What’s hiding underneath your mask? We put up such a façade, and for what? To show people that we’re better than we really are? I don’t struggle. I don’t have problems. I don’t have any pain. Everything’s okay. It’s alright. I’m fine. How are you? I really don’t care, it’s just common courtesy. Do you really want to know how I’m doing? Do you really want me to be transparent? Or would you just like to exchange niceties with my current mask?

I see so much when I gaze into those deep, brown eyes. I see dreams. I see joy. I see happiness. I see hope. I see love. I see a child. And I know she takes that as the compliment it is. My spirit is running wild, and I so much want it to be free. I hold her hand in mine and run. Not to any where in particular, just to run. To feel the air in our lungs, to leap over the puddles, to feel that exhilaration that is life. I feel so free and open. The world is before me, and I’m ready to challenge it. I may only be one small voice, but I will be heard. It’s sprinkling outside, and we’re getting wet. But it doesn’t matter. We stand on the landing, under the lights, holding each other close. Her sweet breath warms my face as our lips touch. This moment could last forever. This morning seems so faraway. Just how can people float through life in such a drunken stupor when it’s so much more? Did you accomplish anything in that distance? Or are you content in letting life be less? I look into those eyes, and I know that life is more. I know I didn’t evolve from the film growing on the top of the puddle I just stepped in. I know God is there, and I know he loves us. He loves us unbelievably. I can look into those eyes and know that he is. Can you feel it? Don’t you see? Open your eyes like a little child. See the love. Hear the joy. Feel the hope. Open your eyes and be free.

“And he said, ‘I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.'” Matthew 18:3-4 NIV

“But Jesus called the children to him and said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.'” Luke 18:16-17 NIV

“‘What do you want me to do for you?’ ‘Lord, I want to see.'” Luke 18:41 NIV

The rain falls in a steady beat, dripping rhythmically outside, only adding to my sleepiness. The downpour, thunder, and lightning that we’d all like to see never come, it’s just the quiet trickle of rain that hardly warrants a jacket. It’s not even enough to be annoying. Standing there for a moment, time seems to be suspended. If only it were. I could stay there forever, so dreamlike and serene. I step to move away, and like waking up from a dream, I almost trip down the stairs. What a dream, Lord. Just keep me in touch with reality. Is it wrong to slip into my own little heaven?

How long has it been since you’ve climbed a tree? You cling to the rough bark and feel your muscles flex as you pull yourself up, writhing and swinging like a disjointed monkey, dirtying your hands with nature. I climbed up there and realized fear. Have you ever been scared while climbing a tree? That’s what happens when you lose the child like freedom. How will I get down? What if I fall? I can just see my foot slipping and my body painfully slamming into the trunk as I frantically grasp for a branch. How odd that so long ago as a little child that never worried me. Falling never crossed my mind. The fear of pain or failure was never there. Yes, the pain did come, a scraped leg or a bruise on my elbow, but it never stopped me. Now I look at my hands and see scratches. I feel the tender pain on the palm of my hand from scraping against the tree-and I like it. Later I went back to that tree, and climbed it again. I scratched my hands some more, but this time I felt the child like freedom. I stopped at a branch and enjoyed the new found perspective. The wind blew, and I could feel the massive tree sway, I could see the ground far below me moving. But I kept climbing heavenward. I want to climb trees like a child. I want to climb dreams like a child. I don’t want to live life safely with two feet planted firmly on the ground. I want to feel the sting in my hand and know that the blood is flowing and I am soaring.

The rain drips down outside in pathetic little drops. Not enough to get you wet, but enough to be a nuisance. I know April showers bring May flowers, but these aren’t showers. This is a leaky faucet. There’s just something annoying about it. The gray skies wear on your soul after a while. Standing in front of the window, you push your hands against the cold surface of the glass. You can see the rain dotting the puddles outside.

Somewhere out there, someone is hurting. And there’s nothing I can do. My thoughts turn to them, and my mind echoes prayers for them, but what more can I do? What’s done is done.

Just when you think you don’t understand, it all becomes so clear. There is a time for everything, and the great artisan has worked it all out so perfectly. You may be in choppy waters now–your boat may even have capsized–but the peace will come.

You can walk on water if only you’d try.

I have a rather eccentric art professor that claims the word “can’t” has to be the most offensive word to the ears of our God. “Fuck” must pale in comparison.

“You can do that,” she said with a confidence and assurance that I needed so badly. I looked up and caught her eyes, and my spirits were lifted.

An exchange of glances. Funny how one look can mean so much. What does yours say to the world?

Two figures, walking through the midnight darkness, their shadows strolling side by side. There are no secrets here. Only a picture of God’s love for us. The two walk, for the simple pleasure of being together. Burdens and concerns are shared. Pain is eased. The difficulties of life lessen, and the spirit is soothed. The body is calmed by the cool night air and the starry host above. Life is felt at this moment. Do you feel it? Or are you too busy?

The sun rises early, and I rub my crusty eyes. Another week begins. While stumbling out of bed and into the shower, I’m hardly conscience enough to wonder how the week will go. As the water hits my bare skin and shocks the life back into my sleepy body, I still don’t wonder. My mind has yet to wake up. It’s still on the start up screen, taking it’s time like a Windows machine. Random and scattered thoughts come through, leftovers from the night before. It’s not until I sit down at breakfast that my brain really begins to work. I take in a mouthful of that precious orange juice, and I know that life is good.

So what will this coming week hold? Untold joys, amazing secrets, deafening sorrows? Who knows. But as I look out the window, and see the crisp blue sky, and the reaching branches of the naked trees–I know all is right. Someone is in control, and I can handle anything.

So as I plop down in that first class, and the tiredness begins to come back, and I’m quickly reminded of the pressing assignments, do I slump my head and let sorrow conquer my face? Or do I remember the warm sun and the gentle breeze? Do I remember to stop and breathe? Do I remember that life is precious and worth living? And worth living to the extreme. Enjoying. Few people really live. They let the sorrow conquer them, and they wonder why things are so hard.

No, I don’t do that. I sit there with my stupid smile. I shake the sleepiness off. I laugh at my professor’s jokes. I appreciate his humanity. I thank God for life. I make my day worth living. And so many hours later, when it’s time to let my body tumble into bed and sleep, I’ll have the joy of knowing that this day wasn’t wasted. This day was cherished. Like that tall glass of orange juice, every minute and every hour of this day was savored.

Don’t let anything take that away from you.

“A penny for your thoughts?” she asked.

“A penny for my thoughts? How about a penny for your thoughts?” I asked, “You’ve been the quiet one. I’m always answering the questions, I think it’s about time I asked them for a change.” You’d be pretty surprised at the answers.

Have you ever lived a fairy tale? Something seemed so good, you thought you’d wake up? I’ve found an incredible peace in God’s plan. Just when you don’t understand what he’s doing, and why he’s doing it, it all becomes so incredibly clear. Do you know why we never understand what’s going on? Because God is a writer. He’s a writer of plots. A writer of lives. Who writes plots like the stories of our lives? You don’t understand it because you expect a simple human plot. Predictable. Boring. Average. My God isn’t any of those, and when he writes the story of your life, it’s unique. It’s different. It’s exciting. It’s bold. The expectations are shattered, and you’re left wondering just what on earth is happening. But just relax. It’s not Dean Kootz or John Grisham with the pen in hand, it’s the creator of the universe. And he’s writing something you’ve never seen before. He’s writing your life. So hold on, and stop asking why.