What I'm reading changes me sometimes

"...that a budget is a moral document, and when you look at a church budget, you know what that church is about and what it values. In most cases, you will find that church budgets show that churches are self-centered. The reality is, many churches spend little on anybody or anything outside the church. If you look over almost any church budget, you will probably find that the church is paying its bills and taking care of its own needs. It has been said that the church should be the only club in the world that should exist for the benefit of its nonmembers. Few church budgets give evidence of that...Across the board, more than 90 percent of the church offerings we give on Sunday mornings stay inside the building (some denominations have as little as 2 percent going toward external, missional needs.) This is the antithesis of what the early church was doing. In the book of Acts, it says that the offerings were put at the feet of the apostles and were distributed to folks as there was need (4:35.)"  --Shane Claiborne//Tony Campolo, Red Letter Revolution

"We can sum up very quickly what people need to teach their own children. First of all, they have to like them, enjoy their company, their physical presence, their energy, foolishness, and passion. They have to enjoy all their talk and questions, and enjoy equally trying to answer those questions. They have to think of their children as friends, indeed very close friends, have to feel happier when they are near and miss them when they are away. They have to trust them as people, respect their fragile dignity, treat them with courtesy, take them seriously. They have to feel in their own hearts some of their children's wonder, curiosity, and excitement about the world. And they have to have enough confidence in themselves, skepticism about experts, and willingness to be different from most people, to take on the responsibility for their children's learning. But that is about all that parents need. Perhaps only a minority of parents have these qualities. Certainly some have more than others. Many will gain more as they know their children better; most of the people who have been teaching their children at home say that it has made them like them more, not less. In any case, these are not qualities that can be taught or learned in a school, or measured with a test, or certified with a piece of paper." --John Holt, Teach Your Own: the John Holt book of home schooling

"We Cannot Remove Pain-the Felt Reality of Evil-from This World
    I want to state an important truth from within the Christian worldview at this point. By removing pain from the human experience, Sam Harris is, in effect, trying to remove the felt reality of evil. There is one fundamental difference between God allowing a death to take place and me taking another life: God has the power to restore life, I don't. The story of evil is one part of a greater narrative. To ignore the greater narrative is to continue to raise particulars without accepting the general. In fact, there is no option left but to say there is no such thing as evil and there should be no such thing as pain....If it is possible in our finite world with our limited knowledge to be able to appreciate just one benefit of pain, is it not possible that God has designed this awareness within us to remind us of what is good for us and what is destructive? As horrendous as the illustrations may sometimes be, can we not see the moral framework that detects atrocities and resists tragedies? Could there be a greater, deeper answer than simply saying there is no God?....Wickedness is always excused as anything but the moral degeneracy that has resulted from each one of us becoming the god of God."  Ravi Zacharias, The End of Reason: A response to the new atheists 

Highest hill calling

now what do you look like, perfect faith?
now what do you sound like?
Do You know what we're walking into?
Could you please let me know, give me a hint
that every little thing is gonna be okay.

and I was embraced and made a part of
A creator of
A partaker of
A new thing that hadn't existed before the effect of poor planning
That thing that collectively has twelve stepping feet
Sixty fingers to discover
And it's mine
And I'm accepted in this one thing that before me ne'er existed
And the tall one
The musical one
The quiet one
The he was mister right one
And magic was wrought when to him I clung
And I made him mature
And he made me calm
And all that is wrapped up in these things before unthinkable
Unimaginable
Small minds wonderful
And now searching for belonging stops because it's filled
That dull ache to be parented and rest in being taken care of
    Is eclipsed by deep belly laughs and walking around in bare feet
Passing out hydrocortisone cream
Taking orders for ice cream
How a one could abandon their tinies?
Curse their babies?
Blame their babies?
Created small hearts place me at home
Make me at home
Make my home a home
Tiny big voices make the unparented parent satisfied in home

And faith wraps it shut

almost time

for their unapologetic shouts
    accompanied by unapologetic bouts
of raucous loosly goosely questions
for tired hangy wangy ears
lord too old to feel this bold
quiet bubbly troubly musty thoughts

think fast tiny mommy for the three plus the one
and the door stuck to shun
shun your fun
shun your fun
shun your fun

quiet in the friday

I'm afraid. I'm afraid of a lot of things. I'm afraid of freedom.
car accidents
rapists
dogs
sharks
men
women
talking
being open
being alone
I don't like typing on this computer
this laptop
this is not mine
it is his
all that I have is borrowed from him
all that I want to have I have to have the desire to get up and earn
but I never will
I already have


Her shadow hasn't hung over me in a long time now.
Since the sick stalking has ceased
and I hated myself and it never made me feel better
and now she has no power over me
maybe
maybe there is power in what I can accomplish
maybe there is validity in me
in the me
in the dreams of me
in the abilities
those gifts closeted away
hiding from the others from the them from the outsiders
dumbing down to fulfill the role
I'm over it
I'm over that and now ready, partly at least, to be a little more daring
to go get myself ice cream
maybe I'll run
maybe I'm afraid that I'll get out too far and not want to come back
maybe I won't come back and that will be murderous
and it would be tragic
but God
remember the deal
the pact
the covenant
the transformation in the midst of the altercation
that random encounter that changed the course of fate and made it all different
better for a time
when there was a one to kiss it all away
when there was a one who made the me want
who made the me laugh
and that died
and now there is the decade old us and the me and the mine and the longing and the irritation and the selfishness
and then there are the memories and the history and the grandeur of the big
 of the history that tore me out of the pain and the crazy and the making me want
and what i want is to want the healthy the happy
the best and the reasonable and the healthy
but there is the lost and there is the lonely and there isn't release and there isn't fulfillment
just waiting for that some day when it will all get better than the now when it all gets better
like magic
like a spell
like a miracle
and the cycle goes on it continues and loses me in it and I'm at a loss
lost in the now when I'm free to think and I think too much and I think of the losses
 and I think of the past and the dad I abandoned who abandoned me first
and I wonder if I'll ever be able to explain to any of them what it all truly meant
did it mean anything?
was the cry heard if not seen?
was there a sign asking for help?
will there be grace in the acceptance of all the eccentricities that make me up
when
my mind
goes out
my
mouth
and its all heard
like I want it to be
like it was meant
to be
like I never want you to hear it

because the rivalry I've created riles up in me and I hate you and I want to do it all better and bigger and more successfully than you could ever
and I don't like you
and I like to think of your demise

but I wander
and I'm sick
and I wonder if I'm the only one who thinks like I think
but then I remember that there are the others and the ones who can't make eye contact in the crowd who
can't make the small talk like the man
who hate the loud and read the books and are
just
like
me
and that makes me feel a little more free and that someday I'll join that exclusive club that I never thought I could join because there never was a place for aspiration in the sacrifice of survival
in the myriad of prison homes that we've run through
just a place to be free
I'd like a place to be free
where the walls don't feel like they hold me in
but that they contain me wrapping me in the safety of their stability
ability
likeability
and to be
and I suppose some day I'll make peace with the beast and reconcile the docile submissive tiny one and the loud and angry creative one
the dichotomy I created for myself to have an escape from the chaos
that chaos that was real
the tragedy we narrowly avoided and all the loss
and all the tears
 and all the yelling
and the being alone and the lonely cries and then
all the boys filling the void and the diversion of getting the numbers and making them smile and being free to get the attention of others who might like to have yours
and they had mine
all
and then the ring
and then the finality
and the security and the
monogamy
and the babies
lots of the babies that led to the illness
the darkness of an illness that put into another cell
another confinement
that encompassing bigness that trapped you, tiny

maybe you'll sing
maybe it would be amazing to be free

with the eYe twitch thinker

What I've taught her:
To absorb the selfish behavior of others
To need a safe place in the presence of stress
To force herself to believe it's fun even when her gut screams otherwise

But how do I explain that to the brat? Bratty child stresses mine so that she refuses to go without me. Shame on me for not teaching her to stand up to her boundaries. Shame on me for not teaching her that it isn't her responsibility to make others' bad behavior not affect her. When she is affected she needs to be able to defend herself. To explain her boundaries and the offense pushing her away.
But I don't do it. I never explain the offense. I never react and put up the boundary when it's been breached. I don't do that. I run away. I stew on it. I meditate on it and allow it to grow and fester and determine to not allow myself to do, say, or be that person. I don't want to cause another to feel the way that crap made me feel.
But I've taught that it's ok. I didn't even realize it. I wasn't aware. She does as she sees. How can I teach her to be brave when I model weakness? I model being a doormat? That's not healthy and I don't know what is.

And you with the eye twitch!
Is it so bad that you need to eat yourself up? So bad that you can stop yourself breathing? No need. No need for clarity. No need for fulfillment. What's it gonna benefit having the approval of the who? Not gonna benefit anyone that you'd value their approval. I don't care.

Not caring, but the need to remind myself to not care. To not care and enjoy the difficulty of the foreign. Ah, the trials of the weak. Enjoy the hardships of the crazy. Oh, surely, you crazy.
Guess I don't do well trying to make myself talk middle class. Wanna say screw you to the middle class.
But oh, how I'd love to know what a life lived in comfort would be like. What would it be like if there were enough to form an entertainment portion of the budget? But I hate you. I see you look down on me as I struggle through your cultures' choice of words. As I question to clarify what I can never comprehend. On the things I wasn't privileged to be exposed to in my youth. Did even tiny one learn to be street smart in her naivete? That's why you walk proud little one. That's why you know alpha posture. That's why you rebel against that Anglo middle class. You watched it on TV. The way you should be living. You watched it and read about it, but never lived it. Never experienced it. Just the wanting. Just the awareness of what you lack and what they have and the burning irritation at thinking they think themselves the better. The envy. Oh the envy of those with central air. With new cars. With new clothes. With new houses. That don't worry if there's enough for gas. Enough for the extras. The neverending fundraisers. Hate the fundraisers. Hate saying no. Hate the material life of the season. Tis the season to be aware of what you don't have. Of what you can't have. Of what you can't give. Cars that don't break down and die. Who care for their pets better than I was cared for throughout my childhood. The haves and the have nots. And I don't know how to be either.

No nap sunday

Wish I could fall asleep like him.

Mad deep naps at the drop of a hat. 

Not this zombie state answering the same questions over and over out of the same small three mouths. 

Oh, wait. I answered that question already?

Repeat. 

10/18

For the quiet
Where the loud thoughts grow louder.
where the play backs play uninterrupted
where thinking through thinks and thinks
where planning wishes on dishes and laundry and toilets and organizing of grandeur.

For the quiet
for the sleeping heart
for the safe for the tiny
for the loved

for the quiet
hushed in the humming of servants of machinery
humming away sidewalk chalk soiled jeans birthday cake splattered dishes
in the quiet where straight lines of antish invaders scoop up yet to be captured remnants of laughter

For the quiet
never quiet rambling mumbling humming thinks thinkeries



backwards when the blinds opening draws darkness in when light there should be



what part of you can we say is out of style? which born this way trait should be altered for fashion's sake? why should the tiny conform for the majority? why should tiny be trained not to love all that was made unique about her? Let's say it's your eye color, eye shape, the sound of your voice. Let's say its the shape of your toes, the thickness of your fingernails, the loves of your heart, the interests of your mind.
Conform you to the rest. Let's just stop to think. Think and consider that spilling out into more than the few areas highlighted in the mass media are prejudices of people. Who has the authority to judge another's trait as a less than? Authority only granted by the one affected. Just a second to think. Just a second to pause. No don't say it, it's not nice. You can't un say it once it's out. You just can't.





Four little humans run around in this world.
Little smiling faces functioning brilliantly in this world
    I made that