A song with a swear word. (Sorry, Mom)

I understand there is a way to read the writing on the wall.

And I know that there is height to the clouds above.

I can hear the ocean spray across the sandy shore.

I can lean into the wind on Mt. Top

And I want to lean into you.

I want to touch the scars in your hands

I want to look down from the heaven's

To feel the touch of your moist cold breath

and join in the fight of your spirit

I want to lean into you.

You're so wild you're so wild and I don't know what to do

You're so wild you're so wild and I want to be with you

Would you be tamed for me, Lord?

Would you walk into the flame, Lord?

Would you put the reigns on?

Would you become lame, Lord?

Would you take a cut, Lord?

Would you keep the buck, Lord?

Would you get down on your luck, Lord?

O, Geez, what the fuck, Lord?

You're so wild, you're so wild, I don't know what to do, Lord

You're so wild, you're so wild, and I want to be with you.

Not to be confused for my relationship with an ex-boyfriend.

It is -5 degrees out. That means it's cold folks. My car was even complaining as it couldn't keep up with it's heating priorities. (My car HATES it when I'm not warm enough... She's so good to me) I asked her what was wrong and she asked me if I would ever consider plugging in a space heater if I couldn't be content with what she was offering me. I gave it some consideration, and this is what I said- " Little car, my little car, I am very happy with you. You give me light for the road ahead of me and travelling mercies to every destination. I put gas into you (unless I'm a dummy) and oily liquids, and sometimes I take you to my friends', down at the shop, to show us what things can be changed for the better. I'm sorry that I don't wash you as much as I should (I'll make the effort to change) but generally, as I pour into you, you pour out for me. I love it when you play my favorite music and hug my body with your padded seats. (Heck! you are asking about my needs, and you are just my car!) You make me so happy. Space heaters are for wussies, by the way. Now show me some o' that nasty speed you put down!" Ah, yes, I think my car takes better care of me than people... sometimes.

Cold Hands, Warm Heart.

I've met someone who has colder hands than me. (Does that mean he has a warmer heart?) I think he might. I've been blessed with terrific friends. I mean really, how often do we have the privilege of having someone be brutally honest with us? Honesty with delicacy, tenderness, and love: Honesty without the necessity to defend or retaliate: Honesty that is not only there to give, honesty that exposes onesself and needs to recieve kindness in the same way... does that really happen? I'm finding out that it does. (And no, it's not just coming from 'him,' it comes from alot of my friends.) And I'm wondering why I'm just noticing this today? I mean I've noticed it before, but why write about it now? Is it the season? Is it my spiritual state? Is it that I am just bursting with thanks for once and letting it overflow? (I think sOO-oooo.) In a time where there is alot around me disturbing my life, uprooting me from comfort and leisure... I embrace this kindness.

2:54 and all's well!

Things happen when you are pushed beyond your limits.
For instance...when you get no sleep (or maybe just an hour of sleep in a 24 hr. period), and have to stay awake to watch the baby in the morning.
When you feel like you can't do 2 more minutes on the step machine at level ten but literally yell at yourself under your breath until you do.
When your good friend talks too loudly in the car and you have sensitive ears.
When your good friend tries to brush your hair and doesn't believe you when you say "ow, stop" three times cause you have a sensative scalp.
Or when people generously give and there's nothing to say but Thank You.

I like limits. I like being pushed beyond them. Now, I may not like them initially, like when I'm going beyond them. But there are benefits- opportunities for truth,tenacity, honesty, humility, anger... things I like to keep inside that need to come out. Can all limits be broken? I wonder.

The Christian's Secret of A Happy Life H.W.S.

I'm doing two things at the moment.
Listening to a superb album for reading mode called Compunds+Elements (an introduction to All Saints Records).
I'm also reading the book mentioned above.

Trust. God can't work in us if he doesn't have it from us.

That's pretty much it. Meditate on these things.

Have a great day.

One Vanilla Java Porter Later

I just got home from "time with Jean." I kinda feel all gushy on the inside. Like when I get to the end of an episode of Little House on the Prarie. She tried to call, but that didn't work. She tried to work my door bell- out of order. She made her way to my neighbor's and got let in and up to my apt. door, and says.... I have to do something in town, but let's get a few afterwards.
I jump at these moments. There is no plan too big to give up, no reason to not go. "Time with Jean" is precious. We head out to a bar that is offering jobs. I ask for the application, she hands me the pen. I show her the beer on tap across the way, she get's up for a closer look.
We are talking before we get out of the car, all the way into the place, on our way to the table, past Dave, who's kinda nice looking, talk. Italy, finances, Italy, (tell the waitress we don't know what we want like three times.) Eat casually, drink even more casually, Italy, making French Onion Soup, making Tiramisu, Friends, Road Trips, Italy, Loosing Weight, Sofa stories, just when we talked about the time (and I'm thinking she means to go), Jean puts her feet up on the empty chair from the table next to us... whew, Italy, exercise, Mom's birthday, Mammy paying for help around the house. And we pay and we talk all the way out (no City newspaper by the door). She was called Momma by the waitress and we laugh and talk about that. (About how whenever we go out, people think we're mother and daughter). And we share places in our lives where we ask God to be with us, and when we just need Him to be there, maybe with us not realizing or asking. We talk. And by the end, my heart is glowing, and I feel enriched, and privileged and glad Jean is my friend.

Clear

It's a really clear night out. You can see the stars. Yup, they're still there. Kinda constant. I mean, each one dies eventually but for me the common man, I find that the consistency of them being out there is good enough. I like that. Something is constant, something I can rely on. It's no Aurora borealis (but the picture is cool, isn't it?) One day all this beauty will be gone. But there will be a new earth. And man... I can't wait. (I mean, obviously I can...) but can you imagine... newer than this one, more crisp, more clear, brighter, lighter, cleaner. Let the light come.