song of the stars

Immortality

is a dinosaur

(or maybe a dragon)

a beautiful nightmare; a terrifying daydream

unending possibilities

unending heartache.

But you still don't know--would it be worth it?

You feel it stirring in your soul long before you give it a name. The eerie feeling you've been here and done this before, that you've known a thousand names and held a hundred hearts between your soft, living hands

but not here.

When you were twelve, you would lay under the stars and piece together constellations

tracing the stars on your arm

(Orion's belt--was it a sign? or just

a trick of fate)

They seemed to you kindred, singing

in voices as high and white as silver, of eternity

of oblivion

and you sang too

(but not aloud).

Now you sit in crowded coffee shops and stare across the table at

mortals. Caught up in their troubles, worrying

about jobs or romance or ethics.

You like being among them because

it grounds you and

keeps

     you

           from

               floating

away.

But when you feel 

the autumn wind in your hair

fresh from turning dying leaves into a dancing whirlwind

when you hear songs of kings and queens

or gods

or poets

when you stare up into the blackness of the night

and feel your heart whisper, "friends, I have missed you"

it is then that you recognize the dragon 

(or maybe the dinosaur)

for what it is.

Immortality.

The feeling that you alone know what it is

to live eternity over and over again

to catch a glimpse of the beyond

but never touch it

to always hear the song ringing in your ears

but never sing it.

Know this, mortals.

There may be only one of us

But we dwell among you

forever.

questioning

I've reached that stage where I understand why many great thinkers became atheists, and I'm not sure I'm quite comfortable with that.

First off--I'd be lying if I said I didn't consider myself a thinker. Yes, I know it's pompous and pretentious. But I think a lot, and I can't help but think I'm a little deeper than some of my friends, family, and co-workers.

For instance, I know when I'm being a fool. Well. Most of the time.

We've been hearing a lot about idols in church and it's just falling on deaf ears for me because I haven't got any idols. At least, not in the sense of "things you think your life would fall apart without." Not my writing anymore. Not my job. Not my friends. Not family.

It's almost scary, because I can't think of anything. But I know there are things I care about far too much--certain shows, certain feelings/emotions. Without the flash, without inspiration and Joy, life would be grim indeed...but are those Idols, or merely manifestations of His glory?

I know that the thought of heaven fills me with a greater joy than anything else on earth. I understand that it means fulfillment of all the things I desire but can't put a name to--the northernness, perhaps even what I've come to call "paganness." Yet while the abstract idea is grand to me, the everyday details of Christianity have come to feel trite and meaningless. Why do we stand around and sing songs about how alive we are now that another man has died? Why are lives (seemingly) transformed, only to revert back into practices of sin that becomes secret because of shame and fear of judgement?

A question was once posed to me that I failed to answer fully: How would your life look different if you were not a Christian?

In all honesty, I have to reply, "It wouldn't, very much."

I might not go to church. But then again I might, if only to please my parents, who I would still love and respect.

I would maybe curse a little more, and probably would have fewer inhibitions about believing things about certain social issues. I might be in love with different people. I might be less self-controlled, but also less guilt-ridden and angry at myself.

I would be more independent. I would be a little wilder. Yet I would probably choose the same people (Waves, over and over again) and the same groups and the same path. I would maybe do the things I hold back from doing for duty's sake--like spending my life traveling instead of trying to settle down and serve Him.

I wouldn't give my money to the church, but I think I would give it other places.

In other words, I'd be a fairly "good person" with fewer scruples about grey areas and a little more of a deathwish, probably, but still pretty stable. Just set on pursuing my own dreams and goals instead of trying to seek His will for my life.

That answer concerns me, because shouldn't my life with and without Christ look drastically different? Shouldn't I be living in such a way now that answering that question would stun me and make others marvel?

Ways I Could Be a Better Christian:
1. Sin less (obviously)
2. Better Bible/Prayer Habits
3. More Service/Selfless living
4. Humility, Kindness, Patience...more fruit of the Spirit
5. Less Pride
6. More Courage In Sharing the Gospel

And so on.

I know God doesn't want me to be a "better Christian." The work of purification and "washing and renewing" is HIS work, done by HIS hand, not mine. Yet I can't just sit by in a boat moored to the dock and expect for him to push me out to sea.

So many thoughts. Is it better that I doubt and have fear and such cynacism than if I lived in ignorant complacency?

I don't know. I only wish my faith was stronger, that I desired him more, that I had the energy and will to work harder at obeying and living in courage and faith.

Help me, Lord.