Irresistible

“Grace is the celebration of life, relentlessly hounding all the non-celebrants in the world. It is a floating, cosmic bash shouting its way through the streets of the universe, flinging the sweetness of its cassations to every window, pounding at every door in a hilarity beyond all liking and happening, until the prodigals come out at last and dance, and the elder brothers finally take their fingers out of their ears.” 

- Robert Farrar Capon

Ode to Yesteryear

There's that young, restless heart again. So wily, so off the cuff. Actually, I don't think that I wore cuffs often enough to consider any of my actions not riddled with spontaneity.

Late nights, tired eyes, rock and roll music that really makes my heart feel like it was all a dream until now. Waking up, driving to numb, I find things that pull me back to getting butterflies and having less of an iron constitution.

Reality hits, the record player screeches to a halt. I forgot to water the plants, I have two bills and freelance bids due that I'd much rather bid adieu. The clock ticks on, and there's not a solitary thing I can do to stop it. Sadly, I never learned French like I wanted to, and I haven't gotten to that washboard physique that would make me photo worthy of Billboard's Hit 100 chart in a nice modern gentleman's suit. Or at least be friends with Ryan Gosling.

I was never one for skinny ties, and I certainly have no skinny ties because I'm half British and my dad eats victory and protein shakes for breakfast each morning. Genetics says I'll have husky bloom, thanks to coach. I'm still working to be fit though, but for reasons of stewardship. Image isn't everything, because all is vanity. My silver lining comes in when the bass drops, and mulling over all my influences musical and otherwise have started to find their home amidst the cogs and colored shapes that make of the musical parts of my heart and mind. I'm appreciative of these things building up inside, but I'm dangerously itching to open the floodgates before this levy breaks.

There's a younger me that never got to be, and he's living locked up without a key. He never got the chance, he never received the benefit of the doubt, he never knew how to say what he meant. So, he slips me notes every now and again, flipping light switches that I forgot were even there. Some things you just can't go back to, and the things I've done are all for a reason, and the things I never got to do aren't lost. This isn't the end. Finishing an album isn't an end. Buying a house or getting married aren't the finish line. These are all just checkpoints, and that kid kicks my heart to remind me of the fiery passion I used to have. Keeps me from being gray and predictable. Keeps me from being hopelessly adorable like Harold Krick.

Well, the passion is still there...just buried underneath receipts, calendar notifications, spilled coffee and Coldplay vinyl sleeves. I'm only in my mid twenties, and I feel older, and look older still. Pick up the needle and start it over, but flip it to side B please.

Thanks,

The Management.

Another Day

I've never experienced such a rush, a burst of everything.
The last few weeks have been remarkable for writing new songs.
Lots of singing, so many things to say, so real and I can't believe what's happening.

Maybe it's the rain, maybe it's a stir I've never known, but autumn has got me thinking about life, love, fire, and giving it all away. It's remarkable, but when things are not ideal, or when the people around you aren't who you expected to end up with, there really is a change of pace.

Where my treasure is, what I value and what means the most to me, is where my heart will be also.
Making strides and efforts and painstaking advanced to do the things I want to do. It's never been a matter of ability, no. It's always been a matter of wills. A matter of "is this something I absolutely want." Because in that case, it doesn't matter how I get there, if I want it, I will get there.

So, Jesus is the center, Jesus is my all. If my desire is to follow him, truly and unadulterated, then no matter the means, I will follow. All secondary and tertiary things follow suit in the same principle.

A lot is before me, and even more is behind me. I'm thankful for where God has me.

some of all of the things

That moment when you cry, because your heart is stirred so much and brimming with so many of the things. And part of crying is because you can actually feel. And another part of it is that you're shocked it's actually still in there, connected, and living. And the biggest part is that people are dying, and people are going on their own ways and all you want is for Jesus to make it all better and take you away.

THIS life or any life, or even by definition of the meaning and worth of life, is not meant to be alone.

My heart breaks for my grandmother, she has lost her love for over a decade now. She still kicks on.
My heart breaks for my brother, he's lost all sense of what love is meant to be and bought into the lie.
My heart breaks for my coworkers, and their workaholism and listless identities in fleeting things.
My heart breaks for this city, because it looks so nice and beautiful, but so are white washed tombs.
My heart breaks, and that's cause for joy, because in all things I aim to worship my Lord.
My heart breaks, and I'm relieved that I'm a son.
My heart breaks, and the hope and weight of future glory on that day keeps me running.
My heart breaks because the weight of this world hits so hard.
My heart breaks when I feel alone and that my days are passing too quickly, and I want to love for realsies this time.

My heart is healed because of the work and grace of Christ my King.
Jesus heals an ever breaking heart, and he is my peace and comfort.
And to know that it's ok to have a broken and contrite heart makes it easier to cry over things that really matter, and that my heart is to be a son who really matters and gives each possible passing moment to my Father who so graciously and generously gives life and all it's inhabitants; not alone.

Rugged and Refined

There's not much of a difference between a gentleman and a mountain man. I mean to say, a proper gentleman, and a real mountain man. The contrast is in the polish, but otherwise, they are the same man.

Etiquette and manners is essentially consideration and respect. A gentleman stands when a lady approaches the table, enters a room, or upon the exchange of salutations. He holds the door open, offers to light her cigarette, gives her his coat when there's a chill or sign of rain, and always esteems her with the utmost respect. He isn't afraid to work hard, and in fact he does. He will be sure to speak his mind, but with thought and poise. His respect for the common man transcends his personal preferences. He knows his personal preferences, and there's an elegance in his confidence. He is refined and outstanding.

A mountain man works hard to provide food, shelter, protection and comfort for his woman, and family if applicable. His attire suits him for his needs pertaining to the season, and he always shows himself presentable after a long day's work. He fights off wolves and hostile natives to defend his woman and his plot. He tames horses and bridles oxen for their braun and power. His kindredness and hospitality are known throughout the land for those who perhaps wander along his way. His giving hand is reinforced by his working arm. He works hard, and isn't afraid to get dirty. He has his principles and convictions, and with him belongs the utmost respect and attentive ear. He knows his personal preferences, and enjoys the fruit of God's creation. There's a sophistication to his simple life, yet he is rugged and outstanding.

Different times, different places, different appearances, but these men are entirely too much the same because of character and integrity. And even more so that God has made them both. These personifications can also be held by the same man; inseparable except for what the eye perceives.

It's not like that...I promise.

room to breathe

And then all made clean, I saw upon the screen all the stones I throw....

Time for focus, patience, grace, and a higher road. It's going to be a good thing no matter what, but I feel as though it'll take some time, and certainly a lot more prayer. I've grown accustomed to staying on the side lines, but anymore, I'm going to remain by your side. In the thick of it, in the moment of it, in the heat of pressure and uncertainty. That's the biggest step of faith, putting all my chips in.

Never did I imagine any of this, but it's all that's on my mind now. I cannot see beyond this fragile piece of life, but I can seem to see everyone else's. So, I stay the course, and trust the Lord. Otherwise, I'm undone.

I dissolve and break and then away I crawl, and then away I crawl.