the forest meadow calls to me
in all its sweet wildness
in all its raw simplicity
so i heed the summons
let’s dance amidst the butterflies
let’s soak up the last of summer’s sun
perhaps you hear the thunder roll
and wonder at the storm resplendent
but please my love don’t tremble
i’ll do my best to keep you warm
we sit on a log at the end of years
fingers interlaced we talk of this and that
perhaps you’ll turn to me and smile
rain on canopy above goes rat-tat-tat
today you’re soaked in autumn’s tears
tomorrow perhaps you’ll turn to me and laugh
Towards Dawn we March ever So Slowly
Hello friends! A few words on a couple of books. I shall not be overly verbose this day, I swear.
51. The Wise Man’s Fear by Patrick Rothfuss. Oh Rothfuss. Leaving us hanging, are you? As I neared the ending of this one, I felt a few pangs of sorrow, knowing it is most unlikely we get a concluding book to this trilogy. Alas, but still I enjoyed reading this one, even knowing not all the questions shall be answered! I love how Rothfuss writes and this story continues Kvothe’s tale in all its glory and grandeur. I don’t like this one as much as the first book, perhaps partly because I feel this book stumbles a bit when Kvothe leaves the University. The first third or half of the book at the University is a delight to read, even if possibly it could have been drastically cut simply to move the plot along. The University portion really isn’t necessary to the story. But you know what? I don’t care. As someone who loves all the world-building in-between-filling prose of the Wheel of Time, I can’t hate the fact that Rothfuss takes time to simply show Kvothe’s continued growth at the University. My favourite parts are simply the times Kvothe is spending with his friends in all their ridiculousness. More of this. Less high drama please. I wrote a good bit more about the plot but then realised I really don’t want to summarize the whole book and erased all of it. At the end of the day, I do enjoy reading this one, but really don’t like how the author’s view of sex permeates the latter portions of this book and turn Kvothe into someone who it’s hard to root for. I’m much more on Denna’s side by the end of this, feeling a bit hurt and cast aside by the Kvothe she always felt she could count on. Still a beautiful story well told, even if he probably could have used a better editor to hustle along the plot. We may never get book 3, but at least we always have these first two. I honestly don’t really care about all the big questions – Chandrian, Amyr, Lockless box, Four-Plate Door, Kote/Kvothe mystery, etc. Honestly, I think Rothfuss shines most at the small moments – friends around a table at the tavern playing cards…music soaring through the air as Kvothe plays an old song and everyone sings along…Kvothe on a windy night gently conversing with a moon-bound girl. Rothfuss excels at these intimate scenes with characters you care about. I think Rothfuss should just tell Kvothe’s adventures at the University and forget all the rest of it. Would be a better tale, methinks.
52. The Trellis and the Vine by Colin Marshall & Tony Payne. This book is fine. I have had it on my shelf for a while and thought I may as well read through it. I confess I struggle with “church tactic” books and this one was no exception. I know such books and discussions are necessary. And there’s not really anything wrong with this book, per se. I think I just find myself wearied by books putting forth the newest, latest-greatest discovery of how to do church ministry right. I’m doing this book a disservice. The authors are humble and acknowledge the lineage of church-growth trends and fads and attempt to make it clear that due to the multiplicity of church locations, styles and cultures, it is certainly impossible to impose a one-size-fits-all approach on a local church. Still yet, the book at the end of the day doesn’t contain that much that is new. Yes, discipleship is crucial at a local level. Yes, future leaders and gifted contributors should be identified and encouraged. And I appreciate the authors making it clear that all growth in a church (both spiritual and numerical) depends on the grace and power of God. Of course God does use means and the authors are attempting to put forth a strategy of disciple-making that they feel best fits the New Testament context. But at times, it feels as if the authors are attempting to make the verses they cite say more than they actually do. Even so? This is not a bad book. It is important to remember that local churches should attempt to minister to the people in their midst and part of such will be raising up the next generation of leaders. There were a few times I felt uneasy and that the authors were almost implicitly giving permission for church leaders to ignore the weaker and less-than in favour of the “people to watch out for”. That’s not entirely fair and I do understand any leader has to make hard decisions on how to spend their time. Still yet? Books such as this just give me a little twinge of unease at times. I thank God for his work in the church and that whatever the latest trend du jour is, he will continue to build his church. We must not be passive ourselves and we must press forward to encourage and build up our fellow saints. But always and forever, we lean on our Lord Jesus Christ and worship Him. One of the best things a church leader can do is model what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ and proclaim his beauty and majesty in ways that make it impossible for outsiders to ignore the strangeness and radicality of the church of God. I’m grateful for books such as this that attempt to highlight ways churches have found profitable to glorify Jesus Christ and make Him known. But just know there is no one cookie-cutter way, there is no one tactic that can be deployed blindly in all circumstances and find success. Only through ceaseless seeking of Christ and utter reliance on the Holy Spirit can we in faithful witness strive. We set our hands to the plow and we know we are not alone.
Lighthouse
Attend to that light upon the horizon, my friend or else-
you know the tales of course
crashing upon rocks and cries of the doomed
fire below and fire above
and on high the keening wail of angels
so what say you so what?
Attend to that light is all I ask
Trust the keeper and keep a firm hand
Dawn comes but not for all
Attend my friend, attend.
Path Meditations
Why do all my songs of late so often mention that pilgrim path? I like to think of the forest green and beautiful and then that path that winds ever on and on through the thick of the trees and brush to end up on that far shore that calls my name. The path imagery is an old one and indeed one that has been used often throughout the past ages. One thinks of life as a journey from birth to the far unknown and there is no more natural metaphor than that of a path. So I suppose I could say that I am not being particularly original with my creative prose and poetry when I so often go back to that ancient well. Yet sometimes the tried and true is best. There is no confusion when I talk of the pilgrim on the path and the trials and travails that may beset him as he walks on. There is a nodding of the head and an echoing in the heart. We all have walked on paths through the forest before – or at least most of us have, I daresay – and we are all of necessity making our way through life as a pilgrim who comes from dust and will end as dust. So of course. One could use other metaphors of course, and I often have. I like to imagine one sailing on a ship towards that far horizon and that eternal shore. Of course, this is only another angle of the same pilgrimage. We are still going from one place to another, from one time to another. Only the setting and scenery change.
So at the end of the day, as I reflect on the fact that I perhaps use this imagery of a path too often to express the longings of my heart, I come to the realization that I don’t really mind this. I do not believe I am exposing my creative vacuousness. Instead, I believe I am expressing a simple faith. I know I have been created from nothing and though on this earth I may also appear to be progressing towards eventual nothingness, I have a hope that this is not entirely so. Instead, I look forward to the resurrection of the body, a resurrection that is prefigured by the resurrection of Jesus Christ himself, who even now stands in heaven above and advocates for me his little brother. I have a hope and faith that someday I will in my own body stand before my God and with my own eyes gaze upon his glory. This is my song, my salvation!
And so? Perhaps my writing may start with a path, but it is not a path in isolation. There is a destination and a place where the walking stops and perhaps a fire on the beach to welcome me to my eternal rest as I prepare to feast with my Lord God at that wedding supper. I do not walk without purpose. And I do not walk alone.
Extra Time
Hello friends! Quick post before I move into some reading time here. It’s Saturday evening and finally but finally it’s time to rest. To be sure, it’s been a good day, just quite…errands filled. Took the car in for an oil change first thing, then stopped and saw the guys for a few minutes at breakfast taco place. Following that, back home to see Dani awake! We went for a little grocery store run to pick up all the necessary items for next few days…then back home for taco breakfast. Then? Cooking time! Prepped my green bean and potato salad for church potluck tomorrow. I’m actually super psyched for that one, it’s a new recipe and it should be yummy (red potatoes, fresh green beans, sliced red onions, oil, vinegar, spices & cherry tomatoes). That done, Dani and I decided a rare Saturday gym visit was in order. Drove down to the gym and conquered an upper body session, then up to car shop to pick up Dani’s car (its last hurrah to her great sorrow). Once back home, we drove out again to get some Target time! Wandered the aisles there, ending up not buying anything and then home again, where I have spent the last good bit prepping burritos for tonight’s dinner. Finally, shower and now finally couch and rest. And watching the rest of the Norway/England game. On England! And I am amused, after writing all that, I do feel justified with a nice long reading time. My body is tired, my mind is tired…it will feel good to sink into a book and enjoy some sweet rest time that my Father has given me. I did want to write more and write something deep and encouraging, but perhaps this will just be a newsy update and that’s all and I really don’t have to write anything more, as much as I often feel the weight of all the whirling thoughts and feelings that cry out.
So now? Rest and but still maybe that rest can be found in writing a little something? We shall see. Peace and love, my friends. Peace and love.
Potter’s Wheel
morning light is sometimes like water trickling down the side of the brick
not quite enough to make a difference
yet beautiful in the way it teases the solidity of the earth
and there is a hello goodbye quality to it if you understand
nighttime stillness broken with the mumble of a tired greeting
spoken by the girl in her bright red hoodie
eyes spark in recognition of the immortal soul that passes
and drip drip drip falls the light from heaven
upon my upturned face and i drink it up
Seashore
Good morning, friends! A Monday dawns and light breaks upon us in waves and soon the heat shall follow and we shall be reminded that yes indeed, summer is in full bloom. I wish I could say I’m grateful for summer’s heat but I don’t know if my gratitude for creation’s glory can stretch quite that far. Ah I suppose I could talk myself into it somehow. Summer is a good and proper season and the heat does make one sigh with wistful longing in anticipation for autumn’s arrival, so there is that. Summer – it’s here. July is a month that we know is going to be hot and that is that and no use complaining about it, so I shan’t.
But instead what I shall I use these few minutes before work to talk about? I don’t know, really. I opened this page knowing I had a few minutes so why not write something? I suppose I could say I’m just grateful for the time I had this morning to read the Word and meditate on God’s goodness to me. Even with not quite enough sleep last night (watching the scintillating England/Mexico game – England pulled out an all-time classic win in Mexico City – on the Lions!), I still was able to roll out of bed prior to 5am and get a shower, make coffee and then sit myself down and give myself some nice uninterrupted time to read.
Psalm 46, Proverbs 6, a series of depressing but inspired chapters in Jeremiah – oh how convicting it is to read such and oh how it makes me feel I ought be praying more for mercy for myself and our community and nation – and then beautiful chapters in Luke on the ministry of our Lord Jesus Christ. Got to read Luke 7 and the story of Jesus with the woman who was a sinner. One of my all-time favourite passages and one that never fails to bring me to a halt as I consider and ponder what my Lord has done for me. Oh how beautiful it is to think on the fact that Jesus has forgiven me all my sin. I have been forgiven much. I have been forgiven everything!! How great then ought be my love? Utterly convicting to feel how often my love is cold and dry and how often I fail to be constantly praising my Lord and God for what he has done for me. I need to spend more time meditating on the wonder that is my salvation and my forever communion with my God. What a glorious thing it is to consider that I am a child of God. I have life with God and I have it to the full. I abide in Christ and in him I find true rest. This yoke is indeed easy, this burden is indeed light. In Christ and in Christ alone do I have rest for my soul. It is good to sit at the feet of Jesus this day. Oh how I long for that someday far off trumpet call and that moment when the horizon blurs with light as I see the last dawning and behold the consummation of all things as creation is made new. Oh how I long for that day when the sky quivers and the clouds break and my Lord Jesus Christ stands before my resurrected frame. For now, I tremble in dust and ashes. Someday though, I shall see my Lord with my own eyes, even though now my flesh and my heart are oh so prone to failing. Thank you, Lord, for taking me by the hand each and every moment. Please Lord, lead me to glory.
Considerations
A few thoughts on a few latest reads. Peace and love, my friends.
49. The Abolition of Man by C.S. Lewis. As always, Lewis is a profitable read here. This small volume is one I’ve had my eye on for some time and grateful I finally got the chance to read it. Lewis always makes me think, and this book was no different in stimulating various pathways down which my thoughts danced. Every time I finished reading a few pages, I felt like putting this book down simply to consider and ponder what I had read. What is this book on about? It could at times be thought of as Lewis attempting to address the rising tides of post-modernist thought. Or it could be said that this is Lewis attempting to uphold the standard of the real and the true and the beautiful, as he so often does. At the end of the day, I would argue that this is Lewis attempting to write a philosophical work grappling with the core truths of this world and creation in which we live and attempting to do so without explicitly defending Christianity or even theism as such. Yes, he in text acknowledges himself as one who is a Christian and holds to this faith as what he believes is true. But as Lewis is so fond of pointing out the truth kernels at the bottom of all true myths, so Lewis here points to the underlying beliefs and statements found in various forms throughout the ages which show us ever so clearly that there is something true in the heart and conscience of every man, no matter how we attempt to degrade and mar it. And Lewis also attempts to highlight the utter uniqueness and glory of man – something that we now see as a bit crude if not outright chauvinistic. Nature is not truly agnostic after all, Lewis would argue. Instead all points to a core and utter reality that is perhaps not quite able to be grasped in its totality, but still glimpsed at from various angles for those who have the eyes to see. I have rambled on about this book long enough and fear I have not done it justice. This is a book that makes one think, and for that I am grateful.
50. Humble Roots by Hannah Anderson. A wonderful delight of a book, bracing in its clarity and sparkling in its beauty. I have had this book on my shelf for years(!!) and yet never quite got around to reading it until now, to my shame. Many thanks to Julie for recommending it to me who knows how many years ago. For truly, this book was good for my soul. I found myself eagerly waiting for the next opportunity I had to read a chapter and I daresay I will find myself re-reading this one for many years to come. This book is an odd hodgepodge at times. Each chapter has a bit of a framing device using the author’s experiences and memories in rural Virginia – usually highlighting a fruit or flower or some such. This could be seen initially as a bit distracting from the main message of humility yet…perhaps I was viewing this book in the wrong lens at first and perhaps my view was a bit narrow! I was thinking “Ah, this is a book about humility, and will have lots of Bible verses and discussion on Christian truths.” And well…this book is about humility. And it is fairly saturated with Christian truths. And also? This book contains so many beautiful reflections on the truths we see proclaimed in the created beauty that we see around us and even in the every day mundane. So yes! This book is about the beautiful and the mundane, the glorious and the common, the divine and the created. This book is about what it is to be humble before God, truly understanding who we are and who God is. This book is about toil and labor and about trust and rest. This book is about looking to Christ in all his glory and beholding Christ in all his humanity and recognizing that in Him we have found our way to God. This book contains so many gorgeous ponderings on the every day and was a help and an aid to me in being able to step through the day with the understanding and confident belief that God walks through us in the midst of all the muck and mire in which we find ourselves and that no matter what comes, our God is with us still. This book firmly points to the sovereignty of God and the frailties of man, yet not without acknowledging the call that comes to us to walk in obedience and toil and labor before our God yet understanding that the burden is not on us to accomplish the miracle of bringing seed to fruit. Very grateful for the simple and beautiful ways the author has of highlighting a truth and making it sing in the heart. Of course it does not hurt that so many of the authors and works the author cited are also some of my very favorites (Andrew Murray, Wendell Berry, ML Jones, and many more). I would recommend this book to anyone who feels tired and weary and in need of rest. This book points to the one who can bring true rest to our souls. Oh how good it is to ponder the one who is the Resurrection and the Life and the one who is our hope and our song and yes even our salvation!
Needle and Thread
The storm comes. The woman sits on her perch at the top of the waterfall and pulls her arms around herself as the wind sweeps down as herald of what is to come. Small flashes of lightning briefly appear here and there across the sky as the purple grey clouds come closer. What shall she do? She doesn’t quite mind getting wet. Indeed, the water rushing below her provides a constant fine mist that has been keeping her cool this hot summer afternoon. But the clouds do not look very friendly anymore. Her heart races as a crackle-pop-boom sounds across the sky. She really ought to run off. The cabin was a quarter-mile down the path and if she ran now she might just make it. But her poem. Her notebook page was half-filled and her writing had run away from her thoughts just barely keeping pace with her heart. The writing sprawled from coherent to slightly chaotic but there was a sense of the real about it. And now? The clouds are almost upon her. The sky is a slightly slickly shade of green. She blinks once and inscribes a couplet upon her heart. She jumps up and off the rock and off down the grassy path she runs. A drop falls. Her poem will keep even if the drenching rains fall. The pages of her notebook might not. She runs with all her might, holding her notebook under her shirt even as her clothes begin to soak through. But there is the light twinkling. There is the porch and there is the open door. She laughs as the thunder shakes the earth.
Haven
A Friday evening beckons. And this is one of my favourite types of evenings full with all my favourite types of things. I am simple, I know, but there is not much I enjoy than a quiet evening at home in which I can simply sit still and rest. Ah how wonderful it is when there are moments in which there is nothing I simply must do. Instead? We have a quiet evening ahead in which there will be sitting and reading and yes, even some watching of World Cup action (Argentina vs. Cape Verde)! It’s been a long week and though it’s been a good one – I will always be grateful for work and the normal rhythms of the day-to-day – I am so grateful we have reached its end and tonight is a night of rest. Soon enough, Dani shall be cooking dinner and we shall enjoy a hearty meal. But for now? I rest. I have thought of writing and I suppose you could say this present output is a writing of sorts. Not quite as creative as I was hoping. But you know what? That’s ok. Perfection beckons. But in this moment, simple rest is good enough.
Something Weird 