i am grateful for heaven
and for this ancient tree
that means more
than i could ever tell
even if i wrote all the books
in all the worlds
and at 8-point font to boot
for this tree signifies
a moment that caused this earth
to tremble
and for me means life
eternal
Month: December 2025
First Date
Bro stop it
you’re doing it again
slow down, ask, listen
there you go
undisguised and mercenary
but it’s a start
give her space give her time
allow her the space to rhyme
and allow the moment to blossom
if it will
for it won’t always and
you know what
that’s ok
Small Symmetries
she allows herself a moment
to gather
her thoughts
twirl about the room
a madcap extravaganza
upon which she smiles
in mild horror
before breathing deep
whispering lines of eternity
laying her hand upon the book
dreams of ancient stories
her heart sang in harmony
in strong swift music
upon which she stands
a sunlit autumn meadow
and a picnic feast laid out
she muses
open hands
broad lines down the highway
time stretches
A Rose For Your Thoughts
It’s lovely to walk through the old graveyard this day. Sometimes at night, it’s hard for one to see the beauty of a place full of crumbled stones and dying flowers, even though I believe I could write another essay on why nighttime graveyard walks are no less full of magic. But today, let me focus. Let me set the scene and see if perhaps I can place you there so you can see for yourself.
You walk up to the wrought-iron gate and put your hand upon it. It is warm, though the sun is not shining directly on it now. You look to the right and then to the left and see there is not another soul to be seen as far as the eye can see. Of course that calls to your mind the thought of the departed souls for which this graveyard stands in silent testimony.
There are more modern facilities these days of course for the housing of the dead. More and more people, for various reasons that make sense to you, are deciding that cremation is an option to be chosen. And of course there are those who feel a tinge of distaste on thinking of laying one’s loved ones in the ground surrounded by the bones of strangers. A graveyard is no longer a communal resting place which contains the stories and histories of a community now long past. For there are no longer many who can tell these stories. And history is fickle, for so little remains of the personal tales once two or three generations have passed. So at the end of the day? A graveyard can look from the outside as if it just a place for dusty stones and crumbling flowers, a monument to the futility of life.
But now? You breathe deep in the winter afternoon and smell the fresh scent of pine. The air is cold of course, but not so cold that your flannel shirt cannot handle it. Instead, you welcome the light of the fading sun upon your uplifted face and close your eyes in quiet meditation. You have still not opened the gate for you are allowing yourself a moment. Perhaps it is time. You swing open the gate and enter in.
You walk slowly down the central path, allowing your feet to veer off to the right underneath some overhanging branches that seem to welcome you in to a warm embrace. The path is merely beaten down dirt, no cement or concrete here. Leaves are strewn across and you welcome the sound of the crunch your feet makes as you walk. And of course, pine needles everywhere. You welcome the lack of destination this walk demands. There is no one waiting for you. There is no appointment at the end which desires your focus or concentration. Instead, you simply allow your feet to wander where they will. The further back you walk, the smaller and more faded the stones appear. There are stories here, epics even. You see a grouping of stones together and wonder which family they represent, for the engravings are now all but gone. Leaves curl about the stones and there is a ray of light slanted across two of them, highlighting the light grey, whispering of pale stories told around the fireplace. You continue on and make your way to the rear of the graveyard, where the oldest and largest tree holds court. Its roots sprawl comfortably about the autumn grass. You decide to take a moment. Or perhaps two or three or ten. And you sit down in one of the most comfy looking crooks of the tree’s roots and snuggle in the leaves that have also made their home there. You allow your gaze to sweep across the breadth of the graveyard that lies before you. There is a faded majesty lit by the light of the December sun and you sigh in wonder that you have been granted a glimpse that makes your heart ache for longing. There is a quiet anticipation that hangs in the stillness, an unresolved air that makes you tilt your head slightly and wonder. A leaf drifts down and kisses you on the cheek.
A Little of This
Hello my friends! I sit here in a random coffeeshop this hour. Or actually not so random. Antidote, long time no see. I believe it’s been years since I’ve actually sat here with my laptop to write. It’s strange to be back again but also kind of homey and I have now realised I need to come here more often. Mayhaps you will fill this hole in my cosy coffeeshop craving heart that has not fully healed since the closing of EQ. We shall see. But for now? It’s kind of nice to feel comfortable and at ease in coffeeshop with partial grunge/industrial vibes. I’m weird I know, come out and say it. Anyways! What shall I write? It’s a luxury this afternoon, I have a bit of unhurried time in which I can simply sit here and write and/or read and I don’t have anywhere I have to be for a few hours. What is this wonderful gift that has been granted me!? So I sit here now with my hot decaf americano and sip slowly, grateful for a fully-charged laptop, a beautiful upright chair (why is back support so important these days – I suppose I am not in my 20s anymore…) and the beautiful buzz of background conversation that makes me feel as if I am in the midst of people living their lives and talking about drama and I feel most assuredly that as I type here and now I am not alone. Well, of course I know that and generally I do not give in to melancholia (please no one call me a liar, especially please don’t quote any of my poems), but sometimes the silence that comes with sitting in your own room can make one feel a bit claustrophobic and manic at times. You know? Is that just me? Hm. I have forgotten how alive I feel when I write at a coffeeshop. Of course all this typing now is just nonsense stream-of-consciousness perfectly geared to warm up my writing muscles and relax my mind in order that I might more sweetly seduce my muse into giving up some of her charms to me this lovely December afternoon. We shall see how successful I am and I am most certainly not promising anything profound. But do I enjoy writing just for the sake of it sometimes? A thousand times yes, even if nothing productive or beautiful results. So I make up the tenth person in this small coffeeshop (not counting barista – for some reason, no one ever does count the barista, hm) and as I sweep the small confines with my gaze, I feel my heart warm as I consider these wonderful men and women whom I share this space with this day. I wonder what their heart fills with as they sit here breathing the same air as I. I ponder what dreams rage within their hearts as their faces flush with anticipation for what their soul longs. For me, I am grateful that I can in peace and quiet write a few words. I feel my heart slow and my mind still as I prepare to enjoy this most beautiful afternoon. Peace and love, my friends.
Fixed it For You
A few thoughts on my latest read this warm December evening.
83. The Everlasting Righteousness by Horatius Bonar. A beautiful book on the righteousness of Christ and its implications for those who put their trust in him. I was looking for a little book on Christ that would aid my devotion and meditation on him, and this certainly fit the bill! Its subtitle is “How shall man be just with God” and most certainly this book answered the question with the answer being self-evident from the title alone. At times we can trust to our own efforts or goodness, even if we would not put it quite so boldly out loud. Yet at times we often think we have done a bit of what is necessary to give God cause to love us, true? This book is a wonderful corrective to such thinking, driving one to the cross. Only in Christ can man be just with God. Only through Christ and his righteousness, for we have naught to bring! We are blind indeed and those who know such and cry out to the great Healer will surely find their eyes opened and eternal life in the bargain. The majority of this book deals with the subject of Christ’s righteousness and the imputation of such to the sinner who puts his trust in Christ. I probably read this a bit too quickly and I think it would well repay a slower reading. The author did add a few chapters at the end on both the significance and result of the resurrection of Christ as well as the necessary outcome of holy living for the one who is truly covered by the righteousness of Christ. These are “side issues” as it were to the main subject of the justification of the sinner through Christ’ righteousness, yet I’m still grateful that the author decided to add these chapters as they are simply magnificent and heart stirring in all their grandeur. Meditating on the resurrection of Christ was true balm for my soul!! I probably have said too many words on this one already. It’s a small book, the chapters perfectly sized for a short evening’s reading. Though this book may come across a bit dated to some (written over a hundred and fifty years ago now), I’m still most grateful I read this and shall certainly pick it up again when I am seeking to be encouraged and reminded of why I am so confident of that hope which I call my own.
Snowfall
what do you want for Christmas?
I could do with something simple she says thoughtfully
Perhaps a scarf or a new mug or even a candle
I know it seems trite but sometimes the little gifts
shine brighter in my mind
than all the elaborate gifts that require me to smile louder
than my heart truly means
you know right?
I’d take one night with you cuddled up on the sofa
watching a silly holiday movie
perhaps with a hot drink
and we can giggle together and feel there is no tomorrow
sometimes those nights are best
I think perhaps that can be arranged
you pick out the movie and i’ll start heating up the milk
yes sir we have a deal
A Lamb Shakes Her Tail
A fine December morning dawns. Well, almost dawns. I believe it is still dark at the moment yet I know the sun is hovering just barely off stage simply waiting for her cue. I have no doubt we shall witness her entrance soon enough. As to the now? I thought I’d just pop in for a second and write a few words on my latest book before work begins in earnest. Grateful that this work week is not going to be long – hello vacation my old friend! Soon. Soon. Hopefully the take off this week leads to much writing. No promises. Now enough rambling.
82. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. A week or so back I decided that I really felt in the mood for a proper Christmas-y book to welcome in the Christmas season. And…is there really any better book than this one? I think not, even if there is no snow falling in my present climes. I forgot how much I love this book. It never ceases to warm my soul. And I’m pretty sure each time I read it, I discover new nuggets of truth and beauty. Lewis tells this tale with such simplicity and wonder, I dare say I’m almost jealous of his skill in such. There is much in this book to recommend it, not least that it points to deeper and greater truths that make this heart swell with joy. I love this book and I’m now contemplating whether or not I should read it every Christmas. This is one of the greats.
Let Us Sing in Harmony she Said Eagerly to Me
The vegetables have been chopped. The chicken thighs are roasting in the oven. Soon enough I will heat up the stove and begin the process which shall presumedly end in a delightfully yummy chicken and barley soup. For now though, I can sit here and blissfully rest. I say that as if I have been strenuously working all day, which is most certainly not the case. Still yet, I am grateful for this moment. Dani and I had a lovely walk here there and everywhere (a little over 4.5 miles I believe) and oh how wonderful was it to enjoy this early December day in all its shy beauty! The fading evening light washed over us as we walked and it did my soul good to breathe in the wintry air this day. Now I think perhaps a book is about to be opened. Multiple books even. The candle is lit, as is only proper. And soon enough the scents of chicken soup shall waft their way throughout our little home and I shall then – even as I am now – sing praises to my Lord. Too often do I forget that all these things that have been given me come from my God. On that note, I am away. My soul thrills to to read a few words now on Christ and his marvelous work for me. I sit at the foot of the cross and weep for love.
Still ambling on down that old dusty path
Hello friends! I want to write more later and most likely hopefully I shall. But Dani and I will be going for a walk shortly so the long and winding writing will have to wait. But I have a few minutes. So. I can catch up on a couple books! I think I can write briefly about them – at least I challenge myself to do such. So here goes nothing.
80. At Home in Mitford by Jan Karon. A delightful homey and cozy novel. I was recommended this one by a dear friend who knows me well and so I knew for sure I’d have to give this one a try. Well worth it even though I was a little unsure for a bit! Also I laugh as I think of my thoughts when I started this one. I had no idea of the setting or what this book was about. Ah, Mitford? Could be anywhere right? So I spent the first few pages assuming it was a small English town. Soon enough, knew that definitely couldn’t be right. Maybe New England, a la Stars Hollow or something of the like? Then I realized it seemed far too southern and I was just very confused. Finally realized Mitford is in North Carolina. Of course! That really helped me lock in sense of place and I read on unbothered. Anyways! Now that we’ve established where Mitford is, what kind of book is this? It’s the classic tale of a small town rector and his adventures in his parish and town, with far more chaos and drama than you may expect. Or rather, perhaps you would expect exactly these types of shenanigans in a small town! Father Tim is a delightful character, well-worn and self-aware in all the best ways, sympathetic and empathetic both – one who is aware of his own humanity and foibles and still yet seeks to love those around him. This book is a bit rough around the edges at times and I can’t say it’s perfect. Yet? Does not that mirror life a bit and does not this book simply reflect back at us what we know we’d see when we stare into the mirror? There are some truly lovely passages in this one and even moments of the gospel shining through bright and clear. I always smiled as I picked this up to enjoy reading another chapter. It did take a bit to warm up to the characters and remember who is who. But though I can’t say this book is perfect, there is much heart and warmth here and really? We need more books like this, that are unafraid of presenting the messiness and chaos of life honestly.
81. The Gagging of God – Christianity Confronts Pluralism by D.A. Carson. A magisterial work. I hesitate to even attempt to sum this one up. But it’s a book that I shall return to often and would not hesitate to read again, so well does it help aid my thoughts as I ponder this current age in which we live and the prevailing paradigm of thought that shapes and influence this world in which we live. We do indeed live in a world that is increasingly small and connected, even more so than when this book by Carson was written (over 30 years ago now!) and it’s easy and frankly just good manners to assign equal worth and value to various beliefs, religions, and ways of thinking. Surely the very thought of objective truth is a bit regressive these days, no? Carson aims to confront such and openly and plainly does so as someone who believes in and holds true to the doctrines of orthodox Christianity. I was wondering when I started reading this if Carson’s thoughts would be a bit dated now as surely we have moved so much past where we were when Carson wrote this back in the day. Thankfully though things have changed some, Carson writes with wisdom and keen-sighted conviction and most of what he writes rings true even now (though perhaps some of his examples are a bit out-of-vogue!). This is a historical work and much of what he references in the 80s and 90s are “ancient” history now, so it is fascinating to see what present-day theologians thought of certain philosophical and Christian progressions in thought and practice.
These are far too many introductory thoughts perhaps because I don’t think I can properly sum up this book in a small post here. I tore into this book the past month and eagerly looked forward to every moment I had to read more. I loved and was thrilled to see how Carson began this work by working through epistemology and setting a groundwork for the philosophies we see present in this world today. He then unapologetically moves forward with describing a Christian worldview and why we as Christians are warranted to believe and understand the doctrines of God and salvation as laid out in Holy Scriptures. Carson engages with many other authors (some I knew and had actually read, others I have now added to my mental rolodex) and many other philosophers to attempt to describe an evangelical Christian’s understanding of this world in both its seen and metaphysical reality. I think it was en vogue then and is en vogue now to consider Christians who believe in the reality of the authority of the Bible and its accounts (especially as regards to the supernatural and miraculous) as simple and unintelligent, people who are not really that bright but simply clinging on to their religious beliefs as part of their cultural heritage. This book is one in which the author attempts to show that the beliefs of Christianity are not only perfectly valid and philosophically sound but also may certainly be core to the truth that points us to the true God who is there. Carson works through the storyline of the Bible and brilliantly shows how as we properly and carefully interpret the Bible around its central plot-line, we understand that it is one cohesive work from a God who in this word communicates to us his creation how we might be right with him.
I know that I am not intellectually suited or prepared to fully take in and argue the points that Carson makes, but I am grateful for works such as this that remind me yet again what it means to be a Christian, why I believe what I believe, and then the question that always comes next – how then do we live? Carson engages with the wider Christian community and then even the “evangelical” camp (whatever does that mean? Carson tries to explain) in how we as Christians should work out our faith in this world, even as we attempt to witness to this broken world of this glorious gospel with which we have been entrusted. I’m sure Carson’s orthodox views may be too dogmatic for some, especially as he grapples with some of the harder questions and seeks to counter the “wider mercy” views that some Christians hold. Carson firmly holds onto what we have seen revealed to us in Scripture and refuses to countenance relying on thought studies that go beyond Scripture. At the end of the day, once we have decided we can only serve a God made in our image, we have committed grossest idolatry as we in our arrogance dare to sit in judgment of the Almighty who is revealed. While we cannot fully understand God’s ways and purposes, it is folly for us to contradict that which has been revealed in Scripture simply because it makes us squeamish. I’m sure this will rub some the wrong way, but I do appreciate the fact that Carson does not shy away from boldly and unapologetically holding fast to the God of Scripture (as interpreted in honest and holistic fashion). At the end of the day, I cannot say I fully understand God or know Him as I ought. Yet I am ever so grateful for books such as this that honestly and carefully examine our beliefs and thought patterns and help me further grasp the God who is. God is my salvation, my strength and my stronghold and my deliverer. Even in this age where myths and dogmas rise and fall in foggy chaos, I can with confidence say that I know that my Redeemer lives and that at the last I shall see him, even these very eyes shall see him – this God who was pierced for me.
Something Weird 