Alkaline

I heard of a story where an interviewer was asking a pastor how much Jesus meant to him. The pastor didn't say anything. He just cried. I thought that was beautiful, but kind of weird. Then, one day, I started thinking about how my dad loves me. It made me cry a little. It's really quite wonderful. I've heard Jesus loves better than any man. It doesn't make me cry though. Maybe I don't know it yet.

There was a girl, and when she started praying, it was evident that this was something she was familiar with. Who she was talking to. Honestly, I didn't listen to her prayer much at all. She spoke as someone speaking to someone they could tell anything to. Someone she had spent oodles of time with. 

I kind of sort of want what these people have. This pastor. This girl. It's a bit hard to think that you can find someone inside a book. Isn't there more?

Glass Onion

I really like music. It is pretty wonderful. I got some more of it recently. It is fantastic. I was a bit iffy about some of it, but it all works. Everything fits. Some giant, beautiful puzzle.

I have a plan. It's not good to say this yet, because I came up with it today, and I don't follow through as often as I have plans. This one might be mostly different. I'm working two jobs, and house sitting for some friends. So, virtually three jobs, and no time to spend money. Really. I'm pretty clever, so I will find a way, but I should be spending less. With these ridiculous streams of workaholic income, I'll be full of money and no where to spend it, really, with my lack of time. So, like the plan was a long time ago, I can go to school in September. Like, this was sort of always the plan. This is what I told people when they asked me what I was up to. 'In school?' 'Not yet'. Well, the when isn't so mysterious anymore.

I just need to find some batteries to keep me going.

Not Poetry

On Monday night I hung out with some people. I like them and their group, but I have never really been a part of that group. It just never happened. Anyway, we were at starbucks, and they asked me what I was doing. Where I was going. You know, those questions I don't really have answers to. One of them tried to ask me if I 'dream' without making it sound cheesy, but that didn't work. They told me about how, when they involve themselves in what they know they are going to do, it fills them up. Excites them. They become alive. I have a friend, who wasn't there, but he said that to find your purpose, write a list of potentials on a piece of paper until you find one that makes you cry. Something deeply moving.
So, I am keeping my eyes open, and searching for this thing that makes me cry and gives me life and excites me. At the coffee shop, one of the girls were talking about how they have dreams, but that really they are just God's dream that he is sharing with her. That she can only do so much, so when she identifies it as her dream, she limits how far it can go to how far she can go. Somehow, see yourself as part of God's dream. He can take it farther.
If God has a dream for me to participate in, why doesn't He just give it to me? Once, a guy asked us how the relationship between us and God works. How much do we have to put in? How much does God put in? This didn't seem like a crazily important question those years ago. Now it seems more...relevant. I have to go. God, where is my dream? Your dream? Years ago? I'm getting old. What the deuce.