The Drummer

There was a magical drummer
When he played the right beat
The earth would move
Beneath his feet

But when he did
He quickly found
A new beat was needed
To move the ground

So he practiced all day
And he practiced all night
Trying new rhythms
‘Til he got them right

And when it all clicked
The earth would sway
The rivers would sing
The trees would play

But quickly it would end
He’d be feeling blue
So he’d get back to work
With a 1 and a 2...

The Great Lie

    As Christians we are called to discernment and to speak the truth when we see it. With that said:

The dishwasher is a monument to the absurdity of the modern circus we live in. 

If you want to keep the thing functioning properly for any period of time you have to remove the food and rinse your dishes before putting them in—which means you've practically washed them already. People spend nearly the same amount of time scrubbing and scraping without the satisfaction of finishing the job. Or they load lightly used dishes then let wash for an hour what could have taken 15 seconds a piece. The loading, the waiting, the unloading—not to mention the initial cost and the inevitable repairs and replacements. Why does it feel like we are servants of the dishwasher, not the other way around?

    It's hard not to think of Stockholm Syndrome the way people passionately defend this monstrosity whenever I point out how absurd it is to have a machine that covers 10% of the work while taking 300% longer to complete. Consider how a dishwasher works. You cram dishes into a tight box, then hot soapy water is sprayed indiscriminately for an hour (sometimes more). Who could dream up a less efficient way to clean anything than that? Newer dishwashers seem to improve on the design only by getting hotter, spraying harder, and breaking much faster (with much pricier repairs!)

    Last night I washed a whole lot of dishes and here I must give the dishwasher it's due—it made for a great drying rack! My work was slightly more but my sense of well-being was 1000% greater. With proper motivation the act of cleaning can be a beautiful alignment of your mind, body, spirit, and environment with God's will, and who could trade that for anything—especially so little?

Courage Sonnet

That God inspires courage I've no doubt,
For what could be more beautiful than this?
To stand up straight when dark winds blow about,
And swing your sword when reason says you'll miss.

Yet Heaven must be peaceful—this seems true.
So how could courage ever have it's place?
With nothing evil left to stand up to,
will valor be just tossed aside like waste?

But surely God's great land of mystery,
Though hardly could I picture such a sight,
Must overflow, each act, with bravery,
Of greater force than seen in mortal life.

For what's more daring than to live for all?
When safely one could just not to be at all.

The Visitor

Every hundred years a god would fly over a poor desert kingdom. The people didn’t have many resources or food but they spent whatever time they could building glorious monuments to the god to show their love, and hoping to gain his favor. Every family lost loved ones to the effort, through construction accidents and starvation—but they persisted!

Every hundred years, when the god flew overhead, the people saw him reading from a bright stone tablet, never even glancing down to see what the people had built through blood, sweat, and tears.

Many centuries passed and the kingdom struggled but continued to build these magnificent monuments—and every time the god was seen reading his bright stone tablet, without looking up. People still celebrated the occasion—the holiest day—if they were lucky enough to live to see it.

Thousands of years passed with new magnificent monuments that went unnoticed, when a great wise king took power. He was to approve plans for the next monument but instead he threw them all into the fire.

“No more!” He said, and made new plans with his top military men. They would instead build a great cannon. The people were bewildered as decades went on and the meanest of all the monuments was being erected—but they were faithful and loyal, trusting the wise king.

The wise king eventually passed on but a new king faithfully kept on with the secret plans. Finally the day arrived when the god would emerge. All the people were gathering when they saw his glorious figure on the horizon. As in all the ages before, he was reading from that same bright stone tablet.

As he got close, a great burst came from the cannon hurling a massive stone in the gods direction. The god hardly seemed to notice until it made contact with the tablet, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

He bellowed angrily down at the people he never before noticed, and raced down to the ground where they were. He landed on the ground, towering over them, face red with anger, when he noticed the monuments. There were nearly a hundred of them, each more beautiful than the next. His anger softened and he suddenly noticed all of the humble faces looking up at him. Overwhelmed, the god began to cry, tears of heavenly joy. His tears flowed through the land forming deep rivers and lakes and bringing life to everything it touched. The God smiled and flew off, the kingdom now full of plants and animals, rain clouds and rainbows. The people celebrated and feasted.

One hundred years later the God returned, no longer reading anything but smiling and gazing upon the land. The people used their new wealth of resources to build the greatest monument yet and again brought the God to tears, replenishing their great kingdom.

The God was always grateful, for he hadn’t before realized he was a God at all.

Reminder to myself

Jesus Christ is always with us, which means that every moment contains the possibilities of heaven—yet we fuss and fret, walking past gold to pick up a penny.

Find Christ in each moment, the tragic, the joyous, the mundane, the little annoyances—and the songs of heaven, greater than any worldly pleasures, will reach our ears. Just a whisper can change everything. The most unassuming moments can contain the greatest wonders.

A Sonnet

I sit in comfort—bug bites notwithstanding.
I look at both these doors and contemplate.
Why hurry? I need better understanding.
At any time I choose I'll end my wait.

What's that? A creature moving fast towards me?
With snarling teeth and rib cage well defined?
Is now the time I ought to find my hurry?
And run towards the door that's always shined?

No way! I won't be bullied. I won't go!
And if I'm still he'll just be on his way.
And though he's started gnawing at my toes...
It's likely just a snack he wants today.

A little longer, I'll know what to do.
Hey, where's my leg? I thought that I had two!

The Great Mountain

There once was a man who lived on the bottom of the Great Mountain. He heard of great treasure that could be found on the other side. He spent years preparing, thinking of nothing else, and finally made his way up. It was a harrowing journey that took decades, but nothing would stop him. He looked only ahead, with visions of treasure leading the way.

Finally, weathered and worn, the man made his way to the other side. His legs could barely hold him but he stumbled away from the mountain until he found an unlocked iron chest. The man opened it and found a magnificent block of silver! He smiled and wiped a tear from his eye before dropping to his knees. He reached in and picked it up. He was now frail and every joint in his body hurt, but he managed to lift the great object. He sat down with it, gently stroking it in his lap. Slowly, the silver tarnished and disintegrated in his hands. He cried out in horror.

As the silver turned into an ugly dirt in his hands, the man looked back at the Great Mountain and saw that it was made of gold. He wondered how he never noticed before.