January 14, 2013

Words and Fragment Sentences

Tap. Tap tap tap. Click. Tap. Space. 
Again. 
Again. 
Words thrown on blank space. 

Hello reader. 
Whoever you may be.
I have a lot of viewers on this blog. 
More then these words deserve, you can be most assured. 
I write with fragment sentences. 
Poor punctuation. 
I don't know how to use a semi-colon. 

I write words that are read by a few. 
Words that mean more to me than I'm sure they do to anyone else. 
I pour my heart into the tap tap tap and the click click click of this keyboard. 

Tap. Tap tap tap. 
Again, I write.
I was on duty tonight.
This dorm was quiet, the silence broken up by various sounds.
The beep of the fob as students opened the doors. 
The music from a movie playing in the basement.
A laugh.
A cough. 
My own sneezes.
Bracken noises.
Hellos. 
Goodnights.
"Can I have some toilet paper?" 
Oh life. 

Conviction.
Solid, heart changing, conviction.
It began with a $5 bill at church tonight.
Then a story. 
Then a trial.
And now?
Now it ends with words tossed on web space. 
This road that I am running on, it's unpredictable.
I have a lot of unknown variables in my life right now. 

It's not black and white. 
Grey. So grey. 
Or gray. 
Depending on where you're from and all. 
I thought that perhaps, the ducks would line up. 
A nice little row of them. 
First 1, then 2, 3, and followed by 4.
Instead... 3499457208. 
The order is all out of whack.

Jobs. 
Security.
Homes.
Houses.
Africa.
Hours.
Classes.

UNKNOWN. 

Seven letters.
one little word. 
So many things hanging on that thought. 

And then?
Then there comes a bigger thought:

TRUST.

quickly followed by:

FAITHFULNESS. 

I thought that the ducks would be neatly aligned.
Engagement brings a stability to life.
Blake drives me absolutely mad in the craziest sense of the word. 
It's wonderful. 
It's fantastic.
It is anything but predictable.
Life with two requires a little more planning then the vagrant gypsy my heart claims that it is would like to admit.
My wanderlust streak is strangely satisfied to be claimed so resoundingly. 
My point?
There is stability in my life.
As every other color in the surrounding spectrum twirls and blends. 
If a+b=c ...then I have the "c" part figured out, but a+b is getting switched up every other minute.

Attitude changing moments.
As everything else is our lives has been thrown into a blender and turned on high speed...
there is the tiniest part of my heart that giggles.
The smallest corner of my soul whispers, "Isn't this fun?! A challenge!"
Trust. 
Trust in the faithfulness of God as you practice faithfulness to God.

Something about that $5 bill in the offering plate tonight opened my eyes.
My prayer changed.
My heart thirsted for more. 
To be faithful in between the rock and hard place.

While the trip deserves a blog of itself, needless to say I spent 10 days in Costa Rica this Christmas break.
Following Chesney and Luke over and under rocks by a waterfall, far away from the rest of the group...I slipped.
Two rocks.
A drop beneath. 
My leg pinned for a moment.
Deep breath. Twisting motion. 
Freed leg.
And a bump the size of my fist on my shin.
The swelling went down, although it's still there.
And all I can think?
That was a rock and hard place if I have ever seen one.

God is faithful in those moments.
The slip ups. 
The times when our haste to get where we're going results in cuts and bruises.
Wouldn't it be grand if this were the year when I practiced faithfulness in the same radical way?

Click click click. Tap. Tap tap tap. 
Words.
Letters.
Too many fragments.
My story.
Messy.
Bruised.
Faithful.
Why shouldn't it be grey and grayer?
Black and white is basic.
Fine tuned.
Predictable.
Why shouldn't there be changing variables?
I've always loved adventure.
Why  not in the real game of life?

I can skydive.
I can zipline.
I can parasail over the Pacific Ocean.
Those are all adventures that I've looked for and have found.
But what about this one?
The unsureness.
The nerves.
The unpredictability. 
Isn't that the best sort of adventure?
The unknown type.

Tap. Tap tap tap.
Words on paper. 
And the night grows late and my eyes slip shut.
Words.
Just words.

With a smidgen of pure honesty to wrap them up nicely.