The Wall

Here I stand
Shortly after hitting
this solid brick wall,
the one I saw from a mile off,
the one I knew I would reach,
yet still I ran headlong
into this indomitable barrier.
As I stagger from the impact,
my heart wants desperately
to escape from the cage of my chest.
I knew I would arrive here,
yet now that I find myself here,
I have no idea what to do
or who to be.
And now that I’ve hit this wall
toward which I’ve been sprinting,
all of the emotions catch up to me.
I miss the faces, the smiles.
I miss the laughter and tickling.
I miss the feeling of hope and understanding
I miss the love.
I wish I could go back for a hug.
I wish I knew what they were doing.
I wish I hadn’t walked away so easily.
I wish that I was still doing something
to make the world a better place.
As I stand at the wall,
I swallow my regrets,
for I have faith
that I have chosen the right path
and that someday
I will find a place like that again.
So until then,
I stand at the wall,
let these emotions roll over me,
and wait until the time is right
to walk around
and press on.

SCRAPBOOK!!!

Here it is, hot off the presses!

JVC Mobile!

Countdown to scrapbook

Senior Year!

Check back tomorrow to see my finished product from my JV year. I am really excited about it.

Countdown to scrapbook

Junior Year!

Countdown to scrapbook

Sophomore Year!

Countdown to scrapook

I've been dedicating a good amount of my time during this week to working on my scrapbook of the past year. I decided I wanted to share the end result, of course, but also thought I could share some highlights of previous scrapbooks. We're just going to ignore the once I made in high school, because they are bad. So we're going to start with freshman year of college and work our way up to the grand unveiling!

Here is...

Freshman Year

I will say goodbye

I will say goodbye
To late nights on the sofa
Throwing Scrabble tiles at each other.
I will say goodbye
To spontaneous, indescribable adventures
Like a trip to the go-kart track.
I will say goodbye
To a table with seven chairs
And the bread we broke together.
I will say goodbye
To the voice of Marky-Mark
And to the sound of Disney movies.
I will say goodbye
To a ridiculous laugh
And the sense of solidarity.
I will say goodbye
To the smell of incense
And the uncertainty of eggshells.
I will say goodbye
To the strangers who became family,
To the home that changed my heart.
I will say goodbye
To the best hugs ever
And the unbridled, unhesitating love.
I will say goodbye
To kisses on the cheek
And tickling fingers on my waist.
I will say goodbye
To catchphrases and stutters,
To fears and frustrations and tears.
I will say goodbye
To the ones who gave me hope,
The ones who might forget me.
I will say goodbye
To the person I was before, so that
I might embrace the person I am now.
I will say goodbye
To the unforgettable moments
And the moments that slipped by too easily.
I will say goodbye
But I will say hello
To a new and wonderful adventure,
To all the possibility that life holds,
And to the person I will become
Thanks to the ones I say goodbye to.

I Find Delight

Like the warmth of the afternoon sun
On a day in the middle of spring,
A moment of delight lights my face
And refreshes the depths of my soul.
I find delight in a rib-cracking hug
That speaks volumes about love.
I find delight in the honesty of a friend
Though the words may be difficult to hear.
I find delight in a fulfilling conversation
With someone who was recently a stranger.
I find delight in feeling useful,
In knowing that I created a smile.
I find delight in a moment of self-reflection
What I am able to see how far I have come.
I find delight in love, in hope, and in joy.
I find delight in a peace that calms my heart,
And I find delight in you.

For Justin

For Justin, my friend who is a founding assistant at L'Arche St. Louis: “The first duty of love is to listen.” -Paul Tillich

Read about Justin's awesome insights and experiences here!

Incarnate

God remains incarnate,
Not just in a Man in sandals
Walking a dusty road to Emmaus,
But in a boy in Air Jordans
Strolling the slum with a smile.
God remains incarnate,
Not just in a Healer
Working miracles through His garments,
But in a nurse who offers warmth
All through the night shift.
God remains incarnate,
Not just in a Child
Speaking wisdom in a temple,
But in a person with Downs Syndrome
Revealing the meaning of life with a hug.
God remains incarnate,
Not just in a Savior
Laying down His life for the hearts of all,
But in the idealist who gives up everything
To offer hope and peace to the world.
God remains incarnate
Both in our Messiah
Who ascended to glory,
And in each of us
In the love we share every day.

For Sheila and Sarah

For Sheila: "It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves." - Edmund Hillary

For Sarah Y: “Don’t try to hold God’s hand; let Him hold yours. Let Him do the holding, and you the trusting.” –Hammer William Webb-Peploe

Numb

I do not want to be numb,
For if I am numb, I cannot be open to love.
If I am numb, I cannot feel the pain of another.
If I am numb, I cannot reach out to heal a wound.

I do not want to be bitter,
For if I am bitter, I cannot speak words of hope.
If I am bitter, I cannot see the good in all.
If I am bitter, I cannot learn to forgive.

I do not want to be judgmental,
For if I am judgmental, I cannot embrace the least of these.
If I am judgmental, I cannot find beauty in the unexpected.
If I am judgmental, I cannot learn from hidden teachers.

I do not want to be prideful,
For if I am prideful, I cannot accept my weakness.
If I am prideful, I cannot truly grow.
If I am prideful, I cannot have a humble heart.

I want to be emboldened,
For if I am emboldened, I can discover joy in any situation.
If I am emboldened, I can be at peace.
If I am emboldened, I can love without hesitation.

For Kelly and Morgan

For Kelly: “May we who eat be bread for others. May we who drink pour out our love.” -Bernadette Farrell

For Morgan: “If you don't risk anything, you risk even more." -Erica Jong

Prisoner

I am a prisoner—one who requires neither chains nor bars.
I am a prisoner of the fear that I am not good enough.
I am a prisoner of a pride that mercilessly binds me.
I am a prisoner of moodiness and inconsistency.
I am a prisoner of the need to be right.
I am a prisoner of my denial of my close-mindedness.
I am a prisoner of all those whose opinions harm me.
I am a prisoner of wild, thoughtless impulses.
I am a prisoner of my predicted defeat.
I am a prisoner of a complex hierarchy of relationships.
I am a prisoner of unnameable emotions.
I am a prisoner of my own hesitation.
I am prisoner of overwhelming hypocrisy.
I am a prisoner of a bitterness that binds me.
I am a prisoner of my past and my future.
But one day, I will break these chains.
One day, I will be free of this cell
in order to bind myself to this—
becoming a prisoner of love;
becoming one who is tied forever
to every other person, regardless of status.
Someday, my shackles will fall,
and I will stand—a prisoner of love.

I walk on by

He is homeless.
He struggles, by himself,
To muscle a car tire
Into a wheelbarrow—his only possession.
Time and again,
Using varying strategies,
He tries and fails.
I sit at the intersection
Thinking that I could help.
That I should help.
But I drive on by.

He is homeless.
The rain pounds on his
Grey hair and hunched shoulders
He stands in the right lane,
Right thumb halfheartedly up,
Knowing he will not get a ride.
I sit, dry and content,
Thinking that I could help.
That I should help.
But I drive on by.

He is homeless.
He trudges into the restaurant
Just looking for a restroom.
He tries to buy a drink
To be allowed to use their facilities.
They refuse him
And hurry him to the door
For fear of a stench or a scene.
I sit with friends, cup in hand,
Thinking that I could help.
That I should help.
But I let him walk on by.

He is homeless,
With defeat in his eyes
And not a friends
To pass the time.
For I have rejected him,
Betrayed him, crucified him.
All the while, denying my role
Just thinking that I could help.
That I should help.
But I walk on by.

For Sarah and Colleen

For Sarah, who used to be my roommate and who just graduated from SLU and got engaged: “I shall pass through this world but once. If therefore there can be any kindness I can show or any good thing I can do, let me do it now; let me not defer it or neglect it.” -Étienne de Grellet

For Colleen, my brilliant cousin who just graduated from high school: "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined."-Henry David Thoreau

Unknowing Revolutionary

A man asks, “Is that blue?”
Before reaching into a pile of
Colorful foam letters and numbers.
He chooses an eight,
Tosses it into the plastic bin,
And announces “I did it!”
This man holds my heart.

A man asks, “Is that blue?”
When he picks up a crayon.
He leans over his paper
And creates concentrated circles
Here and there
And announces “I did it!”
This man holds my heart.

A man asks, “Is that blue?”
Then angrily shouts
“I don’t want it,”
When circumstances shift a bit.
He lashes out with an open hand
And announces, “I did it!”
This man hold my heart.

A man asks, “Is that blue?”
I tell him yes
And wrap my arms around him.
His refrain: “I love you.”
Then he announces “I did it!”
This man holds my heart.

Pride

Pride is the idol for which I strive.
It is the flirtatious seducer.
It is the deceitful, dangerous song of my heart.
My ego is the altar I build to myself.
It is the foundation of every selfish thought.
It is the brilliant light to which I am drawn.
My reputation is the end of all my decisions.
It is the cloth I don each day.
It is the apple of my conceited eye.
I pound my face into the dirt,
begging for gentle humility.
I reach my hands heavenward,
laying down my egotism before a God of Love.
My pride has led to selfishness,
so I discard it to become a servant.
My pride has led to anger,
so I discard it to become a lamb.
My pride has led to despair,
so I discard it to become a dreamer—
I dream of growth, peacefulness, gentleness.
I dream of unhesitating love.

They Are My Rock

My balding friend with the mischievous grin
Could yank his head away or kiss my chin.
The lady who would make puzzles all day long
Might come in scowling or snapping with the song.
The lover with “Sweetheart” forever on her lips
Could instead pout in her chair with hands on hips.
The artist who teases me and pokes at my side
Might ignore me, or mumble and grumble, or cry.
The schoolboy who loves to scheme, hide, and chase
Could raise a fist or slam a door in my face.
The giggler who picks flowers whenever they appear
Sometimes calls me a name my ears cringe to hear.
Moody and unpredictable as these friends may be,
They steady my world, like roots on a tree.
They are my rock, the foundation of my world.
As with spring petals, these friendships have unfurled,
Revealing to me a love deep and wide
These rocks keep me on land, regardless of the tide.

For Kyle and Heather

For Kyle, my big bro: "A different world cannot be built by indifferent people." –Horace Mann

For Heather: “A joyful spirit is evidence of a grateful heart.” – Maya Angelou

Faith.

I have faith that when I feel lost, I am truly finding my way.
I have faith that each time I give away a piece of myself, I gain a piece of another.
I have faith that for each moment of pain, there will be one of inexpressible joy.
I have faith that when today is difficult, I am learning something that will give me strength for tomorrow.
I have faith that every time my heart is broken, I grow stronger.
I have faith that though I may be brought down, I can bring myself back up.
I have faith that when I help someone, it can set off a chain reaction of generosity.
I have faith that all of eternity makes sense, even when this moment doesn’t.
I have faith that I can make things work for the good, though others may not.
I have faith that forgiveness is possible, even when the wounds are deep.
I have faith that faith will be enough, though I stumble and wander.
I have faith that faith will be enough.

Tennis Ball

I sit by the river for some time.
I see twigs, logs, and leaves roll past,
and also a tennis ball—
brown, waterlogged, mysterious.
When did it find its way to this river,
and where was its origin?
It has been traveling hundreds of miles,
many days and nights,
refusing to be caught up along
a bend or a bank.
It has seen one hundred and twelve houses and nineteen shacks.
It has seen at least a dozen swimming pools
and twice as many motor boats.
It has been brushed by two swimmers
and observed by forty-one sets of eyes
Forty-two with mine.
And I wonder:
if I waded into the water to join it,
what would I see?
What would see me?

Pottery

Today's craft comes with a history lesson:

Across Mobile Bay there used to be three kilns, built in the 1800s. They were located directly on the beach next to three natural cold springs, near the towns of Fairhope and Daphne. There was a conveyor belt from each kiln that ran directly to boats that would take the wares away to be sold. In 1960, a hurricane completely destroyed the kilns.
Today, along the beach where the kilns were located, pieces of pottery still collect along the shore shore. Our friend, Sean, was kind enough to show us the location of this treasure trove, and one night we made good use of headlamps as we collected a good number of pieces.
And so I bring you this:

The frame is from a local thrift store, and the colored stones are from the dollar store. The pottery is obviously the remnants of what was in the kilns when they were destroyed.

Now is the time

Now is not the time to dwell.
It is not the time to hold grudges, to exude bitterness, to clutch regret.
It is not the time to fear.
No.
It is a time to journey forth.
It is a time to renew, reflect, rejoice.
It is a time to energize, to analyze, to compromise, to prioritize, to improvise, to conceptualize, to recognize.
It is a time to dive in without hesitations, to swim against the current, to breathe beneath the surface.
It is a time to dream of possibility.
It is a time to listen to the soul.
It is a time to sit and know, a time to stand and step out.
It is a time to embrace life and to question assumptions.
It is a time to draw from what is important and to cast aside all that pulls us away.
It is a time for faith, peace, contemplations.
It is a time for understanding and growing.
It is a time for love.
It is a love that I cannot comprehend.

A Letter to my Past, Current, and Future Self, and All Those Like Me:

First, stand tall.
Do not stoop as if
bending under the weight
of bricks, or troubles, or
the world itself.
No—straighten your legs,
weary as they may be
from your glorious, uncertain travels.
Straighten your back,
hunched as it might have become
over the course of years and miles.
Straighten your neck,
though it wants to lean forward
for it carries the burden
of all you have seen and heard
and of all you have learned—
ten million lessons in all.
Stand tall.
Now look out, at all of
the unfathomable possibility.
Yes, you may see hardships
waiting up ahead,
and yes, you may see mountains
with cliffs too steep to tackle.
But look out, and know
that you will make it; you will survive.
As you look out
at all there is,
also look up
at all there might be.
Look up toward the heavens;
dare to dream of beauty.
Let your mind not be limited
by where you have traveled,
what you have seen,
who you have been.
Instead, embrace the possible.
Don’t be weighed down by stones of the past,
but let each of those ten million lessons
become a foothold for your journey.
How much you have learned!—
and yet.
How much you will learn
with the next breath you take
and the next dream you dream.
Stand tall,
Look out,
Look up.
And live.

A Thing of Value

When we first touch a thing of value—
A glass, a mirror, a jewel, a flower—
We are careful, gentle, hesitant.
We fear we might drop it break it;
We worry we will cause it harm
And it will lose its value.
But over time, as we handle it more,
As we recognize its strengths,
We feel freer to touch
With less care, less fear.
Over time we become confident
In the durability of this good
And we find some small joy
In no longer feeling the need to fret.
Until the day when our confidence
Somehow becomes overconfidence
And our overconfidence
Somehow becomes recklessness.
We break what was once durable,
What was once fragile.
And we lose this thing of value.
So, too, it seems, with our friendships.
So, too, it seems, with our hearts.

For Kate and Judy and Van

For Kate:
“I am seeking.
I am striving.
I am in it with all my heart.”
-Vincent van Gogh

For my aunt, Judy, and my uncle, Van: "Sometimes we speak out to try to change the world, and other times we speak to try to keep the world from changing us." –Shane Claiborne

Wanting Nothing More

I want nothing more than this moment.
I want nothing more than this day.
I want nothing more than this:
the rays of hesitant sun on my back,
reminding me of the warmth of unencumbered joy;
the sound of waves greeting the shore,
bringing to mind the glorious beating of my heart;
the call of a gull despite the wind,
signifying that I, too, have a voice;
the fog, blocking my vision,
lest I forget how small I really am;
the friend sitting beside me,
showing me that I am never alone;
the stranger meandering by and by,
to shed light on all those I have yet to meet;
and the sand rising up between my toes,
reminding me that there is a time for everything,
even a time to be still.
How could I want more than this,
when it is by these shadows
that I know that I am truly alive
and that all things in life have meaning?