Brief

I can't sleep.


Tonight, I was taking Jordan to basketball practice and Promise rode along. We heard a brief piece of a story, on the radio, about this girl (they didn't say her age) whose father had cancer. Promise INSISTED that we pray immediately. She leaned forward, took my hand and said, "Pray Daddy, please!" It really got to me. I mean, I'm a very emotional person anyway. (Which some times I think is my greatest fault...sometimes I think it's my greatest strength.) But I couldn't stop crying.


Thinking about all this family was going through. The fear, the pain, the bills, the questions, the frustrations, the trying to have faith...coupled with questioning why a loving God would let this happen. (I do not have answers.) But mostly thinking about how brief everything really is.


Brief.


I can't sleep.


Maybe I can't sleep because I almost feel like life is too brief too sleep. (I understand the stupidity in that...we wouldn't live long if we didn't balance out life with rest.)


Here was this nameless family...somewhere on this planet. I don't know their names, their birthdays or how they take their coffee. They are a world away from me and their world is falling apart.


I bet I know what they're hoping for: more time. (I mean, death is inevitable...but if we could just have a little more time.) That's what I wish I had with my dad. Just some more time.


Time to stand in a run-down convenience store in the bad part of town, just because their Diet Cokes were colder than any other store's.


Time to listen to him complain about my mom.


Time to watch hear him call Jordan "Boliver."


Time to hear him say of Promise, "She's my heart."


Time to talk about stuff that means nothing.


That would mean everything.


But I don't have that time anymore.


It is gone. I will never, ever have a chance to kiss his bald head and spend time with him again. Ever. (For the sake of those of you who are going to start talking about Heaven and the Sweet-by-and-by...I know. And it's really not any comfort.)


Anyway.


Brief.


This past weekend, I cried with some of my best friends in the world, as we remembered and celebrated the life of their husband, Daddy, Daddy Tommy.


I saw a chapter close.


Less than twenty-four hours later, I cried with some of my other best friends in the world, as they celebrated their beautiful daughter changing her last name to the name of the man she loves.


I saw a chapter close.


One day I was watching people walk out of a funeral home chapel.


The next night I watched a graffiti-ed car drive away from a reception.


I saw life change.


Brief.


I guess what I'm saying is...we only have so many chances. And one day, in some way, those chances are gone.


Forever.


Sometimes it's a celebration where entire families dance with no inhibition.


Sometimes it's in tears, where a family can barely find the strength to walk out of a room.


Sometimes there are (in our eyes) irreconcilable differences and we just walk away.


Sometimes the kids get a job and move away.


Sometimes they get a car and drive away.


Sometimes people leave your church.


Sometimes people quit calling you to hang out.


Sometimes high school is over.


Sometimes everyone gets mad.


Sometimes you just never get to see each other again.


Sometimes there is no more time.


Because, life is brief.


Brief.


And, while we can't go back in time and change things.


And, while we can't go into the future and change things.


We can go into the NOW and change things.


Now is when we can have more time.


If we don't know how much more time we're going to have with people, let's make the absolute most out of the time we do have.


Call someone today.


Text someone today.


Apologize...right now.


Forgive...even earlier.


Kiss your wife like you're afraid of getting caught.


Give your child money for something ridiculous.


Stay home from work.


Hold hands on the sofa.


Turn off the TV.


Answer their call.


Call them first.


Drive across the state for a hot dog. (My dad did this one.)


Sit in the floor.


Let them braid your hair.


Wear a feather boa.


Ask yourself, "Is this really worth getting mad about?"


Pour out your love for that friend or family member who hasn't heard it in a while.


Speak to someone you've been avoiding.


GRAB EVERY SECOND OF LIFE YOU CAN...RIGHT NOW!


Show every bit of love you can...right now!


What is more important than the relationships we have...and the relationships we'll lose?


The chapters of life keep changing all the time.


Some chapters are thrilling adventures...some chapters are painfully tragic.


I know this wasn't an eloquently worded masterpiece...it's two o'clock and I can't sleep.


But...we don't know how much more time we're going to have with people, let's make the absolute most out of the time we do have.


Because life is brief.


Brief.

Boomeranging Slingshots: the enemy of change.

(I'll apologize in advance for any typos here. This was happening pretty fast and I was tired when I was through. If I feel like it later, I'll fix them.)

Boomeranging Slingshots.

Smoke drifts low through the camp as soldiers cower and cry. Their strong bodies melted to quivering slugs in corners of irreverent hiding.

And here I stand, alone. An unproven warrior undoubtedly ready for war. Too young for such resolve, too determined to be retreated. And I stand alone.

Over the fearful whimpers of those much more prepared, I hear the taunts scream up the hillside begging me for battle!

And, I will give him what he wants! I will bring the fight to him and I will do this my way. How dare he defy my righteous cause! How dare he threaten the steady course my God has set before me! Even alone, I'm never alone and I will not let the cause of my nation or God be defeated by the likes of this.

Somewhere in the surge of confidence and adrenaline, the volume of my pounding heart fades both the instigating insults of my enemy and the unsolicited advise of my commanding officer.

The only ends of defeat are found in the means of moving...moving forward.

I must meet this enemy.

There is no victory to be had hiding in tents. No advance in simply maintaining ground. Staying in the camp is simply defeat, delayed.

I must meet this enemy.

I feel the eyes boring into my flesh as I begin my march to battle. Some behold the image of a champion...some see only a fool.

I've heard the legends of my imposing combatant. I've been told of his tactics and schemes...and OBVIOUS exaggerations of immense stature.

"Surely this was their intimidated perception," I reassured myself, as my fingers subconsciously slid across my handful of absurd ammunition.

But as I walked into the valley and lifted my head to the sound of thunderous laughter...I am found myself proven wrong. My estimations were obviously dead wrong.

In the much-too-near distance I saw a figure I could not fathom. Legend had come to life and was bellowing of my merciless death and defeat.

Fear brought bile to surface in my mouth as I tried desperately to remember my just cause for being in that valley.

That was not the hungry lion that sought my father's sheep. That was not a bear seeking food.

That was not the enemy of my charge.

That was my enemy.

Providential destiny brought me here, and now all I wanted to do wass run. To run from my enemy.

"I will rip you to shreds and feed you to dogs!" His threats were a task well within the abilities of my giant enemy.

My enemy.

Although in appearance superhuman, the figure that stood before was, in reality, human.

Purpose was slowly rolling across my mind and, with it, a recalling of past victories.

Courage flooded my brain's surface, bringing clarity and focus to my thoughts.

Clarity brought something different.

Just below the gravelly surface of his insolence, I detected a more frightening sound, similarity.

Almost telescopically, through heavy head protection...I recognized eyes.

I know this person.

He was my enemy. In arrogant self-assurance, he was insuring utter failure. He boastfully recounted every disadvantage I embodied. The sole purpose of his existence in this moment was to seal my defeat.

Anti.

My enemy was "anti" every good thing for which I was ready to do battle. He was against my future, my dreams, my hope, my destiny. He stood in stark and rebellious defiance to everything God had intended for my life.

He was my enemy.

And standing in the shadow of his hulking existence I realized my most terrifying thought.

I knew him.

More intimately than my knowledge of any other man, I knew this man.

Louder and louder, more vehemently he shouted...insult after insult.

Each one striking my heart with more fear and dread than could ever be known by the sword in his massive scabbard. The intensity and heat of every hissing word pierced my unarmored chest.

And every word more convincing than the last.

Salty tears stung my eyes and blurred my vision as the doom of impending defeat drowned my soul with every oppressive indictment.

No! I entered this valley with purpose, resolve.

I will not shrink back.

I had to beat this man I knew.

But not just a man I knew.

No.

A man I created.

A giant.

An enemy.

My creation.

He could not win.

The familiar straps of leather in my right hand separated almost instinctively as my left hand slipped silently into my pouch. Almost without thought a seemingly-impotent stone fell evenly into my sling.

And with it, a battle-cry began to build from some place deep within...some place where soul, spirit and flesh mix in unity.

As that sonic bedlam burst forward from my lungs, somehow time and space ceased their movement.

My arm began to spin forward as my bare feet moved swiftly across the valley's rocky floor. At full speed I ran toward the giant I knew so well!

Spinning my sling over and over and over and over and then...release! This smooth projectile rocketed forward with blinding speed as the giant's insulting laughter still sounded out...then suddenly ended.

Seconds took hours to pass as the now silent giant stood stunned.

My running never stopped and, just as I reached my self-created nemesis, he fell.

As quickly as his lifeless body shook the earth, I removed the sword from his side and the vain protection from the giant's head.

With a surge of strength beyond my own, I lifted the sword high and swiftly brought it down.

I brought finality to my enemy's fatality.

This giant who stood to bring failure to all of who I was.

This giant who stood to prevent all that I could be.

This enemy that I created.

This enemy that I knew.

Was me.


We've all heard this story before. The ancient legend of overcoming insurmountable odds. We have translated this story to football teams, struggling bands and family businesses.
The untrained David defending future and hope...the licentious giant intimidating us with threats and size.
My greatest desire is that the world would change. I call it my Crazy Idea. When everyone else is writing off the world and reading it's eulogy, I see hope. And I see that hope being realized through love.
I want things to change. But before I can change things for others, I need to change me. There's so much about me that is not where or what it should be...and I need me to change.
But there is an enemy to change. There is an enemy to the life I need to live. There is an enemy to the world changing. There is an enemy to my Crazy Idea.
In tears I confess...that enemy is ME! It is the giant I have created physically, emotionally, relationally, financially.
Just like Goliath stood and cursed everything righteous, just like Goliath threatened the plan of God in that valley...he stands here now, bellowing the same insults and threats. And he is simply me.
The great hope is this: THAT ENEMY CAN DIE!!!
Not me literally, but all the things about me that fight against what I was created to be.
And not you literally, but all those things that fight against what you were created to be.
As you and I kill our giants, we can not only change ourselves, but WE ARE INDEED CHANGING THE WORLD!
Who will join me?
Who will identify their own personal giant?
Who will refuse to stand paralyzed with fear at that giant's taunts?
LET'S DO THIS!

In a love I can't articulate,
Ollie Horne, a giant slayer.

Nekros: "an intersection of a King's kid brother and a song by the King," or "Imbalance is killing us."

You probably shouldn't read this.

For quite some time I've been disturbed by a word a King's little brother used. He probably used a Greek word, nekros.

Nekros.

He was talking about a place of imbalance. A place where fat kids sit lazily with eyes glazed over...staring at a life they wish they had and never having it.

Nekros.

And I think about the wisdom of the King's song.

A song about closed mouths and active bodies.

You probably shouldn't read this.

We're those fat kids.

We're in that state of Nekros.

You probably shouldn't read this.

So the King's little brother was a man named James.

And he was writing to everyone.

James was talking about "faith without action." He said this...having faith but not having any action...is nekros. NEKROS!

Can you believe the audacity of this heretic? He has the nerve to write this sentence write there in the bible.

"In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead."

A lot of people think this is Jesus little brother...the King's kid brother.

And the King's kid brother said your faith is nekros.

Nekros.

Dead.

The same bible that talks about faith. The same bible that teaches us to be people of faith...says our faith is dead.

You probably shouldn't read this.

You probably should go find a book for $19.95 that gives the 10 Secrets of a Faith-filled Life, and read that instead.

Nekros.

Jesus' little brother said your faith is dead.

He said it's destitute of force.

Useless.

The King's little brother said if you're not adding action to your faith...your faith is nekros.

And nekros means dead.

Interestingly enough, this is just after the same man said something about religion (acts of religious worship) that God accepts as pure acts of worship are caring for widows and orphans.

And right after he said we shouldn't just read the word...but we should also do what it says.

Do what it says.

This makes me think of a song of the King.

Well, actually Mac and Billy wrote the song, but they wrote the song for the King to sing and he did.

It was song about the doing more than just talking.

A song about living rather than just being philosophical.

So here's where I talk about our imbalance.

We are great at studying.

We are great at quoting.

We are great at singing.

We underline and discuss, we contemplate, meditate and memorize.

We pray these words and dissect them.

We preach about them.

We hold them up in bleacher seats and protest lines.

But do we do them?

Nekros.

You probably shouldn't read this.

We should all have PhD's, we've read and studied so much.

We talk about the immorality of those who commit...but we don't talk about the immorality of us who omit.

We don't really do the words we study.

The words we say are truth.

The words we say we believe.

Which makes us fat kids playing video games featuring other people who aren't.

We eat and eat and eat and eat...but rarely ever exercise what we've eaten.

How many people have been in a bible study group?

Now, how many people have been in a bible DOING group?

How many of us sing songs declaring our love for our King?

Now, how many of us go out and physically show love to our King?

Elvis, the King, sang a song Mac and Billy wrote. The song: "A Little Less Conversation." I have this sneaky feeling he was probably singing about something else...but I keep wondering how frustrated the other King could possibly be. As he sings over us "A little less conversation, a little more action, please! All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me."

I'm not saying the studying, discussing, reading, memorizing and quoting are wrong. In fact, how could I have written this absent of those disciplines?

The problem is we have this incredible imbalance.

We read about what to do...and don't.

The result?

Nekros.

And our state of nekros is suffered not only by us.

Lent Manifesto

Familiar with Lent?
Unless you’ve been involved with the Catholic Church, Eastern Orthodox Churches or Protestant denominations such as the United Methodist Church or Lutherans, you may not be familiar with the whole concept of the Lent Season.
And if you have been involved with these groups, there’s a slight possibility that the season of Lent you’ve known all these years was just another in the long litany of religious activities that consumed your mind and time.
To some of you, “lint” is just the fuzz in your belly button…to others of you; Lent is about equally as relevant to your life, as belly button fuzz.
But what if that was different?
What if it was all so different!?
Lent: The Back-Story
So a quick back-story on the whole Lent thing.
Lent is a season of religious ritual, usually starting with Ash Wednesday* and lasting 46 days until Easter Sunday.
Forty-six (but it’s really only 40-days, because Sundays don’t count. Those are “mini-Easters” and are days to celebrate.) days of fasting from something, anything, to show your sorrow for the condition of the world and to prepare your heart for Resurrection.
The fast is a sort of penitence for not only our wrongdoing but also the wrongdoing of the whole world.
Fasting.
In the tradition of Lent, people “give up” something for Lent, a form of fasting. People give up chocolate, booze, TV, movies, eating out (or eating altogether), or whatever they choose. During Lent, people find something they will “give up” for the Lent Season to show their sorrow.
So, this is Lent.

But what if we gave up something different?
I’ve found, in my life, that fasting has been a very beneficial discipline. I’ve fasted several times and it’s been a very rewarding experience. But therein lies the problem: fasting has always seemed to be beneficial only for me…and actually increased my focus on myself.
When I fast, I seem to inevitably focus primarily on ME, and the thing I’m giving up. Fasting from food is a constant reminder that I’m not eating food. Everywhere I turn there’s food that I can’t eat.
As rewarding as fasting is, it seems only rewarding for me.
(Now, I do believe we have to be the best “us” we can be, which sometimes requires some seemingly selfish self-focus. We must provide ourselves with proper nutrition, education, exercise and rest.)
But self-focus, sometimes turns to self-centeredness, which is often what rears its ugly head during my times of fasting.
So, how can we turn Lent, a season of fasting, into something that turns our focus outward. Outward to something beneficial to society…outward to humanity?
Not everyone reading this would consider himself or herself to be a “Christian” or even religious, for that matter. But, if you are a person who believes, or even regards the words of scripture in the “Bible” you may find some of this interesting.
An ancient prophet named Isaiah addressed the issue of fasting. (We labeled the address as being Isaiah 58.)
“Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter-when you see the naked, to clothe him, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?”
WHAT THE WHAT?!?! This is INSANE!
It’s almost as though this dude is suggesting that fasting is about reaching out to show love to others, rather than focus in on our self.
So, if you’re one of the people who believe in the Bible as being the word of God, then you’ve got to believe that what God wants for his followers, is to reach out and meet the needs of others.
But, wait…there’s more!
Several hundred years later, a guy named James wrote something else (And by the way, lots of smart people believe this guy is Jesus’ kid brother.):
“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”
(Hint: the word “religion” here isn’t religion as in a “belief system,” but religion as in “an act of worship.”)
It’s almost (well, it actually IS) as though James was saying that worship is really more about serving the needs of others than it is about the songs we sing and the prayers we recite.
Again, INSANITY! (We call this tone sarcasm.)
So, um…Lent. Giving something up for Lent, right?
Here’s my proposal for this Lent…my manifesto…my thesis I’m nailing to the door of whatever religious establishment each of us follow.
What if we gave up our SELF for Lent?
What if we turned our focus this Lent season from the “thing” we’re doing without to all those everywhere whose whole life is “doing without”?
To put it a little more plainly: my idea is that we dedicate ourselves this Lent season to giving ourselves up…that we would spend this Lent season serving the needs of others.
MAKE A DENT THIS LENT!
I know this is a cheesy little rhyme. But what if…what if we could?
What if during this Lent, instead of focusing on ourselves and what we’re giving up…what if we could have a positive effect on the world and the people that fill it?
The dents.
Have you ever been to an art gallery and seen some beautiful sculpture? I don’t know much about the art of sculpting stone, but word on the street is, the way these artists work is by making thousands and thousands of tiny dents in the stone. Chiseling away at the stone until the beauty of the inner sculpture is revealed.
From what I understand, these artists don’t grab a slab of stone, give it one giant whack, and then wheel their masterpiece into an art gallery.
I think we can do this. I think each of us can make one of these tiny dents in the stone. If thousands of us would make a little dent, maybe we could change things. Maybe we could create something beautiful…
I’ve got a couple tattoos. I love my tattoos because their meanings are very significant to me.
My first tattoo is the summation of what I describe as my “Crazy Idea.”
It’s simple…nothing elaborate.
It’s just an image of planet Earth, sculpted into a misshaped heart.
This tattoo is my constant reminder that love can change the world.
Love.
Want to change the world?
Give love.
Give up your SELF.
Give LOVE.
I know I’m crazy!
I know I’m simple-minded.
I’ve freaking ADMITTED all this!!
But what if, just what if it works?
What if this Lent was just a prelude of what we could do in the glorious light of Resurrection?
Who do I give myself up to?
This is where it gets a little bit subjective…a little relative to YOU!
I certainly don’t think we should all jump on the same bandwagon.
My dream is not that thousands of people could come together and focus on the same need, the same issue.
My dream is that thousands of people would find thousands of things to focus on. You’d be amazed at how life changing your one little voice and action could be.
So whom do you help?
I have two suggestions:
Suggestion 1: help whomever it is you have the most passion to help! Maybe you’ve got a real passion for helping the homeless, or special needs kids, or single moms, or people in Third-World countries, or maybe even .
Go help them! Find an organization you could with which you can volunteer, give money to their funds, whatever. Help them!
Suggestion 2: help whomever you think deserves help least!
Jesus once told this story to religious people about how he was hungry, naked, sick, in prison, etc. and no one helped him.
The religious people asked when he had been in these conditions and been helped.
Jesus said, “When you did these things to the LEAST OF THESE my brothers, you did this to me.”
Who are your “least of these?” Who do you see as being the least worthy of help?
GO HELP THEM!
You can do a mission trip; volunteer at a shelter/organization, whatever…my only encouragement is that you do your reaching out throughout the entire Lent Season. Not just a one time thing, or a once a week thing, no I encourage you to give yourself up for FORTY DAYS (take Sundays, or whatever day you choose, to rest and celebrate…recharge your batteries!)
PLAN NOW!
If you’re going to give yourself up for Lent, you need to start planning now.
Now, December 9th. Before you even get through with Christmas.
My friend Josh, keeps reminding me AdVENT is not even over…and I’m pushing LENT!
You need to figure out whom you’re going to help.
You need to figure out how you can AFFORD to help!
You need to figure out how you can help people, while not deserting your family and friends.
You need to figure it out…you need to plan now.
You’ve got four months to get all this figured out…start now!
Lent starts in four months.
Beauty for Ashes
*Lent begins, in most traditions on Ash Wednesday, which is March 9th, 2011 this year.
Ash Wednesday.
On this date, in tradition, Lent-ees attend a special church service in which a “sign of the cross” is placed on their heads with ashes.
Ashes are ugly.
Placing ashes on one’s forehead is ancient symbolic gesture showing one’s sorrow.
That same guy, Isaiah, also wrote this thing about how ashes would be exchanged for beauty.
Doesn’t that sound like an amazing thing? We give ashes and the pay back is something beautiful?
Can you imagine how beautiful it would be, if beginning Ash Wednesday, we all reached out and shared LOVE with those around us (or around the world from us!)
There’s a word for that shared love: BEAUTIFUL.
Commit.
Now, I’m going to ask you to do the most difficult part.
Commit.
Commit to searching yourself and finding the way you can give your SELF up for Lent.
Part of my “Crazy Idea” is this: we can take what may be an irrelevant religious observance…or something you’ve never heard of…and do something beautiful to make a DENT THIS LENT.

You’re Not Invisible To Me

Maybe it’s my simplicity,

Or could it be my insanity?

But you’re not invisible to me.

I hear your whisper in the Mediterranean Sea breeze as it cools my skin,

And your passion in the same-named sun that brings the heat again.

I see your power in the crashing waves, your ravishing ways.

Rolling over my mind, my heart—my eyes see you.

I don’t see the dogma that curls the fists of nations

I don’t feel the frustration.

I don’t see the exclusivity of political partisan fight.

I don’t see Left; I don’t see Right.

I don’t see the chapters and verses.

I don’t hear exclamations of curses.

I don’t see my way is better than what you believe.

But I see you—

Plain and simple—

Glorious and complex—

Multi-dimensionally BEAUTIFUL!

You’re not invisible to me.

Don't Turn Your Back On The Beauty of Life

So, as most of you know, I had the incredible opportunity to work a trip to Anchorage, Alaska this past week. And, like I've said, the scenery, the clean air and the people just completely won my heart.
One of the especially cathartic experiences was a very long walk on the Tony Knowles Coastal Trail, which meanders along Cook’s Inlet, from, downtown to the airport. (The word "very" is inadequate. I walked approximately 15 miles that day, then worked a seven-hour flight, only sitting for a total of 40 minutes...my feet, legs and glutes are still not particularly happy with me.)
As I walked along this trail, I saw beautiful sites. Scenery that was, at the same time, breath-taking and life-giving. It was as though every bend in the path, lead to a knew sensation of awe. (One scene in particular, forced me to stop and write poetry. I think this image of majestic mountains piercing whimsical clouds over a beautiful lagoon simply mandated a poetic response to its grandeur.)
If you know me, and my weak emotional restraint, you'll find it no surprise that on so many occasions, I could be heard (literally) laughing out loud, or seen crying, at what my brain and heart were processing.
Beautiful. Breathtaking. Overwhelming.
One bend revealing the tranquility of Cook's Inlet. The next, lush green of evergreen trees. The next, mountains standing at attention, like centuria protecting their charge.
But one particular scene keeps surfacing in my memory.
Among the emotions evoked in other scenes, emotions like awe, joy, exhilaration, this scene evokes the emotions of confusion and, well, pissed-off. (Sorry, Mama and Ma!)
At many of these picturesque settings, park benches were placed, giving the viewer ample opportunity to take in all elements of the beauty presented.
Then there was THIS bench.
At the apex of one curve, the trees opened to give one of those (have I used this term?) BREATH-TAKING vistas of the dancing waters of the inlet, back-dropped by green mountains miles away. And at this bend, near the water, was another bench.
Only this bench didn't face the water.
This bench didn't face monumental mountains.
This bench, in this amazing location, faced some drab, emotionless building apparently housing systems for municipal water or sewage, its only purpose for existence: utility.
I didn't understand!
Why? In this place, this inspiring place, why in the world would a bench be placed in such a manner that your back is to beauty and the only thing you can see is cold utility.
Well, like I said, I haven't been able to shake this feeling and the questions it's placement has brought about.
You may not be like this, but I see great symbolism in almost everything. Sometimes I consider that I must be insane, because of how seemingly inertia, seems to speak such volumes to me and my views of life.
But, here I saw how we humans, so often approach the circumstances and situations, with which we are presented.
Here's what this has meant to me.
As we walk this path, life, and find ourselves at places or in situations, so often we can only see the cold, the drab, the lifelessness that the situations present.
So often we find ourselves stuck on a bench in life and the only thing we can see is the old, dead utility that lies just before our eyes.
So often we see only the drudgery of work.
But this would make sense, right? I mean, the bench on which we're sitting only faces utility, normality or maybe futility.
And, since we play by the rules, we use the bench only in the manner it was designed.
The bench faces drudgery. We only see drudgery.
WHY WOULD THEY POINT THE BENCH IN THE DIRECTION OF THE UTILITY BUILDING???
Better question: why do we think we have to face the direction the bench is telling us to face???
So, I guess what I'm saying is this: when you come to places in your life where on one side the scene is ugly, lifeless; and the other side is limitless beauty and unrestrained life, it all just depends on which way you choose to look.
Where are you?
Are you staring at the definition of meaninglessness?
Maybe, just maybe, we should defy the rules of bench-setters and be the scorn of bench-sitters, and turn the other way.
Maybe, just maybe, we should look for the beauty that is obvious in that same place!
It may not all be as bad as it seems...life may be just 180 degrees from where you happen to be...

I love you all, and the cry of my heart is that you all find beauty in life.

The Beauty in "Everyday"

I used to hate hot tea.

The mere thought of tea served at any temperature warmer than a tooth-pain inducing level made me sick to my stomach.

My grandma made the best sweet, iced tea! If I remember correctly, the beverage of choice to be served with butter beans and cornbread for every meal was sweetened with two cups of sugar and five saccharin tablets (if anyone remembers what saccharin is...). It was so sweet, I often just had tea for dessert!

I loved iced tea and HATED hot tea.

But then I went to Ukraine.

In Ukraine, as with most of the rest of the world, tea was preferred hot. The hotter the better.

Maybe my love for tea came from my deep love for the Ukrainian people who introduced me to it, but in that three weeks, tea became synonymous with things like comfort, creativity, peace and love for me emotionally.

"Vwi khoteetya chai?" The question.

"Da, spaseeba!" The reply.

"Kofe', chai, potansuem?" That still makes me giggle.

A love for tea, and the evoking emotions was birthed in me.

The tradition I learned from Sveta of inhaling a deep breath of the tea's aroma before taking a drink.

The way to wrap the tea bags string around the spoon until you can squeeze out the last drops of tea water held in the bag. (Of course, me, being the rebel I am, with a taste for the bold, always left my tea bag in the cup! Scandal!)

The late nights in Gala and Dima's apartment; eating cookies, drinking tea and laughing at jokes that lost meaning in translation!

Ah, tea.

In the few years since then, I've had the opportunity to sample teas from around the world.

Amazingly exotic and expensive teas.

Like the ruby red chai from Trader Joe's that made people almost melt from it's delicious smell.

Or the sharp, ginger tea that calmed the passenger's queasy stomach on a very rough flight.

The blueberry tea in Turkey.

Or the masala chai tea in that little market in Mumbai. More presented than served.

Teas steeped from bags or just loose leaves floating in the cup.

Teas so strong and bold it made you feel "like a man."

Teas so delicate I thought they would drift me into some swan like dance. (But I resisted.)

Like I said, some exotic, some expensive. All vying for a position in my backpack, to be enjoyed on the next layover or while writing or simply at gate A19...

And I wrestled with the decision of which was favorite.

But recently I realized the winner.

It was a tea I never even purchased.

Just the little packets left next to electric kettles in hotel rooms in Ireland and the United Kingdom.

Free for the taking. And inauspiciously and absent-mindedly tossed into my backpack with it's more alluring cousins.

But I found it to be the best, in my humble estimation.

Drinking this tea makes me comfortable, at peace, while simultaneously enticing me to be creative and risky.

And to think, I spent so much time overlooking this tea...almost never giving it a chance.

See, it's packaging appears dull and boring. It's name almost nondescript.

In competing for my choosing, this tea faded into nylon recesses when compared to names like Indian Spice, Kenya, Passion or Awake.

The name of this tea seems almost as though Thomas Twinings himself was calling from beyond his British tomb, with a haunting, sing-song warning: "BOR-ING!"

As though, even a major tea company's marketing department could think of nothing spectacular to say, only that this tea is insignificant, pallid.

See, this tea that has become my favorite, this tea that both calms and inspires me, rests in a docile label reading "Everyday."

Everyday.

Any old day.

Nothing special.

No birthday cakes or shouts and cheers.

No red carpet applause or acceptance speeches.

No barrage of bubbles or bird seed.

No spiritual mountain peaks.

Just...everyday.

(I always think of Tuesday afternoons.)

The reality of my love for this tea, and it innocuous title, hit me in the middle of a sea of brilliant significance. It hit me this weekend while being part of an incredible mountain high experience called CGYWVN #23.

In the height of this jubilation, surrounded by some of the most beautiful faces and words, knowing the capacity of my heart and feeling the exhilaration that capacity's burst, I realized that this beauty can be known.

But not just there.

Not just in that seclusion of love and acceptance.

Not just behind the great walls laughter, tears, Daddy-hugs and the floating-on-air-feelings of freedom.

I realized that this can be known in Everyday.

Even when I'm far removed from that fortress of forgiveness, where everyone almost seems to live to tell me I'm loved, I can know the Daddy who loves me Everyday.

This also made me think of people.

And I realized that it is not really the one's whose appearance, talents and gifts are featured in prime time or illuminated by spot lights, who make the big difference in the lives of people.

In fact, sometimes these people detest their own mirror's reflection or the burden that comes with living up to the expectations of those gifts and talents.

So often, the people who make the biggest difference in our lives are the people who feel they wear that Twinings Tea label.

Everyday.

Sometimes people feel they have nothing to offer in the lines of exotic, special or memorable. And feel that shrinking into obscurity is their obvious destiny.

But just like this tea has brought such emotional reassurance to me and my life, it is most often the people who seem to just quietly exist that have brought about the most security in me being the best me I can be.

It's so often those who feel they have nothing special to offer that have brought the most special gifts for me to open, and that remind me life is worth living alive.

So today, if you're having an "everyday," or if you're feeling that you stand out like beige paint...don't forget the great peace and significance and beauty of your Everyday.

And thank you for making the difference that makes me alive.

I love you and the beauty of the Everyday.