My Perfect Day

Laying in the cool shade, the humid wind blowing across the field drying the sweat on your body. The wagon above you creaks with the burden of hay you toiled to place upon it. Nature starts to heal from the plunder of the haybine as birds once again sing, down the valley, you see a fawn walk in to the alfalfa stubble. You know by the sun it is almost chore time, and you are thankful for the daily milking and feeding to give yourself a break from the hard work of mowing hay, these bales can stay on the wagon for the night, not a cloud in sight, nary a speck on the blue hue. Lookking forward to tonight, maybe after chores a quick dip in the creekto cool off and get the field grime off your skin before dinner.

You can already smell the popcorn after dinner as your wife and the kids are just starting a movie as you get out of the shower. Feeling shiny and new, you sit beside your wife and take her hand, she lays her head upon your chest and you can hear her sigh as she relaxes, your workday is done and you are where you belong. you both smile as you watch the kids, one by one, slide a little closer to you, just inch over a little at a time, trying to get closer to mom and dad, no matter what the movie, there is no place like this, home with family, your life beside you and love all around. Later, carrying the sleeping kids to bed, and kissing them all goodnight, you thank your wife for a wonderful day and talk about tomorrow. You hold her close and give her a long gentle kiss, tell her how much you love her, as you close your eyes to drift off to dreamland, you thank God for all the wonderful joy in your life, Amen as you drift away, Your life no longer a dream on this perfect day.

Marriage

Since it is all the rage these days, and everybody is talking about it, I started thinking about the way God wants us to love our wives. As we are to love our Wives as Christ loved us, and after hearing Jon's message about how Christ not only died for us, but lived for us, and lives through us, I started thinking about that in terms of marriage. So I started reading Ephesians, chapters 4 and 5, then linked them to I Timothy 2:12, then tied in I Corinthians 7:10-15, and II Corinthians 6:14, mostly just to get me off the hook. So here is how I see it.

1. Christ Died for us, We die for our wives, not just the simple death, of being willing willing to die for her, for as a man, we are willing to put ourselves in harm's way many times, and sometimes for total strangers. The death I am talking about, is really two deaths.

A. Your own death, As a man, and in time a husband and father, you kill

yourself a little every day, going to work to support your family, you

break your body down.

B. Your killing of the old man, Every day, you take that sin nature to task

every day, When the waitress with the loose shirt bends over to get a

better tip, don't look down her shirt, kill off your flesh desire's

2. He lived for us, you live for your wife, with every decision you make, long before you meet your wife, for she may be watching, you set your goals, you live a Christian life as a single man, getting yourself established, with a steady income. You make your decisions together with her, and for her. When you are out somewhere, and you see something she might need, think of her, take that little time on your lunch break to call and ask how her day is going. do things together, even when you are tired, take that walk as the sun goes down, stay up and talk, sitting on the couch. let her rest when the baby cries, these are little things you do for her, love her more than yourself, cherish her, teach her, honor her, in the way you talk about her, A woman any woman is to be honored, but your wife is to be honored above all other's she is part of you, the best part.

3. He lives through us. Live through her. In today's schedule of run, run, run. A man is often gone to work before the kids even wake up, and they are thinking about bed, when he returns home. So you need to make sure your wife is washed in the word, to edify he love of Christ into your children, to have the education of your children be a joint effort, To be sure, even though you are not home, that your children through your wife, know what you would say if you were there to answer any question they would have. Your wife being an equal in the knowledge of Christ, Joined. The time you share with your family should not have to be just punishing them for the things they did when you were gone. It shouldn't be, I hope dad doesn't come home too soon, Mom's gonna tell him a out all the stuff I did. Discipline is a shared task, anyway, they run fast, so it takes both of you to catch and one to hold and one to spank.

This is really broken down, but here is the gist of it. there is alot more about being Equally yoked, and loving your wife, but it would take me forever to write tonight, and i need to get to sleep, Gotta get well. Tell me what you think, Am I way off?

Watching the sun

As I sit here in the mud, I want my watch to speed up, my headache so great, so many things that must wait. I stir the mud, let it dry, watch the traffic go by, I seem so busy, no time to idle, but nothing being accomplished, but wathcing the sun, forced to stop and take a lunch, it seems to break the day up, work on my study in my mind, more than just to pass the time. I look at verses, look up truths, understand what Christ said. I study marriage and the gift it is, and want to write of it, but by the time I am done bouncing around all day, I am too tired to do more than sleep, hardly able to get myself home and in bed, Needing to do laundry, my sock snake, being used again, I smile thinking about a friend, it seems I smile all day long, when being yelled at or singing a song, it sure is nice to know I am not alone, as I write these words, not quite a poem.

Indiscriminate wording

We may not have it all together, but together we have it all, over time the things I have seen and the places I have been may whirl into the fabric of my life, looking back on the beauty I have known, scenic views that I have seen, with no-one to walk them with me, Yet I see the most beautiful things when I close my eye's, Wind blowing in the breeze, Her eye's laughing at a little joke. These are the things I can share with her, and in time, I would like to have her help to sew the ragged pieces of the fabric of my life into the beautiful cloak that is in my mind, sharing the tales of it's ragged journey, and telling of each beautiful place and sight along the cloak's journey. As we all know, the wear and tear you get along the journey, makes it's own little story in the fabric of life, The times you have used your fabric as a shelter to those in a storm, held it close to you when lost in the cold, shaded yourself from the heat of dark night, wrapped a loved one in it as they passed on, The cloak I wear has been many places, and has been used for many things, That cloak being me, My heart, My soul, My Love, My shield,

China heart in my chest

China heart in my chest

one of the ways I have been blessed

no callous to cover, afraid of pain

broken too often, cannot glue it again

through doctrine I climbed to where I am

respect and friendship is what I seek

though my thought may not seem meek

keeping me from larger mistakes

and even bigger heartaches

This china heart is safe again

I hold it tight, show it too a friend

bubblewrap all popped and gone

how I kill the time alone

I finally took the time to repair

the little pieces scattered everywhere

so with drying glue I sit and stare

watch the wind blow through her hair

the china hutch I seem to be

tattered and worn though it is me

the family heirloom that is my dreams

I see it clearly while watching moonbeams

The Shadow again

Pages written by my hand

thoughts to me, not so grand

a hope upon a grander scheme

these things are written on a general theme

patiently waiting, learning of you

so many things I learn are true

opinions we share on many matters

on others still, mad as hatter's

I swear on amusement, the number increase

but on her shadow, thoughts do not cease

shaking my spear, like a sword in a scabbard

she'll worry I fear, my thought's are rabid

Spring is here

Water flowing on the snow

to the lowland it will go

gravity pulling, the earth a drain

like tears they flow, away from pain

tears will fall like the spring rain

washing away, our loss a gain

the new seeds will be opened

look again at life, as always hoping

open eyes to the new day

for love and peace to her I pray

by her side a friend I stay

wandering again but lost no more

learning and living what my heart is for

sore at heart and hurt a little

it seems that I am always in the middle

high on age and low on looks

speaking as if writing in a book

This delicate dance

As I sit here and type, I think about the delicate dance I do between my fingers and my mind, my mind and my heart, So much to say, so much to ask, I want to know so much, But all I get are the same answers from my mind, "just be patient stupid", My mind can be really mean to me sometimes as you can see. There are so many delicate dances we do, More than just a simple waltz, we seem to just fly around, hither and yon, yet it is such the thing of beauty, around and into different subjects, all over the place, I fear I may dizzy at all the turns before the song ends, but I pray the song never ends, and I learn to soar as my heart does flutter, sould shiver at the thought. What a pleasant place to be, eye's closed, mind where it is happy, at least when my mind is there, it can't yell at me too much, anyway, i am not much of a yeller anyhow.

These Hands

As much as I love listening to the piano, I realize I love watching her hands play the notes, The way they glide and dance. As I sit here watching the sun come up on a new day of fresh snow and beauty, I think about my hands. I think about the deeds they have done, good and bad, and what I have put them through. I think of when I was younger, before lyme's disease, how they did not shake, and the sound of enjoyment, when I give a deep massage. I look at the scars, the cuts, the burns from frostbite and scalding. The burns from acid that leave whole areas white, and the freckles that try to hide them. These hands that have taken life, have also brought new life into this world, have not only broken bones, but fixed and mended other's. Of all the things these hands have not done; to touch with love, the face of my wife, to hold a newborn child of my own, to hold the hand of a woman who knows me and accepts me for who I am, doesn't want to change me. They have yet to hold this woman close, as we drift off to sleep. These hands have been places and touched things, but they have never touched the heart of this woman, to learn her scars and beauty marks. You see, I want to know this woman, as she is, not change her, I know that in the future, I want these hands of mine to work with her hands, to hold them, to teach them, to show them. I want to have my eye's see what our hands can build together, a marriage, a family, a home, a life. I want these hands to hold the hands of my wife.

Soggy Biscuit

Is your life so dry, That you jump at the chance of any excitement, like a biscuit into the great water glass of life? So great the joy, the life nourishing fuel of the Lord Jesus Christ, that you need not seek any other temptation. For as dry as the biscuit is, we know that out of that glass comes a soggy mess of a lump that only a die-hard cook would pick at to eat. I guess what I am getting at is, find the peace of soul that prayer and study give, and enjoy the little things in life, The smiles of your loved one's, The music of special people, and lest we forget, the taste of that soggy biscuit after it's trapeze act into the great water glass of the world. Remember, as a christian, we have a choice of how much of that world we allow to soak into us, and even though we are already forgiven, we must live in this world as a soggy biscuit if we take that plunge.

Thy dream is my goal

I had a wonderful dream last night, and as I often dream, and most are not wonderful, I thought I would tell you about it. I was sleeping soundly, when I suddenly awoke to be sitting on top of a big hill, The wind was gently blowing the pages of the book I was reading, down in the valley below us, was a herd of cows grazing, and there was a little red-haired girl on my lap. While I looked around, A voice behind said, "keep reading daddy" and then another voice to my side said, "You look very happy to be home Jim, What a beautiful day" and I looked at the woman beside me, and reached out to her. Cupping her chin in my hand, I realized that this was my wife, and The baby she was holding was the youngest of three children that were with us. The young boy behind me said, " I wanna hear about the passenger pigeons again, were they really that many of them?" I rubbed my thumb down the cheek of my wife and told her I loved her, as I stared into her eye's for a long moment, my alarm clock went off, and I woke up with tears in my eye's. It was the first happy dream I have had in years, and it was wonderful, absolutely wonderful. I swear I can still smell the alfalfa drying in the sun, and hear the wind blowing the leaves of the trees behind us.

Her shadow

Since my earliest memories I have felt someone beside me, at times I have even seen her shadow. In different people I have seen some of her qualities, her walk but not her talk, or her talk but not her warmth, never quite the whole package. Someone who I share things with because I want her to understand me, not to keep the conversation going. With her I am myself from the beginning, able to speak about my past as a funny story, not the painful memories they have always been. Sharing my worries of today and tomorrow openly and knowing she understands and wants to know them. I have often caught her scent in the wind and heard her whisper in the darkness. At times in my life, I would swear she is all that has kept me going. Being able to discuss spiritual matters openly has brought me to a quicker pace in my own spiritual walk. I have always just known that when I truly found her I would know by a look in her eye's. this is one of the reasons I have been such an eye person, I guess. At times of discouragement, I have felt she did not exist, but I have always looked for her. In relationships in my past No-one has ever understood why some things should wait and it has become one of my fears that no-one will ever understand that some things are too precious to cheapen and exploit, needing to be protected and personal. When the subtleties of a glance or a smile are overlooked, the bond is weakened, the connection is narrowed. Every little touch from the slightest brush, to a hug should always be cherished and kept close to the heart, never letting these moments be forgotten, images lost in a sea of experiences, floating , mixing in the depth of memory. I saw her on a cold night, looking in her eye's I was almost knocked down by her depth and inner beauty. Though the road is littered with uncertainty, the fog is clearing a little more with every beat of our heart. Though much closer the start than the finish, in my heart is burned, the image of her shadow.

Just me

I hope that I find a who that can see, the me that is me, the me that I see, A woman who knows the parts that are missing, The soft caring man who loves to be kissing, Who can see through the hard times and the way I have to be, for at work I must climb and then crawl, whatever the occasion may need. I know in my heart, or at least what is left, that there must be a woman who can love me at my best, who can love me when I am tired, can put me to bed, who can tell me everything is ok when I wake from images in my head. I know I am asking alot of my friend, for a friendship it must be, and a love till the end, This special person can knows me as no-one else can, Who I can open up doors for and puts up with my friends. Whose family can accept me for all that I am, grumpy curmudgeon from up north, and soft willow breeze on the smile patrol. With so many simple dreams, That I keep in my heart, our children to raise, A home with a heart. When I look in her eye's as my hair has gone gray, she will see me as I am laughing with her today, For beauty can wither and bodies to wear, but A love built in Christ will never need more than simple repair, Working out problems, Talking through dreams, even when anger and hot tempers scream, I just hope that this woman can understand me, all I want her to know, is just me

words on a page, Part I

While the moon casts it shadow into the darkness, the creatures of the night wander to kill the hunger that leads them. I know and feel that this relationship will last, my heart no longer to wander. As clouds covereth and block the light, so shall the trials of life hinder the flow of love in our lives. Letting God's grace be the night wind, this grace shall remove such reservations. Time and time alone shall let the truth be known. Knowing the seed sown in past, whether pride or ponder, shall show the future on this little orb of dirt in space on which God has decided to do his human experiment.