myopic pilgrim

Will blogged about this shirt for young Young Republicans. And because it can’t, it won’t, and it don’t stop, Lowercase Tee has a couple of options for other future voters.

The shirt once again solidifies the number one reason to vote for Kerry: he’s not Bush.

I’m watching a bit of What I Like About You or it might have been the less vacuous Gilmore Girls and they use this haunting song in a short montage about some relationship debacle. Kind of a throaty, late night on the riverfront male vocal.

Oh, this is the start of something good
Don’t you agree
I haven’t like this in so many moons
You know what I mean…
So since you want to be with me
You’ll have to follow through
With every word you say

I stick around after the show because I know they’re going to tell me who it is. It’s all part of this new marketing schtick. Let’s insert his single in a popular show that has the same target audience. It’s like a alternate video for the song.

Turns out it’s Gavin DeGraw Read the rest of this entry »

Just want to know that you still know how many hairs are on my head.
Oh, great God, be small enough to hear me now.

-Nichole Nordeman

After church, it’s hard to walk out of there in less than fifteen minutes. This past Sunday was a classic example with a never-ending stream of people needing to talk to me. Some had to convey sympathies and others just had some business to speak to me about. After about the tenth person with more standing in line, I was sending out telepathic messages. Please, just let me go. I don’t have any more of me to give today.

These last couple of days have been hard. It’s been almost two weeks since the miscarriage and it was only yesterday that I was able to weep. I’ve been working on landscaping our yard for a few days; I’m tired and my muscles ache. Maybe that’s why I was finally able to wail a little for our child.

The crying came in spurts because I kept analyzing why I was crying and suddenly I wasn’t feeling anymore. I was chronicling. I kept moving outside of myself, watching me cry, as if I was an impartial observer. This sorrow you are feeling now, is it for your loss? Or are you just emotionally fragile from fatigue? Sometimes I’m so painfully self-aware, I can’t seem to just be in the moment. I kept having to tell myself it’s okay to cry. That I should cry. I needed to cry, to finally allow myself to fully feel the pain.

God,
You build my dreams and dash my hopes.
You throw me from the cliffs overlooking a vast sea to rocks below.
I’m hit with tides of sorrow, ebbing and flowing.
My heart is split open;
My tears suffocate me.
If you mark my step and you ordain my coming and going,
Why direct me to despair?

Yet in your wounding there is wisdom.
In your killing, there is mercy.
Still, your bullets bleed me; their fire stings flesh.
Bind my hurt, O Lord. Feed me my next breath.
Have mercy on me and my family and we will praise you.