Easter Sunday

Easter is the reason why I can smile at funerals.

Easter is how I know I'll see them again.

It's how I know I'll see Him again.

What a homecoming.

It is bright.

But not because pastels run rampant.

It is bright because it is hope

And hope shines.

It is rebirth.

Not because all of the eggs are hatching.

It is rebirth because of Christ

And Christ was resurrected.

It is a reunion.

But this isn't because my family always gets together.

It is a reunion between us and our Heavenly Father

And He misses us.

It's Christmas with warmer weather.

It's a Birthday with His name on the cake.

It's Valentine's day with a love that will last for eternity.

It's the Fourth of July with infinite freedom.

 It's Thanksgiving with much more to be thankful for.

It's cold in the shade

I see you.

 You're hard to miss. 

Beautiful and strong

  Stunning in your territory.

I sometimes feel I shouldn't be included in it.

   But I was planted right next to you

For reasons I don't fully understand yet. 

   The gardener knows. But He's alone in His proficiency with reasoning.

I appreciate your beauty.

  I do.

But at times there isn't much room for me.

   And you've had longer to grow your branches. 

The sunlight illuminates you in all of your magnificence.

    It is lovely to see.

But at times it's hard

    Because it's cold in the shade. 

And 
I 
must
grow
right 
next
to
you.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

In a mirror,
You are the only person who sees yourself straight.
You are the only one who is your own,
Height

Weight

Eye color

Shape

Hair color

All in one package.

Nobody else sees you the way you do.
Nobody else sees you from your eyes. From your angle.

Other people are taller than you.

Angled differently than you.

Other people have things in the way of their view of you.

Maybe it's their lenses.

Maybe there's something blocking their view.

But they don't see you straight. Maybe it's a lighting issue.

Yet, they see YOU in better light than you do.

Maybe the problem is that you've never actually seen yourself.

You have only ever seen a reflection.

Reflections tell us many things,

Height

Weight

Eye color

Shape

Hair color

All in one look.

Take another look. And see yourself straight.

...Because YOU exist outside of that reflection. But that reflection doesn't exist outside of you.

HOME

Take me home.

Where the foil is red and green and there is chocolate inside.

Take me home.

Where I will probably still sleep like I'm in a twin bed... but I won't have to.

Take me home.

Where Mom isn't a voice inside a glass-cased, geometric, handheld device.

Take me home.

Where the only writing required is none.

Take me home.

The place that I didn't fully appreciate until it wasn't the address I put on my envelopes.

Take me home.

Where I can finally sleep in... but I probably won't.

Take me home.

Where I can bug my little brother everyday.

Take me home.

Where I can hear my Mom's footsteps wherever she goes in the house.

Take me home.

Because even though I have to turn the bathroom fan on to fall asleep, I still know there's a Priesthood holder within shouting distance when the thoughts in my head run away.

Take me home.

Because there's a fireplace.

Take me home.

Because it's been an incredible journey and I want them to see it.

Take me home.

Because even though I saw you regularly, I missed you more than I can tell you.

Take me home.

The place where the bubbles are in a tub big enough to fit all of me inside.

Take me home.

Because right now. Today. It is the only place I want to be.

The Stairs

Life can be scary.

Like walking up stairs blindfolded.

Not knowing what's ahead,

Just feeling where you are.

You want to stop...

But you can't.

You push forward... you fall.

You stand up, with faith to carry on,

But you fall again.

You brush off these failures,

And with fresh determination you leap.

Only to fall a third time.

Doesn't anyone care? you cry out.

Silence.

Darkness.

Tears roll down your cheeks as you realize how

Alone you are.

You give up, and as you are about to succumb entirely to the self-pity 

You've allowed into your journey,

Someone whispers.

Take off the blindfold.

As you remove the mask,

You see others walking those same stairs.

Falling,

Leaping,

Trying,

Crying,

And you whisper to them,

Take off the blindfold.

November 2010

Rainy Days

On my face there were Rain tracks instead of Tear tracks. An original happenstance.

Wore a coat without an umbrella. The rain soaked all around.

There was rain with patience. Not rain with rush.

The trap was with laughter. Not with trepidation.

A chance to recreate. Not run away.

Today light came from the clouds, not the sun. Deep reflection, instead of searing rays.

Smiles came from inside, not outside. Taking what's spiritual and making it physical.

There were unseen bells and the music came from the world, not the tower.

Reflection pools with sprinkled disruptions. Still saw everything.

Trees with rainbow leaves.

Leaves without rainbow trees.

Envelopes with stickers.

Branches made light and clean.

Keys without locks.

Bricks without mortar.

Eerie symbolism.

Love without fear.

The mud is thick

The mud is thick.
Like being dragged through frustration.
The rope burns your wrists where it makes contact with your soft skin.
The horses hooves are steady.
The ground is not.
There are Branches and pebbles.
Boulder and stumps.
In fact, patches where it is mud alone are a relief.

Every now and then there is a sharp turn.
You are whipped around and for a moment you are suspended in stillness.
But the moment passes and you are jarred back to this endless game of tug-of-war.
You've already lost, but your opponent doesn't care.
He keeps on running.
Faster and faster.
Harder and harder.
 
Then all of a sudden you stop.
You think that perhaps another turn is approaching and you brace for impact.
None comes.
In fact, you have been staring at this stretch of sky for so long that it becomes boring.
You attempt to sit up and your body protests.
As your head flops back down in the mud, you feel a cool darkness on your face.
You look up and see two eyes.
Then a hand reaches down to you.
It is such a foreign gesture that at first you reject it.
Then you realize that you are being greeted with a smile
And you reach up.

The hand is strong and pulls you into a sitting position.
Your wrists are still tied but the horse has stopped.
This traveler pulls out compassion and begins to scrub off grime with it.
They put on a salve of good listening.
They shield your heart with a hug.
They do not have to tell you they love you.
You know it.
And they know it.
They cannot take away the pain of this journey.
You know it.
And they know it.
 
But what you didn't know was that they could give you a priceless gift.
Not only a small relief from the torture,
But also a reminder.
This is not forever.
There will always be people who love you.
You are not looking forward to continuing the drag.
But you can now look forward to ending it.
Because up until this point you were not sure it would end.
But the reminder of a traveler keeps hope pumping through your veins.

January 2013