If only...

If the world were a stage, there'd be tears in my eyes.
Bright lights, tap shoes, so much to amaze.
I'd dance with you slowly and meet your gaze
In an idyllic place with a perpetual sunrise.

I have to settle for photoshop and a tongue so knotted up, it'll take years to untie.

I want a downpour, a warm fire, candles, a good book, a friendly face, and a glittering tapestry after the clouds part. I want a lot of things that I fear I must let go of.



I speak cryptically, perhaps romantically - but this is just one thing I'd like. I'm selfish, and want more than I deserve. Especially given that I've already been given more than I deserve.

"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost, but now am found
Was blind, but now I see"

It's amazing sometimes how God knows just what you need to hear, or see, or what have you to really knock you on your butt.

Santa Fe Chicken sandwiches, for example. Today I was knocked on my butt over and over again. Good company, gratitude, compliments, good songs, and lots and lots of love.

I need to journal more.

"Dear Father, I need You
Your strength, my heart to mend
I want to fly higher
Every new day again"

"If mercy falls upon the broken and the poor
Dear Father, I will see You there on distant shores"



One to one correspondence came up in regular conversation today. That's the idea that, with an infinite amount of numbers, there must therefore be an infinite amount of odds, and evens, and primes, and so forth. This means that, if you lined up every odd with every integer, you'd conceivably be unable to state that there are more integers than odds.

I think its a lot like that with the most recently quoted lyrics. I've been lost out in a storm for a long while - and not the kind of storm I want, with lots of rain and the pleasant pitter-patter on the roof. I've been in tumbling seas and fierce gales which have beaten me beneath the foam of the waves. But despite all that, I've reached closer to the shore because of God's mercy - I can always see Him on the distant shore. But I never reach the shore. Even on my best days, I fall short of that beach. It's why I think I like the beach so much... why I like the wind. It's like a small taste of the Glory of God. He stands on the beach beckoning to us, and calming the storms when it seems unlikely that we could ever survive.

We strive and we work for that shore so desperately... but God is with us regardless. He's the piece of drift wood, the spark of energy pumping into our limbs, the break in the clouds - and yet still, He is separate from us, there on the beach.

We, as integers, can think we will always outnumber the odds - yet somehow those obstacles and those sins are always right there with us.




I have a massive headache, and I think I'm running a fever - but that's neither here nor there, now is it?