Archive for January, 2006


Between the Stars

Between the stars it can be quite lonely.
How can I be sure you are there?
I see their light. Their music shines bright.
But the darkness has me.
The silence enfolds me.

I just want to touch you.
Want to know you are there.
I just want to feel you.
Want to see how you care.

The books, I can read them. But some people,
you just can’t believe them.
Got to make the time to clear my mind.
To make things more clear.
I know now. I see you are here.

Traveling between darkness and light.
Somehow, I get lost. Turned around again.
Just where I thought I was going.
It never stops moving away.
Is it this time to stay?

I just want to touch you.
Want to know you are there.
I just want to feel you.
Want to see how you care.

The books, I can read them. But some people,
you just can’t believe them.
Got to make the time to clear my mind.
To make things more clear.
I know now. I see you are here.

The safety of this world eludes me.
The reality I see. It can’t be real.
I’d be a fool to believe what I see.
But I’m beat by it.
I can’t escape the heat.

It’s me again Lord. Looking for you.
How can I be sure you are there?
I see Your light. Your music shines so bright.
I just want to touch you.
Want to know you are there.
I just want to feel you.
Want to see how you care.

Heavy

Help is a good thing. Sometimes we don’t ask for it when we should. You know as in, “No I’m not lost, I’m just taking the scenic route.”

Sometimes, it takes a stranger’s kindness to pull us out of the vice of stubbornness. “Yo, Dude! You need help getting that washing machine out of your truck?”

Sometimes, we want help offered to us. Like when we’re at the store trying to find the price on the only remaining, one of a kind, Acme brand, widget in the store — and suddenly all the people who were asking if you needed help finding anything are nowhere in sight, which is amazing considering the store isn’t any bigger than your living room.

Sometimes, help is just plain annoying — especially when it’s so obviously false…

I had a light list, the kind where it takes longer to find the stuff than it does to stand in line to pay for it. Finally, it’s my turn.

As I go to pay the cashier asks, “Would you like some help out to your car with that?”

I think to myself, “Sure, cause this package of guacamole is hideously heavy.” But I say something somewhat more polite like, “No thanks.”

I pay, and of course the receipt jams the printer. The cashier spends a couple of minutes fixing the machine before she hands it to me. Then of course she says, “Thank you Mr. White. Would you like someone to help carry that to your car for you?”

Next time I’m going to say yes.

C is for Cookie

I’m in the software industry by trade – but I do a number of other jobs on a “contract” basis. My contracts stipulate I will perform the assignments without argument or pay. (On rare occasion, I am allowed to roll my eyes and heave a sigh. However, I don’t often negotiate for those stipulations because the bargaining is usually more trouble than the benefits).

Most of my obligations are standing agreements – take out the trash when it’s full, be the last person to turn out all the lights, squish nasty spiders as needed, etc. That’s because all of my contract jobs come from my wife.

I used to find solace knowing some of my obligations were one-timers. I used to believe once certain jobs were finished I’d never have to do them again. However, I started to rethink that assumption when I realized a job I once thought of as a one-time engagement is actually just another long-standing agreement.

(Of course, that led me to ask the question, “What other jobs did I mistakenly assume were one-timers? More importantly I asked, “Why didn’t I ever read the fine print?” I sheepishly responded to myself, “Next time, get the contract in writing. Now quit wasting time talking to yourself. Get to work!”)

I am a cookie salesman. It’s my job to take the yearly Girl Scout cookie form to my place of employment and solicit as many employees as possible to buy corporately baked and distributed treats. I help my daughter make the Girl Scouts money. If my fellow employees buy lots of boxes, she makes her goal easily and I look like a hero. If the order list stays short… well, my pockets get a lot lighter.

Now, I’m not a good high-pressure salesman. Add to that an office culture which frowns on fundraisers (although we seem to get at least one a month). What you get is extreme reluctance to fulfill my contract. So why do I do it?

Of course, I want my daughter to succeed. (I’d also be happy to eliminate as much stress from my wallet as possible). But my commitment to this, and all my other standing jobs comes down to the one commitment with the microprint line, “…and all other tasks as assigned” I signed in September 1996 with the simple words, “I do.”

Anymore, people seem to skip over that first commitment they made to their spouse. I guess it’s easy to break a promise made to only one person. And that’s the mistake I think too many of us make.

As I thought about the trials my family faced last year and how we committed to each other to get through the difficult times, I came to realize the true significance – the strength as it were, within the vows my wife and I took almost 10-years ago. There’s more to it than just the two of us.

I read, or heard, or otherwise absorbed some information the last year about the history of the western wedding ceremony. At one time in the past, the wedding guests were considered more than just witnesses. The attendants, the parents, the guests, were all charged with protecting the newlywed couple. The witnesses weren’t only to ensure the couple remained committed to each other, but to also enact the marriage with society. (I guess you could say the witnesses were enforcers, making sure everyone outside their circle respected and honored the marriage).

And that’s what got me… the vows my wife and I spoke weren’t just promises to each other. I know the vows we spoke were a commitment to God, but I also began to see the depth of those promises. We made a pledge to our future.

My commitment to my wife doesn’t end with keeping my promise to her. It starts there, but it is fulfilled by honoring the family created by our union. My duty to my children recognizes that part of my wife living within each of them. Our family’s obligation to each other respects the families from which we came. And, our commitment to God acknowledges His presence in our family’s future (both immediate through our children’s children to their children, and so on).

So, I guess I may sigh a little bit when I get these assignments. But it’s only because I’m wrestling to shed a little more of my selfishness to honor those I love.

The Kids

Dad is a game,
like football – only tackles can be deflected by tickles,
like king of the hill – kids pile to stay on top of him.
He’s a trampoline,
a gymnastics mat,
a dance partner.

Dad is sound effects,
Dad is a robot,
a pirate,
silly songs.

Dad is who we call in the middle of the night,
when we can’t sleep -
when there are invisible monsters in the room,
when we need our music,
when we want our covers made neat.

Dad greets us when we wake.
Dad gets donuts,
he makes his special toast..

Dad puts on dance night,
Dad makes pancakes,
picks out movies,
pops popcorn.

Dad carries us from the car to our rooms
when we sleep – and when we pretend to sleep.
Dad reads to us and helps us play video games.

We are the time he carries like change,
the songs he sings when life is hard,
or the job stings.

We are the glow in is heart,
to him in all these things, joy we bring.

In Your Eyes

Today, everything comes down. The lights, the decorations, the memories. Good and bad — all will be stowed in boxes, stashed in bags, tucked away in our hearts.

We will not hold too closely to the things we put away, but sometimes we’ll miss them. On hot summer days we’ll think of the cold nights we once wished to hide. We’ll pull the memories out and try them on. But, the chill will be too bitter for us in our sandaled feet and shorts and we’ll tuck the thoughts back into place.

Summer will turn to Fall. Beauty will be stripped bare. Winter will come to clothe her. Its warm blankets of snow will protect her. She will wait for us. When we come, we will receive the gifts given in their right time.

Joy will bless our hearts.