If I Could Tell You I Love You

 

 

If my heart could sing,
what would be the song?
Would it whisper like the flutter
of a nightingale’s wing;
soft and adoring
with hushed kindness?
Or would it roar like a lion,
with uncontrolled passion?
Both sung with heart enthralled
and soul aflame.

 

If I could tell you a story,
what would be the tale?
Adventurous and bold,
of brave deeds and chivalry?
Or a romance which tells
of sweet gentle caress?
Both told with damp brow
and trembling lips.

 

If I could write you a poem,
what would be the prose?
Would I write you a limerick,
to make you smile and laugh with joy?
Or would it be filled with passion
and sweet words of adoration;
to enhance,
perhaps,
a sigh from your lips,
and a tear to float down
your cheek?

 

If I could tell you my feelings,
what could I say?
I have yet to unravel
the many emotions
which weigh my heart
in troubled uncertainty.
For though I love you sincerely,
from deep in my breast,
I know not your feelings in return.

 

If I sang you a song,
or told you a story,
or even proclaimed my love in verse,
would you not love me in return?
Or would you scorn me for my
presumptuous ways,
and bade me farewell
for all eternity?

 

I am so afraid
to tell you I love you.
For if spoken or written,
the dream might soon perish.
Yet my heart holds too much.
So to you I must proclaim
that “I love you”;
and pause to consider
the boldness of my deed.
May it not be that told
to a fleeting shadow,
but a warm hand
and loving heart.

 

J.P. Wiegand

© Emittravel 1987

This one can be described as pouring out your heart to the woman you love, telling her your dreams and ambitions ... then replacing the picture upon the mantle.

The attempt here is to conjure up as poetic an image possible, without being bogged-down by the sappiness of the moment.

The photo was taken of a perfect stranger sitting along a river's edge. The contrasts captivated me. The breathlessness of the moment pulled me in. What is she thinking? Who is she thinking of?

For the reader: Is there someone who holds your heart, but they don't know it? Maybe it is time to tell them! -j.p.

© Emittravel 2015

If the Stiletto Fits . . .

A few weeks prior to this writing, Bruce Jenner "came out" publicly as Caitlyn Jenner.

First off, I think it interesting that we still use the expression "came out", as it is directly reminiscent of when those outside the socially-accepted "norm" were IN the so-called closet, and, when going public with the truth concerning themselves, would come OUT of said closet.

Secondly, I think it interesting that the term "closet" is used to describe both the place for those outside of the socially-accepted "norm", AND as the place Christians are encouraged to enter when praying (Matthew 6:6 - KJV). Curious. Ever think that for some people, the very "closet" one spends time in prayer becomes the very place they discover their true selves?

(Yeah, that last thing may upset a few folks . . . )

As I mentioned in my last blog post, one of the difficulties I have with the Christian church is the focus on the depravity of the world, and how those in the church have "overcome" and are separate from, even superior to, it. I was part of that belief structure for many years, and I know how entrenched that attitude can be in one's life. And it is sometimes given from the pulpit with sly humor, all the while reinforcing an intolerance for the very people the church is supposed to be reaching out to.

If you, as a person with such an attitude, find that you have difficulty with folks like Caitlyn Jenner, I want to know something: Is God the author of birth defects?

Think about that for a minute. And no, I'm not calling Caitlyn Jenner someone with a birth defect. Though, in a sense, maybe I am.

We Christians like to say that God doesn't make junk. For example, using the (re)creation account in Genesis chapter one, everything God made was "good". The bible also says that sickness and disease are from the Devil. So, where do birth defects come from? I've already argued that children aren't born with them because of their sins or the sins of their parents (see "Hey Babe: Take a Walk on the Quiet Side"), so where do they come from?

(One way I understand it is, the longer we have been here, reproducing and reproducing, errors in our genetic make-up keep getting passed down, and even transfigured, from one generation to the next. I was born, for instance, without a sense of smell. For me each breath is the same. My mom's sense of smell is normal. My dad's is beyond normal: he's smelled an underground gas leak that the technician couldn't detect with his meter until he had dug two-feet below ground! Yet, MY shnoz is basically useless. With sinus issues, it is sometimes beyond useless! Radiation is known to be a source of some cancers, because of the way it affects cells. I believe that in some cases, cancer can be a genetic disorder.)

Now, if someone is born with a birth defect, and science has come to the point where they can "fix" it, should the person with the defect take advantage of that technology? Or, since God made them that way, should they embrace the way they are and not seek "wholeness"? If one is born without arms or legs, prosthetics today have come a long way to providing someone a higher level of independence than they would have ever experienced otherwise. Would it be wrong to embrace such technology? What about corrective lenses (glasses or contacts), or even LASIC surgery? Would those be abominations because they go to "fix" what God had deemed "good"? Of course not.

Okay, let's not limit birth defects. Since sex is only determined by a couple of X's and Y's (and no, I'm not getting into the whole sex vs. gender argument), what if what one is born with is NOT what they, inside, determine themselves to be? Isn't that a form of birth defect too? And since science has come to the point where they can "fix" that as well, is it wrong for a person to embrace that either?

You have to think, if all wisdom and inventiveness ultimately comes from God, is it so wrong for medical technology to give people a way to live a more "normal" life?

As the title says, "If the stiletto fits . . . "

© Emittravel 2015

Fish or Cut Bait?

As I sit here, mentally preparing to write, I find I'm stuck between two different topics. One was an opinion piece on the Bruce-to-Caitlyn Jenner announcement, and the other was a reflection on my first "full" service at my "home church" (today) since the start of the sabbatical. While having a late breakfast with my  lovely wife this afternoon, I found both topics intertwining. The church experience stepped into the Jenner topic, providing almost further support of the opinion piece yet to be written. With both topics being fenced in by the timeliness of their occurrences, I think I will focus on this morning's experience, and refer to it in a later blog when I go back to the Jenner story.
 
As I wrote in "B.I.B.L.E.", now that I'm at the end of my sabbatical, "Where do I go from here?" I decided to make this Sunday the day I would not exit after the praise and worship portion, and stay until the end of the service. My wife went to the church she has been attending during this period, so if I really felt I couldn't stay, walking out in the middle wouldn't be something that would embarrass her (I, for one, am difficult to embarrass.)
 
The pastor of the church preached the sermon. This is nothing new. It is actually a rare thing for him to not be preaching.
 
Let me add right here, that this is not the first time I've sat through a sermon since the start of my sabbatical. It's just the first time in my "home" church. I've had the pleasure of going to a friend's church, playing with him in the band, and listening to his pastor preach. That experience held little-to-no anxiety for me. I was hoping for a similar experience at my "home" church.
 
(Note: I was thinking of going into a detailed description of the sermon, but I think that it does not fit the purpose of this particular post.)
 
I found myself, not necessarily bored, but more mentally disengaged. This is not a reflection on the pastor's preaching ability: he is a hermeneutically excellent preacher/teacher. It was me.
 
I felt very disconnected. Not just while listening to the sermon, but the whole morning. The long and short of it is, I find I don't believe in what the church preaches anymore. It's more than the "worship" of the bible. It's how the church looks at the rest of the world outside of its stained-glass walls. There is this air of perfection required for God to accept you. That is not what is spoken, but that is the attitude. There is a focus on the depravity of the world outside of the church, and that focus helps to solidify the "we have overcome" persona the church claims. Unfortunately, it is THIS attitude that keeps many outside of the church from wanting anything to do WITH the church.
 
As my wife and I chatted (over some awesome chocolate-meringue pie), I realized that I had changed a lot. She used to shut down during conversations, because she was afraid that what she would say would seriously conflict with my belief structure. Now she says that has changed. I've become more tolerant. I've become more accepting. I've become less . . . religious.
 
In a sense, I would like to think I've become MORE Christ like. Jesus would not hesitate to eat with sinners. He would even occasionally invite Himself over to a sinner's house for lunch. He was tolerant. He was accepting of those "outside". He never made it seem one had to clean up their act BEFORE He would accept them. He was not religious.
 
The pastor mentioned that the pronouns in the passage he referred to (in Genesis) were plural ("Us" and "Our"), showing that the godhead was relational. As I've written a few times previously, if you look at the overall story of the bible, God is a relational god. Christianity is not a religion. It is a relationship. We have gone and made it into a religion. What is religion? Religion, at its root form, means "to strangle".
 
So, "Where do I go from here?" Do I give my "home" church one more shot? Do I, instead, continue to attend the way I did in the sabbatical (making a graceful exit at the "meet and greet")? Or do I make the decision to "cut bait"? Is it the whole idea of church, or the idea of this PARTICULAR church?
 
I told my wife that I had this fear, that if I left my "home" church, without having another place to go, I would find that I would stop believing all together. She doesn't think that would happen. My beliefs have transitioned over this period, not waned. Like REM, maybe I'm just "Losing My Religion".
 
There is the chance, that if I walk away from my "home" church, that I will never again find myself in a worship (music) team. And would I be okay with that?
 
You know what? I think I am.
 
© Emittravel 2015

NO REL PREF

I recently had a visit to a local hospital for some "lab work". That's a nice way to say that I had to go and get some blood drawn. I'm an absolute freak when it comes to needles. When I was a kid (pre-teen, early teen), I needed to have some surgeries, and one of the things they would do is give two shots in either the hip or upper thigh as part of the anesthesia. It would take FIVE nurses to hold me down for the shots. As an adult I say that only two were necessary (WINK!!) I even have trouble watching one of my all-time favorite TV shows: M*A*S*H. Whenever they show a needle I have to turn my head. Pretty phobic!

While at the lab, the staff had to update some of my records in their system, and one of the questions I was asked was what was my religion.

When I joined the Navy at seventeen years old, one of the many questions asked, in the multitude of paperwork, was the same thing: what was my religion. I grew up Roman Catholic, so that is what I put down. Later, when I turned eighteen, I announced to my parents that I was no longer considering myself a Catholic and was no longer going to church. They didn't like it too much, but since I was eighteen, they accepted my decision. That meant that I wanted/needed to contact the Navy to correct my "religion" on the paperwork, which is what I did.

When you arrive in boot camp, one of the things you receive are your dog tags. Dog tags are flat metal plates strung on ceiling fan pool chains that you wear around your neck. There are two tags. One on the main chain, and one on a much smaller chain that is hanging on the big chain. This smaller one is known as a "toe tag". Anyone familiar with shows like CSI should be familiar with the term. On the tags are your name, ID number, branch of service, blood type, and religion. Where it said "religion" it said "NO REL PREF": No Religious Preference.

Here, as I find myself at the end of a sabbatical, I find myself faced with defining the religion I ascribe to. This sabbatical has brought many things to light of where my head/heart/belief structure is, as you can read in past blog posts. I find that labeling my beliefs is much more difficult than it once was. I no longer consider myself Catholic. I've been going (for many years) to a church that jokingly/lovingly calls itself "Bapticostal" (the diligence in study of the bible as the Baptists, with the embrace of the movement and involvement of the Holy Spirit as the Pentecostals). They have been called Charismatic and Non-Denominational. And I have called myself the same.

I could have said "Christian", but the question was concerning my religion. "Christian" literally means "Christ follower", a disciple of Jesus. A relational word that describes a child to their parent. There is a big difference between calling yourself a Christian and calling yourself a Catholic (or Methodist, or Lutheran, or even Bapticostal). And, due to my journey during this sabbatical, I am having a lot of difficulty ascribing myself to one of them.

I turned to the lady and told her NO REL PREF: No Religious Preference.

©Emittravel

Simply a Collection of Figurines?

I had the opportunity to attend a bat mitzvah. A truly wonderful ceremony. Similar to a bar mitzvah (Jewish "coming of age" for boys), a bat mitzvah (for girls) celebrates a person's fully becoming a member of the Jewish community. If you have never had the opportunity to attend one, I encourage you to.

One thing I noticed during the ceremony is that the Jewish faith has three major focuses: (in order of their presentation) Tradition, the Torah, and God. Unlike my Protestant-type experiences, which tend to elevate the whole bible as the "Word" and an object of worship, the Jewish faith focuses on the traditions of the past and the Torah - the first five books of the bible (a.k.a. "The Law"). At one point in the ceremony, the doors in the back of the main platform are opened and the Torah is presented. They take it out and carry it up and down the aisles, where people will reach forth and touch it with their books, and then touch the books to their lips in adoration. It is not done solemnly, but with great joy. In their readings and prayers (mostly in Hebrew), you hear the word "Torah" about as often as "Adonai" (God).

Do you like to collect things? I think it's a pretty common affair. I, for one, collect books (fiction and nonfiction) and movies that focus on time and time travel. My wife collects movies she thinks will make me cry. Some folks collect stamps. Others collect comics. Some even go as far as collect figurines (or, as some like to call them, "action figures" - though, since they don't move, I don't comprehend the "action" part.)

We, as humans, like to collect things. As George Carlin once said (not a quote - this is from memory): "A house is a place to store your stuff. The bigger the house, the more the stuff. The more the stuff, the bigger the house." And boy do we like our stuff. We find comfort in our stuff. We find security in our stuff. Don't believe me? Go on vacation and forget to pack something.

It's not easy to get rid of our stuff either. We find comfort in the tangible. I am in the process of ripping (AGAIN - higher bitrate) my entire collection of CDs and then GETTING RID OF THEM! Okay, not all of them. I'm keeping box sets. And live albums. And those autographed by the artist. And special local ones you won't find on eBay or Amazon. But aside from those, I'm getting rid of them! Okay, it's not easy. I know I'll have them in a digital format on my local hard drive, and on a backup hard drive in a fire-proof safe, and on a server somewhere in the cloud, but it feels odd to let go of the physical CDs. Why? Because we, as humans, find comfort and security in our physical stuff.

And we always have. Go back far enough in history and you'll find people with little statues of wood or stone that represented their gods, and they worshipped them! Then one day a guy named Moses is out looking for a killer way to roast his bag of marshmallows, and meets a God (who ironically is talking to him out of said "killer marshmallow roaster") who tells him not to make similar statues to represent Him. He said He is the God who created heaven and earth, and cannot be represented by insignificant objects of man's hands.

So what do we have today? Statues and rosaries and crosses and altars and prayer shawls and bibles and the Torah and grilled cheese sandwiches that look like Jesus that we consider as "holy", and we worship them.

I wonder what God thinks about us, when we focus on objects to represent Him. It's not like He ever said anything about that (check out numero uno on His Top Ten list [Exodus 20:3-5]).

So, like Gollum, what do you consider "my precious"?

© Emittravel 2015

B.I.B.L.E.

Occasionally, there is a knock on the door - usually the front - and my wife answers it. Standing before her are usually two nicely-dressed individuals, with the purpose of introducing her to the ways of their religion. She smiles politely and says, "I'm sorry, but my husband is a minister at our church and we are happy in our faith." That is usually enough for the two nicely-dressed individuals to turn and head for the next-door neighbor's front door.

"A minister at our church." The reason she would say that is that, because I am on the worship team - in the "music ministry" - I am therefore a "minister". I'm neither licensed nor ordained, yet, I AM a minister by association. I like that.

As I've mentioned in a previous blog, I believe I am coming to the end of my sabbatical. The question remains: where do I go from here?

During this time of separation, I've visited a friend's church where I've had the opportunity to join in on their worship team, and have visited my "home" church a few times (worshipped from in the congregation and departed prior to the sermon). I have continued to read the bible (not as intensely as before) and assorted devotionals, so I haven't gone "cold-turkey Christianity".

Here is my conundrum: Can one be involved in a church ministry, when one disagrees with a major belief of that church?

I don't know when it started, but at one point the pastor of my church started praying the following when praying with those who wanted to become Christians: ". . . and I will attend Your church, and I will read Your book." That statement may indeed have been the proverbial straw for me. Taking it from the viewpoint of the person standing before him, "Your church" sounds an awful lot like THIS particular church is Your church - and that is bad enough. The part that hit me the most was the "I will  read Your book" part. My church, like many Protestant style churches, teaches that the bible is the Word of God. As I've stated previously, I've come to the conclusion (and fervent belief) that the bible CONTAINS the Word of God, but is NOT, in and of itself, THE Word of God.

(You can go back and read some of my recent blogs and see some of the details of that statement, so I'm not going to take up too much space here.)

There used to be this cute acronym made from the letters of "bible": Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth. You'd see it on bumper stickers, t-shirts, and, of course, bible covers (gotta protect that faux-leather cover). The first I heard of it was back in 1998. It was a song by a Christian band called Burlap to Cashmere. I don't know if they were the ones to coin it, but they were the source to my ears. Being one who also believed that the bible was part of the "Holy Quartet", I reveled in the cleverness.

During a breakfast conversation about this with my wife, I got to thinking: It's called "Basic Instructions". Not "Critical Instructions", or "Intricate Instructions", or "Complete Instructions". "Basic Instructions". My Jeep has an owner's manual. Every time I read it (no really, I DO read it), I get some good tips on how to make my Jeep experience more efficient and enjoyable. It does NOT contain the complete details of every aspect of the Jeep experience. You have to "experience" it (and, if you haven't, do yourself a favor and DRIVE one!! Oh wow!) Yet, there is this "doctrine" that the bible contains the complete, inerrant word of God, and there is nothing else needed. You can find all the answers to this life in it. As Colonel Potter used to say, "Horse hockey!" It's a guide. In it you can find the stories of a lot of other people's experiences in their walk (a.k.a. "relationship") with God, and those things can help you as well. But it is a guide.

So, is it even possible to go back into the music ministry of the church that I disagree with on this? I still love God. I'm a Christian. I just won't put the "Basic Instructions" over that experiential relationship. I guess the question is, what does it take to be a Christian? Belief in Jesus the Christ, or belief in the bible?

© Emittravel 2015

Overflowing Verbosity

Nothing worse than sitting down to a blank screen (or sheet of paper, for you analog folks) and having an even blanker brain. That's where I'm at right now. And it kinda sucks.

I've read other blogs that teach that in order to be successful, you need to write EVERY day. Every day. Are you kidding me? For one thing, even if I could write every day, what would I do with all of that material? This is, after all, meant to be nothing more than a way for me to release the tensions that resulted in me waking up screaming from stress headaches. At the most, it's a weekly thing. Much of what I would write would either become repetitive, or become about as relevant as your local, television newscast.

I've tried to keep myself on a weekly schedule. Surely there is something that happens during the week that would spur the synapsis to firing. This week? I guess not.

I got nothin'.

But isn't that okay? I mean, from the perspective of the reader, would you really want to waste your precious time reading something of little-to-no value? I wouldn't think so. I surely wouldn't. (That's twice I've used the word "surely", and I'm sure there is at least one of you out there quoting Leslie Nielsen right now.)

So, this week I am not going to waste your time having you read something that I haven't had the courtesy to formulate into intelligent thoughts; having expounded such thoughts into the written word medium of your choice. Nope. Not going to do it. Wouldn't be prudent. Not at this juncture.

Maybe next week, when I (hopefully) have something to say. Until then, I'll refrain from writing a blog this week.

© Emittravel 2015