Yes

Right now, I am supposed to be reflecting quietly.  Reflecting on this theme of "Yes."  I am thinking back to all the times I have said "no" instead.  For whatever reason, I cannot think of the times I have said yes, but I can remember the times I have said "No."  Probably not a good thing.

Or maybe I say yes often, too?  I don't know.  I do know that I want to say "yes" to the Lord more.  Daily I want to say yes to my death and yes to the resurrection through Jesus.  I have a sick heart.  I know it.  I know when people are well.  I can see it.  When people are just full of life.  There is something fresh about them, something that reeks of life.  They have died.  They have been resurrected.  Its such a joyful thing to see...to have.  I long for that resurrection.  I long for that death.

Renew me, Lord.  Kill the sin in me.  Save the sinner I am.

Amen.

old gospel

I don't really have anything to say.  I had a blog my freshman year of college.  That doesn't really count though seeing as I was told to have one.  I figured I might as well have one now...especially now that I am grown up and more mature. Psyche...I'm just bored as hell.  And an idle hand...something something satan.  And that's not what I want...

I've tried listening to old Gospel Bluegrass while I'm working in hopes that it brings me peace.  It's been good...still hasn't brought me peace.  I think it makes me sad.  It makes me miss my grandparents.  It makes me miss my Papaw.  My Papaw was a sinner, just like me.  He loved a cold beer, a lit cigarette, a cb radio, a good joke, Sunday gospel/bluegrass music, and most importantly my Mamaw.

I remember when she died.  We were all around her bedside crying, hugging each other, holding her hand...and he said, "Leave her alone, now.  She ain't here anymore."  At first you hear that and think "that's a little harsh," but it was true.  True in the sense that she isn't here anymore.  And then 2 weeks later, he wasn't here anymore.  I cried at my Mamaw's funeral.  But I wept at my Papaw's.  

He had been suffering from all kinds of things while my Mamaw had been going through her final days.  Love.  We were none the wiser.  He had (I'm going to sound it out because I can't spell it) "Em-Fuh-Z-Ma" and liver damage from his best friend, Budweiser.  Atleast, that's what they diagnosed him with.  We all knew that wasn't it.  The man died from a broken heart.  Gah, I miss them.  I think almost unconsciously I've been in a funk because I just miss them.  The holidays are great still... I have a new family.  I just miss my old family. 

Lord,


If you read blogs, know that I am still bitter about that.  Know that while I know you are crazy about me, that you have provided for me in so many ways (especially the past year), and that you are with me when I wake...I'm still a little pissed.  Now, I know you can't bring them back and if you're willing, I'll see them again, but I hate that they're gone.  I try to comfort myself by saying that after a life well lived there is a reward in death, but that really doesn't help.


All that to say...I'm glad that I can freely express how I feel towards you without you getting pissed.  Forgive me, a sinner. I need peace.  Thank you for my wife.  She is grace.

Amen