Spilt Wine

It appears to me, that when one draws near to God, you cant but help the fact that His light exposes your darkness. I barely can look at myself in the dark, but to have light shining upon you, it can be unbearable. I usually have a hard time with this, but I am OK with this today. I am OK, because I am not alone. Along with His light shinning into the dark, cold corners of my life and heart, my friends stand there too, with their flashlights and dust rags. Ready to help dust off the cobwebs.

Help me clean my house, and I will help you clean yours.

Hey there little boy,
Whatcha you going to do?
Don't you cry,
or your gona turn blue.
Don't you worry about nothing today,
for tomorrow will become yesterday.

Hey there little Cinderella,
where is it that you are headed?
What was it that you wished for?
Do you ever wish you could turn it around?

What's your name old man.
Tell me all that you have learned.
Show me your scars and tell me about your pain.
Pour yourself into this glass.
So that I may drink it, and savor your losses.

Hey there little what boy,
What am I going to do?

His paradise is also his personal hell.
He embraces his addiction for the shallow comfort is provides.
He drinks every bottle to the last drop looking for comfort at the bottom.
When it is not there, he tries another, as if looking for the winning cap on a soda bottle.
When he wakes, he is not only still hurting in the heart, but also in the head, so he starts over again.

"They don’t really like you" he hisses in my ear.
Discouragement he plants in my heart with tiniest of seeds.
My weakness’ have become his strengths.
"Drink more my friend, it is all that will make you feel good" he tells me.
His weight upon my back has become so heavy.
This wicked Demon Monkey has to go.

He is not always a monkey on my back, but he is also a lion in my closet, crouched and waiting to devour me.
I have seen him, his stature is like of a starved gray hound, but much, much bigger.
So thin, you see and count his ribs.
His coat of fur is a dirty orange color and his eyes are the color of yellow piss. The eyes that stared me down were lit with the fire of hate. His growl was a low rumble and his scream was ear piercing.

Champion Failure I was born to be.
Always picked last, always batted 9th.
Always put in Left field.
Always striking out.

All my races were ran from behind.
Skinny tired legs could never run fast enough.
Little feet ran oh so slow.
There never seems to be enough air.
So I stopped to breath.

The more I tried, the more I failed.
The more I got up, the more I fell.

Visalia

We felt like we ruled this town of ours.
We had no bounds.
The Sticks, Cut Foot, Party Barn, and the Palms,
Five Oh, here he comes!
Keystone Ice in the trunk.
We were sure to get drunk.
Drinking in the dark corners of city parks.
When it was a hundred and six at ten o’clock.
Dancing the night away at the Marco Polo.
One night Jay went to jail.
Back yard parties, when parents were out of town.
With fake ID’s, we were apart of the Shag-nasty crowd.
Chasing girls we adored.
All while listening to the Door’s.

Early dawn, His mother and Mary Magalene went to His tomb to anoint Him. As they approached two soldiers who were guarding the tomb, another earth quake occurred. They franticly scattered for cover as the earth shook violently. Before panic could set in, they saw something bright like lightning. An angle had descended. His garments were as white as snow. The angle glowed so bright, the soldiers and both Marys could barley look at the angle. The Angle then rolled away the stone that blocked the entrance of Jesus’ tomb and sat upon it. The guards shook with fear and became petrified. The angle then spoke to the women. “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for the Jesus who has been crucified. He is not here, for He has risen just as He said, come see the place where He was lying.” “Now go quickly and tell His disciples that He has risen from the dead”

With great fear and joy, they ran faster than they ever had before. Tears running down their checks, hearts beating hard and fast, gasping for the cool morning air, they ran as fast as they could. When they finally arrived to where the others where mourning and weeping, Mary Magalene yelled the good news. “He is alive, Jesus is alive” she yelled. Refusing to believer her, they became angry at her. ‘Come and see yourselves” she challenged them.

When they all arrived to the tomb, they found it to be empty, as Mary had reported. Peter picked up and examined the linen wrappings and face cloth, but did not understand the prophesy of risen Christ. So they all left, leaving Mary weeping at the tomb.

Then a voice from behind her said “ Women, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?”

Without looking up, she replied, “Sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have laid Him, and I will take Him away.

The voice then replied “Mary!”

Her heart jumped and she lost her breath at the same time. It was Him, the one whom she loved! Jumping to her feet, crying out “ Rabbonie!” only to fall back on to her knees in an uncontrollable weep, latching on to His legs.

“Stop clinging to me, For I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to My brethren and say to them, I ascended to My Father and your Father, and My God and your God.”


He shall crush your head, as you bruise His heel. -Genesis 3:15

The next day the sun rose like it did everyday before. The day seemed to be just like any other day, but it was different. A feeling of defeat was hanging over the city. Confusion was everywhere. People with heavy hearts went on with their day, lost in their thoughts. The few words that people spoke that day, were of Him. As people cleaned up after the earth quake, they wondered if the quake was a sign of God’s displeasure over the crucifying of Jesus. For the most part, the days activities went on as usual. Soldiers walked the streets, to ensure that the people of Jerusalem knew their place as a territory of Rome.

Those who new Him, woke up, hoping yesterday was just a horrible dream. Their eyes burning from lack of sleep and crying. Their hearts empty, a feeling of panic was upon them, not knowing what to do or where to go next. The hope that so many people had held on to was taken away form them. The one person, who they believed would save all, the one they found peace and comfort in, was gone, killed by the government that oppressed them. How foolish they felt, thinking that one man could bring a Kingdome back to Israel.

Within the city, two men wrestled to find peace. Not understanding, what had taken place, they quested their actions and turmoil stirred within them. Nicodemus was compelled to help bury this man the day before. Now, he kept thinking of the image of the bloody body he help bury, and of the night he had met with Jesus. Thinking over and over again what Jesus had said to him, still unable to make sense of it. Was it a riddle?

And Pilate, who sat on his throne worried that punishment would fall upon him for his part of the death of a man he had found no guilt in. An awkwardness was between him and his wife, both saying very little to each other.

Confusion, O Lord, divide their tongues, for I have seen violance and strife in the city. Day and night they go around her upon her walls; and inquity and mischief are in her midst. Destruction is in her midst; oppression and deceit do not depart from her streets. - Psalm 55: 9-11

Early one particular morning, the air was still. There was a surreal calmness. Something was not right, something was unsettling. The day was dark, oh so dark, as if it was taken out of a nightmare. Something horrible was happening. There was a war wagging, though know one could see it. No peace would be found on this day of battle.

He cried until he could not cry anymore. His heart was broken over and over again. Agony that was beyond comprehension was upon Him. He had not slept from the night before, He barely had the strength to stand. After a long morning of physical and verbal abuse he was delivered up to a cross.
On the tree of pain he hung. With a sip of sour wine, he toasted “ It is finished”

He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities: The chastening for our well-being fell upon him, and by His scouring we are healed- Isaiah 53:5

12:30 am, I lay in bed under a silk comforter. The blue comforter was ordered from Victoria Secrets years ago, for our wedding night. Still soft, silky and warm, but, it is different now. TV still on, which aluminates the room with a green light. Sun clock on the wall ticking away like it always does, but it is different now. It is not as annoying anymore. Laying next to Audrey, she is different now. From girlfriend, to fiancé, to spouse to mother. Baby sleeps silently in her crib. All so different, all so good, all so peaceful at that moment.

I have been thinking, do we ever really change? At first I thought this fatherhood thing had changed me. Then, today at Walmart, I realized that I have not changed. I have grown, or maybe expanded a bit, but not changed. The same goes with my faith. It has grown me, but not changed me. Wouldn’t it be great if whenever something new that was good came into your life, you could throw out something old and bad? You know, replace the bad with the good. Unfortunately, I think when good comes, the bad still stays. Maybe my goal should be let the good out weigh the bad, rather than changing from bad to good.