The Long Way Up

tones of grief, epitome of shame half-wrought  notes : apology or blame throw the stone — regret — into the deep on the edge, the onset very steep share the baggage, every single weight but unload and shear before too late silent burden hears a lot and more scurrying like hares upon the floor steal the thunder and obscure the light slip them tales of fake and frigid might wipe the board clean; write it on a slate stale or recent; do not hesitate smile , go on like everything’s afloat keep it neat; there’s slime under the moat don’t be dour, sour from these limes   miles to go; there will be sleeping time

Feel free to judge me Go on, expose your heart Point your self-righteous finger If you really want to start Make your estimations Conjecture all you like In the end, it’s not my vocals Blaring on the mic Feel free to judge me You’re perfect, I presume Your character’s in order That's what I would assume Or maybe check the mirror For specks inside your eye Don’t worry ‘bout my vision I take care of my sight Feel free to judge me But keep it to yourself If I do not solicit Then I don’t need your help Respect is quite essential Like distancing and masks If I'm in need of wisdom Then I would surely ask Feel free to judge me But better judge your own Let them that do not have sin Be first to cast a stone I'm not your goodwill project Can’t read my heart and mind You do not know my story So don’t be rude; be kind Feel free to judge me I’m beloved by my Lord He will rightly defend me Be careful with your sword Do not do unto others What’s not been done to you Let God be Judge and ...

Since the dawn of human history, mankind has always had the inclination to want to know as much as they can about many things… important things… everything! There seems to have always been an insatiable hunger to attain awareness pertaining — and even peripheral — to whatever exists under the sun, occurs on the earth, and eludes logical explanation. In fact, in centuries of human civilization, the accumulation of cognizance has always been equated to the aggregation of might, and those who have gained vast amounts of awareness have more often than not inclined toward brandishing and wielding information to their own advantage and success. The old adage, ‘ knowledge is power ,’ has — for better or for worse — been proven true time and again throughout history. One does not even have to look into recorded historical facts of how Adolf Hitler’s knowledge of the theory of evolution and ‘the survival of the fittest’ led him and the Nazis to discriminate, segregate, and terminate thousands o...

Don’t think about it too much Just write your thoughts on the page as they come You know they’ve been piled up, scattered all over, and cooped up in your brain Let them out; let your mind breathe; give your thoughts more space Acknowledge everything that has been and release them Give your emotions exposure to the light of day Who knows what might come your way once you do You’ve thought about how much you’ve missed going to movies With friends like Archie, Mike, or one of the men you’ve mentored You’ve pondered about life perhaps not ever going back to what it used to be Certain that you do not want to revert to some of the old things Unsure of letting the others go You’ve thought about the utmost importance of times of solitude Especially when spent in the presence of God You’ve realized even more how valuable face-to-face interactions with people are The priceless moments you’ve invested into the lives of others way before all this happened And the future times you’ve yet to spend o...

One man debate An argument defined Hashing out the issue With me, myself and I One desires loneness The other, company Conflict now arising The third one, symmetry One man debate An argument prolonged Escalating problems In speech, in prose, in song One highlighting drama The other, tragedy Channeling the Greeks now The third sees comedy One man debate An argument to cease Locked within his own self And his soliloquies One solution: counsel Another: time and space The other: flip a new page And run at his own pace

It's cold and dim and no one really sees All that transpires inside this sphere Just a little patience and mercy, please While one deals with these anxious fears Some things flicker here and there But none too bright to rouse satiation These eyes have looked almost everywhere But none yet meets expectation Perpetually embracing an elusive muse Entangled in pursuit of distant dreams Hope fatigued but still in use Pushing forth through turgid streams Swirls of postulations hardly condense Indefinitely paused but intentionally ceased Someday when comes the recompense All tensions will be calmed, all fussing eased Peaks and valleys, highs and lows Nothing is stagnant, as everything moves Forward and onward: that's always the flow Survive then thrive, as all this will prove For now belief and stand reiterate Let seeing eye not be the only guide On truth and good and love meditate Stay on...

There is a need to state a few things more For a host of feelings and musings sore I'll say them soberly though not quite covertly I'm glad that we met until you tried to subvert me Ms. Understand, we couldn't see eye to eye My hands extended kindness but you went for a lie Not all affinities are subterfuge for some huge thing Now all's been drowned by a deluge of fawning Ms. Communicate, please think before you speak Your voice is too loud but your argument is weak The goodwill you've painstakingly tried to convey Came off rather sour as with all else you say Ms. Guided, you should have really thought first Look before you leap, or else get into more hurt No one made you a promise or gave you their heart You rolled the dice, missed a ladder, slid back to the start Ms. Interpret, you read me all wrong I had no secret agenda, but your game was strong Insisted there was something in my actions and words...

I could be bitter But I want to be better I want to be still, abide Be left intact in Love's abode I could all your mistakes accent But you as mortal I accept I could begrudge your faulty quest But in my heart come be my guest I have in lowly tryst just waited Believing all my faith's not wasted I want to shout it in a whisper Because I need this woe to whimper I could exact in full revenge But I loathe hate as revenue I will in trust refuse the torment Because in comes a blessed torrent I will get by with smile and whistle Believing hostiles will somehow whittle I will protest in justice wordless But I in hope not be workless

I don't demand much from people, if I do at all. I'm typically easygoing and really not hard to please once you get to know me. Anger doesn't come as easily to me as offense does, but even then a subsequent response comes as a carefully thought out proceeding. I do not hastily respond when I am angry, as I prefer to weigh my words first before launching them from my mouth because once they're spoken, there's no taking them back. So when people come at me with repeated disrespect and condescension, I think it is but fitting that I put my foot down and speak my mind, especially when blatant disrespect is done repeatedly and in the presence of others. Never mind that I'm a pastor; that part can be disregarded, as far as I'm concerned. But if the other party can not, will not, or does not have the capacity to exercise good discretion, extend basic honoring to another human, and express respect to a fellow believer, I would most likely be provoked to g...

The imagery of dark-skinned Africans bound hand and foot by iron chains, shepherded into big wooden ships by their pale-complexioned captors, taken to distant lands as merchandise sold to the highest bidders, put to hard labor against their will without any compensation, and suffering abuse and injustice from cruel task masters may be a long-forgotten visual aid of the atrocious nature of human slavery, but the essence of it has lost none of its potency. We may not all be bound by chains, but we are all bound by something, whether we admit it or not. We are all tied to at least one thing that we either refuse to let go of, or another that refuses to let go of us. We may live in a day and age where blatant enslavement seems to be a thing of the past, but we are in fact living in a world where slavery -- in its so many varied forms -- is still in full swing. Cha-ching! Some of us are bound hand and foot by the chains of financial and material pursuits. We gain the whole wo...

Arctic fever Blizzard sky Cryo eyes out Drizzled dry Ether grasping Frigid cold Grizzled feelings Haggard, old Icy pick ups Just as well Kill me softly Livid spells Mouth is fogging Nothing's heard Oscillating Putrid words Quickly freezing Running scared Somehow standing Thawing there Underwhelming Vapid mode Winter mongers Xenophobes Yeah... we're done here! Zzzzzz...

There are many days in my line of work when I get to do little to no work at all. These kinds of days allow me to write (more) and relax. However, the opposite of that are days that are way too hectic: schedules that are too close in proximity to one another; ministry that needs to be done in the same week; trips that happen in succession. This week, I'm looking at only three work days but it actually feels so hectic and loaded. I had just come from a three-day vacation in the southern part of the country, which really got me refreshed and excited about life again; but as I hit the ground running on the first of my three-day-work-week, I was met with a lot of pastoral concerns and membership issues that had me scratching my head, yet still feeling grateful that I had those three vacation days to get recharged. Then, on the same day, Tuesday, I had to bring a new set of believers to the rehabilitation facility where we usually have a Monday a month to serve; I had to ...

Sometimes it may only take a few encounters with another person to get a working knowledge about them: casual initial get-togethers, frequent run-ins in intersecting social circles, and occasional (literal) face time in front of (or beside) each other. In the last few months, our local church has had the privilege of personally getting acquainted with one of the country's more formidable and recognizable thespians. He has been in show business since his teens, has had a steady stream of acting gigs, and, by some twist of fate, has ended up on the shores of our island... and the doorstep of our congregation. Although in the past we have had people from all walks of life with varying degrees of notoriety and controversy come into the four walls of our building and (somehow, over time) into the corners of our hearts, this man's entry into our spiritual family was a bit more dramatic, metaphorically speaking: his big reputation has obviously preceded him (being a famous pers...

A young woman stands on the shoreline of her island home and stares out into the horizon. Every day she repeats this ritual of looking far beyond the reach and beaches of her shores, wondering what the distance hid from her eyes. Her body language displays a deep set longing in her heart to wander off her isolated residence and explore the wider dimensions of a world she's barely begun to know. "See the line where the sky meets the sea... it calls me!" She sings. And she sighs. And she longs for so much more. In the film, Moana, the title character voices out what perhaps many of us are silently crying out: what's next? What's beyond the line that I so want to cross? When will I get to cross it, if at all? The human heart seems to be inclined to thrive on the unquenchable, insatiable, unending longing for things that are yet out of reach and beyond our grasp. The irony of it all is that once the line has been crossed and the longing quelled, another...

You were told to love others And teach them to obey You were told to be gracious And merciful each day You were told to show humility And impartiality But I am just a bit dumbfounded; Please enlighten me Why do you play accuser? Why won't you just sit still? When you don't see the big whole Just the holes you wish to fill You spew forth deadly daggers Without a second thought That role is someone else's It'll just bring you to rot Why are you playing judge now? Your sense of justice skewed You seem to be lopsided Decided but confused Perhaps you should be judging Your life instead of mine Because, all things considered, We fall short all the time Why do you play condemner? It's such a deadly game. Unless you're full-time partner In league with devil's fame You really want to do right, Do good, see justice done? Then, leave it to the Perfect, The Righteous, Holy One! Why are you doing his job? The devil's good at th...

I have no idea how other preachers do it,  but I most of the time find composing my 'sermons' very challenging. Perhaps my assumption that a more didactic method might not be as captivating as an impassioned discourse is the main hurdle when I draft my pulpit 'lessons': people do seem to gravitate towards spontaneous, charismatic and fiery preachers. Another reason for this difficulty in getting a message prepared is the desire to hear what God wants His people to hear for a particular service. I have always tried my best to speak on topics that I sense God is telling me to speak on, so using my spiritual ears becomes a necessary exercise. What slows me down, though, is second-guessing: is this really the topic God wants? Or is this just me wanting to teach on this issue? Still another challenge is the organization of the ideas and themes of the intended lesson. As the saying goes, there is more than one way to skin a cat; and with preaching (or in my case, t...

Leave some room for all to be quelled Let time in, immersing the pain Permit love and lenitive spells Punctured heart will breathe once again Find your space to ease into hurt Face the music, adage would state Meditate on what you are worth Much more soothing, healing than hate Grieve! It is good; let it all out Gather your soul into one cup Alleviate all of your doubts Answers will come; just don't give up Oil for joy, pour it on down Overwhelming offenses soaked Balm for the scar and for the frown Strength inside brokenness, cloaked

I wonder what causes grumpiness in people. Is it their genetic makeup? Is it their circumstances? A combination of both? As of this writing, I have been given the opportunity of performing night nurse duties to one of the young men in one of my Bible study groups who has been in the hospital now for five days. The guy in question (let's call him Sunny) is already in his 20s and on a regular basis -- when we're together -- I always see him carry a calm, mostly reserved demeanor... akin to my own. Although Sunny sometimes throws around typical teenage banter with some of the guys in my small group, he is nevertheless a person whose character leans more towards the docile side of things. So as I report for my hospital duty, I got greeted by a scenario that I would usually find awkward: a little family spat. Sunny was displaying signs of grumpiness: irritation with his mother who was just assisting him get around, and annoyance with his sister who came by to see him....

Labels are fables that do not define Swagger and daggers, not fancies of mine Bludgeoned in dungeons, mistook for a swine All just because I was born as a guy "Swinger!" A ringer for my gender's sake Players and haters rub off their mistakes "Single, go mingle!" "Your smile must be fake." "It's 'cause you're a man!" Please give me a break! Tempests, the tempted go out on the prowl Hunting the hunted -- the damsels -- like fowl Using, abusing their strength with a scowl And I, a guy... should I throw in the towel? Handsome and then some: he must be a cad Silent and private: intentions are bad Friendly: he's deadly in deception clad This man wasn't raised that way by his dad! Yet truly and duly brothers have erred Eons of peons, and casual words Painted and tainted the masculine herd I am just a guy enlightened and stirred Paltry,...

My life has it own set of ironies and conundrums that have left me scratching my head for a long time. Ironies like why a guy like me gets thrust into positions of leadership. I'm not naturally commanding as a person, and I don't ask much from people, which is the very reason I'm still wondering why I have been put in charge of certain leadership responsibilities in the last eight years of my life. In my estimation, there are other, more qualified people out there who'd fit the leadership mold far better than I ever could: individuals who are goal-oriented, results-oriented, program-oriented, or career-oriented; people who are dripping with so much charisma and authority that they'd have multitudes hanging on their every word and eating out of their hand; men and women who know every twist and turn of the whole "follow-my-lead" routine. And then there's people like me: people who always feel ill at ease when it comes to urging people to fall in ...