"our daily red"

It's a good name for a wine.
If I could imagine communion as something more than a cup of grape juice and a cracker...
More of a fellowship of remembering our Saviour, as we drink and break bread together.
As we love our neighbors as ourselves.
As we love our enemies.

There are so many things in me that need changing, and how wonderful it is that the One who changes me and molds my body of clay has never changed... not once.

Perfection.
So I come... with out a thing. Not for Your blessings, Your gifts.... just for You...

IF.

Strange...

Sometimes we move more slowly than we would agree to move at any earlier point in our lives.
We would go back and the "us" of a few years, a few months, a few days ago even; The "us" would proceed to beat the "we" over the head with
what we have, still, yet to accomplish.
My goodness, whatever do we use our time for?
For ourselves? For one another? For pleasures? For pains?
How do I stop myself from digging holes and placing myself so eagerly in them, these... The Ruts of life.

But we move along.
Oh we move along.
Whether it be by our continual digging, or by our Father's gracious hand.
I swear I will always see the golden streets.
Though I sometimes close my eyes. I understand there is true Joy, and in this life, with it's slows and fasts,
I cling to the everlasting Hope of being wrapped in the brightest light of glory.

I continue my vague plot of words.
It's nice to just say.
It's more beautiful to remain silent.

12:04am, You will not live forever.
!But I will!

Sing sweet songs. Challenge yourself. Seek.
Seasons change, surely, I will grow.

close your eyes.

National Holiday.
First Day of Work.
Sounds to me as it should be an oxi-moron.
Nonetheless, today is the day.
I wake, according to Bob this time.
Eat my breakfast. The Smart Start seems to do the trick for now.
Read the Word. Still trudging through Leviticus. Still God is wonderful.
I iron my Green "Special Olympics Arkansas" Collared shirt.
My Teethe are brushed and flossed.
My lunch is sitting safely in a can in a bowl. Alongside, a bag of pitachios, a banana, and a spoon sit comfortably.

I wait. 10:27am.

10:28am
10:29am

I always want to avoid the uncomfortable.
10:30am.

and I'm off.

Sugar.
Slowing in my veins.
A racecar running out of gas.
A heart, tired from the stiff tug of truth in love.
I'll fall asleep soon. Curl up in to my double-sized bed .Three pillows, only one of which I will actually use.
Left side, back. Right side, back. Left side seems to do the trick most of the time.
Or at least it seems to be what I remember last as I pour myself slowly into a night of dream-filled sleep.
Dreams.... One reel after another of the most auspicious and, at the same time, most daunting images...thoughts... Whatever you would dub them. Driving my car off a bridge the size of the golden gate, knowing full well that I will die. Having a gun put to my head and the trigger being pulled, yet I don't wake; I see my dead body lying there as I float into the sky (I suppose it's nice that I was floating up?).
On a lighter note, the pleasantries of a bit of time with a face fully created in your brain. Finding love. The pot of gold. Flying. Falling and physically jumping up from sleep to catch myself (my favorite). and on and on!
After all of this, my alarm. Bob Dylan never seemed so.... unpleasant. 9:20am.
I don't have to wake up yet. I'll look about my room, listen for what's going on about the house, and fall back into sleep. Back to my dreams, no matter how nasty, how lovely, how empty. Back to my dreams. Sometime later
I'll wake. I'll pour myself a bowl of cereal. The Honey Bunches of Oats is gone...Looks like the old Raisin Bran is all I've got.
I'll pull out my Bible and read. Leviticus tomorrow. I've heard it's boring. There's a point to it. Something that I may see? There's something beautiful in the words, in the colors, the craft......

As I think of my Love. I am sure of my hope. I am sure of my future. I am sure.
Though it seems that sometimes, my heart sinks. My voice softens and my words are few.
My Love is always new. Sending me through today full of His goodness.
As I think of my Love. My spirit is soothed. My heart is calmed.
Be in my dreams.

Tomorrow, if I wake, I will be thankful. I will see that (as had been said) all is full of Love.

As the Artist. He signed His name to it all...
At the first ray of sunrise, the brilliance of a starlit night, those eyes that smile, in song, in the wind, the majesty of a mighty mountain.... everything good.

Midnight and a half.
I want my jaw to be comfortable.
My tired eyes are ready for a wonderful night.

Seasons change. I will grow.