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Historical Humility
I’m currently enjoying Theology in the Democracy of the Dead, by Matt Jensen, a former professor of mine from the Torrey Honors College and a fellow (though much more accomplished) St. Andrew’s alum. First of all, I highly recommend this read, as it offers a comprehensive yet relatively brief look into the lives and work Continue reading
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Accompanist: Part 1
When I began to work professionally as a musician, the term “accompanist” was beginning to be replaced by “collaborative pianist.” This was intended to acknowledge pianists as equals with directors and soloists. I appreciated this shift, but, at the same time, was never ashamed of being an accompanist. In fact, as soon as I began Continue reading
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The Wages of Sin are the DMV
By far the most aggravating thing about moving cross-country is dealing with local government—the most troublesome of all being the motor vehicle department. After several mornings of battling baffling websites, decade-long hold lines, and paperwork with inexplicable spaces, I cried out in despair…and then, I had an epiphany. The DMV is a consequence of humanity’s Continue reading
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Pruned: A Parable
In a garden in the desert there was a tree. She was beautiful, lush and healthy and growing with a swiftness unknown to most desert plants. She had been planted in good soil and her roots drank deeply from a nearby stream. One day, the Gardener was walking along the stream. As he went, he Continue reading
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A Lifelong Engagement
My fiancé and I opted for a three month engagement. He actually proposed exactly three months prior to our wedding date—even to the hour! However, when we tell people that we are planning to be married on July 9th, their eyes widen as they reply with the inevitable, “Of this year?!” I understand. Prior to Continue reading
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Starvation
I’ve written before about my past struggles with eating and body image. One of the most valuable lessons I learned through this issue, though, is this: The starving man (or woman) does not always know that he is hungry. The starving man does not always know that he is hungry. When hunger is ignored long Continue reading
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VIII. The Demon-Possessed Boy (9:14-29)
Horrors.There is no other wordFor the things I have seen,And sat helplessly by—Useless. My own son, ripped from my armsBy a force I could not fight. But I am his father!Guilt stabs at me like a knife,But how can I defend him whenThe enemy, the invaderMakes war from within? My own flesh and blood,My beloved, Continue reading
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VII. The Blind Man (8:22-26)
Touch me, someone,That I might know you’re there! Greet me, anyone,So I am not aloneIn this dark, dark, darkness. I am begging,Begging for more than foodOr loose coins. It is light that I am starving for—The light of a presenceA light to show me outOf this eternal, internalDarkness. My heart yearnsEach morning and evening—Both are Continue reading
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VI. The Deaf Man (7:31-37)
I cannot tellWhat these gestures mean.Why do you all waveYour hands at me? I can only guess atThe words on your lipsAnd can only makeVain attemptsTo do as you do,To speak as you speak. By your wrinkled browsAnd worried looks,I know I am failing. I fail also to understand.Where are you taking me?Who is this man? Continue reading
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IV. The Leper (1:40-45)
Unclean,I hide myself.Lest I am seenAnd sent away,Purged from the cityWhile dogs and rats are allowedTo stay and hide in its alleys, Infect its crevices. But they sayI am unclean.I do not argue;I am one of the twice-cursed onesWho cannot hide his sinsBeneath a cloak ofSmooth, clear skin,The whitened sepulchreOf an unblemished face. I am Continue reading
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III. Jairus’ Daughter (5:35-43)
As so often happens, life took priority over poetry. Indeed, I fear this is one of the reasons I am not destined to be the next Wordsworth or Dickinson; I am too quick to set my writing aside. Still, it is a least a little to my credit that I never abandon my writing forever! Continue reading
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I. The Man with the Withered Hand (Mark 3:1-6)
My bones ache with hunger.My eyes strain from seeking.But seeking what? Waiting for what?For nothing,For who would help me today?This is the sad irony of the Lord’s Day. Synagogues bustle and pockets are heavy,But hearts remain empty—Even more empty than my hand, For at least I would seek to fill mine. Another sad irony.I cannot.I Continue reading
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