tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66282363255659787982024-02-07T04:08:30.517-08:00Espresso Me SlowlyFor the part of me that, every now and then, needs to escape.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.comBlogger106125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-21914085895845953872014-01-21T17:53:00.003-08:002014-04-25T13:58:02.948-07:00I will love your insecurities with the fire and endurance of old, fireplace stories.<br />
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I will love your passions with all my curiosity and courage, so that wherever you tread I will stride and stumble alongside. <br />
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I will love you with all graceful weakness and secret strength and you will know and I will know that I can never stop.<br />
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<br />Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-28829649170364321552013-12-09T19:36:00.002-08:002013-12-09T19:37:57.573-08:00I have nowhere else to write this, but this novel is simply, one of the most beautiful I have read in a very long time.<br />
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I cannot remember when I have felt so familiar in sharing fears and hopes and understandings of misunderstandings, in that curious childhood naivete that begs for answers though one does not yet know the question. To be immersed in a world that resounds with such great likeliness to my own childhood, though one is found in a modern America, and another in a rural Sussex.<br />
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I see a boy, led by curiosity, loneliness, a seeking wisdom and naive heart who finds a girl, more mature yet impetuous in her own youth and in both of their confidences and fears fall into danger. Ultimately, the boy chooses a path he believes is the simple, right thing to do, sacrificing his heart. And the girl, in her anguish, sacrifices her heart to save his.<br />
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The boy grows up, his life at the cost of the girl's, always an unanswered question if it was worth the sacrifice. And as he grows older, wiser, or perhaps when he finds himself the loneliest and most childlike, his heart starts to emerge and grow again. And the girl waits.<br />
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This story is finished, and it finishes on hope and the deep knowledge that there is and will be more.<br />
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A reflection of the important women in our lives: The wise mother, the caring wife, the first trust. <br />
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She sacrificed herself to save me.<br />
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One of the most beautiful novels I have read that carries us into the hopes and fears, curiosities and trusts of our youth, absent or despite the desires, ambitions and lusts of adulthood.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-45789568063688722122013-05-31T15:22:00.001-07:002013-05-31T15:22:49.823-07:0030When my time has come and gone, when my passions have faded to memory, say not that I was glorious or brave, say not that I was fierce or strong. Instead look upon the spread of my life and find me capable. Find that all things I have done, I have done well. See that all adventures I've traversed, all people I've led, all paths crossed that I did so with a broken humility and a capable will. At the end when my words fade look upon my walk and say that I discovered Capability and dared to live it all of my days.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-41035047061984993302013-05-31T15:20:00.000-07:002013-06-06T10:17:06.194-07:00Cloud's Rest 5/24/2013When I ascended the last few hundred feet of snow-capped rock to stand 10,000 feet above the deep valleys and roaring falls I expected to find God in my strength, to find direction at the height of my travels. I thought that when I came here, where clouds rest and sky breathes I would be met with a driving fire. And as I walked from behind my companions, to stand tallest and furthest before falling upon my knees I yearned and I strained for that quiet, thundering Voice to fill me, break me, lead me. I did not expect silence. I heard the wind and I heard the sun and I heard glory call but I did not hear Your voice and every weary fiber of me roared for it, demanded it until my heart was hoarse. Finally I stood up, 10,000 feet above noise and life and turned around. And it wasn't until then, until I turned around, climbed back over ancient rock to stand in the midst of my companions that I finally heard. I heard my brother and my cousin, my friends old and new and my love, weary and broken and fiercely proud. I heard laughter and pride and accomplishment and camaraderie waiting here before me on this lonely stretch of rock because they dared to trust me and dared to accompany me. And here I hear Your Voice sing.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-88505785586310213632013-05-31T15:09:00.003-07:002013-05-31T15:09:39.051-07:00Cathedral Lake 5/26/2013I remember running feet and brisk mountain air, the smell of damp moss heady and sweet as the glint of clear, emerald streams flicker at the corners of my eyes. I remember those rising steps with rising breath as I climb the last few stretches of grey rock to stand tall above the breach...and see. See magnificence. See a heartbreaking beauty that sparkles with a deep, roaring blue as snow-drenched hills stand proud in the distance. Rich green trees dot the shore as far as the eye can glimpse and beyond that the promise of soaring peaks call to me, welcome me, dare me. This is adventure I see, this is beauty I find and my breath is stolen to dance with pure delight upon the shimmering waters before me.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-68332719266661251082013-01-21T22:56:00.001-08:002013-01-21T22:56:25.862-08:00Where are the words that once teemed so fierce, to strive and break against my lips? Where are the words that thrumming burst from inked fingers to thrive, gleefully, desperately, purposely upon white parchment?<div>
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I think they have been subdued into silence, chained by reality and a forlorn weariness. It's a meager fire that once remembers thoughts of golden glory. Can we be two at once, you and I both mentor and student, both learning and leading, both past and future. </div>
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Where is the present? I am tired. But not beaten. I remember whispers, and I remember you. </div>
Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-48525241609016631892012-12-01T23:11:00.000-08:002012-12-01T23:11:48.241-08:00He pulled up quickly through the scattered rain, wheels crunching over faded white parking lines. Without turning off his engine he quickly ducked out of the car, shoulders hunched against the biting cold. There, standing oblivious, or perhaps uncaring in the harsh headlights that still flared from the running car an old man stood, back bowed beneath his dirty windbreaker. Worn flannel met a pair of weathered jeans and when the man running through the rain called his attention the old man turned, mouth agape in the beginnings of a surprised smile.<br />
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Flustered, the running man from the running car waved a handful of dollars in the air and held it out. "Here...I found some money for you."<br />
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His voice trailed off as the weathered old man almost unconsciously took the money, surprise in his eyes. The running man stammered "God bless...good luck.." and with an uncertain smile, quickly turned around to get back in his car and pull out of the faded parking spot.<br />
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As he backed out, he surreptitiously glanced in front at the old man who stood there, still staring forward uncomprehendingly before slowly blinking down at the wrinkled dollars he held in one hand.<br />
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The running man watched in his rear-view mirror as he drove away, watched as the old man covered his mouth with his open hand and stood head bowed in the rain. The car drove away, and in the far distance as it turned a corner the old man in the old windbreaker and old flannel still stood there, hand over mouth, head bowed down. His other hand clutched 4 dollars.<br />
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The man who was no longer running wish he had asked his name. We who have so much.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-37786977274595486862012-07-24T10:35:00.002-07:002012-08-08T22:23:01.150-07:00<br />
In my soul there sits a cup of coffee, poured over ice, sweetly bitter and velvet on the tongue. It sometimes mistakes itself for a glass of wine, always red. Somewhere there is a book, of course. Bound with leather and the scent of nostalgia, filled with alluring secrets and far horizons, it often thinks itself a beautiful woman. Cascading midnight hair carried by beautiful poise and prose, promises of far discoveries and secret gardens all eagerly pulling me into a reverie of introspection. Adventure, plunged in swash-buckle rises in every nook: the yearning hunger for, not the triumph of. Veiled forests of Sherwood compete with forgotten isles of Monte Cristo.<br />
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It lies in that beckoning horizon just over the next bend, one more shared sunset, one more rising storm, one more far-eyed sunrise away.<br />
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<br /></div>Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-55828373192050453472011-06-13T14:28:00.000-07:002011-06-13T14:29:18.914-07:00Hungry<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;">It’s you and me. We have this wind right here and it’s blowing hard I can feel that heat that breath that long, long pause. Don’t see those clouds hazy white don’t see that moon hung so still. Wisps of black around my face, cold breeze brushing against your neck but that breath so warm hungry against my chest, that touch so light, shivering down your back. Sand is soft and waves are light and all you hear is this breath so loud. No holding back no stopping now this long, long moment a hundred cracks, ready to be broken, hushed and hoarse.<br /></span></p>Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-54044954495986703112011-05-31T15:08:00.000-07:002011-05-31T15:30:54.365-07:00ProvidenceGrace separates my sentiments from the churches around me and I feel as if I must always betray one for the other, faith for community while knowing that at the same time that one is never complete without the other. There can't be a balance for this, but an ideal that should never settle, never compromise while at the same time so deeply seated in compassion an ounce of bitterness not be found.<br /><br />Perhaps in that irony it is the quality of their grace that provokes and disgusts me, and the quality of mine that gives it such power over me. This is, and has always been my wall, Christ notwithstanding; to spurn a God who is accompanied by such condescending ignorance is derisively easy. To live and love a God surrounded by it is infinitely harder, but strangely enough...or perhaps not so strangely...my faith has only grown the more adamant for it.<br /><br />Who are you that boasts of Godliness to weep and plead over my salvation, then wield such fear-steeped ignorance on a purpose you have never fathomed?<br /><br />And who am I that claims and clings to tatters of a recycled faith to scoff at the fears and anger of a people that seek comfort more than truth, wallowing in my own condescension? I am no better and no worse, living in a balance when I should be striving for an ideal.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-38742766828509883442011-04-28T16:13:00.001-07:002011-04-28T16:23:26.077-07:00PatienceI luxuriate in Your presence, bathed from head to toe in this warm, cotton-soft glow. It starts delightfully, playfully, spring in step, bubbling somewhere in the corner of me, and then with a gleeful rush fans into a thrumming, vast and roaring, deep and rooted satisfaction. It feels confidently, solidly <span style="font-style: italic;">right, </span>like the firm, living warmth of oak and bark beneath my hands. It feels grounded and it feels good. Purposeful. Intentional. A luxuriating passion that can appreciate and delight in waiting, rolling in an eager contentment for the here and now, yet brave enough to leap at Your call. It's a fullness that beckons life and laughs a heady, wild and daring joy.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-83769281502682556032011-04-20T23:25:00.000-07:002011-04-20T23:29:05.064-07:00beautifulWhen clouds roll like ocean waves<br />ablaze with such golden warmth<br />that beams to touch the jasmine sky<br />and falls to break on days gone by.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-11272525317465107942011-04-05T14:15:00.001-07:002011-04-05T14:19:44.196-07:00FirmHow do others do it? Without You I am lost, floundering in the ragged folds of life and overwhelmed by such beggaring immensity that my forlorn pride becomes my rock, poorly built and poorly hewn as it is.<br />You are this sharp and clear breath I take every 4 beats, clearing my mind and enlarging my soul. I find myself larger, I find myself stronger, I find myself bigger...encompassing all of ...this. Ready, clear and calm and ready.<br /><br />Unfinished.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-24845483134835568932011-03-23T21:45:00.000-07:002011-03-23T21:47:50.913-07:00StandYou are the breath and heart and beat and life of me. I stand in Your footsteps and let the far blue swallow me whole, to break alive and free.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-7354217400481652672011-03-15T14:33:00.001-07:002011-03-15T14:35:26.073-07:00SimpleBecause we are all brothers and sisters.<br /><br /><a href="https://american.redcross.org/site/Donation2?df_id=5051&5051.donation=form1&s_src=RSG00000E000&s_subsrc=waltdisneyco-emp">Donate to the Red Cross for Japan. </a>Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-27243001335761097772011-03-09T12:52:00.001-08:002011-03-09T12:54:11.064-08:00TimeIf right now, you see a question lying in front of you and you do not know what it is, then ask. Click there below, email me, but ask. There's an answer waiting here for you that I have not heard yet but has weighed upon my shoulders for a long while.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-31644033168884696902011-03-07T11:54:00.000-08:002011-03-07T11:59:15.259-08:00I sit here now with the chime of new emails in my ear, that sterile, grey cubicle smell mixing with the steady, never ending click clack of keys on a keyboard and I can't help but think that less than 48 hours ago, I was standing waist deep in rushing, running, white water, digging my feet against the pulling current, arms locked on an uprooted sapling with the wind at my back and that beautiful river roar resounding in my ears. I want to smile and I want to laugh because here and now, it is my secret become my joy.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-14170417573573915392011-02-23T10:35:00.000-08:002011-02-23T10:47:39.127-08:00Bebo NormanWindy, blustery evening the cold wind whips around us.<br />Crackling, leaping fire, weaving warmth around our faces<br />There we sit, feet covered in sand, a silence captured,<br />crashing waves to touch starry nights.<br /><br />"Take my heart and wring it out<br />in Your hands and watch it all collapse.<br />Take Your love and drive it in<br />into my soul and never leave again.<br /><br />Because I am so afraid that I'll find myself alone<br />Looking for a savior, looking for a home.<br />I am so afraid that I'll find myself alone<br />Looking for a savior, looking for a home.<br />So don't leave me here, alone.<br />Don't leave me here, alone.<br /><br />All your hopes and all my pride<br />all this time, to watch it all collide.<br />And everyone seems to say you can work it out<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Under my skin I'm shaking and I can't get out</span><br /><br />I am so afraid that I'll find myself alone<br />Looking for a savior, looking for a home.<br />I am so afraid that I'll find myself alone<br />Looking for a savior, looking for a home.<br />So don't leave me here.<br /><br />It's not what you said, it's all in my head<br />And I throw my anger at You instead<br />Don't give up on me, I want to believe<br />That You'll never leave me because<br />I am so afraid that I'll find myself alone<br />Looking for a savior, looking for a home.<br />I am so afraid that I'll find myself alone<br />Deep into the ages, deep into the fold.<br />I am so afraid that I'll find myself alone<br />Looking for a savior, looking for a home.<br />So don't leave me here, alone.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-3165891650913694952011-02-21T13:42:00.001-08:002011-02-21T13:44:22.161-08:00LonesomeI whisper secrets into your ear that you breathe back on lonesome lips and carry me high to float upon such stunning silence the sunset breaks. I see you far and deep and would take one more step, always one more step.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-22095776140899877522011-02-14T16:15:00.000-08:002011-02-17T22:23:41.754-08:00Along the edgeThe only thing I am fighting are shadows and they stem from the raw core of me. I forget that You are honor and integrity, a moving, thrumming passion that revels in freedom, I forget that You are the hero, not me.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-76183571208965991432011-01-31T20:48:00.000-08:002011-01-31T20:52:08.553-08:00RunYou are with me in that gleam across this rising sky. Scatter me fast and scatter me wide, leave my tether at your side. I'm safe and locked here in your hopes and fallen fast asleep, wake me when the sky is near and our stars beg to weep.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-15790826686705182612011-01-05T14:30:00.000-08:002011-01-05T14:44:23.684-08:00DreamI will fight you atop the risen stars with a fierceness that you cannot staunch. I will fight you beneath the tumbling waves, unrelenting and absolute. No one will ever hear of our struggle, no songs sung of heroism, no tears will trail their meandering paths. None will ever know what I have done and what I have saved, and my name will seamlessly fade into the veiled heart of hearts; but you will never win. I will fight you until the breath beats sharp and quick from my body and my eyes, ever locked onto yours drifts shut. I will win and from the frailty of your threats grow ever stronger.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-11706872500882102392010-12-10T23:47:00.000-08:002010-12-10T23:48:13.386-08:00StopI breathe in your every waking moment. It gives me heart and hope.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-40734721293723085862010-12-08T11:51:00.000-08:002010-12-10T23:30:50.705-08:00incompleteI want to see individuality as an honor, not an entitlement. I want to hold this freedom of expression, of dress and walk and hope and talk as a responsibility to the quality of humanity that I am, to the values that hold me firm and clear. I do not want to be so enticed by that addictive confidence, masking quiet shame.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6628236325565978798.post-69841872108384062662010-11-30T01:19:00.000-08:002011-01-31T20:53:57.603-08:00FlorenceBecause when I do, I do heavy. Like an avalanche of emotions, tearing and pulling, eagerly waiting hungry for <span style="font-style: italic;">something</span>. Life doesn't allow for that heaviness though, life doesn't wait for it, life doesn't bend for it. I wish I could say that's all I know, all I see. But I know how to be feather-light too. I know how to laugh and tease. I know clicks to the right, to the left, to the right. I'm a concrete worker, I'm a lumberjack and I built this here to stop the heavy. Because it doesn't just wash you away; it washes me too.Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10997031073732726856noreply@blogger.com0