Christmas thoughts.

My youngest sister stood by my right side with her arms around my waist and her ear against my ribs, and I listened to her sing a worship song as loud as she possibly could about a God she has only just met. To my left side was a man who hated God, a man who boldly and bitterly shouted mockery at God in a room filled with people praising the one he so despised.



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I want to know why the number seven
and why seven stars, and why you revealed them in your palm
I want to know how you felt after you overturned the tables
and how ironic you found the palm leaves
and how dreadfully prophetic the timber strapped to your back.





and how often did you make a fist?
and then lower it to take the blows
I mean you were a pretty strong guy
you made tables and chairs and
I'm sure you had some heavy callouses





and I wonder how it felt when you made the choice to die?
I mean, you had to be pretty young, maybe ten years old.
at ten years old i was chasing cats with wooden swords
meanwhile, you're reading about how they'll turn swords against you
i can imagine you weren't too stoked to read Isaiah





And what if you had to fall out of love for your cause
I mean, you were a twenty-something who made the point to love everyone
And I can only imagine an unfortunate, beautiful soul falling for you
then having her tears fall for you when you reject her for your cause
I can only imagine you got upset with your father quite a bit









yet somehow you managed to pull the whole gig off immaculately. Your unorthodox life stuck out like well constructed graffiti.



your illustration of love is paramount in my life.