change and changing me

Today was one of those days when I looked around and thought, Wow, everything is different.  And maybe that's not a problem for most people, but I hate change.  I always complain about change and the passage of time.

About new challenges.
About evolving relationships.
About moving on.
About growing up.

I usually have such a problem accepting the fact that things can't always stay the same.  But not today.  Somehow, as I looked around, I realized that I'm alright.  Everything is different, but I'm strangely okay with that.  I realized that I'm okay with my life changing.  I'm okay with my situation changing.  I'm okay with my friends changing.  I'm even okay with me changing.

Because I finally understand something.  No matter what changes in my life, my God is always the same.  Even when everything around me is moving and shifting, He is stable.  And so is His love.

Today, I stood in church and suddenly wanted to run around and sing at the top of my lungs, and maybe even hop over a few chairs.  Because I've spent so long hating change and being so unhappy that things are different, but my God and His love never change.  And I take comfort in the fact that nothing I can ever do could ever change His love for me.  

So bring it on, world.  I'm ready.  Go ahead, just try and mess me up.  Nothing that you can do will ever change what matters.  Ain't nothing gonna change my God.

who else would i think of, other than you?

Cause it's me and my music on a Tuesday night
And I'm doing my homework by computer light.
What else would I say, what else would I do,
Who else would I think of, other than you?

Cause you've captured my heart and you've captured my mind,

And since we've been apart it's been so hard to find

A purpose, a calling, a reason to try.
I used to give effort but I can't 'member why.

Cause I want to forget, yet I want to go back,

So I stay where I am, but then I lose track
Of what I was doing and what it was for.
I cared for so long, but not anymore.

Cause you've been in my past, but not in my "now,"
I've tried to forget you, but I don't know how.
And you weasel your way to the front of my brain;
I don't know how you do it, but it brings me such pain

To know that I had you and now that I don't,
And unless I do something right now, then I won't.
Forever and ever I'll be grabbing the air,
Trying so hard to hold somebody who's not there.

But maybe there's some way this still could work out,
If I could search through my past and then drag you to now.
So I try to reach back through the pages I've turned
In the book of my life, but alas!  They've been burned.

Cause the books of our lives follow one special rule:
Once a page has been written, it burns up--oh how cruel!
So you cannot go backward, just on to the next.
Only one way that these pages turn: right to left.

So I sit in my room on this Thursday night,
Wondering if this will all turn out right.
But what else would I say, what else would I do,
Who else would I think of, other than you?

come with me

Someone come with me.  We're going on an adventure.  We're gonna go explore the world, and celebrate the fact that we're alive today.  We're gonna run--not walk--through life and pretend like we're seeing everything for the first time.

Someone come run around and roll through the grass with me.  Come turn summersaults and cartwheels, because living just makes me so gosh darn happy that I can't help but move around like a child.  Come sing with me at the top of our lungs, like we're exercising our vocal cords for the first time, and be amazed that those sounds are in fact coming from us.  Come run as fast as you can with me, just so we can feel with wind against our faces and feel it flow through our hair, and it's almost as if we're flying.  Come out and dance in the rain with me, and let the drops fall down your face like thousands of tears, except that they're the kind that come from joy and not sadness.  Come live with me.  Come breathe with me.  Come hear and smell and taste and touch and see with me.  Come feel my joy and passion for life.  Come with me and realize that we're alive, and that alone is something worth celebrating.

So why do we trudge through life every day like it's a chore?  As if there's nothing worthwhile in our lives anymore?  As if sometime long ago, we left behind the part of ourselves that allowed us to experience the pure joy of living.  Oh please, please come with me, see things through my rose-colored glasses.  Come with me and understand that we're alive and breathing and we made it to today, and that's more than enough.  Someone please, take my hand and come with me. . .

quiet noise

How come when it's quiet all my thoughts cry out?

I know I'm talking, but I don’t know what about.

Maybe if I'm silent I can hear my voice?

But no, it's lost again, in my head with all the noise.

A chance to live again, what would you choose?

No thanks, the offer's nice, but I think I must refuse.

I think if I did I'd just make more mistakes,

And I think my last few are just more than I can take.

You say this is the end, and I don’t disagree.

The only one that minds is a piece of the old me.

But I don’t care what that piece thinks, because--

'Cause for the life of me, I can't remember who I was.

i sing to empty seats

Driving in my car:

That's when I feel most free. 

I turn the music off,

And start singing--only me.

If you looked into my window

As I'm driving down the street,

You'd see me looking stupid,

Singing to an empty seat.

I know that I can't sing

Like everybody else.

But at least the words I say

Are coming from myself.

I sing them from the heart,

I sing them out to God.

I guess I could ask for more,

But this is all I want.

But this is all I want.

You are all I want.

the book of unfinished poems

I never finished them,
although I wanted to
'Cause every time I tried,
I always thought of you.

And every time the pen
and paper start to touch,
the memories rush back,
and they all hurt so much.

The memories themselves
are not what's really sad.
They're actually the opposite:
the good times that we had.

But the thing about the good times
is that they never last.
That happiness behind me--
you live only in my past.

And so when I sit down to write,
I find it's no can-do.
The only thing that's stopping me
is that I keep missing you.