Time and Light Switches

All is quiet here. The birds have gone to bed and the bees have yet to wake at all. Cars and automation have stilled and no longer rage. A stillness has taken over. A wrathful stillness that has consumed all nomancy.  I was born into that generation of automation and the turn of that century. I have dreamed of a time when the sun going to bed meant you did too, where the stillness was tangible. Where you could hear the stars breath and see the birth of new worlds. I have never known, only dreamt of a time such as this. Not the panic, the stillness. We were born for a time such as this.  If you can hope to see the healing of people you can see the value of the stillness. It is a gift the still, a gift not to be ignored.  As I stood to watch the sky barefooted and in the cold I could hear my neighbours. They are a quarter mile away and I could hear them. I could hear the hum of the powerlines and I swear I could hear the trees snore. It was such a pure and beautif...

The dragonflies are coming. They're looking, hunting, hoping they'll finally find someone like you.  Someone who looks at stars and finds themselves small and finds that to be a comfort. Someone who dreams with their whole heart and can't help but be who they are. And once they find you, they won't ever let go. They will follow you down orchards and find you halfway round the world. They will tell you stories,  tell you of the sights they saw before finding you. The dragonflies they will tell secrets, the secrets of the things people dare not say. They see the things people hide in the hearts, the things people forget are even there. But the dragonflies remember, they've seen. They tell the tree's secrets and bring word from the sea. They like to sit on your shoulder; to try and see the world the way you do. You inspire these little beings to look deeper and look longer. Truly inspiring they say, truly truly you are. They will come in times of need and w...

Fall has a way of creating breathable tangible nostalgia. There’s something so golden about the sun during autumn that's lacking the rest of the year. The air is somehow cleaner. Forget the blooming of flowers that shout the end of the storm and the triumphant victory of survival. No, I prefer the colouring of leaves that breaths change and then end of an era full of struggle and growth. Whisper to the wind it is time to wake and it is time to rage.  It is full of tender honesty and speaks of rest. It's compiled of the dreams before sleep. And it loves to hug. Connection is made easy knowing the storm is on its way. There is a welcomed warmth of love that had been dusted off and put on the mantle for all to see. It doesn’t lie and it is no time for regrets, only a continued journey. There is always another chapter, another tranquil moment waiting to be witnesses and not simple passed over. Wait and be still it says, it is time to choose love over hate. It is time it whisper...

There is an instance in a hockey game where time holds its breath and holds its breath and waits. The moment where you aren’t sure if it was a goal or not. Time will stretch and then snap . The anticipation is so thick in the air you can practically taste it. That edge of your seat, gripping your neighbour, stomping the floor tension that you willingly throw yourself into. Now imagine you sat in anticipation for Jesus’s return the same way you wait to see if it was a goal or not. Imagine that every time you waited for the presence of the lord to be made known to you, you did so with the same passion. What if we applied that level of patience, longing, anticipation, focus, and excitement to the way we look at Jesus? If we looked at Jesus the way we wait to cheer for a goal, wouldn’t the moment He comes be that much sweeter? Would that not insight joy in the hearts of all who were to bear witness. Would that not light a fire that would be without ceasing. Would that not create a cultur...

I went away. Across the pond. Over the seas. And I would be lying if I said I left and found myself. Now to say that wasn’t my goal, would also be a lie. No, you see I left with all intention of finding myself and I came back having found a family. A new family of misfits whom I shall love with all my heart till the end time. I went with my whole broken heart bared for all to see and somehow they thought that endearing. You see I had nothing to lose, because at the end of the day I was only with them for a short six months and if I made a complete and utter fool of myself? Well I would be coming back and wouldn’t have to see a single one of them ever again. Isn’t it funny, that very thought is now the fear that keeps me up at night. Poetic justice at its finest don’t you think? I found that if you look at the night sky, the stars only look slightly different. Don’t get me wrong, they're still the same stars as far as Israel however it all looks just a little bit n...