Under the Influence

If you are reading this then you are an influence. Not just an influence but a good influence. And not just a good influence, but a good influence on my life. I am blessed with so many good friends that when I sit and think about it I can't help but feel I don't deserve it. I am writing this for you because you should know

you have changed me.

You may not believe me, but I wouldn't be taking the time out of my day to write this if it wasn't true. I believe that we should let the people know how much they mean to us and that even the smallest encounter with a person, such as yourself, can change a life. Granted some reading this I may not know as well as others but that doesn't make you any less of an influence. If you are reading this I can't tell you how many times I've thought and prayed that we could hang out more because of who you are and what or who you stand for. I am writing this to thank you for letting me be a friend, for letting me hang out, and even for letting me be apart of your life. I am writing this to let you know that you are an influence and that you keep being the influence. I wanna let you know that you matter; not just to me but probably to a whole lot of others. Though cliche, there's nothing more true. I pray I can be a blessing like you have been to me and that I can learn how to be a positive influence like you have shown.

So with my hat off and my glass lifted, I toast to you and everything you have or haven't done.

Cheers Guys

and

Bottoms Up

Woah-man

I was eating lunch with some friends the other day and out of no where, I came to a realization. A realization that I always knew but

never

really

got.

You know the kind of realization you have that you've always known or understood but for some reason it just decided to click. And as I sat there in a conversation with a friend eating the infamous chicken sandwich, I looked around. And....

It

Just

Clicked.

There were women surrounding me talking, laughing, and smiling. I couldn't help but smile. Because there I realized, I am surrounded by the most beautiful creation God has made. It floored me I never saw it before and as my friend's conversation continued my epiphany distorted all sound. How could I have never grasped this? It reminded me of the story of Adam and Eve.

God created Adam and put him in a garden in the east, in Eden. "He put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it." But there was no suitable helper for Adam so "the Lord God caused him to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man's ribs and closed up the place with flesh. Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of Adam and he brought her to the man." Adam then said, "This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called 'woman,' for she was taken out of man."

As I looked around all I saw was Eve, the suitable helper made from man's own bones and flesh. And as I glanced around at this Perfection

This Poetry

This Beauty

And This Art

around me, it brought several questions to mind. How can other guys not see this? Why do they only see an opportunity of sexual immorality? Or why do they only see imperfection? And ladies, why are you worried about what you look like? Why are you so worried about your appearance? I can't tell you how stressful it is when girls call themselves fat or ugly when they're not. You need to realize that you are perfect...just...the...way...you...are. And as much of a cliche as that is it's true. You are Eve! If God didn't like the way you were created he wouldn't have created you! And if a guy, or so called "man", can't see that then he's not worth your time! I get so frustrated when I hear a girl talk about how her boyfriend/husband/fiance/friend (or whatever the case may be) isn't treating her right and she's sick of it. The answer is simple. Run! Leave! Why do you want to wait around for a man who is not your Adam?

The last question I ponder is one most guys ask; where is my Eve? But whenever I ask this question it is always followed by another; am I Adam? Am I the man I need/want to be who deserves an Eve? Does my life reflect Christ where I deserve or should be blessed with an Eve? It's a questions I more often than not ask myself. And until God reveals that answer to me I strive to be the man of God He wants me to be. But I still can't help but think about my Eve. I can't wait to meet her because I know when I do, I can be her Adam. I want to be the guy who fights for her and her heart. I wanna be her knight (yeah I know super cheesy) who would sleigh the dragon and the ends of the earth just to get to her; even if its to see that smile one last time. I wanna be the the man who gives all he has to her. Who will take care of her in every aspect that he should and knows how. I wanna be the man who puts that smile on her face and knows the secrets everybody doesn't. I want to be her Adam. Her suitable helper. I want to be united. I want to become one flesh. And I await that day with anticipation and eagerness but with patience for I know He will bring her to me when I become that man.

As I end this I can't help but laugh cause all these thoughts and realizations that overcame me, overcame me with a chicken sandwich in my hand. Tell me God doesn't have a sense of humor

A Glimpse of Grace

I'm here but i'm not really here.

I sit in my chair watching my friends

As they talk to each other

With smiles on their faces

And laughter bouncing off the walls

But dieing as I realize my own reality.

The sound and noise fall short of my existence

As if I was underwater looking to the surface

For my thoughts are somewhere else.

I thought the problems were gone.

I thought I disciplined them and put them in the corner

Where they belong.

But I soon realize they're just like children.

If stuck in the same place for too long

They become restless and test their boundaries.

I have been tested and I have failed.

I sit realizing my own heart cannot be trusted

And that this grace He gives us and wraps us in

Is like a child encompassed in a warm blanket by his mother

Crying

Knowing

That he did wrong but she holds him regardless.

With him close to her chest and arms wrapped around him

He feels the warmth and safety of her love and forgiveness

As the sobs begin to weaken.

I am this child cause I fail day in and day out

But I am yet given this gift we call Grace.

And as I sit in this chair I am humbled by the thought

Cause I don't deserve it.

I don't want Heartbreak but yet I break His heart everyday.

I sit there thinking how I can change so drastically

From one day

To the next.

I'm on track

Then I'm not.

I lean back and lightly chuckle

Cause I feel I don't even know myself anymore.

Why is it on nights like this my actions don't reflect the man I want to be

But a man I despise?

My actions reflect a man of this world

Not the next.

So I ask myself, "How does this happen?"

How'd it get this way?

Jeremiah 17:9

"Man's heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?"

My heart is deceitful and longs for the things

And People of this world.

So I change even to a point of where I don't even know who I am

And why or who I'm acting for.

I keep asking for these burdens, especially one, to be lifted

But yet these children keep sneaking out of the corner

Leaving me embarrassed, humbled and

Exposed to the All Knowing.

Bringing me back to the thought of Grace.

I long to change into the man Christ wants me to be

But I realize the only way I will get there is by tests and trials

So that I can develop perseverance.

For "perserverance must finish its work so that

You may be Mature

And Complete,

Not lacking Anything."

And as a chair squeaks and my name is called

I am brought back to my friends.

And as the tests occur, I ask Christ for strength

To persevere

And to accept the gift of Grace

For when I fail.

Cause My Heart Aches Otherwise

Hide and Seek

I hate this feeling.

I'm ready to meet you.

His Day, Not Mine

My dreams fade as the sound of a beeping wake my reality.

I climb out of comfort dragging my feet for another day

And walk with indifference to clean my body of wickedness.

The water drips over me

With my eyes closed

And hands against the wall.

My mind calms as I meditate on the sound of dripping water

And the touch of warm purity that hits my shoulders.

Thoughts wonder from one to another

Concerning my life and how it is lived

But I rid myself of such thoughts

Cause the burden of stress is like acid.

After the handle is turned and the water ceases

I make my way back to what I now consider "home"

To dress with first a sock and finally a shirt.

I look in the mirror as if to try and gain a kind of acceptance

But 1st Peter intervenes.

So I sit down and open my guide to a better life.

A life of purity

A life of discipline

A life of love

After some spiritual insight

The clock tells me its time to start the day

And the book next to it tells me

To start it right.

So as I walk downstairs towards the doors

Separating me from the outside world

I ask myself if this will be my day

Or His.

But as I walk through those doors I quickly realize

This should be His day.

I see the sun shine through the morning dew

And the branches on the trees reaching towards the Heavens.

The wind hits my face as if to say, "Good Morning"

While the suns rays warm my upper back.

I take a look at the creation that my Creator has made

And can't help but be comforted by the grace of our God.

His art far outweighs Van Gogh or Michelangelo's

For his art lives and breathes.

It turns a small seed into a Redwood.

It turns coal and pressure into a priceless stone.

It turns love into a living breathing baby.

I'm reminded everyday I step outside

That this isn't my day

This is His day.

The day goes on and His beauty screams its magnificence

Though we live in a society where most are deaf

And most are blind to the most obvious.

So I do my best to open my eyes and ears

To what was created around me

So that I might worship Yahweh

The creator of the Heavens and Earth.

We are the paint on His canvas

We are clay in His hands

We are his creation.

And that is why this should be His day

Not mine.

So as I walk on the manmade concrete

Towards a classroom of insignificance

I glance at the grass

The trees

The flowers

And the clouds

And realize the comfort is not where I left my dreams,

It's when I begin my day

To Whom it May Concern

I sit here with my hands through my hair

Leaning over my desk listening to the music

As my emotions dance on the notes of the melody.

My chest hurts

My stomach turns

My body lifeless

And my breathing heavy

For my anticipation and eagerness are like two kids

In search of a treasure

A treasure worth far more than silver or gold

A treasure not easily found but often sought after

An emotion

A feeling

An action

One word that is used too often or used too little

Love

I sit here re-living the scenes of the cliche love stories

As the music fades in and out

And I can't help but think of that word

Love

A word so powerful and poetic

That it can bring a man to his knees

Or a tear from her eyes.

My thoughts surround the word

And my patience grows thin.

Though I don't know you

I want to

More often than not

I lie awake imagining those moments

Those moments you read in stories

Those moments you see in movies

Those moments I'm with you

And everything is perfect.

I long to look into those eyes I'm meant to look into

And to lightly grab the tip of your chin

To tell you those 3 words I will tell you everyday

For as long as your heart beats.

I pray I am given the chance to treat you as a unique flower

Grown in the Garden of Eden

And that no matter what is said or done

Those 3 words will never be lost.

I promise to honor you

And to keep you in sickness and in health

Remaining faithful to you for as long as

You and I

Both shall live.

But yet I do not know you

And I am brought back down to my desk

Listening to the sounds of melodies that

Surround my lifeless body and the hands in my hair.

I am left with the thought of another cliche

And a sick stomach.

So I sit here writing this for you

With a half smirk on my face

Knowing that those moments will come

And that i'll be here waiting for them

While preparing myself for you.

So with that said

This is

To Whom It May Concern

My Handicap

My mind tears away at the memories

The memories I thought that were forgotten

The memories I thought I flushed away

But they still fizzle to the top 

And turn my stomach like the drying of a wet rag

While embarrassment and guilt floods my horizon.

I shake my head in disgust coming to the realization 

That I was that regret 

That regret that we all have in past experiences

Where we ask ourselves that one simple question,

"Why?"

And after meditating on all that was said and done

I can't say I blame you

I look back and can't help but ask myself the same question,

"Why?"

As my memories surround me and I look at myself

Through the eyes of someone who has lost

My body quivers 

It shakes at all the mistakes that were made

It shakes at all the wrong words that were said

It trembles at the idiocracy that was shown 

Leaving me with a bad taste of regret and want

And knowing there's no way to go back and correct it.

So I sit in disgust and despair 

While I look at what was lost

And though wanting to reach out and grab another chance

I can't

For that would be selfish.

I see things are better for you

So I step back and watch a new road being paved

While inspiration runs through my veins

To be the person I should've been

Because the past cannot be changed

But the future can be carved.

So with that inspiration in hand

I live

I live day to day trying to be the man you deserved

And not the boy you recieved.

Though I may not show my handicap

I am crippled by being that regret

and the bread crumbs that led me there.

So I grasp my cane of inspiration to hold me up

and to allow me to walk tall on what lies ahead