d i m e n s i o n s

Dear Jesus...

Thank you that you never leave me

And thank you that you're hard on me

Thank you that you always forgive

And thank you that you never let me get away with anything

Thank you that you loved me first

And thank you that You heal wounds, and broken relationships alike

Jesus, thank you for your truth and your grace


Please forgive me for being such a selfish jerk.
You are dear to me.





n.j.

Today was cool. Because God is cool. And its not just because He’s something hott to wear, or something fun to do, but He just is, okay!? And today He gave me a whole bunch of neat stuff that made me happy. For once. So I was working at PGE Park. And it was sooo sunny. Oh so sunny, indeed! And I had my Oakley’s. And I was feelin it. And then I walked to Starbucks. I burned some fat. From my toes. Then bought a Frapp. And then I met this gloriously black dude. His skin was like the midnight sky. And his eyes like the stars therein. He said he was from Kenya. [said in an extremely rad African accent] His wife had their baby here, so He came to work. He choose Starbucks on 1972 W Burnside St, Portland, OR. And I happened upon him in this tiny universe of so-called “coffee aficionados.” After our short-lived conversation, I walked back to the park. I wished about having a nice camera. And wished about being able to interview him. And paint him as a portrait. Alas, I have no camera. And not a moment of time. After reluctantly returning to my toil a few more minutes, my ‘workspace’ was somewhat invaded by a peculiarly skinny little man. I noticed he was setting up a excessively expensive video camera in the Sky Box adjacent to me. After several moments of silence, I decided to announce my presence. “Hey dude! How’s it goin?” I read his thoughts. ‘Great… what do you want, punk?’ In spite of my fear, I managed a few simple exchanges I found out he’s an avid golfer and was in the newspaper once. A mis-print. We then return to our undeclared selves… Before leaving, however, I decided to find out who he REALLY was. I tactfully question the nature of his camera and his astonishing vantage point. He was the “pop-fly camera 2” for FOX Sports. Cool! I finished my work. It looked great. I drove home listening to various Feisty women. After talking to a friend on the phone, changing out of my sticky work uniform and smelly socks, I shuffle vigorously through the mail. Though, there was not much need for “shuffling” since a large, flat package was waiting for me on the table. I opened it at my desk. Then UPS came. Wouldn’t you know it!? Another package. Just for me. And my glorious day continues. Even now as my weary finger tips explore the lighted keys of my new mac. Whew…

God is cool.



n.j.

absence
 makes
  the heart
   grow
    fonder.

staring into time

a void of insularity

no guiding hope or rhyme

a voice without a melody


sing to me again

your love that once resounded

a harmony within

give to me again

your heart that once sounded

a symphony therein


just sing it to me now

and i'll sing it back to you








n.j.