The Price

Here's a depressing poem I wrote recently, thinking about how people get bored with me after a while, and about the risks it takes to make new friends. I left off the end because I didn't like the way it was written, but it leaves the rest of this sort of unresolved... oh well, I guess it's more poetic that way. Be assured, I'm not really that depressed. It was just one of those times when I was analyzing my life and relationships, and I write poems to figure things out (which I did at the end of the poem that I left off, so I guess you'll all just have to resolve it in your own way).

Somewhere in my memory is the phrase
"I don't want to be your friend anymore"
etched in unspoken forms
like the new group of girls who finally accepted her
or in the college far away
the call to move to central Asia
or marriage vows to a jealous wife
those things that say "I don't like you anymore"--
or worse "I'll always like you but you aren't worth
the time it takes while I pursue my life"
Make the fear that I'll never really fit in
that I'll always be a back-burner friend
a fear that stays and torments me
every time I try again

Every Little Baby

I think that we're supposed to learn things about God by having our own children. since He's our Father, and He treats us like his kids. My youth pastor said something to us like that on Sunday, so I've been thinking about how helpless babies are and how they can't really do anything for themselves.

Arlene needs me to provide for her needs. She might not know that I'm doing it always, and she can';t say thank you or even smile yet. I guess God looks at us that way, even though we don't always recognize that He's the one supplying things, and that without Him we'd be completely helpless. he still loves us and cares for us.

And right now I feel pretty helpless too. This song has been running through my head for the last three weeks every time I start thinking about this subject. It's always been one of my favorites; now it makes even more sense.

Hold On - Twila Paris

Every little baby comes into the world
Reaching for an anchor, fingers tightly curled
Grasping for a reason without knowing why
We will cling to anything 'til the day we die
We can hold on to sorrow, hold on to pain
We can hold on to anger when there is nothing to be gained
We can hold to a thread at the end of a rope
But if we hold on to Jesus we are holding on to hope
Hold on, hold on
This is human nature; this is what He planned
When He put our hearts inside, when He made these hands
We are here to reach for Him, never letting go
This is all we need to have, all we need to know
We can hold on to money, hold on to fame
We can hold on to glory and the honor of a name
We can hold to a thread at the end of a rope
But if we hold on to Jesus we are holding on to hope
Hold on, hold on
Go on hold on, hold on

p.s. that is not Daniel's hand in the picture with arlene; it's Nathan's. He wanted to take a picture of her perfect fist (she has good genes for fighting crime).