my careless contagion

Thanks for once again stopping by this space and reading my thoughts. This is part two of what a godly marriage should look like. I am by no means an authority on the subject, but I do like thinking about it. First, the verses, and then I will hopefully expound upon it.  22 Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. 23 For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church: and he is the saviour of the body. 24 Therefore as the church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in every thing. 25 Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it; 26 That he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word, 27 That he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish. 28 So ought men to love their wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife loveth himself. ...

Written several weeks ago, this post still holds true. I waited for a good time to post it, but I don't even know what that means. So, this is as good of a time as any. I'm working on part two, which takes some verses from Ephesians. I'd like to marry again someday. Sometimes that thought scares me. Sometimes it excites me, especially when I think about one woman in particular. Actually, it's just her that excites me, regardless of the relationship status (I think we are friends.). But, anyway. This post is about marriage, and a good portrait of godly marriage is found in 1 Peter 3, which follows. 3 Whose adorning let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel;  4 But let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price.  5 For after this manner in the old time the holy women also, who trusted in God...

Dolly Parton has been a fixture in country music and popular culture my entire life. Her career started way before I was born, in fact. I Will Always Love You is a classic, and it came from an era when country music was very different. She wrote the song in 1972, reportedly the same day she wrote Jolene , which is my favorite Dolly Parton song. Also, take note of Dolly's seated position in the above video (recorded in 1974?), which is a very hard way to sing a song like this, yet she does it naturally and beautifully. Most people are familiar with the 1992 Whitney Houston version of this song, which is very good (though I don't care for the sax). Whitney was one of the greatest singers of our time, and I was deeply saddened when she passed. Still, I have to agree with this comment on YouTube: " Whitney's version makes your knees weak and gives you goosebumps; Dolly's version makes you break down and cry like a baby." Indeed, while Whitney's voice can...

The above is one of my favorite pictures of my son. This was the day he finished his swim lessons for the year, and I was so proud of him. I told him how I struggled to pass my swim lessons when I was a child. There were many days he simply didn't want to do what he was told (like putting his head under the water, which I admit is scary when you're not used to it). But we asked that he try, not that he succeed, not that he do anything perfectly. We just asked that he try. And he did.   It's the image of a child growing up too fast, too. He's only four years old, but so much is expected of him. We oftentimes treat him as we would an adult. I have said countless times how I want him to just slow down ... please, just slow down, you can be an adult the rest of your life; you can only be a kid now.  Regardless, life moves us along. Today I realized just how far along my son has gotten. There is a reactionary quality to what I need to relate here. Trust me, I understa...

I always wanted to be a father. I remember working with people who said they wished I had been their dad. Let's face it, dads are in the doghouse these days. So many men have reneged on their responsibilities at home to their wives and children and, most importantly, to God. I thought I could be a good dad. My son sometimes feels like the easiest person in the world to live with. He's smart, vocal, clear about his opinions, and wants to do the right thing. The flipside of that is a monster I cannot even see around. It fills the room and all I can see is that beast staring at me — immobile, resistant, defiant, foul, and hateful.  Parenting is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Doing it alone is even harder. My heart hurts for all the single moms and dads trying to make a living, trying to raise good kids, and trying to have a life (if that's even possible). It is the single most humbling task I've committed myself to. I never go to sleep at night thinking...

He likes to layer his look. He has two watches on and lots of stuff in his pockets, too.  I miss my son. He's the child I never thought I'd have. I wanted many children, but I got one. But he's worth a whole bunch. If you met him, you'd understand.  I miss him because I don't get to see him much. Even though I'm not sure what to do with him or what to say to him, I still want him around.  My prayer was I'd be able to go back to school. I abandoned all hope of being able to finish what little I could, which turned out to be an associate's degree. I left these things in God's hands and told Him I'd go back only if He opened the door. I was surprised once again because that door flung open this year.   I have 50 percent custody of my son, which I thought was fair. I could have had primary custody. I didn't think that was fair to my son or his mom. But, I don't see him 50 percent of the time because I work full-time and am taking ...

I love her with a love neither of us understands. It's an unrelenting, driving thing. How it exists without the object of its affection, I'll never know. She's gone, but my heart keeps loving her.  I can't explain. All I can say is it seems my heart searched for a woman like her, and when it found her, it didn't want to give her up. To me, she was the model of the perfect woman. I knew I'd never find another like her. Imagine my surprise when the very model of perfection walked back into my life!  Even though she's gone, my heart agreed to love her. It settled on her with a finality unlike anything I've seen.  She has moved on. She has left me here to weather the world without her. I don't know where her heart has wandered, but it is not with me. Perhaps it's gone back to a former love, perhaps on to another. Perhaps it's just hurting and waiting and hurting again — by itself, unable to love anyone.  This love I have for her will ...

  I imagine us like animals, groping with dumb hands and exhaling fire, fixated on each other. If the world were to end, we wouldn't even know. We'd be madly making love like this.  I see myself obsessively, passionately, rapturously handling you. It's always from behind, as if I saw your face, it would be over in seconds. And I want this to last. I want to feel like I've gone to the edge with you and returned, sweaty and tired but proud. Your face turns enough for me to see your eyes closed tight, and my mouth rushes to meet yours, but you turn away again. Your body is clothed in odd sections, unclothed in the only way that matters right now — underwear still clinging to one foot, skirt on the bed, blouse and bra still on, and my favorite necklace gathering moisture on your neck.  The ache is a whole-body ache. The inevitable release is like a perfect spring day after a long winter, like finishing a grueling race, like souls crashing together. It's explosi...

My grandmother fell yesterday and broke her hip. She had surgery to repair it. As far as I know, she'll be fine. She was doing exercises. For the record, my grandmother is 101. I hope this will be the end of her living alone. Maybe this will be the moment she realizes it's okay if she lives with some sort of assistance. It's hard to acquiesce when you've lived by yourself for so long. I'm nearly 41 and my grandmother has been retired as long as I can remember. But, she's always been busy. She volunteers a lot. She was a founding member of a church that's not even a quarter of a mile from where I live now. She won't be there this Sunday, though. It seems like most people have a sweet little thing of a grandmother. My grandmother is a tough little shit. I don't think I've seen her be soft too many times. She had a favorite among us brothers, and it wasn't me. I can remember her picking me up from school ...

Freedom winds its way around me in the wild wind. It boldly makes its way in the dark and starry nights. It saunters in the moonlight and howls for all those prisoners safe in their homes. There is freedom out there, boys, but it's not here in all this noise. Here, we are slaves and demigods. Out there are heroes and gods.  The trees are free to feel, but they cannot go. They spend their entire lives sucking dirt, holding tight, weathering storms and bugs and blight. Their strength is in staying. I admire them, but I am not like them. My strength is in going. Always going. Always gone. Always somewhere else.  Staring at this night, I can feel it calling me. Staring down this road, I can feel the pull. There is a wildness in me. For the first time in more than 20 years, I am free, utterly free. I have no master. I have no maid. I have no fear and no rules and no reason to stay. I am as free as the wind that blows right by me.  I can love that woman and ...

It's like magic to hear her voice. I'm transported to a place where I feel sane again, like I'm right by her side. I don't know how she does it, but she does it every time. Her voice goes right through my skin, right to my heart. It quickens me like no other sound in the world. If I could just have her voice and nothing else, it might be enough. Then again, it may not.    There is such longing in me to have her completely. One call from her and my sleep for the week is ruined. I cry out for her all night long. Does she hear me? Can she feel my hands searching for her in my cold and empty sheets?  It's like I'm in love for the first time. This is all new to me. I feel so much, and it has nowhere to go. She's outside of me, but she's also the blood that runs in my veins. And she runs hot. I have nothing but wishes for us. There's nothing I actually possess. Maybe this is the way great love stories start. Maybe this is the way...

Maybe she will, maybe she won't. Maybe this is it. Maybe it's already gone. What I wanted and what I needed were two different things. Who's to tell me that tomorrow will be any different?  When she looks in on me, I'm sure what she sees alarms her, pricks her heart, dismays her, and shakes her. There's a whole lot of bleeding going on in here, girl. You may need your goggles on. You may need to hold your breath and pinch your nose. There are wounds here being sutured tight, but in the dimness of the light, you can see my face gone blank, gone white, just ... gone.  Do you know how long I've been like this? When you knew me as a boy, I was already so damaged, defeated, destitute. I wonder if your heart saw my pain, took pity, and decided to love me. I wonder if you ever knew how much I would love you.  No one was ever meant to see and hear these words. But, I've let you see them all. I've invited you right in. Does it make you feel luc...

  *What I set in motion five years ago has come to fruition. Come home to roost. Whatever you want to say. Now I sit in the giant, rotten center of the end result of the decisions I've made. I'm surrounded by memories of things that are broken, lost, or never were. My mind is swollen with my mistakes; my heart is broken by my actions. I wonder if I will ever be able to stand again and walk out of this hurting, bleeding place. All the while, I hear a chiding voice asking me if I'm happy now. Well, am I?*     Now Don't just walk away Pretending everythings okay and you don't care about me And I know it's just no use When all your lies become your truths and I don't care Could you look me in the eye And tell me that you're happy now Would you tell it to my face Have I been erased Are you happy now Are you happy now You took all there was to take And left me with an empty plate And you don't care about it Yeah And I am givi...

There's something about this something about me something about you that threatens to break me in two There's something on the wind getting closer filling me with excitement filling me with dread Is it you, my perfect coming to me at last is it your heart I hear crying out like mine This is an epic thing I am not a man of renown I am not a beast I am just flesh  I've run out of words run out of hope and other things  that look like it Here I sit alone again unable to move unable to breathe If God sees me if God hears me if anyone sees me if anyone hears me Please understand I am just a man broken now now less than a man There is nowhere to go nothing to do but sit and wait stirring inside My face shows my age my hands show my rage my heart shows my pain and humiliation But my feet cannot walk away.