fleeting moments-Chuck Harris: June 2011
our most precious commodity
we can’t produce more…when it expires, it’s fleeting moments are gone forever
have i made the most of the seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years that have been ordained for me?
have i routinely squandered this most treasured of assets?
truly time is a gift given as a daily allotment
one moment moves to the next and if we regularly miss those moments, they are wasted time
there are many riches that can be lost and regained, but time can never be recreated
so let us make the most of time because the days are short
really….joy?-Chuck Harris: June 2011
is joy a treasure that we search and dig for like precious metals and stones?
or is it like oxygen that floats freely in the atmosphere and is readily available to all who will just inhale?
as i read, i see those who experience complete joy didn’t walk the easiest path
in fact, their treks were dangerous leading to injury and even death
yet they continue to count this joy
like some sort of twisted currency with an outrageous exchange rate
no matter what overwhelms them they continue the quest, they count it ALL joy
so that in Him, my joy can be made complete
palette-Chuck Harris: June 2011
what is it that colors your world?
is it a philosophy? a belief? a system?
or is it something else?
do you view the world through a lens foggy and tinted or clearly through pristine glass?
is your view pixelated from what you’ve been taught or told?
or have you done the exploratory work of digging into wisdom yourself and created your own scheme?
do you trust and/or adhere to the views of others or do you stand alone on the vista surveying the vast expanse of life as you know it?
what adds to your art? music? literature? politics? religion?
do you only like the colors that speak to you, or would you be willing to look at something you consider brash or boring?
what are the hues you create with as you paint on the canvas of your journey?
what crayons are in your box? what paints are on your palette?
speak-Chuck Harris: June 2011
they’re like little nuggets
they can be like gold or even drip out as diamonds
or they can be like a cancer
a destructive tumor that does nothing but eat away at what is healthy
we often spit them out as soon as they come to mind
never turning over in our mouth the hand grenade that we unleash to blow up and fragment fragile souls and hearts
they pass our teeth and exit our lips
they depart from the tip of our tongue and we can never take them back
words can bring moments of healing and wisdom or they can be curses that destroy and devastate the target at which they are aimed
i continue to open my mouth when maybe i should cover it with both of my hands.
from a better place.
the good-Chuck Harris: June 2011
i want to write about the good things
i’m searching for the good. i want to run after the good.
what is really good?
the good is hearing my sister’s laugh after many years of sadness
the good is tears of joy wept as i realize truth in the words i hear or read
the good is a hug and a kiss from my children
the good is hearing a song for the first time that touches a place deep in the recesses of the heart
the good is singing loudly, hopefully, beautifully!
the good is realizing that someday, somehow, somewhere, someone will see something in me that they will love even when the real me comes out
the good is what keeps me going
yes, i’m in a very honest mode right now as i write. i’m searching for a glimpse of something to spark my heart.
a psalm of lament-Chuck Harris: June 2011
how long must this trial continue? is it much longer?
could you please possibly give me a time frame so i know how long i’ll need to hold on?
i mean, if it’s not too much to ask?
i’m just being honest, i want to know if there is an end
i guess i’ll make due if there isn’t, but just to know
i’d like to know
i want to be in the light
the light that bathes the end of this dark passage of life
a bit of refuge in the bright sun of Your love before the next tunnel
i know this passage is difficult and necessary, but occasionally
just that little nudge of Your hand on the small of my back moving me towards the brightness
toward the space in between the dark labyrinths
wow, i’ve really been writing quite a bit lately.
a psalm of sorts-Chuck Harris: June 2011
so how long does pain last?
when will you say, “that’s enough”?
are we ever free from it, or are we continually in a state of wounding and healing?
is it perpetual?
wounded again…healed again…more scars?
are the battle wounds we bear a badge of courage or bandages of bondage?
will i ever not be impacted, overwhelmed and destroyed by pain?
just as soon as i get back on my feet from the last disaster, another storm strikes
i long for the relief, for the end of the strife
can you bring the remedy to heal this wounded life?