love me like a song...

ever notice how much more you appreciate and enjoy a song once you've heard the background behind the song? or, if the song is written by someone you know, the deeply personal relationship doesn't give you a chance to doubt the greatness of the tune?

I wonder if this is true of our interactions with people...

I don't like certain people--judging only by the external and the opinions of others, and sometimes this is further solidified by an actual experience in the person's presence

but I've found myself shocked and amazed at how differently I can view one or another of these people once I am able somehow (and typically against my wishes) to get to know them

people are jacked up for so many reasons--the baggage is not convenient and exists without regard to our comfort

but like a song that I love--that I listen to in the quiet times, times of inspiration and tears and remembering and forgetting--people (God's joy, full of some divine spark I suppose and the reason for that Sacrifice) can become a treasure, if for nothing more than the pleasant surprise of being humbled

and making me consider Jesus

breaking squelch...

(emerging from the depths...it has been a while...perhaps all should view the frequency of my postings as a thermometer for my spiritual health)

you know, if I continue to work to provide/please my wife, my children, my boss (and bosses), while denying myself (at least feeling that I am denying myself something) then I will have cause for resentment at some point in my life (indeed I already feel this way some days)

(pause...) and yet, in all this, aren't I doing all for self, albeit indirectly? plugging away for those in my care--to what end if the spiritual debt goes unpaid?

the only solution is to do all for the glory of God (man, how that phrase sounds so elevated) and naturally all other things will fall into place--I am trying to learn and make sense of this idea

(I'm not talking about "sin" here, at least not in the popular sense...I'm more concerned about laboring towards some undefined end...

you know, the funny thing about dreams is that they always seem disjointed and confusing, having no purpose but appearing like one of those movie ransom notes with letters all over the place--like the paint-strewn Pollock paintings...I suspect that the "American Dream" may not be much different)

and the first step is forcing myself to pray...then believing that God will provide the time to read His word....and then doing it again...and again...all the while attempting to have faith that God honors my commitment

great...now let's get to it (doesn't seem so darn complicated, but Man am I tired this morning...what else is new?)