I am a part of the "Fellowship of the Unashamed."
The die has been cast. I have stepped over the line.
The decision has been made. I am a disciple of
Jesus Christ. I won't look back, let up, slow down,
back away, or be still. My past is redeemed, my present
makes sense, and my future is secure.
I am finished and done with low living, sight walking,
small planning, smooth knees, colorless dreams,
chintzy giving, and dwarfed goals.

I no longer need pre-eminence, prosperity, position,
promotions, plaudits, or popularity. I now live by
presence, lean by faith, love by patience,
lift by prayer, and labor by power. My pace
is set, my gait is fast, my goal is Heaven, my
road is narrow, my way is rough, my companions few,
my Guide reliable, my mission clear. I cannot be bought,
compromised, deterred, lured away, turned back,
diluted, or delayed.

I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the
presence of adversity, negotiate at the table of the enemy,
ponder at the pool of popularity, or meander
in the maze of mediocrity.

I am a disciple of Jesus Christ. I must go until
Heaven returns, give until I drop, preach until all know,
and work until He comes. And when He comes to get
His own, He will have no problem recognizing me.
My colors will be clear.

I am not ashamed of the gospel. (Romans 1:16)

"The Fellowship of the Unashamed"
Dr. Bob Moorehead


My friend shared this with me the other day. It speaks to me. I am part of the Fellowship of the Unashamed. Simple.

Silver-Lined Heart
By Taylor Mali

I’m for reckless abandon
and spontaneous celebrations of nothing at all,
like the twin flutes I kept in the trunk of my car
in a box labeled Emergency Champagne Glasses!

Raise an unexpected glass to long, cold winters
and sweet hot summers and the beautiful confusion of the times in between.
To the unexpected drenching rain that leaves you soaking
wet and smiling breathless;
“We danced in the garden in torn sheets in the rain,”
we were christened in the sanctity of the sprinkler,
can’t you hear it singing out its Hallelujah?

Here’s to the soul-expanding power
of the simply beautiful.

See, things you hate, things you despise,
multinational corporations and lies that politicians tell,
injustices that make you mad as hell,
that’s all well and good.
And as far as writing poems goes,
I guess you should.
It just might be a poem that gets Mumia released,
brings an end to terrorism or peace in the middle east.

But as far as what soothes me, what inspires and moves me,
honesty behooves me to tell you your rage doesn’t move me.
See, like the darkest of clouds my heart has a silver lining,
which does not harken to the loudest whining,
but beats and stirs and grows ever more
when I learn of the things you’re actually for.

That’s why I’m for best friends, long drives, and smiles,
nothing but the sound of thinking for miles.
For the unconditional love of dogs:
may we learn the lessons of their love by heart.
For therapy when you need it,
and poetry when you need it.
And the wisdom to know the difference.

The solution to every problem usually involves some kind of liquid,
even if it’s only Emergency Champagne
or running through the sprinkler.
Can’t you hear it calling you?

I’m for crushes not acted upon, for admiration from afar,
for the delicate and the resiliant and the fragile human heart,
may it always heal stronger than it was before.
For walks in the woods, and the for the woods themselves,
by which I mean the trees. Definitely for the trees.
Window seats, and locally brewed beer,
and love letters written by hand with fountain pens:
I’m for all of these.

I’m for evolution more than revolution
unless you’re offering some kind of solution.

I’m for the courage it takes to volunteer, to say “yes,” “I believe,” and “I will.”
For the bright side, the glass half full, the silver lining,
and the optimists who consider darkness just a different kind of shining.

So don’t waste my time and your curses on verses
about what you are against, despise, and abhor.
Tell me what inspires you, what fulfills and fires you,
put your precious pen to paper and tell me what you’re for!

More where this came from here. This one makes me smile.

What are you for?

Everywhere. I want to see everything. I want to experience it all. I want to embark on a great adventure with no strings and nothing to hold me back. Float from city to city, town to town, country to country. Middle of nowhere. I want to see it. More than that I want to learn it. New countries, cultures, languages, faces. I want to explore every inch of this world before I leave it.

I want to read a book on a bench in a park in Paris. I want to stand on a bridge in Germany and look out across the city and just breathe it in. I want to stand at the top of a mountain and announce to the world that I am on top of it. I want to go for a run in Greece or Italy and get lost and see my surroundings like the natives. I want to go to Australia and hang out with some kangaroos. I want to go to Asia and be still, watching all the busy people walk by and wonder where they are going in such a hurry. I want to learn about the different cultures in the world and begin to understand them the best way an outsider could.

I have so many questions about the world and the people who live in it. I want to learn about people and cultures and religions and what makes people the way they are. I want to know what influence a persons culture has on their outlook on life. I have so many questions and I feel the only way they can be answered is if I go. Get up now, without waisting another second, and just find out for myself.

I want to post about a foreign country and have the pictures be taken by me. I want to see the world in my own way. Without a plan. No tours. No schedule. Just go. Just experience for myself. Is it naive of me to think it's a good idea? The dangers of the world and it's inhabitants make me hesitant. I want to see yet be unseen. Unnoticed.

This is a Bio-Poem I wrote in September. With small updates.

Because Organized Thoughts Just Wouldn’t Make Sense

Humorous, perplexing, sincere, nonchalant
Daughter of Karlene, Jim, Craig and Whitney - sister to Ken, Steve, Chris, Bump, Muln, and Ellebelle - and favorite aunty to Carter and Rayder
Who loves Sunday afternoons with my family, laughing with close friends, and listening to, singing, playing, and creating music
Who feels the need of serenity, simplicity, silliness, and security in everyday life
Who gives somewhat-useful advice and support, service to those in need, and all I can to make a difference in a life no matter how small
Who fears the the web-spinners in my room will someday consume my soul, the loss of loved ones, and feelings of insufficiency
Who would like to see every inch of this world on my own terms and in my own way, those close to me become the people I see glimmers of sparkling in their eyes, and two amazing people who earth lost in 2005
Resident of infinite worth and possibilities
Megan Davis

My creative writing class has inspired me to write about some things I haven't been able to write about in the past. When a feeling or situation is still fresh, it's hard to put into words. I don't expect any of this to make sense. It's part of my resolution to break down my wall. Here's a few Teach liked:

Untitled
like a Star from the sky
shines.
like a waltz from my memory
the smoke settles and I see.
nothing.
it hit so hard.
the lies.
alibis.
singularity.
it's so lonely here.
it is so cold.
you were so cold.
taste of
cold cinnamon.
winter.
did you get it all
out of your system?
I didn't know.
that night I couldn't breathe.
rebuilt trust
but winter came.
the rock left.
my perfect rock.

A Cinquain
writing
feeds comfort
indefinite happiness occurs
world to be created
therapy

Parting
maps maps
where?
this is
taking too long.
blobs on a page
countries
inches away
January sees Tears
just like September
and July.
a foreign language his
ancestors knew.
a book called Konyve
the North Atlantic
help him forget
meanwhile,
every song
laugh
letter
every moment
helps me
remember.
maps.

thankful
something to be said
of a Man who died for sin
oh, how glorious.
a lonely daughter. we all
need something to believe in.


In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning...
more.
more sugar.
for my...
to make me
crazy!
like now.
inside the heater.
what?
goodbye.

You could guess what these are about. And you might be right. Meaning is... personal. Excuse me if my thoughts create an awkward or uncomfortable atmosphere. Imagine how I feel spilling my guts for the world to see. Enjoy.