A Few Questions

A Few Questions

Why am I doing this?

What am I striving for?

Who is this about?

Where to next?

What have I gotten myself into?

Will I regret this?

Have I given it enough thought?

Am I thinking too hard?

What are my priorities?

Can I live with the trade-offs?

Am I a good husband and father?

According to who?

Am I overly ambitious?

Am I too easily satisfied?

Am I working too hard?

Am I slacking off?

Too driven?

Too lukewarm?

Aiming too high?

Settling?

Is the struggle really worth it?

What will it cost me?

Have I sacrificed too much or not enough?

Why so many questions?

Am I taking care of myself?

Am I too self-absorbed?

What am I trying to prove?

Do I understand grace?

Why are you downcast, O my soul?

Isn't my life now hidden with Christ?

Haven't I been found by the Great Shepherd?

If I know Who is God, why can't I be still?

Somebody

Somebody

You’re my client
But I don’t know you
I've read your case file
But it’s not your story
I've typed your résumé
But it’s not your identity

19 years old
18-month-old daughter
Boyfriend in prison
Parents across the ocean
Looking for housing
Living on the beach

Daughter is healthy
Misses her daddy
You met him at the skate park
He took you to a bonfire
Made you feel special
You thought it was love

He’s not a bad father
But drinks way too much
Works hard as a painter
Controlling in private
Sometimes cruel and abusive
The scars aren’t all visible

One night you defended yourself
With a kitchen knife
The cops called it a weapon
And you accepted the blame
Convicted of assault
With 2 years probation

Whether “homeless” or “poor”
You don’t look like the labels
Your handbag is stylish
Your voice pleasant and poised
You’re no threat to society
Just a girl with a baby

How am I supposed to know

What it's like to be you?

Grad school never taught me
How to fix your life
Am I teaching you anything?
Or are you teaching me?

A Hasty Poem

FRAZZLED

Gridlock and sunshine
Family and church
Termites and research
Grad school and work

Case notes and résumés

Diapers and milk

Haphazard dustjackets

Strewn on a shelf

Baby is coming

Papers are due
Pirates and tea parties
Pigs with the flu

Forwarded emails

Notes and citations

Yawnings and whinings

Blog moderation

Budget cuts, layoffs

Safety nets gone

Bubble baths, basketball

Toys on the lawn

Sleep deprivation

A cough and a sneeze

I'd rather be drumming

Than tapping on keys

Ode to Blue Beast

This week, I'm getting the timing belt replaced on my beloved 1994 Honda Accord DX, who prefers to be called "Blue Beast." It seems like yesterday when Blue Beast was tenderly purchased (with what little tender us newlyweds could afford) in Rochester, New York with a mere 84,000 miles on her odometer. Five and a half years later, her milage has doubled to more than 175,000 which means that it's time for her third (and final?) timing belt. This auspicious milestone provides as good of an opportunity as any to croon my undying devotion.

(Sing to the tune of "On top of Old Smoky")

O marvelous Blue Beast,
My faithful Accord
The height of your beauty
Was back in '94

Your looks have since faded
From "good" down to "fair"
With "racing stripes" fashioned
By hot solar glare

Like all other stick shifts
Or "manual trans"
Your clutch pedal makes for
Left-footed demands

You've been to Mount Rushmore
And the Golden Gate Bridge
You crossed the Pacific
In a big metal "fridge"

(ok, so the container wasn't refrigerated, but anything to make it rhyme!)

My grimy face beamed when
I first changed your oil
To fuel-sipping imports
I'll always be loyal

With hubcaps from Wal-mart
And high beams so bright
You brought home my firstborn
His seat buckled tight

Despite rust encroaching
On your 15-year-old frame
I'll love you forever
Long as Blue Beast's your name