The Dancer – a poem for a stripper

She shakes the thought of her father

As if a literal move of her head

Would drain the haunting memories

Of how he left her nearly dead

 

Perversion, greed and muscle fatigue

Trembling knees and thighs

Wondering what kind of man will pay

For a dancer with tears in her eyes

Three Months to Love

I cried today…

…when I took Angel to school, dropped her off, hung out a while and then had to leave when it sunk in that no chaperones called in sick and there was no room for me on the field trip to go see “The Adventures of Frog and Toad” play downtown. That was one of my favorite books i used to read to Angel and Braylon in Texas. I waited until I rounded the corner to the hallway, and the tears took me off guard. I couldn’t hold them back for nearly 20 minutes. I guess…you just never know when it may be the last day you have with someone you love.

…when it dawned on me that our friend since before we were married, Nate, may not live through the summer. He is 38. It is a reality, the cancer that is growing, spreading in his body. And although our God is just as real, Nate’s Doctor is giving him three months to live. And I just typed “love” with my big thumb, instead of “live”, which is really more accurate. Three months to love.

…when Angel put on “Hymn of Remembrance” by Warr Acres, on my iPhone and plugged it into the loud house-speakers.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S63GblduLcs&sns=em)

…when I texted with Kim my sister in law, and was reminded of how much they are missing in Texas, not bein here in the NW… & how much she is missed here. Their family not being here just does not seem right and it makes me sad that they are 2100 miles away. Perhaps a Foursquare pastor position will open up around here and they will get to move back.

…when I watched Love Happens ~ a romantic drama with Jennifer Aniston about a motivational speaker who has a hard time overcoming his fears and denial about the death of his wife three years prior.

…when over dinner, we told Braylon and Angel the news of Nate’s prognosis & failing health, and Braylon began to cry, using his purple tee shirt to dab his tears. My eyes welled up too, when I saw his emotions showing. And then Angel said her eyes were getting watery. She is not as close to Nate as Bray. And doesn’t quite understand the finality of death like Bray might. But she is certainly compassionate and suddenly becomes sad when she sees others sad.

…when I called my friend and fellow musician, Shawn, to ask if he would be willing to play the song I wrote for Nate, and he said he has all day tomorrow free. Now I’ll be able to sing it while he plays acoustic, & Kenny is making himself available to record it for Nate to be able to listen/watch it on YouTube, (per his request as he spoke w/Ricky tonight).

I’m tired now. I’m fasting. Which is making things more exaggerated, I’m sure.

Thank you, Father, for bringing me through today and for the sweet short visit from my mom who brought me my dinner: a Venti White Mocha, extra hot, w/an extra shot.

20130515-232031.jpg

Rubberband (my love song to Ricky)

Rubberband (my love song)

Written May-June ’09. Posted by: chelan on: July 22, 2009

vs.1

D                                      G

Your love is a rubberband, I’ve just come to understand

D                                              G                                 A

That whenever I go away I obey… its law of attraction

D                                      G

I need more than audio; sign in to Gmail video – oh, no…

D                                                               G

But that won’t even cut it close when I think of your hand

A

On the small of my back (and I whisper…)

Em                                                          A

Ooh,Ooh-Ooh,Ooh-Ooh,Ooh-Ooh,Ooh-Ooh! Can’t get enuf of u

Em                                          A

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh! You smell like work and espresso

Em                                          A

Hey, h-hey, h-hey, h-hey, h-hey /

Em

Until we’re old & gray…

A

Till our last living……Day

vs.2

The night we broke up, I went limp in your vice

You begged & I saw right through your disguise

But we cried & slow-danced until 5. We didn’t care

In the parking lot of Washington Square

vs.3

Remember our freshman year – that first day?

All the flirty games we used to play

They always built up to New Year’s Eve

When our lips would join forces again (and I’d say…)

Chorus


(rotate A & Em)

Till our babies’ babies… have lots of babies

Till our last living day

Till all of our senses (just) fade away

Till we haven’t the strength to reach out &

Join our wrinkly hands

And our souls are one voice that rebound to

Heaven like a rubberband

(finger-pick  ”Em/A pattern” for one more bar)


chillin’ out on the fridge: lessons in comfort

you can have a heart of compassion…

even with a mohawk.

you can sing, you can beat-box, you can distract, you can pray

you can write, you can call, you can wipe tears away.

lessons in comfort from a 5-yr.old.


fathers, sons, love & forgiveness

wait! this one’s a long post, but it’s a good thinker, hang with me here!!

But when the right time came, God sent his Son, born of a woman, subject to the law. God sent him to buy freedom for us who were slaves to the law, so that he could adopt us as his very own children. And because we are his children, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, prompting us to call out, “Abba, Father.” Now you are no longer a slave but God’s own child. And since you are his child, God has made you his heir. – Gal 4:4-7 (NLT)

i love how God sent his Son to earth, spoke to him as his Son, & treated him as a Son should be treated. now we have the awesome privilege of making that comparison with our own children. we can see so much more clearly how to parent our own, and even more importantly, how to view ourselves as the precious, priceless children of God we are. when we hurt ourselves, are hit w/sickness or feel pain by another (in any way), he is immediately there to pick us up, squirt some bactine, give us a bandage & a hug if we will dare to reach for him. ok, not literally, but at least thru the body of Christ if you’re plugged in somewhere & absolutely thru His Word. but so often when a natural father disappoints, we attribute those failures and faults to our heavenly Father. why?!?! i guess doubt creeps in…squelching our faith in any kind of father figure. with every shattered hope, from sexual abuse to never receiving a hug; from an unfulfilled promise of a phone call to a no-show during the birth of your daughter, comes an opportunity to do one of two things. either

a.) build walls of protection to no longer “feel” hurt (which like denial, never really works) or

b.) dare to reach with faith as a child in a desperate state, for our Father in heaven.

hmmm…case in point ~ it’s 2:18am & my daughter, who’s fighting a fever & goopy droopy eyes just woke up crying. it was only natural for me to get up at the sound of her cry and go to her, give her medicine, pray & rock her in my arms. i wonder…how much more does our own Creator & Saviour long for that closeness every time we cry.

i’m learning (from books by john bevere & also nancy missler), that a danger in building protective walls is while they seem to keep hurt out, they also keep love in. in order to love as God does, unconditionally, we h a v e to make ourselves vulnerable. if we hold anything against them, we for our own growth need to say to our earthly father figures (if only in our minds), ‘you may have wounded me. it’s not okay, but i will still love you, because now that i am a child of God, i aim to love as he loves. completely opposite of natural love…it is this new agape love. the kind that is not selfish. expects nothing in return. gives until there is nothing left to give…& wants to then give more. nothing you can do can weaken…or strengthen it.’

it’s really hard for me to understand this love. the more i think about it, the more i want to crouch in a corner & hide. it seems like just about everything i do has some kind of ulterior, self-seeking motive. i used to hate the phrase ‘oh, get over it’, but it’s starting to become my friend these days. i so don’t want to be that easily offended person people talk about & tip toe around.

because we let the sins of an earthly father figure offend us to the point of resentment, trust seeps out the cracks & our love grows increasingly hard. as the Bible puts it: “and because iniquity shall abound, the love of many shall wax cold.” (matt. 24:12 KJV) what an image this scripture conveys! like candle wax when the flame is snuffed out, the surrounding air within minutes begins to harden it. we are surrounded by iniquity like air. but this says to me that only when i choose to overlook an offense, will my love remain soft, vulnerable, and of God.

He is that burning light that feeds my love for others, every day. i wish i could love, serve, speak, parent more like him…but i’m so glad that he sees my progress thus far, and accepts me as i am.

praise you, God.

“Instinctively we try to be like our God, and if He is conceived to be stern and exacting, so will we ourselves be. The truth is that God is the most winsome of all beings and His service one of unspeakable pleasure.

The fellowship of God is delightful beyond all telling. He communes with His redeemed ones in an easy, uninhibited fellowship that is restful and healing to the soul.

He remembers our frame and knows that we are dust. He may sometimes chasten us, it is true, but even this He does with a smile, the proud, tender smile of a Father who is bursting with pleasure over an imperfect but promising son who is coming every day to look more and more like the One whose child he is.”

– A.W. Tozer (1897-1963) from The Root of the Righteous.