Pumpkin cookies

"What do I say?" I thought, as I was paying for the loaf of garlic bread and pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. "Is it even appropriate to bring something?" was the next thought in my mind.

How could cookies possibly replace a person? How do you make something like that better? How do you make up for someone jumping off the roof of a building?

Somehow cookies seemed like the only thing I could offer my distrote friend as I pulled up to his house. My heart was punding hard in my chest as I walked through his open front door. I heard voices in the kitchen. What was I to expect? How would he look? Had he been crying? Was he in shock?

As I entered the kitchen I held the plastic bag out in front of me and smiled. "How are you?" seemed like the natural thing to ask, but then again I knew how he was. His roommate had been found dead at the bottom of the student union early that morning. The police were saying suicide. I couldn't bring myself to ask the natural question because it didn't seem appropriate. It seemed contrite and unthoughtful. A hug was the only thing that seemed appropriate at the time, so I grabbed him and wrapped my arms around his neck. We lingered there for a moment, and I could sense he was just glad I was there at all.

As we parted, I found them all gathered in the kitchen. He was eating a bowl of spagetti over the sink. They laughed about the ants taking over the kitchen and he thanked me for the food.

My heart ached for his lose. How do people recovery from tragedies like this? I know it happens. People suffer every day, but somehow this one seems so unrecoverable, so real, so close. Why? Why did he do it? Why couldn't we do anything? Why is the world round? Why does the Sun rise every morning? Only God knows. That's the hardest part about it.

Crushes, butterflies, and all things sound

You know that funny feeling you get in your stomach when someone you have a made crush on looks at you, or talks to you. It's that same feeling you get when you read something they wrote, or smell something that reminds them of you. The feeling that your stomach is floating on marshmallows and your face gets all tingly, you can't help but smile, and your heart begins to race a little.

I got that feeling just now, but suprisingly there was no boy involved. The tingles came as I was putting the finishing touches on my club talk for this evening. I was sitting there writting, and I thought about my kids faces, all bright-eyed and naive, starring back at me begging for some shred of knowledge about Jesus. Then my heart started to race and I realized I was excited to give me talk tonight. Don't get me wrong, I have no problems with public speaking, but it doesn't usually make my heart race with joy or excitment.

Blessed be your name, when I'm found in the desert place, though I walk through the wilderness, blessed be your name.

Blessed be your name, when the suns shining down on me, and the worlds all as it should be, blessed be your name.