When the wind washes over brown meadows
For the last time at the end of Earth's days,
And gone forever are the grim shadows
Of sin and death, humanity's malaise;
After the words of the wide world are spent
In vanity, striving after the wind,
And the last war sends back men who were sent
In glory, drained, to (be buried or) mend;
Yes, after all these, the Maker of all
Things that have been in life as we knew it
Will take the fear in which Earth is enthralled
And cure it; creation, and renew it.
Redeeming the world in a holy blaze
Returns the eternal Ancient of Days.

When you lose someone you love, that grief never fully heals in this life. If an axe gets stuck in a gash in a tree, it's never going to be the same. But over time the tree, your soul grows over and around the wound. Soon you can only see the axe handle from the outside. Eventually, after years and years, it isn't visible at all; you've grown stronger, and your wound doesn't hurt to the touch. You never forget that it's there, and there may be seasons in your life when it still aches, but you can keep going and be okay.

Revelation 21:4 - "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away."

So what I'm saying is hope in time, not to heal wounds but to teach you how to live with them, and hope in Christ, the great physician.

It was the summer of 2013
That at the tender age of 16,
     I plucked up my gall
     And pooped in a stall
Of a public bathroom, you see.

But much to my consternation,
The girl next to me's disapprobation
     Manifested itself
     In a spritz of Chanel
In an effort to mask my stench-sation.

I waited for my comrade to leave
Before creeping back into McD's,
     But alas, we made awkward
     Eye contact and faltered
For we both knew what we had just seen.

up at 3:30 on a saturday night with church in the morning

I solemnly swear that the following set of limericks has NOTHING to do with my friend Dave who sometimes sports a neckbeard. Sorry buddy, if you ever read this, the name just rhymed.

There was once a neckbeard called Dave.
He was anti-theistic and brave.
     Fat poured over his speedo
     As he munched on his cheetos
And chugged mountain dew, the old knave.

One day good ol Dave got to thinkin,
As he jammed to his vinyl Park Linkin,
     "I've got to remove
     From mom's basement, and prove
That my life's not a ship quickly sinkin."

So on an epical journey he went
To get his life in in conditional mint:
     But he quickly lost interest
     And got an invite to Pinterest
And so all of his effort was spent.

Now Dave is brave more than ever--
He roams reddit trying to look clever.
     Extreme halitosis
     And buttocks necrosis
Complete his euphoric endeavor.

As the holidays approach, I feel in my heart a sadness for the family we've lost and yet a hope for the future. I almost feel guilty for being, on the whole, at peace, when I know how Uncle Byron's family is suffering. Indeed I'm anxious and grieved for them. At the same time, I know on a deep level that Byron is happy now -- this time last year he was just beginning to be sick; last Christmas we thought he would die -- and that this first holiday without him is the first step in his wife's and daughters' healing. Things will only get better from here. 

welp

Alright so in the almost 2 months since my last post I have:

- started my senior year (obviously)

- gotten double jaw surgery.

My upper jaw was crooked and I had a huge overbite. So they went in and fixed it. I can only eat soft food and I'm still numb in several places.

My soul is pretty numb right now as well. Uncle Byron is back in the hospital, under sedation, fighting off ARDS and leukemia, but I don't think that's even the only reason. Not sure what else it would be though. I don't feel depressed or anything, just... kind of blank.

I really have no idea. I'll get back to you, internet.