My Fancy, Fish Friend

It is fun to be the fanciest fish in the pond,

but as time passes and you find yourself in bigger bodies

of water-

in river and lakes, even oceans-

you discover that there are fishes equally fancy as you,

and they too were once the fanciest,

so you all have to learn to coexist,

to compliment one another rather than challenge,

for this world, as large as it is,

remains at the same time very small,

whatever you put into the waters-

love or hate, strife or support-

will inevitably come back around.

So, play well and keep on swimming,

my fancy fish friend.

Equality is a Wave We Should Ride

I have moved to a new land.

Once, I was unaware of myself,

of the color of my skin-

Yes, I was vaguely aware- 

now I am painfully so.

 

I see my brothers and sisters 

pledge violence against me,

even though I am one of them.

How can this be?

 

How can my own people ride on horses,

wielding spears of hate?

They say they do not hate, that they love.

They are only against those people,

and not me;

yet, I acknowledge that

in the heat of the moment, there is no separation.

In the fury of battle, 

the sword swings broadly;

it takes no prisoners.

 

I pray that we all would have eyes to see

that there are no “those.”

We are only ourselves.

If your neighbors are your enemies,

then all are enemies,

and if your neighbors are friends,

then all are friends.

 

For that reason, this is my plea:

that we tear down the Walls of Division;

that race and gender and language  melt away;

and that we would unite as one people

in Christ and under Christ and for Christ

forever and ever. Amen!

 

For, until we have equality,

there can be no peace.

Nothing Can Be Done

“I’d like to request a transfer,” she said.

She was Shandy Rains: kindhearted, attractive, and one of the top sales reps at her firm.

“What? Why?!” he said.

He was Nathaniel Harris, her immediate supervisor.

“It’s Gil. I can’t work with him anymore.”

Nathaniel leaned back. He had known Gil for some time. Wasn’t the best worker in the biz, but a good man nonetheless.

“Gil? What’s wrong? Did he say something to you?”

She shook her head.

“No. He’s never said anything. Never done anything. I don’t know, he just- he unnerves me.”

Nate laughed.

“That’s the nature of the biz. We all get on each other nerves. That’s how we know we’re being effective.”

She looked down and away.

“Not like this. Now and again I’ll catch him… looking. I mean, don’t get me wrong, lots of guys look, but with him… it’s different.”

Dammit, he thought as he leaned forward, fingers interlocked, resting his weight upon the desk.

“Give him some slack. His wife just passed.”

Charlotte, Gil’s wife, had died in a car accident several months previous. Nate had attended the funeral.

Shandy fidgeted and scratched the back of her neck.

“I know that, and I thought it would go away after he had time to… mend,” she said, “can’t be easy after all those years to go back to an empty home. But it’s gotten worse. Usually I can take it, no prob, but it’s gotten worse lately. I can’t pretend anymore.”

He drummed his fingers on the desk.

“Worse, how?”

“I’ll see him. He’ll come by… accidentally. Sneak a peak. I’m tired of it.”

“So you want me to tell him to get lost?”

“I want you to fire him.”

He stopped tapping.

“You know I can’t do that. I’d have nothing to stand on. The firm would get sued for wrongful termination.”

She stared him down, but she also knew he was right. There was nothing in the books to throw at him. No official harassment. Just a feeling.

“I quit.”

“Shandy-“

She threw a hand in the air.

“Him or me, Nate. You decide.”

He couldn’t lose this fight. Then again, he couldn’t win it either.

He bit his bottom lip and said, “I’ll put in a good word for you.”

Her eyes blazed with an all-consuming, incandescent fire. The fire raged and then died, leaving only the blackened smear of a soul behind.

“I see. Consider this my two weeks then.”

He sighed and nodded.

“Okay,” he said emptily.

She turned to leave.

“There are more of me out there, you know,” she said with her back to him.

“I know. I’m sorry. Nothing can be done.”

She sniffled and stormed out.

Nate slammed his first upon the desk as his own words rang through the empty room.

Nothing can be done. Nothing can be done. Nothing can be…. done.

Pilate

Some long for “the good ol’ days,”

but I often wonder when those days were,

for it was not long ago that women were,

legally,

little more than servants

and minorities slaves

and anyone with any disability whatsoever,

mental or physical,

was to be locked away in poor houses,

neglected and abused.

No, friends, we cannot go back,

for to go back would be to be like Pilate,

who knew what was right

and what must be done,

but feared loss of face

and public outrage

and so washed his hands of the matter,

and handed over responsibility

to the bloodthirsty mob.

For that reason, we must press forward,

with Christ as our guide,

toward a better tomorrow.

We must do what it right,

because it is right

because it is good,

because we can.

Manning Up

Screen Shot 2015-10-09 at 5.02.41 PM

Women are doing all kinds of cool stuff nowadays. They’re excelling in school, they’re stepping into previously gender-segregated arenas, being vocal about their needs.

Guys, I gotta be honest, we’re falling a little behind. We’re flunking out of school, being relationally reticent, not taking the initiative to provide for our (potential) families.

We can do better.

I love being a guy. We are a proud sex. Time to live in a way worth being proud of.

Signature_2