God, my Anchor

I know I’ve been writing about this a lot. Forgive me. It’s been on my mind a lot.

Does it ever scare you that the universe is infinite?

You could keep floating in space forever. Get lost. Never find your way home. Lose sight of Earth.

And what if we’re all alone? Just us, alone in infinite space. You could keep going forever, and keep finding planets. But no life. No intelligent alien life.

Just the thought of that raises the hair on the back of my neck.

All alone. There’s so much out there. So much.

Without a God, it’s all hopelessly infinite. No home. Space stretching out forever. Time never ending. Infinite past, infinite future, and an ever-fleeting present.

It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever thought.

That’s why I need God.

God is my Anchor.

The Anchor of my soul.

If I were to lose my place in space, my God would be my home.




Wind at midnight

So, I wrote this poem on March 10, 2011 — earlier this year.  Weird how “this year” will soon turn to “last year.”  Time can sure be scary.

Anyway, this poem describes perfectly, I think, what I was feeling.  Mind you, the “wind” I speak of wasn’t necessarily a beautiful thing.  It was my conscience, my God, speaking to me, trying to get my attention.  I was depressed — REALLY depressed — and I blocked Him out.  But for some reason, I wrote this poem.  I didn’t know what the “wind” was.  I had no idea, really.  But I knew it was important.  So here it is.  And I know what it is, now.


The wind blows through

my mind;


Sometimes it comes

at midnight,

When I can’t fall asleep;


It comes subtly at first,

like a raindrop


And translucent

And misty,


And sometimes I don’t notice.


Other times, it’s a flood —

it drenches me

And I cannot breathe.


One day maybe I’ll awake

And I’ll understand

what it has to tell me.



Picture courtesy www.desicomments.com.

The intimidation of the present.

These days, I constantly freak myself out by thinking – maybe this, right now, is all that exists, is really all the time I spend, and anything else is merely an idea, a dream, an illusion; unreal.

I’m serious. Haven’t you ever had those moments when you start to doubt time, reality, and memory?

Like, maybe your entire past never really happened, and you have no future. Maybe the chair you sit on, the air you breathe, everything in life is all an illusion. You’re just crazy – maybe the only person in existence. Maybe a crazy person. Maybe nobody you know is actually real.

And, perhaps most disturbing of all, maybe everyone around you, everyone you know, aren’t experiencing the present at the same time you are. Like, your present is right now, at this age and this year – but THEIR present is 60 years in the future, when all of “your” present has already happened long ago. Or, maybe they’ve already died; and yet here they are, standing before you, alive and in their past. Or maybe they aren’t even born yet, don’t exist in their “present.”

I mean, it’s possible, right? A little strange, a little weird-sounding – but, really, God is eternal, right? God can experience everyone’s present at the same time.” That’s how I reason with myself at times. But at the same time, I know it’s a lie. But I feel doubt.

It’s a very eerie feeling I get when I contemplate that stuff. A very lonely feeling.

Sometimes, I know it’s a spiritual attack, when those thoughts pop into my mind and torment me. There’s no way I can know the answer to these dilemmas. I become doubtful of every single thing in existence.

At those times, it’s all I can do to plant myself firmly in the present, my present. I remind myself that God doesn’t change, ever, and He is not trapped in a time line like I am. Even if I feel doubtful of time, God doesn’t. God is forever.

So, I cling to Him desperately, avoiding the abyss of doubt, depression, fear, and anxiety. I cling to Him while time swirls all around me, moments passing in a hurricane; past gone and spent. I will not let go of my God, lest time crush me in its jaws until I die – then it is gone, and I have no one to save me.

“And you shall remember the LORD your God, for [it is] He who gives you power to get wealth, that He may establish His covenant which He swore to your fathers, as [it is] this day.” (Deuteronomy 8:18  NKJV)



Painting “The Persistence of Memory” by Dali — this copy courtesy my-blackberry.net.

A poem I wrote.

I’m sorry that I haven’t posted anything new in a long while…  Don’t worry, I’m working on a study, but time goes by really fast and I can’t seem to write any good stuff lately, except for a few poems and my journal entries (I’m almost halfway through my ninth journal since February 9 of this year).  And so, here’s a not-that-great-but-okay poem I wrote on Thursday, Nov. 17.  I’m sorry if it’s confusing — ask me any questions about it — but tell me what you think.  It doesn’t have a title.

(You can read more of my poems on my Poetry page — click the tab or go here)

Is it too far out of reach

No, no, not this soon

Not that far away

I’m not ready

I’m too ready

Lord, when will it be

Can I just say

What you mean to me

What do I mean to you

I’ve loved you too long

Couldn’t I have loved you longer

It wasn’t enough

I love you

Did you love me

Of course you’re gone

You can’t be gone

Isn’t that how life works

Everything happens too fast

The blink of an eye

It’s all too slow

A thousand years, no less

Can I stand another second

Can I stand another second of




It’s all drifting away too fast

When I fall

Lord, catch me

Will I fall too far out of reach

Will I drift away from you

My love

This burning inside my soul

All my life

Turning to charcoal

Is it burning away too fast

Is it burning away too slow

Can I stay with you

Couldn’t you wait with me

My love

Don’t disappear

My new life

Don’t reappear

My old life

Yesterday wasn’t me

Yesterday was someone else

We don’t share a face

That was someone worse

That was someone vile

Is anything worth the while

Will anything last long enough

I need my Love to stay

My Love can’t go away

My Love will stay

My Love won’t go away