They Call Me Blondie

spoken word piece by wj... Why the insecurity? Why the confusion, the doubt, the mystery? We awake, the sun rises. Head-strong: confront the day;  plan is? no surprises then it hits – Crisis. Thoughts start spiralin’ “must’ve been…” And the back and forth limbo:  “ was it me? …Or was it he?” And without a word that is even spoken, the devil takes hold and starts runnin… Those thoughts :( “No! Stop!”   For a split second you actually know its not true, but the battle begins and he’s on to you. “ But he meant it by his actions ” …our own mind deceives us and we somehow allow the enemy to convince our insecurities are what make us. Rejection. Annoyance. Not pretty enough. Not thin enough… Dumb. Not worthy of time or space. “ Do they even look at your face? …when you speak ” the voice speaks.   And you suddenly feel

I’ve noticed I’ve been lacking inspiration.  Perhaps even feeling. Maybe, I’m actually numb.  Is it possible to be numb and actually know that you’re numb?  Or is that just something someone else notices when you don’t cry at a Hallmark commercial or when American Idol is chosen and it’s the one who’s overcome the most and triumphed over their upbringing in the hood?  Perhaps it’s a little of both. Its not like I don’t cry. I have my moments when I listen to the radio and hear an overwhelming story about how the Lord saved a teacher and her students from the tornados of OK that just demolished an entire school! – She leaped across her students yelling “we’re gonna be fine, Lord protect us! ” as the kids were screaming in terror and one little guy yells to his teacher “I love you! Please don’t die, I love you! ” – Um, how can you NOT tear up at that story???   But perhaps it’s a bit deeper. Perhaps it’s a bit more personal. Perhaps it’s my guard?  It’s almost like I’ve got my

“IF YOU WATCHED a movie about a guy who wanted a Volvo and worked for years and years to get it, you wouldn’t cry at the end when he drove off the lot, testing the windshield wipers. You wouldn’t tell your friends you saw a beautiful movie or go home and put a record on to think about the story you’d seen. The truth is, you wouldn’t remember that movie a week later, except you’d feel robbed and want your money back. (been there! Ha) Nobody cries at the end of a movie about a guy who wants a Volvo. ...But we spend YEARS actually living those stories, and expect our lives to feel meaningful. The truth is, if what we choose to do with our lives wont make a story meaningful, it wont make a life meaningful either…” In my flight back from Rocklin CA to Denver, I began reading Donald Miller’s book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years and I’m finding I already want to be done with it! ...No, NOT because its bad, but because its so compelling!! I wish I had a photographic memory so I