remember these things

jars of clay . silence

it felt like my thoughts and prayers exploded into 12930 different dreams swirling, crashing, in my head last night.

it was sunday morning, and you were crying in the back, so i came to sit with you.
we were at winter camp, and you sat holding my coat and backpack.
they ended worship abruptly after one song, then suddenly half the chairs and people were gone.
the iv staff worker was at lincoln.
i walked into prayer mtg, and you were there.
you wanted to eat at some sandwich place.
my ipod looked like it was decaying.


i woke up with a headache, and wondering what it could mean. what i was supposed to glean from these, seemingly minute-glimpses into dreams. for the past week, i've been saying a quick prayer about them before i go to sleep.

the afternoon was filled with a surprisingly good conversation about the nature of psalms, and baby-dashing. (ps. 137). then late at night, another filled with the seeds of sin, mental idols, and physical and emotional lusting...


i don't know if
i have the words anymore

take till there's nothing
nothing to turn to
nothing when You get through
won't You break
scattered pieces of all I've been
bowing to all I've been
running to
....where are You?

is. 44.22.... return to me.

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