CHAPTER 2 : The Truth

Sent: 3/27/2002 10:29 AM

What must be done to show the love of Christianity? How is this truth communicated in a way that is heard?

God is Love. Today, the word "love" is tossed around like a plaything. Even the words "heart" and "feelings" are becoming cliché as the years wear on. A huge heart hung in a store window with the word "Love" written on it would seem a beautiful thing, if it weren't for knowing that Valentine's day is just around the corner. Some of our most beautiful and important words are losing their value, as the world’s true intentions behind these words no longer justify them. Just the other day, I was speaking with a friend and said, "Oh, you know, my heart just feels love." Immediately, I am looked at with strange eyes, as if I'm speaking a language that no one can understand. Our vocabulary is changing. How is the truth communicated in a way that is heard?

The symbol of Peace. When we see crosses, many emotional responses occur in us. I have a beautiful crucifix hanging in my room. I found it while attending October Fest in the Catskill Mountains with a friend. It is Peruvian in a dark, rough wood, carved in a very impressionistic, and somewhat abstract, manner. Christ is shedding a huge tear over his cheek from his left eye. His eyes are closed. He seems in prayer. He is peace. Whenever I walk into my room and see it: Love! However, there are mixed responses from guests who see it. My room became the coat check for a party we were having, so as jackets were taken off or gathered, our guests had the opportunity to see the crucifix. Oh the array of emotions and thoughts that erupt when we see Jesus hung on the cross! Some feel very disheartened. Some immediately feel guilt. Some feel disgust or contempt. Some see it as an exquisite work of South American art. Some think, Chad's Catholic. Some think, Chad's crazy. Some see something they absolutely don't understand. Some see God dying for humanity and fall in love all over again. With all these different emotional reactions, how is the truth communicated in a way that is heard?

I sob for Christianity. Poor Christianity has been mutilated and twisted from the beginning, and perhaps that is a part of the plan, but nevertheless, as Christ said, He has brought division among the earth and certainly not peace. Christians, ourselves, squabble with one another over the most trivial things. I was involved in a debate over a card game when I was in college about the actual moment in which the Holy Spirit comes into your body. Were you saved at the point of baptism or when you accepted Christ as your Savior? If you accepted Christ as your Savoir but weren't going to be baptized until the next week, and on the way home, you had a wreck and died, would you go to heaven or hell? The conversation is laughable, yet that card game was a heated discussion of sincere seriousness. Did the conversation matter? Should it cause a further separation of God's people? Division, division, Division! It pains me. It exhausts me. Christ prophecy may be correct, but Christ's message IS one of peace! It is one of love. Love each other. LOVE. How is the truth communicated in a way that can be heard?

CHAPTER 2 : Wind Chimes

Sent: 3/23/2002 5:18 PM

It's a windy, cold day in New York, today. I just returned from perpetual rain in Arkansas. Funny how the weather affects us so. I find myself wanting to lay in bed, down comforter around my chin, warmth soothing my aches, listening to the wind chimes I just installed outside my window. The melody of the chime is inconsistent, but beautiful. No, I'm not depressed. Isolation is not only the by-product of saddness. Isolation can be quite joyous. It is here, I find a different kind of peace.

The phone has called to me at many times during the day, but I left it unanswered. Only one left a message. Smile. And yet, I don't wonder at the others.

My hands are cold. There is a chill blowing through the room. Pieces of paper taped to my wall rise and fall in its wake. Crisply, it blows across my fingertips sitting still upon the keyboard. I wonder why I'm writing you now, and what I'm longing to say. So many feelings rush forth, and I find myself overwhelmed. Inundated, I become confused. What is this journal entry all about?

Perhaps it can just be my voice echoing across the internet canyon from a peaceful, secluded isolation. And, perhaps, faintly, you can hear the words from my heart. It crys for your happiness. I want you to be happy. My emotions, like the chimes played by the wind, sound from within me. I'm sad that you aren't happy. I'm happy but wishing you were here. I'm sorrowful for the pain you feel. I'm angry that you have so much fear.

It is my deep, unconditional love for you that allows you to be the wind through my heart today, playing my every emotion. And if for no other reason, at least be happy for the sweet music you make within me. Special.

Thank you for that.

CHAPTER 2 : Connection

Sent: 3/21/2002 9:42 PM

A little tyke in my sister's fourth grade class with wide brown eyes and new white teeth asked me was it different in New York after September Eleventh. I had to stop and think what it must mean to their every little faces. Perceptions.

The shockwave of 9/11 splashing into middle America seems to have washed ashore 'lost'. For I was home in Arkansas feeling hopelessly lost. I didn't know what to think. I didn't know how to feel.

As I attempted to sleep on my twin bed in my old room last night, I kept tossing and turning. It was an uncomfortable night midst the amazing dreams. (Flying indoors.) Sleepless, I surprisingly awoke feeling not lost but rather, disconnected.

I paused before Tara's class, and looked into their glowing faces. I didn't know what to say. My perception to theirs was so very far apart. What was the single fiber that would connect them? What is the truth?

"You know what I want? I want us all to try and get along and love each other."

Connect.

CHAPTER 2 : rain

Sent: 3/13/2002 8:01 PM

(Roses opening gracefully in the midst of dying lilac is quite beautiful.)

It's raining in New York City today, and, from what I hear, it is a much needed relief from a drought we've been having. Shamefully, I hadn't noticed. I thought all these pretty blue skies and clear, star-filled nights were super-dooper, not realizing that the earth was suffering. And I hadn't noticed. See, I can recall days of clouds and rain and me feeling hopelessly depressed, as I wandered aimlessly about with a little black rain cloud overhead, pouring. My eyes were so tightly closed, if there was sunlight, I couldn't see it. I wouldn't see it. Those were hard rainy days struggling, praying for sight. Drowning. Flooded.

And thank God, my eyes were opened.

Unfortunately, though, whenever it gets cloudy or rainy outside, I can still feel that old feeling of saddness. It's always difficult to break from that emotion while walking to work in the rain, hair matted to your head, soaked to Fruit of the Looms. =) Okay, no, I haven't been upset that for a while now, the skies have been brightfully clear. And being so overwhelmed with consistent bright sunny skies, I forgot to take a look under me to see what's holding me up to that light. Selfishly forgot, I'm afraid.

Earth holds me up. She's my mother.

Thankfully, she is being rescued today by steady falling rain outside. The little black rain cloud which I had thought was over my head all those years has mysteriously transformed into a rather large black kettle springing endless water for my Earth. She must be thrilled. She laughs as the kisses of life plip-plop to her lips. Limitless. Nourishing. Spring must be close.

CHAPTER 2 : Roots

Sent: 3/9/2002 12:11 AM

Leon bought lilacs. They are standing in a blue glass vase just to the right of me. Now, two days later, they are showing signs of dying. The white drys burned. The green droops rather than flexes. The brown pales. It makes me rather sad.

Plants are forever in a moment. Each changing to the very next moment, in perfect rhythm. There are moments of birth and rebirth. There are times of budding and times of shedding the most recent layers. From moment to moment, plants grow.

It is also in this way, our spirits grow.

CHAPTER 2 : Cocoa Puffs

Sent: 3/5/2002 8:15 PM

I have a friend who I am in love with. Still. After all this time. It's true.

Every time I see him, he makes the room glow as he shines my heart warm. His smile fills me with so much joy, I cannot help but smile as well, even if I'm wanting to frown. His soul is so good.

And this good soul is dressed in s-e-x-y. No, let's not forget about his sexiness, because that's very true too. This boy could charms the pants off of any one of you, literally.

I am so in love with him.

What's a friend to do? Friend. See, we're just friends. He doesn't even want that kind of relationship with me. What is a friend to do with all these love emotions that are bottled up inside, "Friend" corkdom?

It's very hard, let me tell you. I am not finding it an easy challenge in the least! It is difficult trying to maintain that balance between my 'in love' side and 'friend' side.

And, unfortunately, I am failing all together. I find myself being a very bad friend because of it. I'm being very selfish. I have made some pretty selfish statements. (I'm very sorry for that. So very sorry.)

I have a friend who I am in love with. Still. After all this time. It's true. What's a friend to do?

Alas, some things just aren't meant to be.

Sadness in letting go.

Joy in moving on.

CHAPTER 2 : Table for two

Sent: 3/1/2002 8:46 PM

A well-known actress was waiting for a friend at Le Cirque for lunch one afternoon. It had been four months since she had broken up with her boyfriend, and, single, as she waited, she eyed the attractive men dining. She was somewhat shocked to find to find one of them lock into her gaze. He was so attractive. His eyes didn't move from hers. She blushed a smile and had to look down.

When she looked back up, he was walking towards her. "Would you care to join me?" he asked, extending his hand. She laid hers softly in his and greeted, "Well, I'm waiting for a friend." "Come have a glass of wine with me while you wait," he said smiling. He was so very handsome. She smiled in exchange and accepted.

When they were seated at his table, he said, "Aren't you . . . ?" and she blushed another, saying "Yes, that's me." He looked dazzled and almost chuckled in his affirmation. "I love you. I mean, I love your work. It's brillant." "Thank you," she smiled.

"You know, now I have to go back and watch every single one of your films just to see if you look as radiant on screen as you do in person." He smiled. Very charming. He knew just what to say.

"I mean, I'd ask you out if I wasn't gay," he said taking a bite of his salad.

The actress stood, took her glass of wine, and splashed it in his face. She looked around the restaurant. "Let it be confirmed. ALL men are jerks."

- - -

Isn't it funny that I can see myself on both sides of the table?