Wednesday, December 10, 2008


Heels scuffing wood floors, 2 morning voices, logs splitting, " The coffee's done", door open,black lab scuffling on the same wood floors, ripping paper, dog howls, door shut, more heel scuffing.
These are the noises that made me stretch for the time.

It's still dark out side, why are people up in the house? It's our second morning of being up this early to the growing familiar sounds here in Spokane. It is a luxury to be in a town you don't live in and know that at the last minute you can call upon a friend and explain your neediness and their reply to your need is great generosity. 2 of our friends Jared and Levy are up this early feeding the fire of the fire place to get the house warm and I am rebuked in my early rise annoyance. I gather any long sleeves i can find and join them in the 4 chairs that face each other around the fire. My eyes then transform these men into warriors as I see them both holding open the word, licking fingers to change pages, finding any pieces of paper to write words down, as the light of heaven floods their soul to make obvious the voice they cling to in the surrender of their day. I'm stirred greatly and then am shown how to prepare the next logs to keep the fire going in their absence, like i'm entrusted with a sacred duty to preserve the life giving comfort of warmth. Testosterone begets testosterone and now I'm awake to the same draw that stirred these warriors at such an early hour

1 comment:

Matthew said...

Pretty, Thomas, pretty. I should listen to your lyrics more...