Monday, August 17, 2009 | By: Jenna

The Little Boy and the Road and the Hole

(a story I wrote...)

There was a little boy who kept falling into a hole. It was the same hole every time, over and over. And even though the little boy didn't like the hole, and the fall hurt every time, he kept walking on the road that had the hole in it. When he told his mom about the hole, his mom told him to stop walking on that road, and in fact, to stop walking on any roads without her. But he didn't listen to his mom because this was the only road to the place he was going... he also didn't tell her about the hole anymore because he didn't want her coming with him. After falling into the hole a couple more times, the little boy decided to tell his friend about the road and the hole and how it was starting to hurt more and more every time he fell in. When he told his friend, his friend asked him if he was sure that was the only road that led to the place he was going. The little boy was pretty sure... but not a hundred percent... but pretty sure... so his friend said he'd like to come with him next time and check out this hole the little boy was falling into. The little boy thought for a moment and decided that would be fine.

So the boy and his friend began down the road with the hole. Along the way, the boy's friend saw another road, branching off from the one they were on. Even though this road looked smaller and longer and didn't look like it was going in the same direction, he stopped the little boy and showed him. But the little boy shook his head and said he was pretty sure that that road wouldn't take him where he was going... not a hundred percent... but pretty sure... so the little boy and his friend kept going.

Finally, the boy began to recognize the scenery--it was the scenery close to where the hole was. He told his friend to slow down and be careful because, sometimes, he would just fall into the hole without seeing it. But he always recognized the scenery, so they decided to go very slowly. The friend was the first to see the hole... so wide and unmerciful, stretching all the way from one side of the road to the other. It seemed to the friend that if someone was determined to keep going on this road, there would be no escape from falling in. He turned to the little boy to tell him, but the little boy was already in front of him, headed for the hole. The friend wondered if the little boy could see the hole this time or if he couldn't, like the other times. When he called the little boy's name, the little boy stopped for a second and looked back and asked him why he stopped. The friend told him that the hole was right in front of them and that the little boy was getting too close--couldn't he see it?

But then the friend noticed that the little boy wasn't looking at the hole right in front of him. In fact, the little boy wasn't even looking at the road anymore. The friend ran to catch up with him and tried to point out the road and the hole and the fact that there was no way around the hole and they should go back and try the other road... but the little boy kept looking at the scenery and pointing past the hole and saying that if they could just jump over the hole, he was sure this was the way he needed to be going (he seemed a hundred percent sure... but he really wasn't). The little boy told his friend to look further down the road and see how pretty it was and to look around them and see how enchanting the scenery was now--now that they had come to the edge of the hole. It was enchanting scenery, the friend agreed, and the rest of the road looked oddly pretty as far as the eye could see, but the friend could still see the hole plainly, and the hole was not pretty, and the hole hurt, and the hole would not let them keep walking down the road looking at the scenery and heading towards... well, whatever the little boy thought he was heading towards...

If you ask the little boy what happened next, he might not be able to recall. He might tell you that he fell into the hole again because he took more steps towards it, even while his friend was talking. Or, he might admit that it would have been disappointing to have gone so far down that road again just to go back and try the other road... so he tried jumping this time instead.

He will recall that his friend pulled him out of the hole and that his friend walked back to his home with him. And he will remember that his friend was not scolding him or ignoring him or calling him stupid for being... stupid. Instead, his friend was guiding him, examining his wounds, telling him to rest on their way, and sometimes quietly crying, just because he was sad the little boy couldn't see what he could see...

...But the little boy could see all of that.

If you ask the little boy whether or not he is going to fall into the hole again, he might not be able to predict the future... he might not be able to say that even though the hole hurts, the road or the scenery or the pretty other side will be easier to not think about and look at and want to go to. But maybe he will say that he knows the road always leads him to the hole, which hurts to fall into more and more every time. And that he knows the road is more dangerous than the hole itself. He might be able to say that he is not going to take that road anymore. He might even admit that his friend was right and that the other road is probably a much better option.

He will be able to say that his friend is a good friend... that his friend has offered to try the other road with him. His friend has good eyes, so he will help the little boy see other holes if they come across any. The little boy hopes that he has good eyes again someday... ones that don't just look at the scenery. He hopes that he gets eyes like his friend's... ones that can see when the hole is too close and when the other side is actually not very pretty at all.

The little boy wears glasses right now. He hopes that someday he won't need them. When his mom asks him about the glasses, he just smiles and says he is training his wandering eye. And when she asks him whatever happened with that hole he told her about, and that road leading to the place he was going... he smiles again and says that he and his friend decided to take a different road. He tells her not to worry and that it is a better road.
Because he's pretty sure he wants to go to a different place now...

No... a hundred percent sure.


The Middle.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009 | By: Jenna

What DOES it sound like?


I haven't blogged in a while... Probably because I haven't read in a while. Usually when I'm not reading, I'm not getting much motivation to write... Yeah, that makes sense. But I have been writing songs lately... I find that life in general motivates me to write songs. More specifically, life as I encounter it in other living people motivates me to write songs.... I write a song when I see a homeless man digging through the trash for food. I write a song when I find a girl too afraid of her past to move forward. I write a song when I hear about prostitution... and then meet its oppressed firsthand. Or, I write a song when I meet Jesus again firsthand... and when He makes Himself known through the life of a friend.

I write joyful songs... though some may seem less "happy" than others.
I write hopeful songs. All songs should have a glimmer of hope in them...

I write songs full of thought... because my own life is saturated with it. And if the songs I write don't provoke others to think too, then I don't know what the heck I'm doing here...

Sometimes I struggle with finding the right words (There are so many words in our world). But God refines those as He refines me more with His... So I don't worry very much about lyrics. I think about them and revisit them and pick and choose and change them with purpose... but I am rarely anxious over them.

Melodies, however, are a different story. Melodies... I need to hear. I don't know what else to say about melodies right now, other than- there must be a million of them in heaven... If I could just hear the melodies of heaven...

"Whatever the angels are singing..."

...Sometimes I dare ask God to let me sing "whatever the angels singing..."


This is a little bit of why I haven't read in awhile, I suppose...
I've been preoccupied with trying to hear heaven.