My body is a cage that keeps me
From dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key

My body is a cage that keeps me
From dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key

I’m standing on a stage
Of fear and self-doubt
It’s a hollow play
But they’ll clap anyway

My body is a cage that keeps me
From dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key

You’re standing next to me
My mind holds the key

I’m living in an age
That calls darkness light
Though my language is dead
Still the shapes fill my head

I’m living in an age
Whose name I don’t know
Though the fear keeps me moving
Still my heart beats so slow

My body is a cage that keeps me
From dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key

You’re standing next to me
My mind holds the key
My body is a

My body is a cage
We take what we’re given
Just because you’ve forgotten
That don’t mean you’re forgiven

I’m living in an age
That screams my name at night
But when I get to the doorway
There’s no one in sight

I’m living in an age
That laughs
When I’m dancing
With the one I love
But my mind holds the key

You’re standing next to me
My mind holds the key

Set my spirit free
Set my spirit free
Set my body free
Set my body free

Set my spirit free
Set my body free

Compulsive hoarding

pathological hoarding

disposophobia

Call it what you want, it is the selfish acquisition of possessions (and failure to use or discard them) in excess of socially normative amounts, even if the items are worthless, hazardous, or unsanitary. Compulsive hoarding may impair mobility and interfere with basic activities, including cooking, cleaning, hygiene, sanitation, and sleeping.

It is not clear whether compulsive hoarding is an isolated disorder, or rather a symptom of another condition, such as obsessive-compulsive disorder.

(These paragraphs are from the Wikipedia page for Compulsive hoarding. Check it all out here.)

BTW, even in writing this paragraph I’m laughing at how much more mystery I’m creating in your mind than understanding. The beauty of my situation, is that I don’t have any health issues at all, just funky structure. I guess other than being thin, short, having a crooked back and some sorta wonky hands, I’m… (name this movie)

Fit as a fiddle and ready for love.

I can jump over the moon up above.

Fit as a fiddle and ready for love!

I haven’t a worry, I haven’t a care,

I feel like a feather that’s floating on air,

…

It’s hard to describe or even know how it actually effects other people and their perception of me. Most people stare for a while, or ask if I need special treatment. Usually I can get away paying the handicap fare instead of the adult fee on the bus of Ferry. (Score 1 for STEVE.)

From MY two eyes I look out and see the same world and think the same thoughts and live the same life as everyone else. In fact I doubtless live a better life than many. Similar to being short or tall or skinny or fat, it has shaped my personality in many ways, but, all things considered, it has clearly been a boon rather than a bane. I’m more confident and free than most people will ever be.

by “STEVE”

To whom it may concern—I have missed you too…

THE STORY:

While this might sound selfish or contrary to our calling to ‘deny ourselves’, in recent months I have been stepping back a bit from the many overlapping communities I find myself in-between, and reducing the amount of myself I pour into these friends and comrades. Space, for a time, will hopefully allow me and ‘you’ to each take our own social paths in life according to our needs and hearts.

“There but for the Grace of God, go I.”

By the power of His word and the stirring of The Spirit, I am starting to reach out, care for people… and miss friends again. But I, like all, need others to reach out to me at times too. And the lack of such effort by many whom I deemed to be close has exhausted me thoroughly. 

THE REALITY:

I pray in THIS confidence: “when I am weak, He is strong.”
Sadly, I justify the discontinuation of friendships, the ignoring of opportunities to love my neighbor, the seeking of ease instead of holiness, by legitimizing my selfish desire for personal care from all else in the world BUT Christ. 

Lord almighty, call me back to you. Like Peter, might I FIRST: lean on your breast for comfort; call on your name for strength; read your word daily for wisdom.

Jesus, grant me more faith.

by “STEVE”

Live like a child.
Pray like a child.
Eat a hot dog…
like a child.

Sweet joy was envisioned this morning as I watched my friend’s 3-year-old son dancing to the songs, whilst I played drums at church this morning, (they were sitting right up front.) I had been forgetting–a bit too much–the Joy that is Jesus. So often I loose it and my life becomes flat and boring. What a lame way to live!
by “STEVE”

It’s the basic creative process of old—first observe. Then articulate what you observe.

“A wise man holds his tongue” so that when he speaks—or creates—they are words bathed in the sweet waters of truth.

As I reflect back on Easter and the almighty work of The Father and His Son Jesus, I find peace despite my regular falling into folly.

Christ is the ultimate wise man who speaks words of pure truth in only the perfect moments.

by “STEVE”

But radiance that from thy beauty, not from sun,

Did warm my heart and give me life at last.

by “STEVE”

I say all this in hopes of removing from your mind any straggling bits of worry or concern that I was angry at you for separating us. Sad? Yes. Bitter? No.

Hope this helps and finds you well in the care of our Savior. :-)

“STEVE”

I don’t get mad about much and speak up about it. But knowing that the MLS already has a reputation for being “physical” makes these two incidents this weekend VERY disheartening.

I, like many, want very much to see the MLS stand out as a world class league that can attract the best players and gives us the glory and drama that soccer is capable of—we’re committed to the game we love. BUT, scenes like these, paint a grim future NOT filled with top international talent, and unfortunately also a future not filled with our own, top, home-grown talent. I find myself falling in love more and more with the teams and leagues over-seas that, yes are tough, but have a culture that allows “real” players to play, dazzle, entertain and inspire us.

It is true we can over-idealize European leagues, but really, in the end, they are light-years ahead of us, largely because we can’t get beyond our overbearing brute-force mentality.

(the truly sad thing about this all, is that it’s actually a deeply embedded part of US culture, not just an isolated MLS problem.)

Sounders till I dies… but Everton, Napoli & Real Madrid til I die too!
“STEVE”

“There are years that ask questions and years that answer. Janie had had no chance to know things, so she had to ask. Did marriage end the cosmic loneliness of the unmated? Did marriage compel love like the sun the day?”
—Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God