(Written 10/8/19)
Hey everyone! I’m a follower of Jesus, husband to Jeanette since 6/5/93, father of five children ranging in birth years from 1998 to 2011, and live in Manhattan, KS. I’m on staff with a campus ministry called Ichthus (ichthusmhk.org … though nothing I write here is “officially” Ichthus).
I started writing poems in November 2017. Except for like a school assignment in 9th grade, I’d never done this. I didn’t think I could do it–I had even said over the years when thoughts and emotions would be swirling in certain ways in my mind and heart, “If I could write poetry, I’d write a poem about this… but I can’t, so…” Usually though I just wouldn’t even consider it–poems have always been kinda weird to me. Other than a lot of lyrics, I have trouble reading them–even biblical poetry (which there is so much of) has been largely hit-and-miss for me. I always feel like I’m missing something.
But for various reasons in November ’17, I started trying my hand/pen at poetry, and I found it unexpectedly … something. Delightful? Yes, though contested. Connecting? Yes, but connecting what? It’s tough to put into words … maybe the best way to try is that a few weeks into it when I shared a couple of them with a close friend, he said “That’s the most alive I’ve seen you in a long time.” His words allowed me to admit (this creative process is so opposed, isn’t it?) that there was something deeply resonant and good happening when I wrote poems. I felt joy when I wrote. I felt joy when I thought of writing. I even felt joy when I looked at the world with a “What if I wrote a poem about this?” mindset. And if I’d give myself permission to view the world in this way (even as it felt “right,” it felt wrong somehow–wasteful perhaps), then I found things flowing, even things I hadn’t had in my conscious mind coming forth onto paper, sometimes in ways that I really enjoyed in a way that’s — again — hard to put into words.
So… I’ve written a fair number of poems for and about my wife. A couple about my kids. A few about my friends, one in particular. One for a wedding. But most of them are just ideas coming into my head and/or my attempt to wrestle through my life, and so I haven’t shared most of my poems with other people, except Jeanette. Why would I? It seems sorta pretentious. Would people want to hear them? Would they be meaningful/helpful to them, or is it just some selfish desire to want to be heard? And further, I’ve found it really vulnerable to share them, a sentiment I’ve found many others who write or create share.
And yet … the idea came a while back to do a blog, but not the usual format–just to post some poems I’ve written. Sometimes ones I’ve shared HAVE been helpful and enjoyable for the people I’ve shared them with. And I do think it’d be fun, though a trifle scary, to put some out there and see how people engage with them. It also can be a way for people who interact with my life or ministry in other settings to get to know me better and help them make their decisions about how much they ought to trust me. 🙂
So… a few weeks ago I finally put this idea of a poem blog on Facebook and a long-time friend graciously jumped in and set this site up for me. I love including my middle name. It’s my dad’s first name, and his dad’s before that. It’s my second son Jensen’s middle name as well. There’s just something about it I like. (I also like that my name has the 4-7-8 letter pattern, which has various sorts of intriguing appeal to me haha.)
Anyway, here we are! One last word: I may post once. I may post more. I may post once a week, once a month, or go long gaps between. I am fiercely resisting any sort of expectation or (mostly internal) pressure related to it, and exploring it as one more way to experience the freedom of life under our good God. These last years have been the culmination of a long breaking process in my life, and I have indeed broken through into a new place. I know God as good in a way I never have. Not in my head/from the Bible, but in my life–I KNOW it. I believe it. I’m grateful.
Now speaking of pressure … to pick the first poem …