Thursday, December 31, 2009

2009 Quote Review

It's time for an annual quote review. Here are the best from 2009!

“Webbed toes are not cute on babies.” ~ J

“The throat opens up like Rosie O’Donnell eating a cake.” ~ Cuthbert

“Speaking of wanton destruction….” ~ Cuthbert

“I don’t want to be God. I don’t even want to be a supervisor.” ~ H

“One fish, two fish, red fish, jaded fish.” ~ Cuthbert

“Mount Rushmore looks just like that, except it’s huge and it’s not made of cheese.” ~ Seth

“It’s basically like Star Wars outlining the fall of the Roman Empire.” ~ J

“Gay card beats woman card.” ~ Cuthbert

“Balls is not a verb, just for the record.” ~ H

“Your body is not like toast; you can spread cold butter on your body.” ~ Betty

“It might be good to date someone who’s not, like, a flaky toolbag.” ~ Cuthbert

“Momma, I have your nipple covers!” ~ Little Miss L

“I kind of just want to poke a Quaker, to see what they do.” ~ Mia

“You should really ask permission before you set yourself on fire in someone else’s apartment.” ~ H

Jack: You know, Christian groups are always getting all kinds of free property. That’s what we need to do.
H: We need to become Christians?
Jack: No, we need to get shit for free.

“I am totally not chasing fire trucks to find our new house.” ~ Lisey

“When someone can look you in the eyes and say, ‘Me too,’ and they actually mean it – it can save you.” ~ Rob Bell, Jesus Wants to Save Christians

“Corn fields are the scariest things on the entire fucking face of the planet.” ~ Douglas Coupland, Generation A

You may notice that the list seems a litle shot this year - its kinda hard to get in on the action where the good quotes are happening when one has a newborn. Next year, we're going all out.


Monday, December 14, 2009


i long to be
a candle, flickering in the dark
settled in the shadowed corner
a servant of
the God of the Dark Places
the God of raves and tattoo parlors;
of bar stools and smoke-filled back rooms

i long to be
a flame, fanned by the whispers
of the dark of night
an expression of one
who made beauty out of blood,
Redemption out of Death;
who spoke into the dark to create

i long to be
the salve on the self-inflicted wound
soothing the need for pain
a remnant of one
from which beauty creeps
infusing the broken and bleeding,
defiling the Sabboth with healing

i ache to be
the tool of a heartbroken God
whose tired sighs call me to action
a weeping Christ
who looks into the tomb
and grieves while he heals,
who honors our struggles with tears

i ache to be
an expression of love
for one whose being is love
a flickering flame
for the desperate and damaged,
the addicted and abandoned;
the ones who are just like me

i long to belong
to the God of the Dark Places