Sunset.

12-30-2007

I Want To Be In the Sunset

For as long as I can remember, I have felt the need to be in the sunset. I want so badly to feel and experience the entire splendor which I see from it. The clouds are vibrant because of the sun. The clouds are actually what I am most interested in. The clouds are what make sunset take my breath away and make me jealous of the sky surrounding the clouds at that time. I just want to be there, to feel it, to be beautiful, to be soft, and to be stunning. The clouds take on a life they are not capable of supporting on their own. They need the sun, and the sun makes them what I treasure most. I want to be the clouds so that I too can feel the warmth of the sun. I am too far. I am too much apart of this world. I don’t want to be. I never wanted to be. As a child, I would have much rather chosen to be in the sunset than to be in the world. It seems better there. It seems undistracted. It seems cherished. It seems like it is everything I want so badly. It seems sacred. It is peace. It is not confusing. The sunset is not confusing at all. It comes everyday. There are, of course, different sunsets, but it still comes, once a day, every single day of life.

Things I Love...

March 14^th, 2007

By: Sarah Christine

Things That I Know I Love

I know that…

I love the Lord for His merciful grace which I do not deserve

I love with reckless risk and blind eyes again and again

I love to fall asleep with big sweatshirts on

I love being with my sister and brother-in-law

I love the feeling of being clean after a shower

I love toasted marshmallow jelly beans

I love having a basketball in my hands

I love the smell of Lake Tahoe in the summertime

I love Cory more each and every moment that I exist

I love taking long drives while I get lost in the scenery of far off places

I love talking to my cousin Jaime on the phone

I love my tattoo because it exemplifies my desires in one word

I love when people make me CDs

I love post-its, paperclips, and notepads with lines

I love it when sand buries my feet

I love to watch House Hunters

I love the feeling of walking down the ramp onto an airplane which is going away

I love being at the beach in any type of weather

I love taking pictures of everything

I love pink lady apples with JIF peanut butter

I love to travel the world with only simple necessities

I love orchids

I love drinking diet Pepsi with sprite mixed in

I love writing people cards and sending them in the real mail

I love the ideas which are found in Psalm 139

I love stickers, quotes, and anything that sparkles

I love children

I love drinking cold water when I wake up in the morning

I love my childhood dog: Maggie

I love Nilla Wafers

I love the feeling after I have just finished straightening my hair

I love iced white mochas with nonfat milk and no whip cream

I love decorating and rearranging things

I love change

I love being an English teacher and a basketball coach

I love buying things that are on sale

I love jeans and tank tops

I love poetry and prose deeper than I would have expected

I love caramel apple pie from Costco

I love

To Life.

To Life

I have heard it said before,

“Don’t wish your life away.”

I want to keep you genuine.

But I dream for tomorrow, today.

It’s not that I refuse to love you.

My heart does not bow that way.

It is juxtaposition, dear Life.

I battle to seek paradise each day.

Come and meet me here, Oh my sacrifice.

Slow my eager energy, if you may.

Sweet life, I’ll never see these hours again.

I’ll treasure your simple gifts, in their array.

Impatient thoughts tempted to trudge tedious time.

Oh life, still my wild wonderland and say,

Love me now… “Don’t wish me away.”

Sarah Flanagan

8 May 2007

You Are My Story.

You Are My Favorite Story;

You Are My Story.

28 September 2007

Life is a mixture of simultaneous stories.

Everyone has their own thesis.

Moments, Days, and Years combined

Cooperate in silently explicating the individual.

The lessons we inherit without our consent

Are deep vignettes within themselves.

The stories feel separate sometimes

When we seem to be the only ones reading…

Reading the words which have been stitched into our hearts.

Our short stories line up in life order.

We cannot control the words of our prose.

We can only hope that at some point,

Our story will speak itself to the world.

“Whom do you tell your stories to?”

Assuredly there are angels in my life:

Friends who’ve stayed to hear each collection of letters.

I’ve shared my chapters with these people.

Our stories long to be proclaimed aloud.

Our needy heart demands their boldness.

We want our truth to be heard,

So that we no longer feel crazy within.

The past is bursting with key components

Which give sound to who I am.

The vulnerable words of my life are now spoken:

No longer hidden in the solitude of moonlit nights.

He is faithful, safe, patient, and willing

To decode the messages I send forth.

I tell him my stories, every day.

At times the energy of my poetry sings,

And at others my voice forces a whisper.

He listens from the introduction through the conclusion.

I feel heard; I feel truth; I feel complete.

All of the pieces to these stories

Have finally arrived at their theme.

They are woven together in God’s sovereignty,

And his plans for our lives.

Waiting to find you was a hard work of hope.

Living without you was the previous chapter,

And now we begin to write the rest of our stories.

You are my favorite story;

You are my story.

For: Cory Michael – On your 31^st BIRTHDAY!

Love, Sarah Christine

To a new beginning which we will now write together.

Let Us.

“Let Us”

Let us take walks in the afternoon sunshine

And lay beneath the clouds sometime

Let us go to look at the ocean sparkle

And smile whenever we see old people

Let us walk in a shaded orchard one day

And always hold each other close to stay

Let us kiss on every hilltop that we can

And always submit ourselves to His plan

Let us purposefully read the Bible together

And belong to each other for more than forever

Let us cuddle close when it’s cold outside

And never think our secrets we should hide

Let us take naps at every chance we get

And when wavering, by each other’s side sit

Let us share the deep depths that do exist

And walk barefoot by the ocean’s mist

Let us travel the world and explore far off places

And meet various people; remembering their faces

Let us give all that we are able to each other

And always share what we have with whomever

Let us stare into the sunset without a word spoken

And accept the times when either of us is broken

Let us rise when it is dark to welcome the sun’s rays

And pray aloud to our Father for one another’s days

Let us be in and not of this world in which we dwell

And open our arms for embrace when our eyes swell

Let us share our scars, weaknesses, apprehensions and fears

And know that love is not bound by a certain number of years

Let us constantly be truthfully honest and genuine

And support each other while we travel through time

Let us understand that at times we will be silent

And not allow our confusion to become violent

Let us consciously dive deeper into love during the common day

And bring out the best in each other like they say

Let us seek to find the mysterious tendencies we possess

And appreciate those differences in merciful humbleness

Let us cling to our togetherness when the world gets dark

And be thankful for the gift of love; an ever fixed mark

Let us explore all of the things we encounter but knew not of

And know that this isn’t perfect but it is definitely love.

Sarah Flanagan

I Would Have Loved...

I would have loved to be able to say…

June 27^th, 2005

I love the way you wake me

To share that you love endlessly

I love the way you brush my curly hair

And reaffirm your honest care

I love the way we walk with the day

You know how to listen to what my heart does say

I love the way you ask sometimes

About my dreams through dark nighttimes

I love the way you follow Jesus closely

You act His love; I understand He could love me

I love the way you are gracious always

Peaceful youth I will remember all my days

I love the way I know you are sincere

Fighting through this battle alone I do not fear

I love the way you send me on

You convince me that you’ll never be gone

I love the way you tell me I am your perfect girl

So that I do not doubt myself in this evil world

I love the way you try to hold my hand

Though I no longer need your help to stand

I love the way I know that you ponder

How my heart endures while we are not together

I love the way you wait patiently

While I leave your presence but temporarily

I love the way I can easily trust you

Not having to rework each thing you do

I love the way your words always flow

And how their truth holds sure I know

I love the way you call just to say

You’re thinking of me and care that day

I love the way you always visit

To spend time with me because you miss it

I love that you will walk me down my aisle

Knowing my father’s love, allows me to truly smile

I love that your heart will never let me go

And as I go through life, your love for me will grow

I love the way you always provide

I can let you, my heart I do not need to hide

I love the way I know you will go

With me to Heaven where we will glow

I love the way I have always had you here

You have always been my daddy, and I have never had to fear.

To: The dad I never knew

Love,

Sarah Christine

For My Sister on Her Wedding Day.

The 29^th of July, 2006

To the Bride, my Sister

“Through the Years”

I still remember the days of ponytails, and

Wavy hair wrapped up in those satin bows.

I was dressed to match you, my older sister.

April, you’ve been with me for my forever.

You have always been so sweet and together.

Sometimes I longed to possess your soft spirit.

There is so much behind your eyes of strength.

I am thankful to be one who may see through; see you.

Whether I told you then or failed to,

You were my hero, as you will forever be.

As kids the lessons of life hit us early and often,

But your smile and presence brought hope to broken days.

I knew that my sister painfully understood,

Unlike anyone else in this scary world could.

We are as different as the sky and sea sometimes, yes.

But our God has always known that we would need one another.

You took care of me through our lonely years.

A strengthened bond came from all of those shared tears.

We never did actually know for certain,

But we held fast to a hope that there would be another side.

My sister, April, you’re a true angel here.

God created you with a genuine purpose.

You’ve accomplished great things in your twenty-six years,

Each step you’ve conquered, I’ve been joyously proud.

Your excellence as a young woman I admired quietly.

I adored the times I would watch you play basketball.

You cherished friendships, and loved the unlovable.

To describe you, I need something stronger than these words.

I cried the day you became a teacher.

I knew how much it truly meant for you.

I felt like you had finally reached that other side.

I don’t tell you enough how proud I am of you.

I’ll be honest; in regards to love,

I expected the absolute utmost for you.

Nothing less would satisfy me, for you are too precious,

I was never afraid to tell you when I didn’t see true love.

Dear sister, today you’ll be happy to hear,

That I most certainly approve of the one who stands beside you,

Jeffrey Michael is the man whom the Lord has always kept for you.

His love is true, honest, pure, and his love is forever yours.

I know that this marriage means so many things to both you and your husband,

From your sister’s perspective though, it simply brings peace within my heart.

It is assurance that you will be taken care of faithfully and lovingly.

It is confidence that God has carried, and will always carry you through this life.

You have been waiting for this day patiently,

It is here, this is it; you are in this moment now.

Look around, breathe deep, smile and be beautiful you.

Today you don’t begin a journey; rather you join your journey with his.

Thank you for being the sister I could never live without.

My soul sings in anticipation for the rest of our lives.

We’ve made it thus far sister, and we’ll always remember,

Your wedding day; when you sparkled and Heaven smiled down.

April and Jeff, Congratulations on your new journey together,

Look around and see all those who love you in this place.

Always remember that love is, above all, the gift of oneself.

To have you both in my life is a blessing I know not the depth of.

In closing April, please let me add…don’t forget to invite me over, or make me dinner.

Don’t forget that I should always be the first babysitter you call, ALWAYS!!!

Don’t forget that I will be there for you whenever you need me.

Don’t forget that I am the one who loves you; then, today, and forever sweet sister.

I Love You.

For My Sister,

April Marie Stone

Love Forever,

Sarah Christine Flanagan

I Hope You Know.

I hope you know

For: My future husband.

Love, Your almost wife.

December 2^nd, 2007

I hope you know that I think about you all day long.

I hope you know that I don’t like to be without you.

I hope you know that I pray for your days.

I hope you know that I take what you say very seriously.

I hope you know that I admire you.

I hope you know that I need your strength to make me strong.

I hope you know that I am impressed with your loyalty to family, friends, and life.

I hope you know that you are an outstanding teacher.

I hope you know that I would be completely lost without you.

I hope you know that I count the days and hours until I can be with you.

I hope you know that you’re a good daddy to our dogs.

I hope you know that my life with you this past year has been my best year.

I hope you know that your love carries me through the day.

I hope you know that I have learned a lot from you.

I hope you know that you’re exactly what I need.

I hope you know that you’re who I’ve always asked God for.

I hope you know that spending my life with you is what I am most excited about.

I hope you know that I love it when you hug me.

I hope you know that you make me feel like I have a place in this world.

I hope you know that I feel safe with you.

I hope you know that I am completely in love with you.

I hope you know that you’re the most important person in my world.

I hope you know that you’re the best man I have ever known.

I hope you know that a day without you is harder to get through.

I hope you know that I love knowing I always have someone to call.

I hope you know that you’re my favorite.

I hope you know that I am tired and grumpy this year, but it won’t always be this way.

I hope you know that I really want the next four months to pass quickly!

I hope you know that I need you.

I hope you know that I love you.

I hope you know that you’re my best friend.

Apple Pie.

Carmel Apple Pie

Carmel Apple Pie is everything good in the world. It is enough for me. It is simple complexity. Most people eat one thought out, emotionless, and organized slice of cake, but I delve into perfectly done yet utterly unorganized strips of apples with pockets of distinct beauty hidden underneath shelter. My life is a constant battle to swim with those who are swamped, walk with those who are weighted, talk with those who are tangled, run with those who are wrapped, speak with those who are speechless, sit with those who are sick. I get away from the world; I close the world outside; I lock myself in a chamber of untouchable. My life with Carmel Apple pie is unchangeable. My life with Carmel Apple pie is me. It will stay the same forever, just as the color my eyes will never wander from their boring brown hue.

Carmel Apple Pie is of a higher status than that of regular ol’ apple pie. It’s funny how you’re not allowed to compare anything these days. We all have to be completely fair with the words which we speak. It is like how you have to tell your Aunt Magdalena that you enjoy everything on your plate, when really most of it is awful except for one unfathomable quadrant of your meal, that without thinking it possible, you actually love. You are careful; I am careful. Carmel Apple Pie is more than best, and I’ll certainly and shamelessly profess it to the world. I will not be careful to be fair in saying so. You can tell a lot about a person based upon which kind of apple pie they pride themselves in, if any at all. The people who don’t see apple pie for its grandeur are a completely different story. The crumbles of brown sugar, which live on the top to face the world proudly, keep the secrets of the pie hidden. The unspoken insides stay hidden, only to be discovered by souls who wish to venture deeper into the discovery of being filled up with apples: with life.

The most mentionable Carmel Apple Pie is locked safely inside of the binds of Costco. It takes perseverance to get one of these pies, especially if you’re a child. The list of required necessary actions is lengthy and completely worth it. I would rather spend my life acquiring these apple pies than filling out paperwork, racing to complete the to-do lists which I have scattered onto countless shallowly colorful post-it notes, attending meetings, and feeling as though I barely have time to allow my body to breathe in deeply. I don’t know how to breathe in deeply. Being with a piece of pie which is partly protruding off my plate pleases my pressed schedule. Apple Pie reminds me of when I was ten years old and my mother began to trust me. She trusted me to be her help. My mother has always needed my help, but she didn’t realize that when I was ten. The apples were sour green. I peeled the skin off each one of the tart green balls of splendor. My mother devised the perfect plan for the crust. She instructed, and I admired. The end result was contentment. The process of making a pie far outweighs the indulgence of devouring one. Making the pie with my mother that day when I was ten links apple pie all the way to my forgettable childhood. Apple pie is everything good in the world.

A Poem for Cory.

January 29^th, 2007

A Real Life Fairytale

I find myself contemplating your existence

What does it mean for me to invest in these thoughts?

I find myself smiling in remembrance of our shared moments

What does it mean for me to shine abundantly within?

I find myself beginning each day with honest prayers

What does it mean for me to share faith with you?

I find myself being thankful for those painfully shattered starts

What does it mean for me to have seen both sides now?

I find myself expressing the genuine truth of who God has created me to be

What does it mean for me to feel so simple and still?

I find myself believing that my purpose exists

What does it mean for me to be convinced of His sovereign plan?

I find myself singing songs within my secret mind

What does it mean for me to feel enlightened like a child?

I find myself pursuing all of my ventures more boldly

What does it mean for me to realize the results of hope?

I find myself wondering if you’re safe and happy wherever you are

What does it mean for me to risk my heart’s existence outside its protection?

I find myself wanting to belong with you

What does it mean for me to feel this deeply?

I find myself wishing that you’re feeling the same way

What does it mean for me to be insecure?

I find myself believing in every part of you

What does it mean for me to finally fathom this dream?

I find myself feeling in ways I’ve never envisioned

What does it mean for me to live A Real Life Fairytale?

~*Sarah Christine*~

We have what people dream about…

Thoughts & Statements.

Writing completes me. I love sunsets, sunrises, and clouds more than most people can fathom. It takes awhile for me to let people inside my true world. I am both stronger and weaker than you know. I enjoy the simplicity of roaming around doing errands in the presence of good company. I crave depth in all genres of existence. I'll only share coffee with you if I trust you. All things that sparkle intoxicate me. If I could, I would eat only pancakes and apple pie for the rest of my life. I am addicted to punctuating and capitalizing. I wish more people used 'your' and 'you're' appropriately. I find myself less deserving than others. I prefer squares to circles. I can never have enough photographs of life and its occurrences. I waver restlessly between belief and hopelessness. There is a distinct purpose for everything I do. There are details about myself I have yet to discover; I intend to unveil them. I take quotations extremely seriously. Saying that LOVE is important to me, is quite an understatement. I choose the color of my slurpee straws based upon my current mood upon purchasing. I want a huge library. Two words that inspire me are: three & genuine. Making decisions based on what I'd like to do it not my forte. I relate everything comparatively. I am inconsistent; nevertheless, at my core, I exist to glorify Jesus Christ. Lake Tahoe is a tradition I will never let die.

There are few things I often ponder; the rest of me is just details. I love the Lord, because I am nothing without Him. I desire to make my life a result of that claim. I love my family; I will always hold on to hope. God does all things well. I love those people in my life who are my beloved friends. Life should not be lived in solitude; we were created to go through life together. I love to laugh. It reminds me that life is enjoyable. I love to teach. May my learning never cease. I love to read. The power of words organized for a purpose is pure. I love to write poetry. It is my favorite way to express my honest heart. I love to love; the need is great. I cannot fathom Christ's love for His wavering children. I love to gaze upon the mastery of God's creation. A day with strategically placed clouds helps to make my heart still. The Lord blessed me with a guy who has a growing relationship with Jesus Christ. He is someone who will laugh and be stupid with me sometimes, when the world seems all too serious. He is someone that also feels that this world is not his home. He is someone to go running with in the sunshine or at the beach. He is someone to play basketball with or just be myself with. He is a guy to look at old photos with, take drives with, and he is someone that I can talk to about anything and everything. He is someone who makes me better, just by being himself with me; we are better together. He is a guy that cares about what really matters in this life, and wants to go through it together. He is someone who will listen to me while I read him my poems. He is someone to cuddle under a big blanket with while reading the Bible or any book. He is a guy that can talk about his past at times, because going through it, has made him who he is today. He is a guy that will hug me, kiss me on my forehead, hold my hand and accept the wonderful along with the depths. He is a guy that will be willing to listen to my story, and understand that it helps explain who I have become. He is someone who epitomizes genuine. He is someone who will stay.

The Root of It All.

The Root of It All
Sarah Clarke
4 February 2009


At the beginning of it all, the desired end is young people who know how to act right. I wake up, I teach English, but what I want them to learn has very little to do with English. I coach basketball, but what I hope they gain has little to do with winning games. I have come to realize that I find myself in many different leadership positions. I teach. I coach. Daily, the results within my view are meager. The results, they are hungry. They are unseen. I do not always see, and I am discovering that perhaps the design has nothing to do with what is visible to me.

I am an instrument. I can choose to be used, or I can choose to waste these blessed places upon which I stand. Alone. The life I have been given is a lonely one at times. I did not choose loneliness as a child: I choose it now. This loneliness of which I speak, it is not sad. The loneliness does bring tears. The loneliness does bring doubt. Above all, the loneliness is my passion. I do not speak of being surrounded by none. I encounter innumerable young faces each moment of my week. Mrs. Clarke, Mrs. Clarke, Mrs. Clarke. Flan, Flan, Coach Clarke. What makes it lonely?

I suppose that this is one of my latest epiphanies. I have a vision. By grace, I have learned excruciating lessons. Should I keep these lessons to myself? I am passionate. I feel. I connect and relate everything, and I mean everything, to what it takes to be a person of desire, character, and love. I have chosen to share. I take my roles seriously. I cannot settle for mediocre when teaching life. I do not want to let young people go through my life without learning something about the world.

If you cannot remember to bring your books and supplies to class, how are you going to remember to pay the rent on time? If you cannot remember to show up to your job on time, you will no longer have that job. If you cannot turn in your assignments, how are you going to prove that you are the best candidate for a job? If you cannot be respectful in class, how are you going to have respectful relationships? If you cannot speak without profanity, how is anyone going to take your seriously? If you cannot stay awake in class, how are you going to stay awake during business meetings? If you cannot communicate with patience, understanding, and perspective, how are you going to keep friends? If you cannot strive, how are you going to follow dreams? If you cannot conquer simple tasks, how are you going to face enormous, and possibly life changing, challenges? If you cannot listen, how are you going to find someone to listen to your heart? If you cannot smile, where will you find happiness? If you do not speak, will anyone know you are here? If you cannot question, how will you discover what you believe? If you cannot get beneath the surface of what is seen, how will you know depth?

If you cannot show commitment, how will you learn what it means to be a part of something that is bigger than yourself? If you cannot show up to practice on time, how will you remember to pay the bills? If you cannot fundraise and work hard for the basketball gear that you are provided with, how will you learn responsibility and accountability? If you cannot take care of your uniforms, how will you take care of the belongings you pay for? If you cannot work hard, how will you ever accomplish anything on your own? If you cannot play defense, or try at least, how will you know the importance of teamwork. If you cannot take a charge, how will know the true significance of self-sacrifice? If you cannot talk on defense, how will you communicate to your loved ones in a time of emergency when your role in their lives is vital? If you cannot get better at decision making, shooting, passing, ball handling, and essential basics, how will you respond when self improvement becomes necessary? If you cannot rebound, how will you know what it feels like to want something more than everyone else does? If you cannot dive on the floor for loose balls, how will you value the most important things in your life? If you cannot encourage, how will you make yourself the type of person that others cannot live without? If you cannot find your attitude and edginess, how will you deal with watching others take what you desire? If you cannot honor this game, how will you honor your life? If you cannot heed constructive criticism, how will you know how to make yourself better? If you cannot respect your teammates and their individual personalities, how will you survive in the sea of unique faces: the world? If you cannot be wrong, how will know what right is? If you cannot be silent, how will you cherish the value of words designed for a unique purpose? If you cannot push yourself beyond what is comfortable, how will know what you are capable of? If you cannot be fearless for moments, how will you handle perpetually living in fear? If you cannot be competitive, how will you find a place for yourself to stand? If you cannot lead at times, how will you live with always being someone whose thoughts are unspoken? If you cannot trust the ones who have come before you, how will you be prepared to impart wisdom to the blessed children who will someday follow you? If you cannot be a good example to those who look up to you, how will they know what living rightly actually means? If you cannot remember the lessons you have learned, how will they help you? If cannot take your role in this world seriously, how will you deal with being treated as if you are a joke. If you cannot communicate your hurts and frustrations respectfully to those in authority, how will you be heard: understood? If you cannot trust with your whole heart that some leaders know what you need, how will you open up your stubborn mind and let wisdom fester?

I speak to this to my students. I speak this to my team. These are the thoughts that run through my mind. I want you to understand grammar rules and offenses, but what I am most passionate about is you. Your heart, your decisions, your actions, and your ability to move on to whatever your future may hold. My job is lonely. You do not understand why I say and do the things that I do. I accept that. I am aware that my presence in your life is not about me. You may not understand now, but when you get to your tomorrow, hopefully you’ll use some of the tools I have relayed to you. You are worth the days when I feel like no one else in the world understands. If I wanted everyone to love me, I would not be teaching and coaching. “I have looked at clouds from both sides now.” I have seen the world through your eyes, and I have ventured on to see the world’s mountain tops and valleys. I followed leaders who taught me how to act rightly. I was stubborn. I was angry. I was misunderstood. I was taught, and now I am blessed to guide you in ways that are promising. I have seen unsuccessful, and I have turned my back on it. Success is not measured by what you do; it is measured by the strength of your character. Who are you when no one else is looking?

I have not arrived. I learn from you as I lead. Let us all give in to pursuing our utmost in a world of mediocrity. Perspective…

More than words can say.

More Than Words Can Say

Sarah Flanagan – February 24^th, 2008

What is love? Do we even know? We certainly do not know how to explain, to those we so desire to convey it, our depth of love? It’s completely ironic how the deepest feelings we have are impossible. They don’t fit what we need to express or are capable of uttering. You have heard it said before that, “I love you more that words can say.” That doesn’t get the message across; it doesn’t even scratch the surface of what I need people to feel. I don’t just want them to know; it’s so much more complex that having the words said audibly. For example there one who has inspired my thoughts so far on this subject than ever before, and has caused me to actually write them down tonight. Timothy Patrick Flanagan. I need you, and a few others to know. You laid there helpless in your bed for many days without words, yet you heard us as we spoke to you. What is there to say in a time like that? What can let one human heart feel at peace with saying the right things? The right things cannot be said: they can be attempted, but they’ll never be enough. We’re all inside our own minds with God at times, looking at the world through majestically designed and powerful eyes. Take for example this: the day you opened your eyes and looked at me. What can even possibly use as a description of how that felt. It would be a completely unjust attempt at the rush of powerfully uncontrollable amount of love felt inside of every corner of my weak body as I stood beside your bed and held your hand. Why did God give us this ability to love beyond measure? That’s the thing; it is immeasurable and frustrating at certain times of pain and joy. I said many things, I always say many things. The reason I attempt and cherish the use of words because it almost gets me to a place where maybe, just maybe, you and others can see a glimpse into this incapable heart of mine and my yearning to tell you how I want to send my love to your weaknesses and fears. I want to send them. How do I send my depths to your depths? Why isn’t it possible? That is the way it has always been for families and loved ones. Are they satisfied? Perhaps they realize the sacredness of family and the ability to accept the fact that telling and showing isn’t what families do: they know. I am not certain why my heart wants more. I secretly wish that I could open up my hurts, joys and hope for you, and pour them heavily upon you. If I could link my heart to yours, I would ask my heart to empower yours with all that I dream for you and see in you. Love is scary and beautiful. The one who wants to explain it using feeble attempts feels it passionately. Since we are human and worried about making others uncomfortable, we save our honest depths and thoughts and store them in the corners of our minds. I wish you could go there. If you could see inside the corners and secret places that I save thoughts for you, you would know. I wish you could know. Here is one of the things going through my mind tonight and always for you. This was there before your accident and it remains there, because I don’t know how to replay it to you and bring it any credibility. “Lord, I need my little brother Timothy. When I was 10 and he was 5, we stood together holding hands by the front door of our house. We were scared. There was loudness in our hearts that night. I wasn’t thinking about my safety, I was merely realizing my role in my sweet younger brother’s life. I wanted him secure, and I wanted him to feel safe in this world. I am almost 25, and he just turned 20. I feel the same. I hate the distance that crawled between us as we’ve grown older. The events that now fill up my days are no comparison to the importance of knowing and loving Timothy. I have worried about his safety as he’s grown older. I never wanted to receive a phone call that he was not okay. When that phone call happened Lord; on January 23^rd 2008, my world was completely, yet temporarily stopped. The world shifted beneath me. Lord, I can’t tell Tim how much I love Him, could you tell him for me? Why haven’t you given your followers and beloved ones the ability to express their souls through words? In many ways, you have, but I want deeper. Show me deeper. Tim needs you God. You saved him and you saved my heart. I’ll visit him during his recovery, but in case I can’t find the words, could you connect my heart to yours Lord, and yours to Timothy’s heart and send him my daily message of love? That’s the only bridge I can find. My words are not good enough. Tim will hear me, and I think he knows I love him, but I want him to know for sure. You’re the only perfect message. You’re my only hope to send Tim my deepest most hidden and truly genuine love. Wrap him Lord in your peace, so that he may know our love. Let us not attempt to try so hard, but convince ourselves that it’s not up to us. Each day I’ll think upon him and each day you’ll cover Him like you’ve always done.” Having said all of that, again, I realize my ineptness. This is quite possibly the reason God has given man a limited connection through words and actions. If we were able to completely love each other, maybe we wouldn’t seek with honest brokenness for a Lord we need more than anything else in our existence. I talk to Tim, and loved ones. I write them letters, cards, emails, stories and poems. The reinforcement makes each side feel better for a time, but it fades. Maybe I am naïve and have not yet realized that when someone tells you they love you once, it is good for a lifetime. Tim, our lives have been different in some ways in comparison to others lives. We’ve not been sure of the validity of human word or action. It takes me awhile to be convinced of genuine feelings. I don’t know your perspective on it all. I don’t have words little brother; I am just like everyone else. I will always tell you that I love you, and more importantly, I will show you my passionate concern for your well-being and happiness. So, in knowing that words will never be enough along the journey; I will attempt to use a few. I love you. I have loved you since the day you were born, and every day in between. Your safety has always been one of my concerns. Your smile warms my soul. I am proud of you. You have taught me more than you’ll ever know. I enjoy being with you, it gives me a feeling of closeness to you that encourages my depths. I don’t always understand what you’re going through, but I understand going through unbearable times. I’ve know your journey, and I know it hasn’t been easy. I’ve always wanted to shelter you from pain. I would take your pain upon myself with no thought if I were given the chance. I know you love me too. I think you’re smart, strong and completely capable of whatever God lays before you. I have always dreamed to know that you talk to God and ask him to carry you through this crazy world. I always speak highly of you to those I know. You complete our family, and without you I don’t think I could have continued to be who I want to be. You help to fill in the missing colors to our paint by number dreams. You’re going to make changes in this world that will be unforgettable by many. You are a man of strong character and you are capable of much. Tim, “Live You Life on Purpose.” I want to do the same. We’ll do it together, and we’ll do life together. You’re never alone. Words are never enough, and I struggle with the battle of understanding that fact within the binds of my finite mind. Those are a few things I have not always shared, but there is so much more than I even realize. Know that it’s there. Know that the Lord is our bridge to each other and he’ll show you His love and mind.