Whispers From China

Something strange happened tonight...

While at work here in the States, I heard someone call my name.  And the voice was oh, so familiar.  It was the voice of a friend.  And there was a bit of excitement in the way they called to me.  It was the voice of someone I knew in China – a neighbor of mine.

I turned to see who was there, knowing deep down that my friend wouldn't be (but wishing so badly they were).  But there was no one.  In fact, no one had called out to me at all.  And I just stood there for a moment, wondering what had just happened.  I felt disappointed and a little sad.  I tried my best to suppress my feelings and continue on with work.  But I couldn’t (not completely).  Longing had already settled in and I was left wondering if I had made the right decision to leave China in the first place.

What followed was a flood of memories and questions and doubts.  Some of my best years were spent in that place and with some of my truest friends.  It’s difficult to imagine my life without them.  China was so much more than just a fun time and it felt as if I was being drawn back in to it all again.  And it felt good.  It felt right.

It was as if I was connected again.  As if, somehow, I was back in China and all that I knew had not yet come to an end.  But it had and I was no longer there.  And neither was my friend.

If you haven’t yet had the chance, please read the story of my moving to China.  It's one of the most intriguing stories from my life!  Click here to do so.

My time in China was full of laughter, exploration, friendship, and purpose.  It was full of new foods and writing and my favorite sports.  There existed both the familiar and the unfamiliar.  There were sad goodbyes and happy hellos.  There were long hours of teaching and treasured moments spent with students outside of class.

On a weekly basis, I found myself enjoying everything from volleyball and motorcycle excursions to culture shock and hilarious misunderstandings…. from missing home and broken Internet connections to exploring abandoned buildings and rooftop conversations high above the university campus…. from food street and Hot Pot to performing before large audiences and messing it up because you can’t dance…

... from “Coffee Mornings” with Van and “The Finer Things Club” with next door neighbors to making music and writing stories… from orphanage work and travel to strolls down the old railroad and lighting off fireworks for the whole university to see… from late night walks through the park to running from park security with my closest Chinese friends because we weren't sure what the penalty was for joyriding around on some random bicycle-wagon thing we'd found.

 These are those friends

It was all there.  And it didn’t take long to realize that we had begun to build something beautiful together, little by little and bit by bit.  There was purpose because there was connection.  There was meaning because there was intention.

We had so much freedom in our schedule to spend time doing the things we actually wanted to do.  We’d teach for a bit and then it was off to whatever you so desired (and as you may have noticed, I desired a lot).  But none of it would’ve been worth it without the people I shared it all with.  And really, that's why it was so special.  My experience of China was spent within a community of wonderful people, journeying together.  And that’s why there was meaning and purpose.

As each year passed, I found myself thinking, “How will I ever leave this place?  That will truly be a sad day.” The thought had sadden me even though I hadn't left yet.  But then I’d jump right back into all the craziness and things were okay.  That day did finally come, though.  And you know what?  For whatever reason, I was ready to go.  It wasn't that it was any less sad, but my time there felt complete.

But when the voice of my friend had called out to me, and when it said my name, I questioned my departing from such a place.

And I just hope with all hope that I made the right decision.

But Life Didn't End There...
Click Here To See What Else I've Been Up To!

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When This Hand Writes: A Winter Piece

This creative writing piece will conclude my poetry series, although it in itself is not a poem.  It is, however, the most dear to my heart of any of them...

W I N T E R S  O F  L O N G  A G O

I remember spending mornings by a window, huddled over a vent.  Upon a stair I’d sit with outstretched arms and socks as hot as logs.  The ground outside was covered in white and so were the towering pines.  I recall admiring the color green that shown through them and the contrast thereof.

Our home was special as my father had also spent formidable years there.  It was as if, long before my arrival, this quaint, little resting place had been designed especially for me.  And so there I’d sit, gazing into winter’s grand display of timeless beauty.  It was all so perfect that I find it difficult to recount a flaw… unless, I suppose, that we were usually off to school moments later.  But with humor aside, it was there at the window that I'd been befriended by Captivation, and there we'd join together.

 When the blizzards blew in, flurrying with whistles like they do, our land really did become a wonderland.  And such feelings of enchantment would arise as I peered, curiously, into what seemed like new territory to explore.  Out there, anything could happen!  There was no telling what adventures awaited your discovery.

There was sledding to be had, beauties to be rescued, and igloos to be built.  There were lands to traverse, snowballs to gather, and fierce icicles to fight.  It was snowfalls great invitation into a scene of the most wonderful kind – a world filled with mystery, danger, and passion.

But as you can imagine, not all my time was spent in dreams there at the vent.  You could say that’s where they were formed, though, and then longed for.  It was a magical time for a boy like me to be alive.  And to this day, I still find myself visiting that window through a longing that thrills my soul.

For there I was with the cold just beyond and my very own flame below, enjoying what would one day be a young boy’s winter of long ago.

<Poetry (e.)

Copyright © 2016 Wrightings and more. All rights reserved.
 

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When This Hand Writes: If The World Ends Tomorrow

On this page, I will explore creative writing through poetry

What We Crave
Every Last Coal
If The World Ends Tomorrow
The Shampoo Conspiracy

W H A T  W E  C R A V E

We crave for what we do not have

Gold, adventure, strangers in masks

With all our lusting, we’ve lost sight

Of what’s before us, shining bright

One man’s hunger watered his mouth

Led him into the deepest South

Will we return or venture forth?

Your kingdom awaits, just up North

E V E R Y  L A S T  C O A L

My anger comes and then it goes

The longings of my soul it knows

Once it secured itself to me

I lost myself; I fell asleep

This happened, oh, some great time ago

And I welcomed it, I said, “Hello”

I could be deaf or something much worse

For when it speaks, there comes such a curse

And then my world turns upside down

All that I love cannot be found

Yes, maybe deaf or even dumb

I built it a home filled with crumbs

I’m desperate to severe it from my soul

All of it, completely... every last coal

And should it leave scars, that’ll be just fine

At least then I’ll be rid of the foul swine!

If I fail to never see what it truly is

I may just forget that I had seen the abyss

It had taken me there once and told me some lies

And I believed what it said, to my sad surprise

But not any longer, it stops today!

For I cannot afford to walk that way

One thing is sure: I’m destined to be free!

From anger’s lies, both to and about me

I F  T H E  W O R L D  E N D S  T O M O R R O W

If the world ends tomorrow

Will you have done all you could?

Will you have said all you should?

Will you have loved?

If the world ends tomorrow

What will have been your history?

Will you have discovered the mystery?

Will your passion be intact?

If the world ends tomorrow

Will it all have been worth it?

Will your time have had its moments?

Will your memories be noble?

If the world ends tomorrow

What will you leave behind?

Will you seek to press rewind?

Will you be fulfilled?

If the world ends tomorrow

What if another awaits?

What if there’s more at stake?

Will you be surprised?

If the world does not end tomorrow

Does that mean it never will?

Should we go on living merrily, still?

The answer is no

T H E  S H A M P O O  C O N S P I R A C Y

I don’t quite understand this game

Of shampoo and conditioner, and then more of the same

Put the poo in your hair and then let it abound

It should cover all, not just your crown!

Some buy all sorts treatments and cures

But isn’t it funny that they never endure?

And if that’s you, something may be wrong

I’m as clean as a whistle and have been all along

But all I do is use shampoo

A little here, a little there and I’m just like new

So instead of these words, maybe I’ll sell this stuff

That’s what they do and you never have enough!

<Poetry (d.)   
 Poetry (f.)>

Copyright © 2016 Wrightings and more. All rights reserved.

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When This Hand Writes: I Long To See Alaska

On this page, I will explore creative writing through poetry

If Clouds Were Mountains
Errors in my writing & the Insecurity it brings
The Story of a Boy
I Long To See Alaska

I F  C L O U D S  W E R E  M O U N T A I N S

If clouds were like mountains, I’d climb them
Closing my eyes, I can see the view
When the sky was bright or even dim
Up I’d go if I couldn’t fall through

I’d hope that some could be bounced upon
And send me flying into the sky
I’d jump all day until it was dawn
From one to the other I would fly

But just think if you could drop below
Into one that would catch your great fall
And if it was soft (and it’d be so!)
How fun would it be to try them all?

Imagine a life with clouds like this
And consider just what we could do
If you close your eyes and see the mist
You can jump from the fluff of the dew

E R R O R S  I N  M Y  W R I T I N G  &  T H E  I N S E C U R I T Y  I T  B R I N G S

often times, when I reread my work, I find mistakes
And upon such findings, my creative genes begin to shake

They wobble and they wooble and soon, I'm afraid
My curiosity of what you think becomes too heavy a wait

And if I can’t enjoy just being creatively true
Then what comes to be will only be me trying too please you

So if it’s okay, I’m just gonna mess up a whole, real lot
I’m no professional and what I record was never taught

Therefore, everything you see here is just me having fun
And I hope that that shows when you read the works I've done,

T H E  S T O R Y  O F  A  B O Y

In the days of my innocence
I was true to the boy inside
I knew nothing of relevance
Life had color; I was alive

This was me in all my glory
Young and wild and curious
Just a boy playing in the trees
So free and quite oblivious

But not for long! Darkness did come
“Hello,” it said and so did I
And soon that boy had become numb
There was no more life in his eyes

It wasn’t long before I’d ask
If this was the life I wanted…
A friend with the man in the mask
Or with the boy that he’d faulted?

But then came one and he knew me
In him was color, bright and bold
He spoke to the boy through story
Redeeming thoughts, secrets untold

And before long, I knew the truth
His words, like thunder, would break in
We reminisced above the roofs
And my heart was reawakened

I  L O N G  T O  S E E  A L A S K A

I long to see Alaska and to walk amongst its beauty
Just to hide away for a while, making forts in the trees
Surely, to roam free like the animals would be the best way
Or even better as a child, if it were possible

I could use some seclusion as I explore its quiet breath
And, likewise, a little danger (for I know that it lives there)
To play in the rivers and to stand on the boulders above
To daydream in lush, grassy meadows, soft to the touch and kind

I’d awake to the smells of the forest - to its piercing calm
At night I’d fall asleep in wonder as passion allures me
There’s no telling what adventures might come in a given day
One can only imagine the mystery of such a place

While I fail to know the reason, there’s wonder inside my heart
It’s been there since as long as I can remember, just waiting
A curiosity that I just may let overtake me
For I long to see Alaska… the Alaska that I see 

<Poetry (c.)  
  Poetry (e.)>

Copyright © 2016 Wrightings and more. All rights reserved.

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When This Hand Writes: Through and Through

On this page, I will explore creative writing through poetry

Through & Though

Distant Lands

A Calm Less Sea

A Poem or Two

T H R O U G H  &  T H R O U G H

Pierce me now, through and through 

All the way until my attention is yours

Search my heart in solitude

And then again when it's busy with chores

If I am not known, fully and true

I’ll never be rid of this protective shell

And if that day never comes, what will I do?

I’m alone in here and it smells of hell

But I do not only want to be known

I seek to know the one who awoke me!

I’ve heard his voice and know its tone

But then it was gone in a hurry 

Or did I go and leave you there?

Off on your own in some other place

If that’s what happened, please tell me where!

I’ll go this minute and plead my case

Until I’m walking everyday with you

I cannot be known, fully and true

And until I’m fully known by you

Pierce me again, through and through

D I S T A N T  L A N D S

I'm off without a master plan

To the grounds of a different sand

The people of another man

I'm off into a distant land

(Note: If you'd like to read the story behind the poem, click here)

A  C A L M  L E S S  S E A

Out on a calm less sea

A man was destined to go

He cursed in disbelief

At waters he did not know 

She took him into her home

And made him to believe 

That when waters can be blown

Man must sleep the great sleep

A  P O E M  O R  T W O

I cannot stop this writing 

It flows like a river still

The more I let it take me

The less that I’ve had my fill

First, a poem or two here

Then a poem or two there

And soon, I'd trespassed beyond

Into a new world, I’d fared

But what of the one I know?

Shall I exit the river?

I fear the repercussions

I long to be a giver!

To give away what I see

And to show the world my life

Through words with special meaning

To let you peak through these eyes

If joy is found in giving

Then in the river I’ll stay

To new worlds it will take me

And I’ll give it all away

Yes, I'll give it all away!

<Poetry (b.)  

  Poetry (d.)>

Copyright © 2016 Wrightings and more. All rights reserved.

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When This Hand Writes: Into A Dark Forest

On this page, I will explore creative writing through poetry

Into A Dark Forest
My One, True Friend

When Bullets Miss

Just What I Needed

I N T O  A  D A R K  F O R E S T

One thing that’s sure is the uncertainty of the fog  

And when it surrounds, I wonder what’s awry

 It speaks to my nerves and leads them astray

Into a dark forest with no other way

But once it’s gone, I desire its tension

And the feelings that stir at its very mention 

Is it only me or be there others, too?

Who feel the same way when it comes to hover?

The closer it gets, the more I’m drawn

Into its wrongful embrace, its seductive yawn 

I just might let it take me away

To wherever it resides, there I will stay

And then we’d be together, the two of us, finally!

And never again will I doubt its intentions 

The next time it comes I will follow it home

Into a dark forest with no other way

 
M Y  O N E  T R U E  F R I E N D

I love when my owner packs me around

For a walk in the woods or into town 

I hold all his things wherever he goes

 And it’s my pleasure!  It’s all that I know

  

Sometimes I’m hung on the branches of trees

As he takes pictures of me and the leaves

And I say, “cheese!” but he never responds

I think he’s a mute, but I could be wrong

  

But that doesn’t matter; I know we’re close

I hug him real tight wherever he goes!

W H E N  B U L L E T S  M I S S

When bullets miss there are second chances

And an accuser is given the same

What will you do with the chances you’re given

When the gun of your mouth is seeking to maim?

When wounds heal there are second chances

And a victim is given the same

What will you do with the chances you’re given

When the wounds of your skin are seeking to blame?

J U S T  W H A T  I  N E E D E D

By the wood I split, I made a fire 

Just right in size for me to admire
With the coffee I had, I brewed a cup 

Just to my liking; it was enough

With the night before me, I listened and heard 

The sound of the forest and the wood as it burned
With the night before me, I sipped and explored 

My love for coffee with thoughts in accord

Then I listened once more and this is what I learned 

The song of the night forest completes that of the birds 

And it was just what I needed
(and perhaps a bit more)

<Poetry (a.)  
  Poetry (c.)>

Copyright © 2016 Wrightings and more. All rights reserved.

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When This Hand Writes: Movements of the Candle

On this page, I will explore creative writing through poetry

When This Hand Writes

Movements of the Candle
Her

Floorboards

W H E N  T H I S  H A N D  W R I T E S

When this hand writes
What I can see will come to be

When this hand writes
Ideas are formed, worlds are born

When this hand writes
I create light; let it be bright!

When this hand writes
The child inside comes alive

When this hand writes
Truth is a tale I choose to tell

When this hand writes
I give you my eyes – open wide!

 

M O V E M E N T S  O F  T H E  C A N D L E

 

 Gentle, smooth, full of promise

With grace it moves, healing calmness

Dead of night, forever changed

Glowing whisper, eternal flame

Did you hear just what was said?

Flicker, flicker to all the dead
 

H E R

Who could've known what I now know?

None had gone before, but I did go

Out I swam into a setting sea

For there she was, floating with ease

And what I found I shall never reveal

For my word is strong and my decision sealed

You may ask or deceive and, surely, you will blame

But only I will know the diplomat of the waves

F L O O R B O A R D S

Under floorboards some things lie

Messages, secrets, old replies

Hidden in darkness yet full of light

Things unknown are yours to find

(Note: If you'd like to read the abstract writing piece that accompanies this poem, click here)

Poetry (b.)>

Copyright © 2016 Wrightings and more. All rights reserved.

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Stories That I Can't Explain: The Airplane Crash

It was a beautiful day in Colorado.  I had just spent three days in the mountains with some great people and was headed back to Kansas City, Missouri, where I was living at the time.  My phone had been off and upon checking my messages, I saw one from my mother.  Something terrible had happened...

Hannah Luce had been in an airplane accident.

 And she was the only survivor.

The Airplane Crash

After hearing about the accident, I learned that the plane went down in Kansas and that Hannah been brought to a hospital near my home (fifteen miles away).  I couldn't believe it.  It felt as though I was being drawn back to Missouri... like I needed to get there as quickly as possible... like something greater was going on in all this.

I knew Hannah from when I was living in Colorado Springs in 2006.  She was a part of a youth camp run by a friend of mine named David Perkins.  I was simply there to help out.  Hannah and I weren't close, but it was fun getting to know her.

She's a lively soul, that one is! 

This is us

In the years that followed, we hadn't really stayed in touch.  But when I heard about the crash, I found it curious that she'd been brought to a hospital so close to my house.  I also found it interesting that I was coming from Colorado, the place where we'd met... in fact, the very city of our meeting!  Something sure seemed to be in the works, but I didn't know what it was.

So basically, my plan was to show up at the hospital and to look for her room.

I remember pulling into the hospital that day.  I had just come off a 9-hour drive and I was nervous.  I didn't know what to expect or if they'd even disclose which room she was in.  After all, her father, Ron Luce, was a fairly well-known individual - a man I had met in passing once before through David Perkins.  On top of all that, the accident had only just happened.  It was all so fresh.

But nevertheless, I walked up to the counter and told a lady who I was looking for.  I said I was a friend and she told me where to go.

I remember stepping out of the elevator, curious of what might happen next.  I began to look around, rehearsing lines in my head in case I needed to explain myself to someone.  But there was no one in sight.  I walked around for a bit but everything was quiet and I didn't know where to go.

And then I saw him.

It was Ron, Hannah's father.  He had just come from around a corner and was talking on the phone.  We made eye contact and then he looked away.  I may have waived to him, but I can't remember.  And then he disappeared back around the corner.

The whole thing was more than a little awkward.  What was I to say to the guy?  I didn't really know Hannah and I knew him even less... a guy who's daughter had just been in a traumatic accident... an accident that resulted in the deaths of four young men... people he probably knew.  And how terminal was Hannah's present condition?

I wanted to turn back.  I wanted to go home.

But then I had an idea... I would write him a note.  But what would I say?  I wanted it to be something that connected us, hopefully lowering his guard a bit.  So I mentioned that I was a friend of David Perkins.  I stated, briefly, how I knew Hannah and told him I was there to help out in whatever way I could.  I ended by telling him that I'd be in the cafeteria downstairs for one-hour.  If he wanted to speak with me, he could find me there.  It was short and sweet.

So now I was ready for the hand-off.

I took a few deep breaths and walked around the corner.  He was sitting in a waiting room, still talking on the phone.  I walked in and handed him the note.  He said 'thank you' and I nodded, turning to leave the room.  And upon turning, I couldn't believe what happened next!

It was David Perkins!

David was entering the room at that very moment!  I was shocked.  I had literally just mentioned David in a note that I handed to Ron only a second or two before.  And now here he was!  In person.  A man I hadn't connected with in years.  A man I spent 4-years of my life working for.  A family friend.  And he had just flown in from Colorado Springs... the place I had only just arrived from!

How was it all possible?  And why did it happen?

And what were the odds of this happening?  Yes, David is a mutual friend of Ron and I, but the three of us were all from different States.  I mean, the fact that Hannah had ended up in a hospital so close to my home was odd enough.  But now here was David!

(Side-note: You should also know that our families go way back.  Our parents have been good friends since before I was born.  When David was a teen, he spent time traveling with my family.  And when I was a teen, I moved to Colorado and spent time with his.  The lives of our families have intersected over the span of many years.  Even as I write this post, my entire family is in Missouri with his!)

While I'm not sure of the purpose of all this, it was obvious that something unique had happened that day.  But regardless of whatever it was, I did eventually visit Hannah's room.  We talked for a bit and prayed together.  She asked for some books to read and I went to a bookstore and bought them for her.

It was a delicate time in her life.
And I was happy to have had a part in it.

If you'd like to read more about Hannah's story, click here!  She's written a book about her experience called Fields Of Grace.  All the proceeds go to Mirror Tree, a nonprofit Hannah founded, which helps to fund research to better the rehabilitation process of displaced people around the world, including refugees, burn victims, the homeless and others who fall under traumatic crisis.  Mirror Tree was inspired by Austin Anderson and Garrett Coble, two of the young men who died in the crash.

Hannah also remembers Luke Sheets and Stephen Luth.

<Story #4  

   Story #1>

Fun Fact: David Perkins and his family have recently moved to Kansas City, MO, to plant a church called Radiant Church.  And my sister and her husband decided to join them in this venture.

The church launched TODAY, September 18, 2016.

Cory, Whitney, and David

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Stories That I Can't Explain: Mt. Apo

During my time in Davao City, Philippines, there was one thing I really wanted to do...

Climb Mt. Apo!

Not only was it the tallest mountain in the country, but it required a 3-day trek through jungle and volcanic terrain.  It was my kind of adventure.  But there was one problem.  My contacts were hesitant about taking me on the journey (both me and my friend, Dan).

 This is him

You see, not only did the trek come with the risks you might expect, but there were also radical Muslims in the mountains and they were known to kidnap foreigners.  But I didn't care!  If anything, I was only more interested now.

What fun is it living in fear of everything??

So after many failed attempts with my Filipino friends, it became clear we weren't going to climb Mt. Apo.  And now it was too late to schedule a guide to take us.  I was bummed out.  But hey, complaining wasn't going to get me anywhere, was it?

And little did I know that something incredible was in the works...

Mt. Apo

One morning, I was on my way to catch a ferry in to Davao from Samal Island, a small island we spent 2-weeks on.  And as I approached the boat, it departed right in front of me!  I was literally less than a minute late and that meant I needed to wait another thirty minutes for another boat to arrive.

But in that moment, I remember making a conscious decision to not be frustrated about it.  Instead, I looked for the good in the situation.

I intentionally opened myself up to the realm of possibilities and what ifs.  And as I did this, I noticed a complete shift in my attitude.  Instead of being frustrated, I was happy.  And instead of being irritable, I became hopeful.  But really, there was no apparent reason for my sudden change in attitude.  I had just missed my boat on a hot, hot day.  I was tired and most-likely hungry.

And that's when I saw them!

The next ferry had arrived and as the passengers began to unload, I realized that I recognized two of them!  It was Ken and Carol, a young, married couple from the university I taught at!  I couldn't believe it!  I had no idea they were in the Philippines and, while we didn't know each other too well at the time, I had always wanted to get to know them better.  And now here they were!

But it gets better...

We only had a minute to talk because I didn't want to miss another ferry.  But what came out of their mouth next astounded me.  They had just arrived in Davao for the sole purpose of climbing Mt. Apo!  And the trek was in a couple days.  This was something they had researched, planned for, and scheduled well in advance and now I had an opportunity to go with them!

How incredible is that??

So think about this.

I really wanted to climb this mountain in Davao but my contacts wouldn't take me.  And then, out of the blue, I bump in to some friends who teach at the same university in China and happen to be doing the very thing I so desperately wanted to do... two days later!  And now I was able to join the adventure!

   

And know this: not only did I not know they'd be in the Philippines, but the Philippines is a country made up of 7,107 islands & close to 100 million people.

So how did all this so beautifully come together?
And as you can see, we went on to have an absolute wonderful time!

This is some amazing stuff, friend.  Seriously.  Has anything like this ever happened to you?  This is the kind of stuff that makes you want to wake up in the morning... the kind of stuff that makes life seem rather interesting, don't you think?

  

And Remember!

When one door seems to be closing, don't let it ruin your day (or week or month or year)!  Maybe something better is coming.  Keep your eyes open and be intentional.  Live in state of expectancy and don't be a drag.

We really don't know what may be around the next corner!

<Story #3  
   Story #5>

Fun Fact: During the same trip, I ran in to another couple from my university and the guy was a writer.  A new friendship emerged.  We played lots of ping-pong together and talked about creative writing.  And it was because of him that I began writing short stories, plugging away at some books, and honing in on my writing skills.  

And that one man has encouraged my writing more than any other person I know.  His name is Mike and he's a great guy!

If you'd like to read one of his (hilarious) stories, click here!

This is us in Cebu

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