Love is Like That (revised)

It still shines!

The way he lovingly waxes

those smooth curves

it is almost a ballet done in cut-off shorts and a white t-shirt.

The man is a bit beyond the half-century mark

his car is just shy of it

and yet

I could almost believe that

the sought-after stereotyped succulence:

New Car Smell

still lingers

so pampered is this machine.

The unblemished


uncompromising redness of the thing

houses this workmanship under the hood:

beneath that idling purr

is the promise of a roar upon acceleration.

Love is like that.

It preserves things.

It manifests as mantenance, correction and caresses…

Love is like that.

But for every apple of someone’s eye…

There are ten rotting

into the muck

The bad seeds.

It is work.

My God it is work.

To keep on loving:

Loving even the beautiful

is an effort in the long haul.

And when

our lover



the lovliness


and then? We can so easily walk away–

Wax over rust–

is just wax over rust.

Too late? Oh well, move on.

The cars which rolled off the assembly line

next to this one

are rotting

in dumps

and automobile grave yards.

But what happens when

it’s not a car?

it’s so much more than a car.

Children are born

with this lovliness

if we are too weak to maintain it

do we have a prayer

or restoring it?


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The stories that speak to our soul begin at a home where things are good. Cinderella is happy with her father. The three little pigs have grown up and are ready to move on. Bilbo Baggins knows his shire. Adam and Eve walk with God in the garden. My story isn’t much different. There was a time and a place where it was so good. There was a community for me. And there was joy. We were filled with a sincere desire to do what God wanted us to do. We possessed explanations and understandings that went a certain distance. We offered security and tradition and laughter. For a lot of years, that was enough. I have this sense that it was also necessary. I have this surety, now, that it certainly wasn’t everything. There were some things that became increasingly problematic as time went by. There was a desire to package things up so very neatly. Sunday morning services were efficient and strategic. Responses to differences of opinion were premeditated. Formula began to feel more important than being real. A real desire for everybody to be one of us, but also a real sense that there is an us, and there is a them. They carried a regret that it has to be this way, but deeper than this regret was a surety that this is how it is. I began to recognize that there was a cost of admission to that group. There were people who sat at the door, collecting it. Those people wished they didn’t have to. But I guess they felt like they did have to. They let some people in, and they left others out. There was a provisional membership. My friends did possess a desire to accommodate people that are different… But it would be best for everyone concerned if they were only a little bit different. I did make many steps forward in this place. Before I went there, there were lies that I believed. Some of the things that I learned there, I still hold on to. But that place is not my home anymore. Those people are not my community anymore. There were times it was hard. I am engaged in a different community now. And I am working hard at finding a place in many different places now, embracing many different kind of families. I don’t always get it right. I am trying and I am learning and I am moving foreward. I have this sense that I am not alone in these experiences. I believe that we are tribe and we are growing. We are pilgrims, looking for a new holy land. Perhaps we won’t settle on the same spot of land. But if you’ve read this far, I am thinking that we are probably headed in the same general direction. I have begun this blog to talk about where my journey is taking me. In every space, we find people who help us along. And maybe we can get to know each other, here. We embrace ideas that provide a structure for the things we believe, and perhaps we can share these too. Maybe we can form a group, a tribe, a community, if we can figure out a way to work through the shadow of these kinds of groups, if we can bigger than the us-and-them ideas that have caused so much trouble in the past. As important as they are, I think the very nature of online interactions will lend itself to something equally powerful. I am stumbling onto these practices that my grandfathers and great grandfathers in the faith engaged in. I am learning about these attitudes and intuitions are so different than the kinds of things we call doctrine today. I don’t know about you, but I am running out of patience, and even interest, in conversations about doctrine. I hope that maybe you’ll share a little something about where your journey is taking you, and maybe our common joys and challenges might help each other along, and we might lift each other up. Thanks for doing this journey with me.

2 thoughts on “Love is Like That (revised)”

  1. Thanks Larry-
    I spent a bit of time on your site and quite enjoyed it. For anybody reading this, if you’ve enjoyed my poetry I reccomend Larry’s site. I hope it’s fair to say that he and I seem to share some poetic occupations.
    (In particular I noticed that Larry’s work, like mine:
    * often tries to find the profound in the everday
    * tends to shun intentionally obtuse language and structure
    * often utilizes extended metaphor)

    Thanks for the encouragement on “Love is Like That” It’s a nice thing to wake up in the morning and have positive words waiting for you on your blog.


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