For lack of anything better to do during sermons, I doodle and write. Every once in a while, something decent pops up. Like in this case. Feedback is appreciated. I'm always interested to see how people interpret my poetry. Now, without further ado, I present to you:

It isn't much...but here's some thoughts and blurbs from Wild at Heart, by John Eldredge, which I am currently reading.

Eve was created within the lush beauty of Eden's garden. But Adam, if you'll remember, was created outside the Garden, in the wilderness. In the record of our beginnings, the second chapter of Genesis makes it clear: Man was born in the outback, from the untamed part of creation. Only afterwards is he brought to Eden. And ever since have boys never been at home indoors, and men have had an insatiable desire to explore...As John Muir said, when a man comes to the mountains, he comes home. The core of a man's heart is undomesticated and that is good.

I smiled when I read that bit. There's a little place in southern Alberta called Crowsnest Pass, where I've spent chunks of my summer, either at Bible camp or camping with family. Every time I go there, I can feel the excitement building as I thread my way through the foothills, the mountains looming higher and higher on the horizon, 'till finally I break through and a sense of peace and happiness overtakes me. Turtle Mountain on the left, the giant boulder field a sobering reminder of how small and insignificant we really are...Crowsnest Mountain herself peeking up out of a valley...passing Coleman and looking at the ranges in the distance, trying to remember all the names. I can't. I know I've climbed McLaren; it's multiple peaks are deceptive up close; you never know which one is the final summit 'till you're on it. While a gypsy at heart, "the Pass" will always be home.

As I said, this'll be a short one, and I wasn't kidding. I'll leave you with this passage to ponder and possibly even comment on:

Society at large can't make up its mind about men. Having spent the last thirty years redefining masculinity into something more sensitive, safe, manageable and, well, feminine, it now berates men for not being men. Boys will be boys, they sigh. As though if a man were to truly grow up he would forsake wilderness and wanderlust and settle down, be at home forever in Aunt Polly's parlor. "Where are all the real men?" is regular fare for talk shows and new books. You asked them to be women, I want to say. The result is a gender confusion never experienced at such a wide level in the history of the world. How can a man know he is one when his highest aim is minding his manners?...The problem with men, we are told, is that htey don't know how to keep their promises, be spiritual leaders, talk to their wive, or raise their children. But, if they will try real hard they can reach the lofty summit of becoming...a nice guy. That's what he hold up as models of Christian maturity: Really Nice Guys. We don't smoke, drink, or swear, that's what makes us men. Now let me ask my male readers: In all your boyhood dreams growing up, did you ever dream of becoming a Nice Guy? (Ladies, was the Prince of your dreams dashing...or merely nice?)

What, in your mind, defines a real man? Do you know any?


Next time, in the Sandbox: Sticks, Stones, and Bazookas - Why little boys love their guns