Thursday, April 22, 2010

once upon a time...

when heritage meant something...

someone started a legacy of men who don't give up.  someone purchased land in the south.  someone sired a son who met Jesus, and he did the very same.

and here am I.

and the man told me, this isn't me.  no, it's not.  this isn't us - we don't just give up.

that's why my son will have the middle name of a legacy.  a small legacy, an unknown legacy, a legacy of a boy who met Jesus and became a man and sired a son with the woman who took to be his wife.

you are Titus.  Titus Loverd Howard.  may you fight harder, run further, and do so much more than I ever could, if you meet Jesus.

Monday, April 5, 2010


I've been having a hard time, lately, with everything in general.  really, just lots of stuff.  homework, waking up, getting up, going to bed on time, being all-there at work, loving, caring.  it's not that I'm NOT doing any of that.  and I don't know what the deal is, really.  honestly.  a couple of weeks ago I wasn't like this, and here I am again.

lately I've had this overwhelming feeling of uselessness, and being small.  like I'm just a small, insignificant part of the local body, and that I believe different things than other people, and that they're things that don't (seem to) matter anyways.  and what's worse, I always imagine myself talking to someone older like I've tried to before, and getting some of the same discouraging 'suck it up' responses and some allusions to how arrogant, young, prideful, naive etc. I am.

I'm really happy to be married to erin, to have a boy on the way, that we've prayed and then we've seen that he didn't die in the womb like it seemed like he was going to.  but there are times that I miss, because I felt more alive - and I wish I could take us back there or go somewhere else where things are even better.

where they were hard, sure, but they were real; abundant.  back when I first got saved, before I came up here.  I just question a lot of things, now.  question a lot of tradition.  sometimes I can look in peoples eyes and see that they're wrestling with the same things.

once a man took the mic away from me.  he doesn't know this, I was bitter and I apologized to him for being bitter, but I didn't tell him this much.  since then I've shut up.  it was the final blow from someone who I really thought was an ally.  since then I've just seen myself fall apart.

it was like he was saying to me, in front of everyone, 'you've already said too much; you always say too much.'

so I'm just a ghost blogger, frustrated, wondering and praying at the end of the night while my wife is asleep.