Posts tagged skinny

What do I have a GIVENNESS NOW to?

Never a skinny love.

Come on skinny love just last the year
Pour a little salt we were never here
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer

I tell my love to wreck it all
Cut out all the ropes and let me fall
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Right in the moment this order’s tall

I told you to be patient
I told you to be fine
I told you to be balanced
I told you to be kind
In the morning I’ll be with you
But it will be a different “kind”
I’ll be holding all the tickets 
And you’ll be owning all the fines

Come on skinny love what happened here
Suckle on the hope in lite brassiere
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Sullen load is full; so slow on the split

I told you to be patient
I told you to be fine
I told you to be balanced
I told you to be kind
Now all your love is wasted?
Then who the hell was I?
Now I’m breaking at the britches
And at the end of all your lines

Who will love you?
Who will fight?
Who will fall far behind?  (Lyrics by Justin Vernon, performed by Bon Iver)

…cut the ropes and let me fall, whenever there’s a “thinness” to it all.

I have a GIVENNESS NOW to never a skinny love.

What do I have a GIVENNESS NOW to?

To places He himself would be visiting.


“The Lord sent them out ahead of him in pairs,
to every place He himself would be visiting.”  Luke 10:01

Sent in a 2001 Toyota Rav4.

A father and daughter pair.

To a place called “Baseline Road” in Mesa, Arizona.  
To a place in my relationship with Abigail.
To a place in a teenage boy dressed in skinny jeans.

To places “He himself” would be visiting.


On this, our last drive, of the last morning, of the last day of school,
(as on most mornings, of most school days),

Abby and I sang along with the radio,
imitated teenage pop artists like Nick Jonas and Taylor Swift,
and prayed, 

for a skinny teenage boy, in skinny jeans,
who we always see,
on the road to school,
as he walks down the sidewalk,
and listens to his headphones,

just before we, 
and he, 
arrive late.


Even though this morning, we didn’t see him, as we usually do.

I blessed my daughter with the sign of the cross on her forehead, 
dropped her off at the back of school,
(the quickest accessible route when she’s late),
and said goodbye.

Remembering I had forgotten something important for work at home, 
I turned the car around and headed back the way I came.

I was stopped by the crossing guard, for one last very, very late student,
who just happened to be…

the skinny jean teen,
who took a shortcut through the neighborhood near the school.

And as the crossing guard led him safely across the street to the school,
he momentarily paused just before the front bumper of my car,
and looked towards me.

I wanted to yell out the window of my car to him, 

“I’m praying for you SKINNY JEAN TEEN!!!”

But I didn’t.

And it wouldn’t have mattered if I did.

What mattered was knowing that there is a place,
in this skinny jean teen,
that God Himself is visiting,
and would be visiting.


Abby and I will no longer see him walking to Rhodes Junior High. 
Maybe we will see him walking to Dobson High School next fall.
Even if we don’t we’ll continue to pray for “Zach”


“Zach”?

That’s the name of the skinny jean teen.

How do we know?

Abby just found his photo and name in the school year book.


Pray for “Zach” and others like him. 

Even in their skinny jeans.

And the “places” of their hearts He Himself would visiting.

I will now.



I have a GIVENNESS NOW to places He Himself would be visiting.