It’s strange to know who I am
Though not necessarily where I am
But through it all
I will trust He who is the great I am.

These weeks speed past
Slowly creeping
towards the last

My excitement grows
But when that final
whistle blows

How will I feel then?

My friend Andrea Levendusky is easily one of my favourite writers. She’s insightful without be assuming. She’s intelligent without being pretentious. She teaches as friend sitting beside you on a couch rather than an instructor standing above you. Keep an eye out for this woman’s work! I’ve included an excerpt from her most recent blog post below, but you can read the whole thing here.

“Wasn’t it just last summer, when we sat around the fire pit and our voices disappeared into the dark blue sky, along with the orange sparks that splashed into the star-lit ocean? Wasn’t it the Adirondack pines that sheltered us as we listened to music and he laughed, and she sighed, and they drew closer, and we let the flames simmer down until sleep called us? Wasn’t it the heat of August when we circled around and asked big questions, knocked sticks against the stone and pulled out some pieces of ourselves there under the arc of earth? Hasn’t it always been the fire we surround, the fire within us that draws us to each other, that burns us, that reveals us, that rings within us the fragile bells of need, love, fear and doubt with one another?”

I highly recommend reading the whole thing: Kinship with the Fire by Andrea Levendusky.

The Life of Mr. Derrick Beast
The Unsung Tale of an Ordinary Man

Mr. Derrick Beast was, as may not be assumed by his name, a simple and peace loving-man. Although large in stature and rough around the edges, he was of calm demeanor and gentle touch.

In his early years, Mr. Derrick Beast had many an adventure, but had long since learned that the greatest adventure of all was loving those around him. In light of this, he settled down. He found himself a wife and gave himself completely, every fibre of his being, over to loving her, as she to him. Their marriage wasn’t a fairy tale marriage, as no real marriage is, but the constant, conscious choice to serve the other over the self allowed their love to prevail.

Their fought for love blossomed into several children who were fiercely loved themselves. These manifestations of love grew and, as their parents had prayed for, moved off in order to find both adventure and love of their own.

Through it all, Mr. and Mrs. Beast made the daily choice to care; to care about their family, to care about the community in which they found themselves, and to care about the people no one else cared about. For this they became known for both extravagent generosity and kindness.

As the pair grew old in years, Mr. Derrick Beast’s prayer, that Mrs. Beast would pass on before him in order to spare her the pain of love lost, was answered. The following times were haggarding on an already old soul. He was still himself, but only a third of what he used to be. Some think a marriage is two halves, but really it’s three thirds; me, you, and we.

Selflessly loving others helped dull the throbbing absence, but Mr. Derrick Beast soon followed on. His gravestone, per his wishes, read:

Mr. Derrick Beast lived for many years
and died having lived a satisfying life.
He breathed his last and joined his ancestors in death.

Mr. Derrick Beast was a simple and peace loving man. He was a jack of all trades, but a master of none. He was not an extraordinary man. In all ways, he was simply ordinary. His name will be forgotten. Memories of him will fade away. Songs will not be sung about his deeds and children will not learn of his exploits in school. His was not that kind of legacy. The legacy of Mr. Derrick Beast is one that lives on in the lives he touched and the ones they touched. The accomplishments and accumulations of a man ultimately fade, but the ideology of Mr. Derrick Beast, to live simply and love deeply, is what will continue on.