we used to gather to remain in the vine neighbor sister brother mother father singing our songs Kyrie eleison standing room only we were searching for Holy, Holy, Holy in a time of upheaval we found comfort in the cathedral of our hearts in the neighborhood sanctuary
candles prayers stained glass windows used to tell our stories guiding us toward glory dazzling testimonies told in fragile colors we were lost but we found each other and we found our heavenly Father Kyrie eleison
now just silent songs unsung melodies broken monochrome glass and look the vines enter in perhaps searching for souls maybe a prayer or two God make all this old to be new and begin in me please, Lord tell a story of your glory through all that is shattered in me as i sing the ancient song
like a black sea stretching out before me all this mystery of what is yet to be all that i cannot see
like a black sky slowly descending over me telling shadow stories all i cannot hide a dark gray canopy made up of all my whys
oh Lord and Light guide me on my way help me navigate this story through the night waiting for the day longing for all made right for the unseen real to replace what all the senses feel
like a dark wave swallowing up my soul all the doubt and shame why must it be this way growing old is growing close to a different shore to so much more than the sum of my failures or anything labeled a success it’s all just a mess
oh Lord and Light i’m grateful that you gave me sight for this mess that i call my life for you carried me you saw me you ransomed me so i’ll follow you i’ll turn to you surrender to you and let you tell me who i am for you are love and far above this darkened sky and far below this blackened sea your glory and light your power and might the Lord and Light is with me in me all around me
In my previous post I indicated that we (my wife and I) were attending a spiritual retreat in the Chelsea neighborhood of New York City. After our last session today we were encouraged to experience delight. We decided to walk to the Chelsea Market, then walked the High Line to the Hudson Yards. These images are just a glimpse into an evening of delighting in New York City!
We (my wife and I) are grateful to be back in the hometown that we grew up in on Long Island. My parents still live in the house I was raised in, so coming home is always filled with nostalgia and the telling of old stories and discovering new memories.
It is rare to visit Long Island and not go to the beach to take pictures, but the weather has been dark, rainy, and windy. More like a blustery day in November from a Winnie the Pooh story than springtime in New York.
So, since walking through torrential cold rain along the shore did seem to have its drawbacks, I decided to take pictures of my home and found myself drawn to the… well… probably thousands of… knickknacks? Home decor items?… that are just… everywhere. I suddenly realized that my childhood home is like living in the pages of an “I Spy” book.
I am quite sure that Better Homes and Gardens (is that magazine still around?) would not feature this home in an article on “How to Decorate Your Home with 1,000 Little Things” or “The Latest Home Decor Trend: I Spy Living.” But I sure had fun finding little treasures on this Winnie the Pooh blustery day.
Retrobox! How cool is that? And tiny Santa pants, and a snow covered cottage, and – this is one of the themes in my home and life – “Coffee please.” Coffee, in case you are wondering, is the fountain of youth. Just ask my mom who is about to turn 97.
Music is another theme in my home. My dad would play energetic Puerto Rican (another theme) beats in a Spotify-less world where the radio host would announce the next song or two by completing a string of basically slurred Spanish words delivered at the speed of sound with a hearty, “LA SALSA!”
Jesus is another… not a theme… I would say a presence in my home. Reverence… spiritual interest and pursuit was imprinted on my heart in my growing up years. I am grateful for how that influence shaped me.
The deepest, most precious, immeasurable treasure in my home is love. This is my bride embracing my mom when we arrived in the evening. Moments like these adorn this home. It was not a perfect home. It has known heartache and sorrow. But at the center of a thousand knickknacks is a story of love… warmth… family… a wordless embrace… love.
blue skies
dancing with the sea
on the far horizon
i can see
the wild waves
searching for the shore
searching with me
for so much more
than i can see
blue skies
there is no outer space
through the universe
we race
let’s just pause
let’s just wait
listen
close
our
eyes
beneath these
blue blue skies
i dream
i dance
i lift my soul
to You
this longing
for peace
and relief
from all the toil inside
identity relies
and lies outside
with You
i surrender my ID
to You
beneath
these blue blue skies
i’m safe
with You
This is the third and last post from a visit to the Kings Park Psychiatric Center with my brother on a recent trip back to New York. While walking the grounds we came upon this wall that appeared to be the remains of some kind of outdoor gathering place. (?)
The textures were fascinating here. And those trees! Just incredible how they found life, water and sustenance through the brick and stone.
On the left side was a small storage room (?) guarded by a fallen tree that we were hoping was the opening of a tunnel.
This is the 2nd of 3 posts from a recent trip back home to New York. My brother invited me to explore the abandoned Kings Park Psychiatric Center. The psychiatric center was built on 800 acres of land. We only explored a tiny portion of the property and its buildings. This post focuses more on the incredible artwork that is very much a part of this abandoned landscape.
On a recent trip back home to New York my brother invited me to hike some trails on the north shore of Long Island and visit the abandoned King’s Park Psychiatric Center. He encouraged me to bring my camera – glad I did. The sprawling campus of this abandoned facility is something to behold. It is fascinating to see so many old buildings and realize they were filled with patients and all kinds of professional and support personnel. A Google search will return the sad, tragic saga of this facility. This is Building 93. It is much more ominous than these images reveal.
Back on Long Island visiting my elderly parents, which means a visit and long walk along the shore at Jones Beach. Temperatures in the 40’s, and breezy, but a gorgeous day!
rutakintome pictures 
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