this cracked earth around me
seems wrong somehow
when I know I was made for
sky.  blue. 

freedom.

who told me I couldn't fly?
that lie
that turned to mud around my
feet.  dripped dirt on my wings

whispers every day this is all
there is and ever will be
endless ground
and making it over one more dune

trudging through tar and around
sand more quick than smooth

cries of joy, I hear faintly
from another world it feels
like.  look up!

but I have this hill to walk over
and my wings are dusty

come up!

you are made for this

this was made for you

you have wings.

I have wings.

I have wings!  dirt is not my home.
Earth is just a placeholder so the sky
can be. 

blue. freedom. 

The Point of It All

Some time ago I wrote a post talking about the extra-ordinary life I wanted.   Well.  God has given it to me.  And it's as bloody and hard and time intensive as I thought it might be. (Bloody hard even.)

In the midst of this, I've been hearing a voice say that God is pretty far away just watching.  Just checking it out as I and those around me slog through the muck we live in.  That although we're commanded to the righteous life, we don't really have the power to live it.  To conquer ourselves and our sin and our fear and live free.

John Mayer has a lovely little song called Gravity.  A lot of these days I've been feeling like the lyrics are the script of my life.  Gravity....has taken better women than me.....

Keep me where the light is.

Because that voice that's been saying there's no help?  No hope.  No future to offer those around me.  No power in Jesus name.  That voice is a liar. 

Keep me where the light is.

Does the Divine change lives for real?  Offer hope for sure?  Make something out of nothing?  Is there a point to all of this living righteously?

Oh yes.

 Numbers 23:19 

God is not a man, that he should lie,
   nor a son of man, that he should change his mind.
Does he speak and then not act?
   Does he promise and not fulfill?

And something that Jesus gave me this morning:

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.  

We belong to the Overcomer.  To the one who takes trouble and storms in hand and says peace, be still to it.  

And at the end of the day I still choose the narrow road.  I still see the power in the Name that will cause every single knee to bow.  That the Word who spoke the universe into being still speaks to human lives.  That the one who knows how thick my hair is cares about the details of my trouble.  

Keep me where the light is.  Because the Light is the point of it all. 

 

Poetry

Poetry often says for me what prose meanders and weaves and ducks and drags its feet at when getting to the point. A point so quickly revealed in verse where paragraphs weigh it down.  (Music is poetry and poetry is music.)  My favorite poets are ones that write like they are writing songs.  ee cummings and Pablo Neruda being my two favorite modern poets. Here is just a sample, but it's like they take my heart and write it on a page.  I think poetry is one of the most difficult and most beautiful art forms. It's like sculpting glass.  So easy to do badly, but so incredible when done by a master. 

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
~Pablo Neruda Sonnet XVII

Um.  Amazing.  

Lovely one,
your eyes are too big for your face,
your eyes are too big for the earth.

There are countries, there are rivers,
in your eyes,
my country is your eyes,
I walk through them,
they light the world
through which I walk,
lovely one.

~Pablo Neruda, Lovely One

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

ee cummings, somewhere i have never travelled 

 

Disciples of Christ

So excited to be starting on a study of God, who He is and the relationship He wants with us.  It's called Rock of Ages.  Based on this little song:

        Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
 let me hide myself in thee; 
 let the water and the blood, 
 from thy wounded side which flowed, 
 be of sin the double cure; 
 save from wrath and make me pure. 

2. Not the labors of my hands 
 can fulfill thy law's commands; 
 could my zeal no respite know, 
 could my tears forever flow, 
 all for sin could not atone; 
 thou must save, and thou alone. 

3. Nothing in my hand I bring, 
 simply to the cross I cling; 
 naked, come to thee for dress; 
 helpless, look to thee for grace; 
 foul, I to the fountain fly; 
 wash me, Savior, or I die. 

4. While I draw this fleeting breath, 
 when mine eyes shall close in death, 
 when I soar to worlds unknown, 
 see thee on thy judgment throne, 
 Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
 let me hide myself in thee.

Rant

Mothers of children.  Mainly girl children.  Please DO NOT put your child in short shorts or skirts if they are under the age of 16.  Trying to reposition a 9 year old so I don't see her underwear or other things every 5 minutes gets old for me and the 9 year old. 

Thanks.

I can't waste time so give it a moment
I realize nothing's broken
No need to worry about everything I've done
Live every second like it was my last one

Don't look back, got a new direction
I loved you once, needed protection
You're still a part of everything I do
You're on my heart just like a tattoo

~Tattoo, Jordin Sparks