Monday, December 15, 2014

Lines from the Months of This Last Year: May

Thank You that our flooding is not worse.
Quorum plus ONE!

Thank You for the people on the subway. Thank You for the Bronx zoo,
the birds, the lemurs, the tigers, the sea lions, the fossa and crocs and red pandas. The long walk back. Curry stir fry, vinegar apples.
I woke up late in the night to moaning from the street; prayed.
Thank You that You will do whatever You want.

Show me how to know You, be in step and in love with You all day. And not a wishy washy namby pamby happy pappy wimp.
Nurse me at Your comforting breasts.

Help me forget myself. Help me be open and obedient to whatever You ask me to do. Help me delight in You, in Your words, more and more.

Please help me take each day as a gift, joyfully, quietly, trusting You. Ready for any sacrifice. Help me be flexible, hold nothing back from You.

"Men will have to give account...for every careless word they have spoken."
(Matt 12:36)

Lord,  please forgive me. Please take this heart and reform it. Remind me that I have the power of Your Spirit, that I CAN say NO to sin, to myself, and claim Your victory. Please help me do that today. Make my heart good, whole, holy. Help me gather with You.

Lord. What is the matter with me? Why is it so hard to be steadfast in heart?
Help me.
Hearing from J's room, "Who holds back the raging sea? Who keeps trouble far from me? This far will you come, and no more." (Innocence Mission)
I'm wearing Grandpa's overalls. They make me feel kooky and '90's. A little old school, homeschooler, hipster.
J came in hungry, ate more of my nuts and pondered what else he could eat. It seemed like bananas and PB were the only pleasing option; he went off to have some.

Lord, why do I love You? In the silent loneliness of my soul, why do I believe?

It is all made of cake. All these things. Nothing is real. Not really mine. This is cake lamp, cake book, cake antique stool. Shoe cake. Soul cake.
Prayed today, unconsciously, until I heard myself say, "In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen."

Lord, shake us up! Me up! Unchain the tiger in my ribcage! I turn into a sallow mealworm between dreams. What courage is there in me?
It doesn't matter. You do. So help me be true to You. I am only a balloon, You are the solid, the real, the soul. No cake.

"I have no good like unto thee..." (Ps 16)

This is so much better. Prepare me for whatever this will bring, however it will change me, the world. Show me how to honor this, this precious time, and let it flow through my hands. Renew me day by day, because I'm already tired and ugly and protective.
You are a maker of such beauty. Help us see past ourselves. Help us see You, and trust You where we can't see.
Please be filling our hearts and souls tonight. Protecting us (send angels), comforting and calling us.
Oh, so many. I want to let the weight of them sink deep into my hands, my heart, and then out into the bed You make. Into the air.

Thank You for the beauty of this day. Lake Chautauqua. Salads and Sara Groves and coloring feathers. My talk with Dad, on the lawn chair, in the sunny patch of moss by the old doghouse. Massages and hair-playing and Gundam Wing. My nap in the spare oom. Show me what love is. What obedience is, in these situations. Help me write. Create. Process all these things. "Add to the beauty". Pray and work and believe the very good.

Certain slants of light remind me of epiphany. My mother with a crumpled Kleenex in the passenger's seat, lifting and shaking it out in a puff of golden, sun-caught dust. Each fleck an airy and impossible thing.


Jesus. Tie more cords between us. Thank You for books and for actions. For words spoken. For lives shared. For food. For safety, and wit, and surprises.

Keep me in wonder.

We have freedom to play. Because we are securely loved.

O King of heaven.

Please give me wisdom and...well help me OWN the fruit of the Spirit. These things are mine already, in You, by You, through You.
To You.

"No man hath quickened his own soul..." (Ps 22)

Thy rod and thy staff comfort me... it is so assuring, Jesus Christ, to know that You not only guide but discipline me. That if I am doing wrong, going the wrong way, You will not allow it. I can act freely, confidently, trusting that You will correct and reprove if I need it.
There is comfort in that.

Help us be good to each other. IT IS NOT TOO MUCH. Help me give my fish and bread, this measly heart, to You. These crumbs can feed a multitude.

Thank You for all kinds of work, hard in their own ways. Thank You for baby calves, for hay mows, for swallows and barncats and tulips, for Tom Bombadil on the hill at Grandma's. Thank You for strange dreams. Thank You for everyone persevering in prayer for us. Bless them.
Jesus, I can't do anything without you and have joy. Ice cream, movies, sleep, reading, music, dreams of romance - all sour and turn flat and ugly without You. Bring me back to a childlike position - on Your bosom. Be glorified in me,
whatever it takes
(please be gentle).

Life is too long to plant nothing,
to think fruit trees won't bear fruit,
or the flowers that flower next year
aren't worth planting.

Stars have been singing all this blooming time...

I take your faces for granted.

Renew our vision. Keep us humble, always learning. Remembering that YOU are God. Lord, chasten me. Open and close doors as You will. Thanks, I guess.
Cultivate me and my little weedy garden of a heart.

Let me be a clear birdsong singing praise.

Make me alive, sharp as cider vinegar. I love this life.
And I wish, I wish, I wish, to be wet all through with rain. To be rocked in tree boughs again. To hold hands and not care that I'm sweaty.
Knit me, Lovely, deep into Your vine. I want to feel Your sap mingling with mine.

Meet all of us here. People waiting. PLEASE. People I love. And I can't love very well. Show me how. Holy Spirit, I EXPECT You!

J has graduated. The ceremony was mostly mortifying, but we made a mighty roar for him.

"Be strong, and He shall establish your heart..." (Ps 31)

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