Friday, December 11, 2015

Lines from the Months of This Last Year: February

Saw an ocean of of the most beautiful things in a while, though the sunsets & moonrises have been prime recently.

Help me to be earnest. I need need need more of You and what You care about; I want to be obedient. To the people I'm meant to love, the work I'm meant to do.

I threw away my shoes today!

Just briefly, I want to thank You.
For a dream prompting me. For a possible new commission. For "Smoke Signals" with Mom, a call from JL, the reminder that You knew me before I was born.
For the small miracles of Your Spirit guiding me... and my obedience (if stilted).

You're asking me to dance.
Show me tomorrow?

The wink of You in my Isaiah verse...bitterness. Isaiah 38:17

Please help me this week, to give all burstingly. And also to be still and comforted.
To draw on Your sap. To give it out. To know You.

Dear Lord,
Thank You. The last two days have been so full, and in many ways I'm still in the thick of it all. But You're here, thanks. Rich thick porridge blanket lather sleep.
Please keep stirring us up.
I am very glad to be rid of my black shoes. I am very glad to have a full tank of gas & oil.
To have fruit. Milk. Eggs. L's contra videos. For the prospect of MAKING IT to CA, OR, ME.
Thank You for my thick-skinned feet. My short hair. My whole body, which I underestimate and criticize and adore. Help me love giving You myself drop by drop and whole,

Please speak through me.

Thank You that You don't cheat, lie, or disappoint. If anything, You give better than You promise.

Thank You for purifying me.
Emeth. For being that live bird dipped in dead bird's blood, released in the field, dripping pink water on my arms and face.

Thank You for the rich undeserved kindness You give to me, through S, Mom, L...
Such a sweet morning with the granddaughters and S.
Sweet messy noisy sensitive inquisitive generous selfish adoring children. Bless You for making them.

Thank You for the very small ways we see our duty, see where virtue lies, and can follow You. Please help us do this.

God, they swell and press against my ribs. These brothers and sisters I could spend all afternoon spelling out and crying out for.
Still me and plant me.

Yesterday, in that raw moment with Mom, she observed that I care about place. It would be very hard on me to be a nomad. And, though she did not say this, I care about words that are...gracious. Savory and undiminished. Courteous. Acerbity would wear on me like acid.

Grazie Dio. What a week. I feel a bit weathered. Like the numbness late at night when you've been up too late and don't know how to put yourself together enough to sleep.

Sunlight is streaming in, glittering on the candle holders and wine glasses, illuminating the cut paper cards and spreading amaryllis blossom.
There are lots of things to grow this spring. To do and be. I'm afraid, but I'm trying not to over-think it.
What things will I have learned? How ready is my heart? The seeds are there...

I want to be capable and sweet to the core, unafraid because I know Your love and trust it. Trust You, because I know You. Help me.
Help me make "critics into coaches". Help me live the Gospel. Speak the Gospel. Believe the Gospel (prove it true).

All this helpless expense of life. Help me live carefully, generously. Giving thanks, making do, doing without. Help me be present.  God, show me Your heart. How do You want to be known? What are You up to, here?
If I am in a hurry I will miss it completely.

Thank You for making good out of even today.
I do want heroes, but not idols. You are all the sweeter. Speak Lord.

Unclog my heart so the love only flows out thicker and faster. Help me be ready to live with You.

Thank You for helping me pray this morning, early, even after that horrible sex-with-a-crocodile dream. Protect me through all this. Help me breath and heal, laugh and enjoy and be firm and true unto death. Save Your people.
Thank You for for the ashes still clinging to my forehead like a bruise.
Bring things to mind. Be glorified in me.
Prepare me for great love. Lover, love You, me.


Such a happy, blessed day. Thank You.

Dear Omes,
Thank You. You are everything.
I <3 U.

Buon Gesu,
Thank You for taking J and I to Longwood and back in one piece. Terrible, like the ocean. I'm safe, You're with me, but at the end, with my frayed nerves, I want to blame You for allowing me to come so close. Like Eliot's anarchist, ~"I want to know why I hurt so much."

Jesus. I'm too full and stretched. Help me quiet tonight. Thank You tremendously for the reminder (via The Amazing Spiderman 2, no less!) that I, Your Woman, don't want to just be protected. I want to be involved. It's my choice. I want to help, even if it means danger, even if it means death (and You've told me it does...death, and life). Give them to me. Prepare me to be such a one as can take it.

Bless You for a day ended in love and hope and laughter. "Baci, baci, abbracci."
Lord, reign over our recalcitrant and discombobulated hearts, REIGN SUPREME. In peace and power, grace, justice, love.

It's still a mystery to me how these songs even happened. They are Yours, take them.

We only know love when it's modeled for us.


Lord, this is small of me, but I feel cheated. Here I am with my noble plans, "giving" them to You, and what do You do? Take them. :P
Ughhh okay, do. But I need You to take out the poison that makes this another ocean, where I stand confused and suspended, asking, "Is this my invitation into danger? Or my warning to stay away?" and hold my cowardice like a fish.
Do I release it into the sea, or let it die, sticky and subdued, in my hands?

To lose the poetry, I'm up, it's before 6am, and I'm at home, rather than at church for prayer, because of a delicate coating of snow. Before Saturday I would have hopped in the car, geared up the engine, and sloughed off the windshield, thinking nothing of the unplowed road. Now I'm terrified. Like walking my familiar route...but not feeling safe now, because last time I was mugged. I take detours. I take the bus. I wonder if I should be changing at all - after all, You protected me, and that's all I ever need...

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