Sunday, March 19, 2017

Comfort, February 10

Comfort makes me uncomfortable, but I'm also addicted to it. I don't want to be threatened by violence or assault. I don't want to smell bad smells, or hear yelling, or get involved with chronically needy people. This is all understandable, and it is all Christless. Lord, help me. 

Rocks for the Crop, Snow Flurries January 31

I woke up this morning to my alarm, and five minutes later to a strange man casually swinging a grocery bag against the side of my face. That was a dream, but it was unpleasant.
Well, I'm awake now, and I'm glad to have another day. Thank You, Jesus. And help me, I need You. Again Your words hit my creature-comfort-hungry soul like something indigestible. Rocks for the crop. Cheep cheep!
We saw a lot of starlings yesterday. Those bully birds with the charming name. We got home mid-afternoon. I even had the house to myself for a spell - and an unearthly spell it was. I watched snow flurries come in from the west. The sun breathed in and out like the light on a sleeping Macbook. Thick snow finally swallowed up the glowing orb completely, and the whole sky was filled with flakes, looking dirty and ashen against the bright, yellowish clouds, and cottony against the somber trees. 

Satisfaction, January 26

I dreamed that I was looking through manuscripts, and had just finished scanning one complete set when the alarm went off and I awoke. That sense of completion was very comforting. Satisfying.
"You will never be satisfied, I will never be satisfied..."
That's something that frightens me. The thought that maybe I will never be satisfied. With life, with a man. For some reason I'm not really worried about being satisfied in God, or with my identity. Not in this moment, at least. That is a gift. But when it comes to romance, I have this unreasonable fear, that I will marry someone flat or who won't understand me and pursue my heart, and that later on I will meet some incandescent, bleeding soul and be thrown off balance (be discontented, or even unfaithful - which are not dissimilar).
Save me from this fear and dread and burden, Father. You gave the soul.
You know how to give good gifts and make good matches.
Strike Anywhere matches.
Ah, but You are the only match. And the skeleton key, and the O negative.

Quote: Lin-Manuel Miranda

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

God, I am afraid of You

God, I am afraid of You.
Afraid that You are too far from my experience.
That You are a cruel master.
Or so immoderately gracious, gushing healing, that I can hold You as easily
as water. And I will find myself cold as Jonah.
And wet.

Inauguration (Jan 21)

I don't think I've ever cringed so much at prayers prayed "In JESUS' Name". Though I do pray He heard them, and will take seriously what is done in His Name... even if that means judging and disciplining. O Lord, violence and self-interest and wealth and isolationism are not the answer. Forgive us. Remind us how You saved the world.

Remind us what Christlikeness looked like: identifying with the outsider, loving all people, speaking truth unapologetically, touching lepers, washing feet, praying earnestly, having compassion, risking danger, rebuking the proud, paying taxes, not abolishing but fulfilling... choosing obedience and humility unto death, in order to give life, to glorify the Father.

Things done for Your sake, in obedience to You, are done in Your Name. Not things done selfishly. Help us remove the logs from our own eyes. Help us follow You, and forsake all notion of being "the greatest". Let us seek to serve.

Saturday, March 11, 2017

Dreams, January 19

I slept in. And dreamt much.
One of the dearest dreams was about some little rescue animals, including a tiny black-and-white kitten who was skin & bones & fur. Its little eyes bulged out.
But I'm pretty sure we saved it.

There was also a scene in a thrift shop where I looked through vintage dresses. And a music video of me and the bros in cow/zebra/snow leopard onesies.
And a book I was reading about relationships, with a section entitled, "Why Do You Feel Powerless?" and an ad for pear 'claret', which might have been spelled 'clarinet'. 

Meta, January 18

I can't sleep; I was thinking too much and I was hungry, so I decided to write
and let myself sleep in a tad.
I've just been eating yogurt in bed, in the dark.
I thought about how I would write that (and I'm so literal that, after I instinctively turned on my light, I turned it off again so "in the dark" would be true).
I also thought about how I would write that, and how it would sound very real and transparent.
And I thought about writing that, too.
I'm so meta. :I
I'm also driving myself crazy (sleep, brain) (or come up with song and images and EP ideas, if you must).
I don't think I'm a genius, but if I am it's at the expense of nights like these.

I'd like to talk more to God and less to myself, because He's a better listener, and His answers are better, too.
Although, as J pointed out, they don't always make sense.
"Lord, what is 2 x 4?"
God: "Ethel." 

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

The Imposition of Ashes

In like a lion,
I could complain. You are already
taking care to deliver this day,
to bless through curses,
in like rape, out like labor,

life out of death, out of mothballs.
Here I sense no wickedness at all,
but the persistent inconvenience
of the work of God.

It is an imposition
to be human. To face the mirror
and the toilet and have both
deny your divinity. Glass and porcelain
flesh and bone and stray silver hair
bear witness to decay. I'll take it.

For days we borrow, forty days You loan
and lean down to transmogrify. A party
in the ferns, a table spread with invisible
fruit. With secret teacups we have sipped
together; what kisses You give in all weather.
Carry me like the child I am.
In like an infant,
out like a lamb.