Monday, August 28, 2017

The Mirror, August 23

I don't feel very lovable right now. Not horrible, or in some depressed stew, but tired, needy.
Yesterday a character at the post office said to me, "Have you looked in the mirror lately? You're pretty." And I told him the mirror had told me I was tired, but thanks, I'd take it.
I feel super irritated/threatened by comments like that, but Dad was right behind us. Then I also felt mad that I was relying on the presence of a man to save me if things got "actually bad". Couldn't I stand up for myself? Do I always need a savior? (The answer is yes).
I eventually added Dad into the interchange by saying that he could take half the credit for me, but then it bothered me that I'd done it. And at the same time, it bothered me that Dad hadn't spoken up for me of his own volition.

Poor us. We put ourselves in these lose-lose situations, we stupid humans. If I had been a Brit, would I have patiently explained to this creep how to actually treat an unknown woman? How there's almost nothing you can do to become her "friend" on first acquaintance? We are on guard, for better or worse.
God, make my heart hospitable, but shrewd. 

Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Spine, August 15

There’s a shuddering weight of things pressing up against my spine.
I feel all right. But my eyes are looking tired. I’m home. Spent most of the morning cleaning, which WAS good for my soul. And did a little final work in the store; I was there in time to “fix” the dishwasher – remove a fork that was obstructing the plug. I left gifts. Packed up and drove home on precisely a quarter-tank of gas.

So behind. That’s OK, babe. Take it a step at a time. R just said to be good to my heart, my family, and my work.
I need to let You be good to me, Lover-Lord. Yikes. That sounds either saccharine or ominous. You’re right there, already ahead of me, ready to welcome me, ready to speak to me. You will not let me fall.

Mostly I just don’t want to lose You. I care too much about what people think. And I don’t understand, or like, everything about You, God. Yet I’m married to You. This is it. You’re stuck with me now, forever, so You’ve got to help me. This was Your idea. But I know You’re too much of a gentleman to manipulate me. Just keep being Yourself. And don’t leave me alone.

Little Bird, August 14

I remember reading once how baby birds, when they are young, have droppings that harden quickly, in a lump, so that parents can dispose of them outside the nest and keep things tidy within. But as the chicks mature their excrement softens, so that by the time they are old enough to leave the nest it is a messy and unpleasant place. They have an added incentive to leave the safety they’ve known and enter the wide world.

I feel something like a little bird right now. I’ve been taking things down and packing them up incrementally, until now there are very few corners that feel homey and cozy. The loneliness is still sweet, but the cold anonymity of bare walls and the clutter of bags and boxes are unbearable.
How do refugees stand it?  There are people in the world who want nothing more right now than to stand still in one place for a while, and be safe.

Remind me I am a pilgrim.

Muchness, August 11

So much today. Much of a muchness. The last store time. It went pretty well, all things considered. The fritzy iPad felt like predictable calamity, but it could have been worse. We finished well. You DID give me love and sweetness for the girls. And the chance to do kind things for people, give little gifts. I got to give 3 ½ back massages, and take dressy photos, and give lots of hugs.

But there is such a sadness today, and not all of it is the sweet sorrow of finishing the summer.
They lost the baby.
Lord Jesus, they need Your truth and comfort so much right now. Protect them as they grieve. Help this bring them closer to each other, to bring others around them, and to bring them deeper into fellowship with You. You, who have also lost a child.

Lord, I praise You. For giving and taking away. For acting out of Your perfect wisdom, love, and power. In Your righteousness.
I feel Your tender care tonight. In the way You orchestrated my time and energies. The beautiful bonfire, music and dance and baby-holding and singing in rounds, and the nudge that it was time to leave.
I prayed. You brought me where I needed to be, with what I needed. Keep my ears attuned and my eyes open to You. Keep me resting as I go along; things may not slow down too much between now and death.

Take tonight. Tomorrow. Keep me following You, moment by moment.

Disappointing, July 25

Lord, I’m so annoyed. I want Your help. I want this to be over. I don’t have patience or love. I’m as disappointing as a brown avocado.

Save me.

Thursday, August 17, 2017

Splendor, August 8

Such a good day. Store time was smooth and fun (I actually helped scoop ice cream for most of it). I had enough time in the morning to spray off the recyclables and cull them (gross) and consolidate merch. It felt good. No more orders. But I called Nelson's and thanked them. Counted soda machine $. Ate baked ziti while manning the office, and there were no calls.

Game Night was fun. Spoons (which only gained momentum, increasing in pitch & danger & foul spoonfuls of food for losers), Dutch Blitz, Picture-Down-The-Lane, Uno.
I went to Traber afterward, to swing, and the moon... it was full, golden, rising above the trees in a special show of splendor. What I mean is that it felt important, and made me want to cry and open my mouth to receive the Eucharist. 

Monday, August 14, 2017

Hope, July 13

Here in bed. It's been a hopeful day. At least, a day of moving out
of crisis mode (you can't live there forever, even when the crisis
continues). A quiet-inside day.

Lord, I'm aching over her. And I'm sad and sorry that "peace and
harmony" sound hollow.
Keep my hands open.
Help me not try to take on all these burdens that I can't handle.

Thank You for the sweetness of friends visiting.
God, I want You. 

Comatose, July 12

I need to feel Your grace in all this madness. What feels like madness,
chaos, mess.
Please show her Yourself.
Please take all the broken, helpless pieces of me.
Thank You for "The Broken Way", and for kindness, and for a comatose few minutes on the office floor. For sustaining me time and time again.
Help me pray. Help me love.
Make me willing to be broken open by You, and use me. 

Monday, August 7, 2017

But Today. Now.

Another bless├ęd day. Punctually clothed. 
Receiver of all Your Fatherly 
Your furs
and wings
and iridescent petals.

Universal donor. Is it all there, in the details? 
In what we are embarrassed, in our own sophistication, to name? 
But I want to be wowed.
Not just at the altar, in a wedding dress, 
but today. Now.

(July 21)
Ref. "Love Calls Us to the Things of This World", by Richard Wilbur