Threes

Three things that make me feel encumbered, yet invincible:
Shoes
Gloves
Sunglasses


Three words that bubbled up in my vocabulary last month:
Travesty
Abomination
Sacrilege


Three alternate lives I'd lead:
Masseuse
Innkeeper
Nun

Tom's Voice: Two Poems

I.

For a week Pooh Bear ate bran instead of honey. He grew lean and ground his new-found claws on concrete. He gargled with salt water every night, and again on Thursdays at three.

He dined the second week on swiss cheese, washed down with strong black tea, tannic and hot, grumbling and humbling and snapping his fingers to Louis Armstrong.

On the third week, he packed a knapsack with Pecan Sandies and hiked the Matterhorn, plodding till the air was thin and the planets close as moths. Then he stopped, and munched, and spoke - and the voice he used was Tom's.

II. Haiku

Pumice stones sand heels Tom in the Dry Tortugas Heals sand by speaking

Dialogue, Feb. 7

Me: God, I need to see You. O God, I need to see You.
God: I'm here.
Me: 
God: Look at Me.
Me: Huh?
God: I'm right here.
Me: (mumble)
God: I've got all the time in the world...
Me: What, right now?
God:
Me: Rats. I actually wanted to sleep.
God: Not yet. Look at me.
Me: Thanks. Ok, yup. That's better. Thanks.
Me: How about I sleep now?
God:
Me: ...OK, so...
God: What do you want?
Me: I'm not sure how to answer that. There are about three true answers. I guess I want to want You, if that counts...
God: It does.
Me: But that means I have to stay up and be with You for a while, doesn't it?
God: Possibly.
Me: You mean I need to cooperate... i.e. the shortest route is surrender?
God: You'll just have to trust Me on this.
Me: (long, slow breath)
God: Can you drink this cup?


--
Thank You, God. You won't leave me to starve on my own juices. Even when I hardly want You, try to pray but hardly do, You answer. Calmly and persistently.
You understand how it is. But You also understand that only You will satisfy me, and You answer Your own magnet within me. You want my highest good, my deepest pleasure, more than I do myself. 
You see through my palliative fantasies and have compassion on me. Too jealous and too kind to give up.
You know that in wanting a man I'm only wanting You. You know that in rolling impossible brokennesses over in my mind, I'm really asking, "Is the impossible really possible? Can anything ever change? Can redemption strike here?" 
I do want to want You. And I want You. And I need to see You. 
O God, I need to see You. 

Lines from December, Part 2

16.
There are so many things to write about.
But first I ask You to bring peace to my own soul, which is not at ease. I think that vague, avoided doubts are more harmful than honest, addressed ones.
Are You there? Are You Who You say You are? Why is so much of life this waiting and persisting, thinking fleeting thoughts, and rarely finding that spark of sharing it with another?

Are we all so solitary? So alone? Why are moments of clarity and blood-singing beauty so hard to grasp, or to remember?
We are more than the sum of our parts.

There are two things I've decided I must cherish closely this season:
honor and joy.
Make it three: humility.
Make me honorable, merry, and meek. Meekness is not the same thing as humility, but they walk with arms linked.
And help me pray more these weeks, even in ways that seem abstract, or are silly, like praying for whatever catastrophe was causing all the sirens, only to find out that Santa was canvassing the neighborhood in a firetruck.

I moved the studio today. There's not enough space to do yoga in my room anymore, but I'll figure something out.

You work small miracles in domestic situations, and I'm asking You to do it again. Break down self-pity, pride, and insecurity. Bring out the best in us, the patient, gentle, faithful love that has no substitute, though it may have its mockers and skeptics.

Jesus. Be my God this weekend. Be God with us. Be praised in the perfection of Your goodness.

P.S. Psalm 73 was so perfectly timed. Thank You.




17.
"Yo, I walked with God in the garden and it was good" - Sintax.the.terrific

We had an ice storm last night, which complicated matters today. J and I went to the party anyway, and it was the right choice. He got to ride in Wesley. We had a little time to talk.
Sobering to tell him, "None of my relationships really flourished this fall." That's only partly true. A few were maintained with adequacy. My weekly chat and prayer with A was actually very nourishing, deepening to our friendship. But for the most part, I either gave old friendships mere nods, or started new ones which, though positive, are yet green.
Remind me of this, when I am tempted to load my plate. I need space and margin to be the fully-present, invested, relational being I was meant to be. I'd like to feel again, with a grin, that I am a "professional friend". That my personal relationships are what fill most of my waking hours, and that I can care well, know and be known.

Please guide tomorrow, my last Christmas Sabbath before the whole gang is here. Bless Your Name, faithful one.




19.
Thank You, Jesus, for such a sweet day with S.
Bulletproof coffee, cookie baking, a lunch of mushroom soup and marbled rye bread, tea and prayer.
Please heal my knee. Please stir my heart and mind, toward You, toward prayer. Help me care well for what/those who You have entrusted to me.

Guide me into a place of peace and overflow - even if it's an overflow that simply allows me to grieve and suffer, which I have often been too crowded to allow.
Bring more, true love into my life.
Help me be the seer and giver You meant me to be, without pride or bitterness. Help me to be secure in You. Firmly planted and fruitful in Truth.
Jesus, be glorified. Come.




21.
Please help. I really need to paint. And I felt like I needed to sleep, so I slept in, but now I'm grouchy. This is stupid. Please put me to rights, and work through me, and get all the praise.

---
Mom just came in and prayed with me. Thank You.




23.
You are answering prayer. You are like long looked-for rain, like the firm squeeze of a hand, like sleep after a tiring day. You constantly challenge my smallness, and ask my heart, "What are you living for?"
I am not free enough. And I am too loose as well. Train and temper me, please. Make me transparent and winsome. Help me to love You with every bit of myself, to fear You - and nothing else. Never let me slip into arrogance, flippancy, or complacency. With all the luxury I have, help me always feel my need for You. And always show me You are there, and enough.
Love is the best impetus.

Remind each of us of You. Help us pray. Awake our consciences, our spirits, our intellects, even as You (please) put our bodies to sleep. It is so sweet to have families.




25.
What a Christmas. This was good. And the chaff blows away the longer it sits. Holidays have the unfortunate tendency to be idealized, stereotyped, and idolized - leading to disappointment. But with the reality we are given, I don't think you could get much better than this. The gift-giving was relaxed and warm, with a few lovely surprises. Breakfast was delightful, lunch was late but delicious. E joined us. I had a little afternoon time to sequester myself. Later I got to talk to Roomie, and over the past few hours we've been listening to "Hamilton" - all of it - in the living room. This was the best way to hear it. With attentive, engaged company, absorbing and responding together. Soaking in the art, following the nuances.

I've noticed that old habit of muteness creeping in, but part of that is my tiredness. I didn't leave the house today. Better do so tomorrow. And paint...

Carry me through this week. It's up to You whether I finish or not. Anything is possible. Because of You. Help me live with that undaunted confidence in You again. To be willing to "kill my darlings", to let go.

These rare clan gatherings are so crucial; to reaffirm belonging, to establish context. May I never, ever take them for granted.




26.
Who am I? What do I believe? What do I stand for?
Some things are crystalizing. What is my name? How can purity flame forth as beautiful and joyous as it really is? Help me hate what is evil and cling to what is good. Let there be no acceptable sins with me, as there are none with You.
Where will I draw the line? When will I pray and participate, when will I abstain? How can I live in truth, and not as a hypocrite?

Sex and alcohol and explosions and satire - they're all so overblown and out of proportion - so BORING! Give me something genuine and tender, something noble and mysterious.
I want to be a heroine, but help me want, more than that, to see You glorified. To always, always point back to You and Your finished work on the cross. To be content to be a sinner forgiven, a wretch made holy by no merit of her own. Name me again.




27.
Win the battles, Lord. In me, in my family, in this community, in the world, the universe!
How small my language is. But I want everything to bend toward You. For You to show Yourself, and for this mangy heart to drown in worship.
Lead me away from false loves, by Your One True Love. Play a sweeter song than that of the sirens. But don't let me live in metaphor. Show me the actual, literal work in front of me, and help me do it. Help me know when to speak.

I'd like to paint a day for us. With ripe fields, gardens, woods, and hills - with lambs and kids, birdsong, fireflies. With light snow and a fireside, hot food and drink and measured talk. The best of every season, and You beside me. A swing, a run, a swim, a dance, a climb in the old magnolia. Sunset seen through branches. Berries picked from the brambles. Peepers and crickets and owls. Low singing, and the creak of stairs.




28.
I ate my first passionfruit today. I almost liked it. Talk about a fruit that seems as if it were made for aliens.

E and J are gone. It feels so abrupt. Tomorrow night I'll be the sole "kid" again - and I'm not looking forward to it. To more time to work, yes, but not to the loneliness.
T sent Mom a book. Dad cried when she opened it. And then they both cried, missing my brothers. I sat down at Dad's knee and we all grieved gently together, and prayed. We had such precious time, and we don't know when it will happen again. More and more it feels rare. We can't take it for granted.

And I've been sitting here, thinking of children traumatized and killed in Aleppo, thinking of the murderousness in us all, hating all the sin and weakness and apathy in the world, needing Your comfort and perspective.
Remind me that caring is worth it. I want to love this year, remember?
Sometimes loving feels so painful, too hard, or like it's not enough. Remind me that it is enough. It carries a seed within it. If I tend it, it will inevitably yield good. My love is one small stitch, but stitch me tight and true. Connect my love to all the long and neverending spool of Yours.




30.
"Look like a baby once again, 'cuz I'm shedding my old withered skin"
- Danielson

The year is almost over. 23 more hours. And what a lot to fit into them!
Today, despite some slower-than-anticipated aspects, was pleasant.

PLEASE help! All the photos to come out well. Me to drive safely and be present with the people I love. Me to pray. Me to know You. Me to see things for what they are...
Like my first bite of persimmon today. It helps to think, "It's a nectarine!" to block the thought, "It's a mutant tomato!" But no, it's a persimmon.
Help me trust You with all the pains I take, and all the grace I choose to rest in. You have called me to now, to this moment, and I don't want to miss it.




31.
I feel so much better than I did 5 hours ago, leaving Verizon with no progress, driving to pick C up through tears. The shoot went so well, and I stopped by K's, so we got to talk, exchange gifts, and pray. And I'm home, and have eaten, and can PAINT now, for a while.
Thank You for this relief. For helping me make decisions even when I'm sick-tired and weary. You weave beauty, truth, and goodness into all this. DO.

Lines from December, Part 1

1.
Dearest,
Here we are! We made it! After such a long long day. It is delicious to sit still, washed and fed, in soft light from the Christmas candle in my window.
You were so kind to help me to drive, and teach, and keep good temper (even after the palette was tracked around the room).

Thank You for all these students. For R. For the privilege of being part of something that matters, that takes all I can give, but gives back.
Thank You for R cleaning the rug, bringing me coffee. The time to talk and wash out stale thoughts. For all the cars that let me merge. A (mostly) working spark plug. Mama hugging me and telling me she was proud of me tonight.
Small quiet moments like this.




3.
Today we had the party. As often happens, I was a brute beast during the prep, trying to overcome my sour spirit and and be sweet and helpful. The little tiffs that precede these events often make me question the worthwhileness of parties. But when they happen, I (sometimes) change my mind. This was a good party.
We need to be reminded more often than we need to be instructed, eh?
Please sift my mind. My thoughts retrogressing six years.
You can do quick work, Holy Spirit. Turn me around. Use me as an instrument of truth and love tomorrow.




4.
It is really December; cool, not frigid. Today was sweet. The play was interesting; pretty murky and satirical, though poignant and engaging at points. The end was enigmatic. But it was good to spend time with L and see J.

Give me my heart's desire. Give me You.




5.
Oh, but this is life! This is real living!
To wake early, sip tea and read and write and pray in the flowering light, to laugh over breakfast, complete small tasks, drink hot chocolate with whipped cream dimpling into foam on the surface.

To drive out to run errands and visit a mother and newborn (and hold the baby and make faces and kiss her tiny cheek), to come home just in time to walk arm-in-arm with parents around the neighborhood, to have a hot shower, to eat granola standing in the kitchen, and drive out to a meeting.
To listen to Handel's Messiah in the car, to plan efficiently and cheerfully, and from there to spend a few hours at a luxurious little spa night for mothers, giving them back massages, rubbing oil into tired shoulders, talking softly (or not) and praying rest into deserving muscles.

This is a blessed day.

P.S. Also, it was so sweet to have Dad call me over to hear Psalm 116:1-2:
"I love the LORD, for he heard my voice..."




7.
I feel very useless. Please help me. I am nothing but gloves; put Your hands into me and use me.




8.
Dear Jesus,
You deserve all my love and devotion. May this heart grow and bleat for You. I say "bleat" because it sounds like "bleed" and "beat", and "blaze" and "eat" as well. It's because my heart throbs for You. And because I am Your wee sheep.

This has been such a full day; last day at school, plus the seminar. So much richness. Gifts upon gifts. Words of affirmation. Hugs. Beautiful artwork. Frustrations, too. But my phone waited until after classes to finally bite the dust. THANK YOU.
John 12:24.




9.
It frightens me a little to be so far into the month already.
Today was insightful. I am not certain of all my thoughts. I need more love, and with imperfect love I may see only half-truth. But I must learn to see and name... it is important. Even though (perhaps especially because) everything can change.

It felt like I had to bail us out multiple times, or at least tip up the prow.  I am a balancer - I could have done the opposite just as readily, but this felt novel and uncomfortable. It's a bit of a mirror to me - reminding me how incomplete and non-definitive my own social graces and compassion can be. I need to remember that it is not about me. Self-absorption, one way or the other, causes 85% of social distress. That's a statistic I just made up.

I know my own eyes must be somewhat biased, and personal impressions should be taken con sal.
Oh, for freedom from this feebleness and sin. Thanks be to Jesus Christ, my Lord, who knew this word before I wrote it, and knows when I will read it next.




11.
You are my merciful and veryfunny God.
Tender mercies, trustworthy mercies, mercies like thunder and thick jam.
Today a light snow fell, cold but not profuse enough to stick. I recorded "Northumbrian Lullaby", and came up against vocal limitations and piano potential. What a gorgeous instrument. Melodic and responsive. I, on the other hand...

I ate turkey and peas for lunch. And an oatmeal cookie. I turned on all the window lights. I want to enjoy this Yuletide Sabbath. And so I'm also swaddled up in my pink blanket, on my bed. Just finished a rich cup of drinking chocolate.
In all this luxury, I want to ask, what next?
How can I hold all this lightly, give all this up? Where am I lazy, and need a good firing up? Where am I weary and wounded, and need rest and convalescence? Funny how all these things can be present in one little body.
Like baby R on Monday, crying so hard it makes you wonder how so much intense emotion can come from a tiny peanut of a human.

But I don't think I've been feeling enough. I'm trailing behind in the procession. You, Kingly One, swing around and walk slowly beside me, kindly, not blaming me, and put my shame to rest by Your disarming friendliness and genuine love.

When did I start thinking I could blame You for other people's shortcomings? When did I start believing gossip, rather than the look in Your eyes?
Help my unbelief.
I know something's right when I confess my lasciviousness in dreams, and wake shriven and serene. When circumstances don't crush me the way they should. When I don't really care about making a fool of myself (if I am an honest fool).
Your Spirit is alive in me. I will bear fruit. I will learn, inch by inch, stumbling as I go. You will give me all the help I need.




13.
Today was strange, no sleep until ~3am, and then sleeping in until ~10am. Praise You that I can do that, at least. I did paint, finished 2 panels, so I'm back on track.

I want to be really present, but it's hard. Help me keep things simple. Help me choose what really matters, what I really love, the habits I really want to form.
Essentials are life-giving. Non-essentials may not be. I'm thankful, though, for the time You spent with me last night, keeping me aware of You. You gave the time, You took it.




15.
It's the week before Christmas... far into it, now. Prayer this morning was lovely.
But I'm so tired, I'm pretty off. Center my mind and heart. Help me trust You.
Debt and Aleppo and an off-color nickname have me uneasy. And my lungs are heavy as it is. Be my hope and light.

Lines from November, Part 2

17.
There are times You startle me with consciousness, when I am aware of my raw need of You. Maker, Savior, take me to Yourself. You are all there is to live for.
I love You.

Later

There is so much that I want to remember about today - that I had just enough time to prep for class, that the first two classes went SO WELL and the students were SO ENGAGED and enthused that several of them came back at lunch to paint.
That S returned, and we've made pax.
That N said, "Thank you so much."
That J showed me his one ring, and I responded correctly with, "Keep it secret, keep it safe."

That there was so much joy, even in the crazy, back-to-back rush of things.
I delivered the B's portrait, successfully parking and leaving, and A gave me snacks, and the kids wanted me to stay and see projects and new beds, and the portrait looked beautifully at-home. And I've been paid 3 times this week, and my debt for the car repairs is already roughly halved.

And people were kind in traffic, and I read aloud to Mom and Dad, and Mom and I laughed heartily because she remarked on the "similarity" between our birthday cards for Dad (mine, Loyola's "Go forth and set the world on fire" and hers, a chipmunk at a campfire stuffing his face with marshmallows). Send forth the Jesuits! Eat s'mores! I don't see the similarity quite the same way. ;)

I can tell I need to sleep. My body is stiffening and my writing is becoming atrocious. Take all the glory from me. Be praised, Great Finder of Lost Things. Redeemer of the Lacklusters. Stone Heart Dissolver.

Love us into oneness.




18.
I am choosing You. And You are choosing me. Yes.
I am coming. Seek me and find me. You are my One True Friend.




19.
Mm, it's been a while since I wrote after midnight. But tonight was a contra night, and that changes things. It was a windy, sleety night, but we drove to the city and danced, long and hard. All except Q, who danced once with each of us and went to rest in the car. When we danced, we spun so fast my right earring went flying and bounced against the doorframe.

Thank You for 2+ hours of talking and praying with C. Catching up about K's passing, after 6 1/2 weeks without IV, so slow and painfully. Thank You that we could be honest with each other. Our needs are so real. We need You. To be really rooted and secure in You.
There will always be an overwhelming amount of need, sorrow, and cynicism around us. Help us to approach it ONLY from a place of rest in You. Protect us from our own tender hearts, our own laziness, pride.
Give us humility, love, and patience. Patience also with the feelings that may or may not accompany obedience.
There is a faith that is seen best in hindsight - it does not feel glorious or triumphant at the time.
As always, You must provide everything we need. Including synapses.




20.
I am thankful for this long Sabbath Day at home. I am restless, but You are patient with me, and even though I cannot claim anything remarkably successful about today (my work or my small endeavors), You have been gracious. You are gracious.
I am accepted.




21.
I'm still shaking, but thanks for bringing me home safe, for giving me courage.

Later
Thank You for seeing fit to heal her leg and arm through the prayers of Your servant. I am lacking in faith. I am very wary, if not cynical. I am sulking like an offended child, and much of me still thinks I'm justified. Why is there such stupidity alongside such suffering? Why do some make quiet devastating sacrifices while others scheme and mock? Why is what is noble so often made foolish? Why does foolishness have its charm?

If I spin myself in circles enough, I will fall down, which is what I want to do. I want to be covered in sleep, and wake with answers as natural and new as the dawn.

"I have told you these things,
so that is me you may have peace.
In this world you will have trouble.
But take heart!
I have overcome the world."
-Jn 16:33 NIV




22.
Thank You for this good day that wasn't what I hoped for or expected. Grace was evident in it:
A turkey from the H's, S's stamps (so perfect and well-timed). Feist's "The Reminder".  Progress on J's face. A car bill I can at least scrounge up. Rides to/from Bible Study. Lots of good hugs, and people who care about me.
Draw us through even the smallest pipes back to You, like Santa through the vents. Despite our fighting, draw us.




23.
Help me to come back into my true self in You. To love You first. I've been living as if I much rather love busyness, Netflix, and my own importance. Help me fear You. Help me be content in this season. Thank You for Your kindness in this day, even though I wish I had painted longer, with more focus.
I'm thankful to have the car back, and for the walk with Mom.
I'm thankful for Your second chances, and the simplicity of me and You. I cannot live for anyone else. Take me by both hands and swing me back into freedom. BLESS tomorrow.




25.
It feels good to be alive tonight. To be a little brave, a little tired and creative. Just got back from a singalong in Lancaster City with H and the gang. I brought them jam. T and I talked. I drove home in the peaceful dark, reminiscing over similar drives two years ago. That route at night is a dream.
Thank You for helping me PAINT AND GARDEN today, and for the Christmas tree. I'm not very gentle or understanding. Help me learn to de-escalate, and to let go of my own wishes without bitterness or martyrdom. Continue to school me in this. Thank You.
Refresh my heart. Pierce me with Gospel. Please keep me praying and giving what I can give.




27.
This was a lovely evening with Mom and Dad. Good banter and laughter at the table, looking at jewelry from Grandma, arranging the living room for the holidays, reading Sayers and watching "The Crown".




28.
Lord, show me what You would have me do today. Already I feel "off" from my plan (or non-plan). Help me to be secure, prepared, joyful, flexible. Let me see You. Work through me, things of beauty and truth. Give me a great rumbling hunger for goodness. Lead me to the nugget of joy in creating, again. The freedom in giving. Remind me where I'm forgetful.




29.
I think "diminish" is a beautiful word. I took note of it from Galadriel's lips a few weeks ago, but Mom has been using it recently as well. There is something very John the Baptist about it. .

Lord, I need Your help to be grounded and ready for tomorrow, and the day after. Good as today was, I left a lot of loose ends. And I don't want to be scattered between small tasks.
Keep my string taut, help me sway and dip, but not careen or buckle.
Help me give You my whole self again, whole and dense and flaming like a Christmas pudding.
Or smaller, calmer, like a green pea popped in Your mouth. 

Lines from November, Part 1

1.
Today was topsy-turvy, and all the better for it. Work in the morning here, shopping in the afternoon.
I love the rhythms of Tuesdays, though they're tiring. They have their customs.
I had a friendly interchange with a gentleman customer and lady cashier at Family Dollar. I saw B at Wegman's, in front of the parking lot waiting to be picked up. It was very uncomfortable, he tried to hug me and instead we recalculated and I pressed a few fingers into the palm of his outstretched hand, passing quickly, sounding bright and evasive.

What I hate is that I don't even think I can explain to him without opening the door for more expectation on his part. I don't completely ignore him, as J suggested, but I'm not sure what is worse. Help me be a healer, not a murderer. Help me be shrewd, kind, wise, blameless. Not simply absorbed in my own comfort/safety, but no gullible and pointless martyr, either.
I do not need to feign friendship with men I do not trust. I am not their savior. But show me what I am, and should be, and help me be that, unflinchingly.

Thank You for waking both Mom and Dad this morning, and timing things just right so Dad could make the early train.
I am NOT ready for the rest of this week. But You can make me so. Be my only comfort. Remind me that You are. Give me breathless bearhugs, give me courage.




3.
Thank You for seeing me safely through today, all of today, in Your faithfulness.
Sweet notes from Mama to start off the early morning, sweet words from You, less than an hour's commute. The fog lifted in the parking lot as dawn broke, robins layered the world in song, fiery trees glowed in the grey.

And every class went well. I felt the most rapport with the 6th graders, had the most difficulty with the 10th +. But it was good. M & R helped me clean up, I left just before 4 and made it home just after 5! Miraculous!
Thank You.
So I made potato soup, and I'm chillin' in my room.
Oh Lord, I want You. And I need Your help to be faithful. Help me believe You, pray hard, pray free, pray joyously.




4.
Well, Lord, I had hoped to be asleep right now. But help me believe in You, instead. Help me work through whatever needs to be worked through, here. As I pray, as I eat bread in bed (bliss- it's still that fleeting combo of soft & crusty).

I need to learn to love like a woman, not a girl.
And I need to be mature and circumspect in the relationships I really invest in right now - where they're headed, what they mean.
But, Lord, I'm not one who knows how to love better by loving wiser. I humanly respond with, "Well then, snuff the love!"
Show me, instead, what true, tough, tender love is like. Willing to cause pain if necessary for wholeness. Willing to hold fast in discomfort. Patient and faithful to the point of absurdity. But not naive.
I'm a real human being. I'm honey and dung.




5.
I could get used to this. Succour days like this. Mom provided a "birthday" breakfast gratis, Dad shared pumpkin spice coffee. Paintings finished - !

Reading Alexander on the deck, in the sunlight, with cool traveling air. A thank-you card from the Ms, which I carried in my lips up the apple tree to read. Dinner with K and C at a fancy Tapas restaurant.

Thank You for Middlemarch while gessoing. For helping me decide how I will vote. Remind me of the preciousness of life. At the same time, help me let go of mine. Help me not count my life too precious to spend in service of others, or to sacrifice so that someone else can live.
I already have You. You are the flavor in any pleasure - even bread is anticlimactic. But I don't have anywhere near enough of You.
I need You tonight.

"But I want You more, I want You more, as if I'd never said before..."
(Jordan Klassen)
"I love you... like kick drums on your bedroom door."




6.
I'm a bad Sabbather. I'm afraid of the deep end, I splash in and out of the shallows, and maybe float a bit, but I haven't learned to trust myself to dive, to let the air burn in my chest, and not panic.

Lord, I am still too distracted. And whenever I try to be mature and adult, I only notice how pathetically childish I am. If You are applauding me, I suspect it is the way we applaud children who are attempting a riddle, or a magic trick, or imitating an Olympic athlete: this is adorable - the concentration is so cute.
I can almost see me with my tongue sticking out, hands poised dramatically.

Thank You for a sense of humor, and thank You for saving me by grace, because otherwise I'd be awfully discouraged right now. I'm incapable of any real love or power or wisdom without You. I'm flighty, and self-absorbed, and ignorant.
Please take me in and train me, however You can, to be foolish for You, weak for You, unselfconscious for You. Just looking at You, thinking about You, in love with You.
Scrub out the fears and the persistent lies. Strap truth securely around me, Jesus.




7.
It is so sweet to be alive again today, Lord. Help me live to the fullest. Help me worship You, whatever I feel.

Later

Kiss You for today. A very productive, hopeful day. Finished off with the Advisors' Meeting and reading Sayers aloud to Mom and Dad, and reading "The High King" to myself.
Tomorrow is election day. Make us Christlike in our votes and in our attitudes.

Sustain us as the weather grows steeply cooler. As we prepare. Thank You so much for all the home time I've had recently. I've needed it. Be my nest.




8.
We still don't know who won... I don't, anyway. Avoided news and social media. But it looks like it could be T-.
These verses You gave me the other day are coming to mind...

"The decision is announced by messengers, the holy ones declare the verdict, so that the living may know that the Most Hight is sovereign over the kingdoms of men and gives them to anyone he wishes and sets over them the lowliest of men."
-Dan 4:17 NIV

Help me trust You in whatever happens. As Mom just said, if he wins, we have deserved it, and there are lessons we will have to learn. You will have to help me to be clear-eyed, and not a mocker. Prayerful and respectful and yet not avoiding the truth or making excuses. I still don't think he could last 4 years. Impeachment, if not something worse... but then again, You can humble the proudest heart. Let Nebuchadnezzar be the case study - and let me pray for humility, repentance, and kindness to the oppressed (v. 27).




9.
Savior, help me. The future looks so bleak right now.
Somehow, turn us into a country that loves the world. That embraces the "other". Where the unwanted of every nation can find a home, and a new beginning. Can find You.
Bring us Syrian refugees. I didn't make that welcome sign for nothing. We haven't been praying for nothing.
But I know I haven't been praying enough. Or listening for You. Help me now, here in this lonely beautiful house, while salt clings on my eyelashes and my vitals ache.
You, Maker of everything that exists, are the only peacemaker. The only hope we ever can have. Give me Gospel, and nothing else. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.
Reap Your harvest.




12.
"It is to me indeed 'Victoria'"! (Chesterton)

Best Friend, this was a plentid day, as I see now I am come to the end of it. Varied, rich, and sweet. Psalms. Paintings. Potato soup alone, by candlelight. Finishing "The High King" while pacing the back deck, in the golden glow, until my fingers and feet were numb with cold. Going to the S's and watching Fellowship, and munching and sipping goodness, and enjoying each other's company.
I glazed and painted. Listened to music and "Middlemarch", finished the Albania/Kosovo/Montenegro Dispatch over lunch. Responded to G's article. Mailed off C & S's recording. Called Papa. Didn't call E.

Oh... I don't know how to decide what matters, because You seem to take such precious care of details, and I don't want to miss anything. Like how You help me drive even when I'm off. Like making me uproariously gassy when I'm home alone, but politely controlled out with friends. Like no snow, after all. Like deviled eggs, spinning in the kitchen. Like F texting for prayer, and You answering. Like a few true words hitting their mark.

I can trust You beyond everything. Stir up our desire, our zeal, our love for You. Heedless of ourselves. Be my reputation. Love me out of this funk, into something wiser, kinder, bigger. Take me in Your arms and carry me that way, all tomorrow.




13.
I'm thankful for this day. It began with a noble pheasant poking around under the pear tree. I began a new song on the piano. And tonight I re-recorded Psalm 10.

Although I wish they were more deeply connected to You, I was thankful for the times of rest I had, outside, flat on the deck while the sun was warm enough, and inside on my bed, listening to rich sad soundtracks. I ate supper to B's music. That was very good.
Please go before me this week, weave all the threads, make something beautiful and honoring to You. Guide me with bit and bridle; I must not be impetuous.
The LORD, the LORD, is King forever and ever.




14.
Dear Jesus,
This is my last day home alone. It has been precious. I spent most of the daylight hours at S's, cleaning and baking a very little, and talking and eating and praying and being blessed much more.
I baked chicken, printed paintings, read and paced, ate. Worked out, ending with wonderful sweaty dancing and yoga. I showered and finished the movie, which is frustratingly difficult to skip through cleanly, but which is worth the struggle. I did cry.
I cried during Pastor B's prayer yesterday morning. These are good signs.
But something the tears tonight revealed to me is that I want to be wanted. Meaning that I long to give myself to a love that has waited and fought and trusted. I want to bring pleasure and joy and fulfillment, to love back fiercely and loyally. To be someone's answer to prayer.
I do appreciate Bathsheba's character in the movie, but most of the time she's only exasperating or convicting me. Gabriel Oak is the one I really want to see happy (ti voglio bene). So that's You. Because it's such a picture of You, and Hosea, and You again. I hate Gomer, but I will love her and be her if it means Your praise in the end. If it means Your inexorable love is displayed, resplendent.

But Jesus, help me now, to love You with all truth, purity and passion. With my whole howling heart, scandalously, recklessly, breaking my jar and pouring myself out to You.

Make me faithful to You from start to finish.