What makes glorious life?
When pen and plight, too numb, collide
What beauty permeates stone?
Till I, in He, resound alone.
We talk, so often of death and pain
Yet forget the living
And here I stand with arms, waiting for direction, aiming for the target I cannot see
Or maybe I can…
Or maybe I am hesitant to step, without seeing where my feet will land
Either way, pen in hand, write my story.
I’ll go
I was once a dreamer of big dreams.
I still am
I once sat imagining all I could be.
I still do…sometimes.
And in the midst of who I was and who I am, I find this amazing dichotomy.
I’m not less than I was when the world was rose-colored.
I’ve faced giants no one saw coming.
But I’m here…
And I’m breathing.
I fight against non-existent clocks and existential realities until I’m numb and clocking in and clocking out.
But I am more.
I know it. Maybe you don’t.
Who plants the sun in its station?
Who holds the earth in orbit?
Who called me “more” when I was dust?
You are my audience and I clamor for applause while all you wanted was willingness.
So here I am.
Breath and bones in twilight.
Take my everything and make it meaningful.
The earth spins round until we are dizzy
Maybe today is tomorrow again or yesterday unleashed.
I don’t know
But I know I love you
And I know you and I are fixed in space and moment
And love is bigger than now
Eternity unleashed in the presence of my heart
Maybe it’s enough
If not, I’ll try again tomorrow
I sit at the table of a hundred imaginings
Holding my breath for the light
And the darkness can feel suffocating at times
But the light encompasses
And I wait for the music to rescue so I can sing along
But tonight, melody is fleeting
But God…
Superlative and encompassing
Beautiful and victorious in the midst of me.
Hope can be found in breathes…in moments when I inhale and exhale song and melody and the brooding chaos of the ache.
Tonight, the song can capture the waking wonder and I can imagine tomorrow
And maybe that’s enough
I’ll keep you posted.
Few times, in my life, have I ever felt this exhausted.
Blow me down like the air pumped into a balloon and I will pop
Mull me over with words and I will implode to nothing
Sink me in the earth with a step and I will cave to dust
Sleep is underrated to the, truly, tired!
The promise of heaven on a pillow where nothing comes in but surrender.
These are the nights that test the soul.
And I stand waking with the promise of dreams while the world slumbers.
Life is messy
Sleep is treasure and my pillow is screaming lullabies that should be quiet
In the place of the mind where the quiet goes to die, I wait
Until tomorrow when the siren blazes another day has come.
Until then, don’t speak or I may blow away.
When steal hearts rust, the breeze is threatening.
Goodnight world. I’ll see you on the other side.
If we don’t protect it, hope can feel like a balloon, filled to maximum capacity for a moment then let go to float into the air, sputtering, and flying unhindered.
Hope is so much more precious than this. I wish it were easy to tie the knot and seal it in all cozy and safe but even inflated balloons lose air over time.
There is only the constant application of pressure to save us. In the pressure, we stretch and hold firm to what we know. God is able. We are not alone! We can stretch farther than we think.
Don’t let gravity, the environmental circumstances of everyday, the pin-hole leaks in our defenses, deflate you. Keep your tank full! Let breath and air fill your lungs and your spirit. Lean in and believe.
Each breath is a moment in time lost once it’s accomplished. Steady your breathing. You can do hard things! And when it’s too much and you feel like you might burst, remember He is stronger than anything and He’s fighting with you and for you.
Breathe!
Maybe there’s something poetic about hiding in plain sight.
Or maybe it’s weakness.
Or maybe it’s strength to stay composed while the world crumbles and stirs around you.
Maybe it’s survival. Maybe it’s faith.
Maybe I’m not hiding at all! maybe I’m standing.
“Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.” Job 13:15
Call me into the deep where you are waiting
I’ve missed the feel of you
My head can hear you and my sensibilities know you but my emotions have fallen out the window.
Who have I become that my emotion is absent?
I was passion now I’m passive and that isn’t enough.
I don’t want to live in a world without feeling
It doesn’t satisfy
Reason is enough in a world of black and white but let’s be real we live in prisms
It isn’t enough for me.
I need the sunshine and the breaking of light over dim
I need to feel it
It’s who I am
And I’m not alone
We need to feel
Emotion carries us through the mundane
A world without feeling is nothing but muted strength struggling to hang on
I want to feel the daybreak
And cry when the light strikes the perfect pose
I’m not alone
I can feel it
So sing with me seekers and cry out for the dawn
It’s coming
Hang on tight
For some reason, I decided to dig back through the archives today. I guess I was interested to see how far I’ve come since I started throwing my thoughts out into the air. In honor of all the nostalgia, enjoy this little blast from the past. I still wonder a lot of these things…
I wonder if there is a haven for lost poems deep in the recesses of time…some magical place of calm & noise all jumbled together to form meaning.
I wonder if there’s a mystery to the soul that will never be solved until we meet our maker and then in His light, all will become clear, like a translucent breath given form and substance beyond its particles.
I wonder if there are places where two & two add up to three. You know…like me & you & we.
I wonder
I wonder at wonderful and it’s subjectivity, how the universals collide with perspective to form the moment when “it is good”
I wonder what happens to our dreams when we wake
I wonder what the substance of a prayer looks like from heaven and if mine have created something of beauty or a blob of selfish ambition. I pray the…
View original post 110 more words
The same phrase keeps resonating in my head this week, “Have you finished doing the last thing God asked you to do?” I’m thinking the answer is probably “no” but I can’t remember the last thing he asked me to do, which makes me realize I’m not listening as well as I think I am, which makes me resolve to tune in today, which makes me a better person, which makes the world a little bit better.
INSPIRED BY THE COMFORTER 