Worth a Telling


I can feel my self becoming removed from the conversation, from the room, from this place.

As though I have been here many times before yet am now born into “such a time as this.” It is easier to let my self be free when I realize this story is not about me. I do not have to carry the answer, the load, the laughter, the grief, the joy…I get to experience it but I am not the atonement… but I am worth a telling.
I am the spring day when the daffodils and hyacinth bloom after Winter’s death and fill the world with the heady scent of new life.

I am the dark rich dirt that lies thick undercover in the deep forest with moss and fungus growing out of it. I am the bright orange fall leaf that gets to trip and twirl down the city street in front of two lovers taking a walk. They try to run and catch me but they cannot. I am not their love affair.
I am the stark bare trees of Winter’s blast. I dance among the stars and sit upon the moon whenever I feel like it.
It is really not a mystery yet remains mysterious. It is truly not difficult to understand.

I do not have answers regarding quantum physics nor the dimensions that I live in, for they are many and some are not of this world. I only know that my heart provides my body and brain with new oxygenated fresh red blood more than one hundred thousand times a day! Imagine such a miracle just for a moment or two.
So then you must tell your story. It may or may not help someone. It most likely will but either way you are worth a telling.

I leave you with this final thought from a writer Hunter Thompson…
“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a Ride!”

Not your normal Christmas Bible reading..

Photo by icon0.com

Knowing full well the cost that lay ahead it says in Philippians 2:5-11 that the mind of Christ was this… “Jesus did not consider it robbery to be equal with God, yet chose to make himself of no reputation and become human… even to the point of death, even the death of the cross…”

The most astonishing part of the Christian story, for me anyway, is that Jesus Christ thought that giving up being God to become  fully human was not being robbed but chose to do it…when I consider the magnificence of this desire that Jesus has to save all mankind…I find I am speechless.

So if Jesus Christ has done anything for you (me), Paul says in the beginning of his passage…if Jesus has changed you, touched you, comforted you, died for you, forgiven you…anything at ALL then can you at least try to take on the same Humility that he put on to become human and be mercilessly degraded and humiliated and die for your sin? WHOA!!! What?

For me, my Christmas season has begun with me on my knees praising God and saying, “God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

God’s Blue

photo of blue sky

Photo by Elia Clerici

 

Like Einstein, I believe imagination just might be more important than knowledge. I am actually sure of it…

“In all honesty I find myself to be a bit of a “lapser”, if you will, the old lady said to me as we sat on the park bench. She laughed a hearty belly laugh and continued, “I lapse into doubt that I will make it to tomorrow and then I lapse into desperate hope that I will! See that vivid color blue of the sky today? I thought it was a question but she went right on talking…”that is the color of the sky when there are no doubts and everything is crystal clear to me. That is what I call God’s blue. I know without a doubt how to live a life of purpose and kindness. Oh how I love God’s blue!”

My heart was warmed by the assurance that I had just happened to sit down on a park bench next to the right person. “I have lapses too I said, lapses in “How” to live well, I commented. The old woman did not laugh at me but sat there pensive. I figured at that point she would cast me away as crazy and take quick leave of our bench. She did not leave however and it wasn’t until years later I realized she could not leave because she knew me. She was at the end of her pilgrimage and she knew she was sent to that bench just for me. I now want to sit on the bench in the park for other pilgrims if I get the chance.

She began to speak of many things, deep things, funny things, horrible things and I listened hard. She shared how when Day’s sky was a gray-blue those were the days when she knew God was covering her with his Almighty protective wing. She said when there were many obstacles like clouds and winds in the sky that she realized the passing of time and the briskly moving clouds were a reminder every minute is a treasure. Then she said the colors of a Sunset sky were evidence of God’s love of relationships where all colors are mingled together to show His brilliance and to remind us that each of us is a different and known color to Him. These analogies went on for hours and I cannot do her wisdom justice with mere words. She painted with words like a Master.

The night sky she said is not to be feared because it is ordained to us for the purpose of rest, health, growth, and tears. The moon she said is a reminder that even though the “lesser” light rules the night it is no less light. The “dark” is the constant reminder that God does not slumber when we do. She said the moonless, dark sky is the hardest one because you have to believe in the light even when you cannot see it.

As the sun began to set all the colors of creation appeared and the old lady and I sat in silence in God’s Cathedral and worshipped Him, the Creator and all of his magnificent skies. As we parted the old lady took my hand and she put it to her soft crepe paper cheek. She said, “the next time you “Lapse” into a “how to do life well” simply look up and God’s blue will guide you and give you all the answer you need.

I do it every day.

All the Pretty Horses

girl standing near carousel

Photo by Abby Chung 

 

Joni Mitchell and a cup of tea…

I shut the door so no one can see

and dream of something kept underground

when I had to jump off that merry-go-round.

 

I loved the ride and all the pretty horses

I loves what I thought I would be.

I would have sold my blood to be published

so all the work could read.

 

 

I would wax eloquent and be held in high esteem…

all the other riders would admire me.

They would gaze at me on my grand carousel

marveling at all the wisdom I share.

 

Well now I speak in present tense…

the merry-go-round broken down and spent.

For my profound literature there is no need

I still like Joni and a cup of tea.

sjad

The Sacred Ache

hourglass-time-hours-sand-39396.jpeg
This sacred ache  only you can fill

no words can describe the place

when you shattered that hour glass of shame

all the dust cleared I heard you call my name

 

Nothing on earth fulfills this longing

I have learned this yearning is not to be despised

yet held within so tenderly and bittersweet

you hold every tear I have ever cried

 

This sacred ache that you have filled

keeps me gazing at the stars each night

I look for your return my Lord and King

each day I long to live inside your light

 

 

No one else can propagate this longing

so I freely keep it there and open

when you shattered that hour glass of shame

when all the dust had cleared I heard you call my name…

 

“Daughter are you crying?
do the tears belong to me?
Daughter I am close as I can be.
and our time has just begun.”

Hours and Ions will bend…

 

seagull flying

Photo by Frans Van Heerden

 

Hours and ions will bend

as words pour on to paper

 

A long day’s journey

salty is the flavor

 

White sails billow

the gull cries for favor

 

I think I’d like to be alone

but pain can turn the tables

 

A wild joy takes me over

pure substance hovers just inside

 

A wild joy is my lover

ever changing with the tide

 

 

 

 

 

Cage of Flesh and Bone

 

brass wrought container

Photo by Jessica Cortez

 

I heard there was a party not in this Cage of flesh and bone

Since there is little or no magic here, I am stepping on down the road

 

Time is out of mind, send me an inviting card

Just swaying in the Twilight, leaving earth won’t be so hard

 

I was interviewed in a gutter, took a catnap in a palace grand

Just a wayfaring woman, Shadowing the Promise Land

 

A duchess lost in fiction in love with a Strangers moon

Now Truth is my destination, Time will be forgotten soon…