Photo by Noelle Otto
I don’t know where you went when you left me.
I have to believe you were sure you had to leave.
People always seem to have to be, have to go, have to hear what someone else has said.
The Truth running away like a spool of thread.
Still, I remember it felt like drowning in a rip tide.
There is a sadness in the end, in the eyes of it all.
I am much the stronger for it but I don’t wait for your call.
Photo by Pixabay
The Cheshire Cat’s moonshine smiles white.
The Hobbit’s Shire sends a woodsmoked sunrise.
The Midnight Cowgirl still rides wild and high.
Treasure Island’s grand Osprey weaves and glides.
The great Lion Aslan’s shadow still comforts me.
The Little Women sisters all still speak to me.
All these childhood stories are pages in my mind.
A little girl who loves books still lives inside.
Photo by Miri
Standing on the highest sand dune people moved back and forth on the ground below. She no longer has their youthfulness of an unlined face but she knew she finally possessed the joy of ageless Grace. The pilgrimage called her to this beautiful place. The wind and the sun an old friend on her face.
Now she is the shell seeker in the wide brimmed hat, as a child playing in the sun she’d laughed at people like that. She remembers younger days when she grew weary but now the days of peace are what linger here. Emotions don’t obey the rules they are the heartbeat in being human. Like waves reaching the shore emotions can be kept for a moment but are better when given away.
The shell seeker’ s eye remains clear and adept while watching the children play. She knows that life is not going back but more of giving it away. The Truth is, life consists in learning and loving well with Grace underneath God’s sun. To remain whole in the midst of life’s ups and downs, to surrender all secrets and lies is anointing oil to the soul. To shed insincerity and live in the present, the waves echo behind her now compelling her to go on.
Photo by Nadi Lindsay
Wisteria vines will grow on walls, over other plants and along the weathered splintered gray fence that is long forgotten. The vine of Wisteria is thick and knarled and strong…
The fragrance of the low hanging purple clumps of flowers permeated the bright spring day and it made her feel lightness in her heart that she had not experienced in a long while. She thought about how precious her memories of first love are. There in lies the treasure. It is in the pleasure and the pain…if you allow it, first love leads to the Truth that we know nothing much of love.
She is older now and reflects back often on what she thought love was as a young woman or rather perhaps she was simply in love with what she thought love was. She loved but then she lived. In that living she learned that love is tough as nails. Love is knarled like the Wisteria vine. Love will grow over barriers and around obstacles still blooming and still fragrant. Love is having the strength to stay. Love is a wild and furious risk, a pouring out of all that one can from that cup and drink it. Love is rich and poor. Love is sickness and health. Love is a verb, an action word. Nothing about love is passive. Love cannot be manipulated. Love. Risks. Everything. The Holy God is Love’s name…ponder this, ponder Him…you will find Him because Love never quits and perfect Love cast out all fear and Love never ever fails.
I think if you were here right now we’d sit and talk about the different shades of doubt.
You would smile at my gray hair and the way things are while you sit in your old easy char…
You wouldn’t like the new technology.
It’s like Alice through the Looking Glass and all the white knights are talking backwards.
You would say, “this too shall pass.”
I miss seeing you on a Sunday and the joy you always brought to me.
Your love for us was deep and fierce, the best of your heart is what I miss…
I think if you were here right now we’d sit and talk about how it use to be.
You’d smile and say, “it’ll be alright…” while you sit in your old easy char.
Photo by Eternal Happiness
As I lay down my head in week six of this catastrophe I just want to say if you can fall asleep but not stay asleep that is okay. If a myriad of emotions and logic are surfing on your brain waves it’s ok. If you fall asleep and wake on a couch or a child’s room it’s ok. If you are praying more it’s ok. If you cannot find the words to pray it’s okay. If you are a conqueror one minute and not so brave the next minute it’s ok. If there are a hundred thoughts and feelings lying under the five you speak it’s ok. If you mourn for the dead and grieve for our globe it’s ok. These are where the avenues of grief and change and loss take us. It is ok. If you are active in politico or have turned all media completely off it’s okay. For it is not strength to pretend you are thriving in uncertainty and that you struggle with doubt and fear. It is in our weaknesses and doubts that God comes near. He is not limited not tethered to a cosmic heavenly throne. He is right here with us in our fragility and we are not alone. Jesus knows every cell of human bondage. He knows of courage being one heartbeat away from fear. Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us and He is with us now. So rest your weary head in his comfort when you can. I have seen His beauty and have tasted His goodness and it is a healing balm. Lay down your head and rest my friends for tomorrow we will try again. There is victory in His power over things we can’t understand. I have seen His Salvation in life and in death and He has never forgotten not one of His own since before the foundation of the world. Shalom tonight dear world. As for me I have tasted and have seen the goodness of the Lord and He is more than we can fathom and so if today you fell apart it’s okay because He never will…
Photo by Trung Nguyen
Everything that used to be solid is suddenly fluid.
The mid-afternoon sky the color of hammered gold
Waves of heat rising from the horizon looks like water only to find a hard rock road
I do love living where the Sky is bigger
Somehow it feels tedious to have too many trees above
If I don’t know you then I don’t know anybody
It is like waiting to touch the bottom of a bottomless well
Photo by Skitterphoto
The North shore of my piece of sugar white heaven faces the sound (Bay) side of the island.
The three mile bridge stands sentinel guard and my small bay is dotted with white sails stirring my heart.
The bridge that brings me home to my nautical world.
The smell of fish and salt is a soothing balm to a weary girl.
The hermit crabs do a miniature square dance that leads them safely home.
The Sandpipers play hopscotch in the tide pool foam
The Gulls swoop and squawk over schools of fish and bones
There is a different peace on the Sound, the quiet side.
It always feels like the end of the day here where the tired come home to rest.
Like a sweet baby’s coo the waves lap upon the shore.
The “Quiet Side” is what the locals call the back door.
And are happily living and dying on this island right here.
Photo by Alex Fu
Even in the darkness I cannot hide from you…
When my fear whispers that I will not be able to cope
that I will never make it out of this hole…
Faith tells me my Father knows what I need
The Father who keeps filling me with his strength
and just in time He supplies all the Holy Light
that I need to battle through this dark night…
I raise my head from my prayer and I see Jesus kneeling there
The Light of the world has prevailed and no earthly power can keep me from His care…
The crave for connection… As we approach the advent of the first coming of Christ I am reminded that in my sixty three years of life I have never observed a more isolated society even though communication avenues are more brilliant than ever. I love that we share the love of our families on Facebook as this is the most critical form of connection in the human race…though all of us cannot connect with blood family we still have a longing to belong.
There is much data out there now regarding anxiety and shame. I believe that most of us are still very uncomfortable with these very two unraveling entities. Shame unravels the deepest level of our ability to “connect” to anyone and Vulnerability, which causes anxiety, comes with the extremely high RISK of being wounded. Connecting with another human being is that level that gives life meaning. To tell the true story of your whole heart tells who you are. Most of us guard that story due to past failures to be understood or to find ourselves left like a wounded soldier bleeding on the battlefield…while this may sound somewhat depressing I do not believe this is true…I have lived my life both ways. One, guarded from any and all who might hurt me or think me strange (which no doubt I am strange. Hal) On the other hand I have chosen to take the Vulnerable life path in my latter years and here is why…The most vulnerable person I have the deepest relationship with is Jesus Christ. He chose to be vulnerable in the hopes that those who believe in his sacrifice will always have Hope and Life…deep inside of us we all long for these two things above all else in my opinion… when I reflect on the Courage it takes to deny “shame” and embrace “vulnerability” it is mind boggling…I have messed up innumerable times attempting these two actions of life. The result is it leaves me victorious, humble, and often times “wounded” and at risk for “injury” deep down in my soul but oh my how WORTH it the victories, failures, and wounds have been! As I approach 64 years the end of the month I must say yes I have regrets and there are things I would do differently now but I do not regret one single day that God has allowed me to breathe the breath of an abundant life and to embrace the sweaty, difficult, messy parts as well as the fragrance of a rose or a daffodil in the Spring, the salty sea of Summertime, the woodsmoke smell of Fall, and the biting cold of Winter over and over again…
My Christmas wish is that I would continue to tell the story of my whole heart and that each of you would share yours too. It is the reason for those of us who believe in the Holy Birth of Jesus continue steady on…
Where Charity stands watching
And Faith holds wide the door,
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks,
And Christmas comes once more.