This morning I woke and ripped an old poem.
I was smiling as I tore open the words that never fit.
Now letters written in fear and not in honesty rest in shreds on this coffee table; I rejoiced as it fell (the lies must fade; the scales must fall away).
Trust is a strange and growing thing. It is fragile yet won’t stop getting taller–it has not yet bloomed.
The fall butterflies are mating and I think back to a very different day when new life seemed like a fable and confusion hung like fog.
That summer day I saw a hummingbird and prayed the resurrection.
But it was not till now that I experienced it: this fleeting moment holds the freedom of new life even as days grow slowly darker and winter approaches.
The summer hummingbird told prophecies of the autumn butterflies
When winter winds scratch skin and resurrection breaks through twitching, tired eyes.
The Lord Jesus is good.
“I am not a problem to be solved and I don’t want to be treated that way”
The same words hit differently when spoken by friend, by lover, by mother.
Did anyone else notice that the billboard of the Mosque on 12th street has the same word as the Campus Crusade for Christ T-Shirts? (The word is “PEACE”)
Looking at eyes is different than looking into eyes.
Did anyone else see the woman with a white-painted face and two pig-tails who spent the whole of the sermon wiping snot from her nostrils and creating a little pile of ripped napkins to prove it? (She wouldn’t tell me her name; She said she is trying to change it.)
We must walk our own journeys; We must make our own choices.
Did anyone else forget to look at the road because the way the cumulus clouds rested on the dark sheet of rain was almost too much to bear?
Sometimes there is no choice that won’t hurt.
Is this when we become utilitarian? (surely not, the heart refuses to be satisfied by utilitarian reasoning)
Is this when we become selfish? (No, narcissism is not love)
This is when we find ourselves on our knees.
Asking the Lord of peace to reign.
Asking Holy Spirit to guide.
There is no answer.
“There don’t seem to be many today who would be willing to treat the Bible as a strange book that is both full of ambiguities and open and life-giving. Many of its treasures are lost to those who bring to it only small questions.”