I watched the snow fall,
a white Thanksgiving
made
before my glistening eyes.
And I thought of my own words:
It snowed.
slowed.
and I wondered how such smallness
could fall so heavy,
pooling in drifts that twist,
writhe,
peak,
defying the pull of gravity.
The weight of it welled up in me,
how all the smallest gifts
pile up and overflow
into mountains of beauty
into a life.
My hands all soapy, I crumbled inside,
knowing this is how we are purified.
Thursday, November 27, 2014
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
Where We Are
Something crumbles.
The words have been all dammed up, and the eloquence, the art, has been elusive. I have tried to
write, to build with small word-stones a reminder of this season I am in.
The learning, growing, healing and knowing flood me as I allow myself to feel the sharpest of pains. It is what has been whispered to me by the other word-builders who string together sentences like garlands to decorate our minds. I hang quite a few in my little attic.
As the days shrink dimmer, there is this thinking about light.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness, to bear witness about the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light.
The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. John 1:1-13
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness, to bear witness about the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light.
The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. John 1:1-13
The challenge hung in the air as the choir left last Thursday night: to let the words fall afresh on our ears. He spoke of hymns and songs, but it is these words, these Words from the Word, the One who came to us, these are the words that hang in graceful swags about my mind.
Read them again. Go back and read them. Slowly. Without expecting the words that come next.
The darkness has not overcome. Let the words print deeply, don't just ink, but etch them on your heart. carve them into your minutes, breathe them every second. Because sometimes I think we live as though the darkness has won. This absent-minded child of God forgets who her Father is. Before our cellphones broke and our cars ran out of gas, before the price of milk went up, before the world tore itself into the pieces scattered as they are—He was there. Not only was He there, but He knew. He knew us, and our frustrations, and can we ever stop forgetting that where we are is no mistake?
Where we are is no mistake.
Honestly, that changes everything for me. It changes every day into something destined, something to be treasured even in ragged shadows that clutter His light. When I realize that the present, the now—where I am—is where I am supposed to be, I stop trying to leave. And I start trying to see what I am meant to see. To hear and know what I am supposed to know. I start looking for Him, instead of His way out for me.
I start looking at where I am instead of what comes next.
And oh, how it changes me.
Where we are is no mistake.
Honestly, that changes everything for me. It changes every day into something destined, something to be treasured even in ragged shadows that clutter His light. When I realize that the present, the now—where I am—is where I am supposed to be, I stop trying to leave. And I start trying to see what I am meant to see. To hear and know what I am supposed to know. I start looking for Him, instead of His way out for me.
I start looking at where I am instead of what comes next.
And oh, how it changes me.
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