Saturday, October 17, 2015

Projection

The grass where I sit has been clipped low. Just a little higher than the top of my hand, my palm laid flat against the ground, fingers spread. There is a herd of unperturbed, healthy horses nearby. That explains the short grass. I smile. I can hear the gentle sounds of their teeth, working their food. Some of them look at me, I look at them, and they go back to their grazing. Not afraid, neither am I.

There are trees nearby. Sometimes a breeze blows their leaves into a wild chorus, eventually shushing itself quiet again. There are flowers.  No neat and tidy rows; only the reckless, sweet assymetry I use to see in the early spring.  It makes my heart feel full now. I do not feel the subtle longing to pick them and carry them with me. I love them where they are and I know there will be more. Their scent reaches me.

And I do take breaths. And I do feel hunger. But the hunger isn't pitched or anxious. It is anticipation and the comfort of knowing deeply within, that needs will be met perfectly, at exactly the right moment.

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Pumpkins

Once when checking out at the grocery store with my baby Marley, I miscalculated and had to put back the little pumpkin I had picked up because i couldn't afford it. The man behind me in line caught up with us in the parking lot and handed me the pumpkin, he'd paid for it. He wanted to make sure my little girl had a pumpkin. His kindness blew my mind, it still does. Probably the money was nothing to him but it was brave. I could have gotten angry or rejected him.

We went to the farm today and we rode on a hayride and we each picked out a pumpkin and I didn't feel tense or stressed at all. It felt very extravagant and good. And I was very much reminded of that man's kindness. I pray I can find the bravery that kindness many times requires.

I'm just feeling so thankful.

Friday, October 9, 2015

Self-prescribed

The unexamined life might not be worth living.  I guess it depends on how you define the words and under what context, etc.

For me, the life without witnesses is stagnation. I can examine myself day and night; actions and thoughts and motivations broken down into their smallest parts and the minutiae put under a microscope. But still some development  is born of wisdom from an outsider's perspective. 

Though I study and consider and strive to discern what the better part of wisdom is; though I actively pursue improvement and growth. If I never have someone to stop (upon witnessing me immersed in my follies) (of which, there are many and often) and admit to me that I am making a mistake... I stagnate.

I am human and excel in lying to myself. I cannot see, blinded by love for the petty god of my existence, the failings that persist in my everyday, my every-hour.

It is a condition I have inflicted on myself. I have carefully and painstakingly constructed walls to insure my alienation. Like a politician, I am ever mindful of what  public availability I allow. Permitting only vulnerabilities that allow for superficial contact.

Every titled and numbered sin, I have committed. Every one. And those sins too complex and subtle to be named with surety, I have committed too.

And by grace of God and the gift of faith, I know that my failings will not seperate me from my Creator. My spirit is redeemed by the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The holy spirit groans within me for what is needful, far beyond my understanding.

My life is pale; the known world is sad and broken; there is no hope in the world, save one. But it is a sure hope. We do not wait to see if, only when.

And for now, my pale life stagnates for lack of fellowship. My worship is crippled by my fear.

God give me strength. God, make me brave! Prepare me and make able my heart to do the work that you have laid out for me.