believer

you believed in me
when
i
couldn't
wouldn't

didn't

believe in myself.


the way your heart reaches out to caress mine
with encouragement
in the
form
of incredulity,
the way your voice goes
high
at the end of
your exclamations!
of sincerity in
The Truth About Who You Are, Melissa.

as you tell me my story,
the lens
focused
and
practiced
in your steady hands,
i feel treasured.
you see me.  the me
i didn't even tell you
the me i just am
and think i so cleverly
hide
from prying spotlights and
agendas out to tear me down.
you see right through the barricade
of
thorns
and
roses
and sparklers!
and puppies
all in motion and beauty
(look over here! over here!)

to the
quiet
of me
that you have seen since you first laid eyes on me
and i
can't
won't

don't

want to do it without you.

join me in my truth, dear love.
i see you back.

forever

"i'm sorry we don't have forever..."

floats in the background of tears filling the eyes of anyone

watching the father dying and the daughter living until

she starts to die.

nothing is permanent.
we take what we
have
and
hold
for granted as it is.

the forever we live in only
feels
endless
because it hasn't ended

habit or consistency, the pulsing of life in the everyday.

rarely is the flower both dead and alive
how the sun does shine
on the living and the dead.

it is your breath.
you choose.

it is found!

when you've looked everywhere
high and lo
inside and
out.  in the pocket of your favorite
jeans and in the book you
read last week.

with puzzled expressions
and nervous mouth twitches
serious pondering and
exasperated foot stomping.
every nook and cranny
and even your granny
has impatiently lifted her
left elbow for you to
peer underneath and
see that it is not there.
it is not anywhere.

but in your heart.
what you lost can be found.
just stop frantically searching
and pause.
to seek the Master's heart.
He'll lend an ear and
you will too.  "Find Me."

the depths

row
and grow
miles and miles beneath the sea
and just when you think
you're dead
BOOM
it hits your flank with an
inspiration none too kind.
this life!
you better wake up
sit up
swim up
and take it.
and live.
because you only sink
when you're still
breathing.

i have a secret

i have a secret
and this is how is goes:
i am terrified of falling in love.
most everyone i know has done it at some point or are in it's throes as we speak
most everyone i love has loved me back
most everyone i know is scared of something
but i think i
i am the most cowardly.
for who is scared of
love?

the courage of a lion
the heart of a warrior
the eyes of a doe
the adventuresomeness of a porcupine.
that sums me up.
up
up and into this fairy tale
that floats into neverneverland where i can be safe forever and never
have to be a grown up or love to the depths and beyond.
risk giving myself over to another human being just as flawed as myself.

no no no, says me.
i would much prefer to crouch
behind those bushes over there, you see
and watch
most everyone else
fall in love.
that's good enough for me.

wait, what?  you say that's a double standard?
oh that's ok, i'm not afraid of those.
*sigh*
ok fine, i am.
nevermind the whole thing.
see, this is why i never tell you secrets.

jerks like a knee

this pain jerks me awake

so cruel, like a joke that's not kidding.

no warning, no permission granted, but it sears just the same.

my head throbs and my nerves squeal

relent!

uncle!

cease and desist!

i give uuuuuuuup.

i can't handle this, god!

is what i yell through the most honest, unstoppable tears i have dropped in years.

the flood comes, night after painful night, when i haven't even wanted it, worked for it, sought it out.

this water falling from my eyes belies a heart fresh in healing from pain just as severe.

a root canal can fix only one of these things, and that is unfortunate

but bliss in the end.

because if i could, go to the doctor, and have him fix everything wrong with me

and get a prescription to kill this, numb it, i wouldn't. no, because he can only know so much, you see

and i need to know all

of me

before i can fix it.

even then

i can really only hold it together with band-aids and wishes

that god will hold me tight in the palm of his soul and protect me when the wave threatens again

in the middle of the night

this pain

i didn't ask for, but have and can't make go away.

if only a root canal could fix that.

peanut butter and jelly

eat
eat eat
this peanut butter and jelly sandwich
and make sure i have milk on hand, and cut the bread into triangles.
because sometimes
when everything else is going around you
going so hard
you just want
to be a kid again.
and jump on the little trampoline in your basement and frolic through the swamp behind your house
and know that when you wake up crying in the middle of the night from a nightmare
your dad will come in and pray for you and everything will be ok again.
and you can wear pj's until 11am if your mom lets you.
and there is none of this mad, mad world making you sad and angry and at a loss as how to help.
is this how we make a difference?
sometimes the best you can give is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich,
is a memory
of times when you knew life and love went together just so.
let this be so, god, let me hold your hand.
ahhhh.
thanks.

visit

it is as if i have left
never
to return
for a very serious face has turned mine
that says i cannot live like this any longer.
i was created for something less than a lie.
something only the truth can bare.
always the truth was there before the lie, only listen.
as promiscuous as the time has become
there is a place for me in the erie silence of
breathtaking trust.
for when i do less
i do less.
and when i do less
he does more.

the room

the room is endless and narrow

i feel the ceiling looking at me

this way is the only way to go

forward.

i have paused.

for far too long.

in front of a closed door

again.

why can't it be open?

why can't it be another door?

why can't it be a long time ago?

these doors are everywhere

they are all shut.

shit.

well, hm.

i will have to keep walking then.

because actually,

i want the door to swing open to ME

when i am not stopped

waiting

waiting

forever

staring

i want the air in the room

the light in the room

to GUSH with change and brillance

and fresh breath.

as the one opens!

to come chasing after me!

oh yes.

and i know it in my bones,

i have always known it will be so.

this room is long and wide open, carefree onwards saunter i.

allowed

allow yourself to hope.

for that day when you will go on a hike

with your husband and toddler.

allow yourself to hope.

for the moment when you realize your

fears won't be.

allow yourself to hope.

for the time when you show up with

someone else

no longer empty handed.

allow yourself to hope, filkins, because it won't be forever that you are here. and it hurts either way. let love in. let hope begin. let it stay.

crack open november

and let it breathe. like this book sitting in my hands

on my heart

written by one i know.

show me a part of your soul i can't handle and make it move the ground

this place is a new one

eager am i to turn off replay

and shove my depths into concentrating on your words.

a book is a feast for many enjoyed one at a time and spared not in the cloaked words of the past and present and future.

for this time is one we all will share and live through.

the tunnel narrows.

i turn off the computer.

and delve into the paper and ink.

oh, delicious.

batch out

when these dollars and cents add up to

be

the sum total of my life's time

up to this

point

i find another reason to pause

and search for the best.

the very best.

what i have before me is nothing less than the unpredictable and

potentially very full life of

living.

alone it is magnanimity.

with god it is magnificent even beyond my comprehension.

and this is why

i will never

can never allow myself to go it without the spirit which made me and lives in me still

this weakness, penchant for half-assed living due to it's easy nature

lends oneself to believe, nay, be clouded with, the vision of success.

but i have only succeeded when i have failed to live a life cloistered

a life uneven

with the keel

of the path

or the soft hewn planks of the stern

worn by the worried and frantic pacing during the storms.

nary a hair on my head goes uncounted.

these pennies and dimes will show me why

it is never the end or the change that results

but the moment in which i give it away.

let it never be me that settles.

for less.

than the best.

dry spell

crackle

and spackle

when you just can't stop to breathe

spit

fire

and roll on the ground

for when you can't blink you need not hesitate

halt and lay down

lay it all down.

take a nap, take a rest, take a break.

rest up in the warm covers and the security that

god's got your back

and your front and your everything uncertain.

he's in the picture, he is the picture.

lord, when all i can think about are my failures you give me rest, peace, persuade me yet again with just a glance

that i am not lovely because of what i do. no not in the least.

i am loved by you and created to bring all that you have shoved in my soul to life simply because of what you are.

this war that wages in the blink of an eye in the conflict of middle battleground ceases when i drop my gun and raise my surrender

for you are always ready to jump in my stead

lead me away from the middle and give me perspective.

let the things i think on be noble and pure and a delight to your eyes, god. all of them.

i think,

therefore i am.

promise me this dry spell won't last, father. whatever it is, just promise me you'll be here speaking still.

promise.

disrupted

i am not lonely yet we are not fanciful or starry eyed

this disruption is not too far away, in fact it is right in my face

see the look in my soul?

the window floats open on hinges always oiled

during the meeting i could tell you were coming

i knew the ground had shifted

how, i couldn't tell you

but then it surely had.

forever i have waited for this distinction

for words to come and go and be and be just so

that i do not know what they are

but that the truth must be spoken and if it is of the past present future the only thing that matters is that they are said

and in real time

not alone and sadly but with others who have not learned how to avoid patience having

and who listen and are with each other during everything. during life.

this disrupted notion is not contrived or a motion to move to a new place, new station

merely a grand scheme to move my contrite heart out of the cold and into the heat of the day

out of the shadows of just ho-hum and focus in the eye of the lens at the sun and risk my sight and my shutter and

disrupt.

as i have been

disrupted.

alphabet soup

fraught forlorn

eyes enter

near now

towards together.

yea, yell

mountains made

kids kairos

beauty besot.

stolen secrets

picture possession

laughter lightly

held higher.

awaken ardent

woeful wetness

crime committed

gregarious generosity.

fresh faces

and just like that

the night goes from

sad and pitiful

to understood and shared.

even though we haven't

spoken of what is on my

mind.

being with

with

with.

a friend like you.

new

and old.

always kind and forever

ready to understand...

makes this dark ache

go to another place

where

i am not staying.

you have taken me

from myself

and given me

you. streams of gratitude.

bedtime

amidst the laughter and the glances

music and the pain of close but not close enough just yet

we sit

and eat pancakes and wonder

'is this the way we make friends?'.

i have said often i speak more than i listen and i have

said

it

often.

lord.

make my ear one quick to listen

my heart a sponge for those i am around

make my arm a resting place for the weary

and this worthless back useful to carry those whose burdens outweigh them.

as a finger of you, god, let me lighten let me push

the corners of the frown into a hopeful glance.

make me a friend, father. one who truly jumps at the opportunity to BE with those that need to be WITHed.

i am anxious without you, and with you. i am heavy with the danger of letting my small mouth make the biggest blunder of all

by saying so much

that i fail to say anything

of love

of silence

of listening.

let's get together, yeah yeah yeah. why don't you and i combine?

not a whisper

wring the word

his name

from your lips, the gut wrenching sound of his suffering love

and desire for your heart pulling on your tongue as you speak.

this is the word

name

that showers you with life and shame

freedom and the way

he is, this man, this god

he is mine.

jesus.

i will not whisper his name, and i refuse to believe the only way you will hear me is with your ears.

but i will scream and fly with the word he is

and always has been

for me

and everyone ever made and unknown to the strength of this universe

but i will recognize.

that he is all there is.

this love i know only because he is, he died, he never gave me up, he lives.

i will pray

but never in a whisper

only in grace and ferocity will these words

names

leave my lips.

he strains to hear it all, and i know he will not forget me, never them he saw first, before the beginning.

fences

i know this is what i know

i can think and write at the same time

i feel connected again for the first time in months

i can't remember when

i tell you

when

i felt this involved

able to process and

think

hurt

forgive

understand

see the truth clearly and abolish the double-mindedness of the past.

for i cannot be of two hearts.

i must believe myself.

i must love myself.

i must forgive myself.

i must

listen

to the voice of god and pray blessings on those who hurt me, knowingly or blind.

he said it would be easy, he whispered, it would be natural, and fine and all i would really want

well, devil, it isn't, wasn't, won't be.

but.

i'm still going to listen to god and what he speaks over my life for he has turned this one,

this small life of power you will never know into one who is filled not with anger and hopelessness and division

but with love and prayerfulness and listening and showing up on just one side of the fence, not crouching in the middle like some town cat, prowling for the best piece of dinner, wavering at the slightest movement.

no.

i am steadfast in this: i will fail, i will trip. but i will not get up on that fence again, because it is in the crouching that i hide, it is in the hiding that i keep myself, it is in the keeping that i loose it all

because that kind of life is not lived at all, only broken and hoarded and wept over.

i will forgive myself for being so hard on myself. and i will love this side of the fence.

it is endless.

we are not

community

we are not in this alone

we cannot be.

it is not good.

when i sit and stare into the darkness for too long

by myself

it turns into all i can think about

all that surrounds me.

when i stretch out my hand

like those famous hands in that painting on the ceiling

i can feel you grip me tight

right

away with reassurance that you are there

with me

in the midst of everything.

pulling me out of

or you in, too

the darkness i have seen.

the willing heart of one ready to go into battle

for those they love

even when it is over something small.

that is truth, that is honor, that is confidence which

flows

about sharp and poignant like the surprise of a pomegranate.

friends.

we are not in this alone.