Pieces

I discover the story in pieces,
scattered through moments in time,
cut on the edges of meaning,
left droplets of red as a sign.
Oh, hear the touch of tomorrow
in the tales now told of today
while the past of eternity, present,
means more than we thought it could say.
Tangible, sharp beyond theory,
I found such lost places inside,
but the filling has been from the ages
more than vast, this adhesive design.

---

Can the love of God be overturned? Are we strong enough in our evil to overcome the goodness of God? Who is greater, him or us?

 ... Oh, the questions she'd think up if only she tried....

An irresistible God?... What if it is true? What if he is so irresistible that knowing him transforms heart and life by the knowing?

Then the question becomes, how can I know him better?

Assumptions Defined

oh for the beginning of unaltered time
the start of the ending that nothing would find
and breaking the heartache and living the words
exploded life's nothing and all things were heard
oh fascinate dreaming and change-altered ways
to paths beyond seeking most ancient hid days
and built on the matter what never had been
advancing the sending of newly made friends
behold all the mastery of unfounded roots
where deeply soiled networks grow freshly green shoots
to leaf out the sky-ways and rock-flinging cliffs
while sending the word out by passages missed
 oh meaningless drivel unfounded from yore
therefore in the future it might be made more

---

This was an exercise in typing random thoughts to reach 100 words at Written? Kitten!... a site that rewards you with a fresh kitten photo for every hundred words typed. (If there were a way to easily save the words, I'd use it to motivate my youngest daughter to write longer stories. She's susceptible to kittens.)

I found some interesting thoughts in here, after accomplishing the kitten. I read it over without expecting sense, but it reminded me of listening to scientists trying to rationalize their encounters with complexity, going to the extend of explaining their discoveries by the intervention of aliens, or other such random theories.

I'm curious if you find sense in the lines, also. If so, please share the story. I wonder if abstract poetry can work the same effect as abstract art, drawing definition and meaning from the experiences of the viewer. 

Thanks for Nothing

Thanks for this nothing, Lord.
Having less
makes me more aware
of how I've been blessed.
Thanks for this nothing, Lord.
I finally see
how I wrapped my whole world
around comfort for me.
Thanks for this nothing, Lord.
You've taken your place
on so many shelves
I had filled with such waste.
Thanks for this nothing, Lord.
I've learned to believe
that you are the one
who provides all I need.
Thanks for this nothing, Lord.
I'm so glad to say
it is worth every loss
I've met on the way.
Thanks for being the Lord
of all Love.
Without you, everything
would not be enough.

---

I can honestly say I'm more complete and supported and loved and thankful today than I have ever been before. And I'm pretty sure that my life has never been quite so surrounded with difficulty, either.

My husband has been without a job (in spite of great efforts to find one) for going on two years now. We're losing our house. Our bills haven't been paid and bankruptcy shadows the horizon. Yet I am content. It is beautiful to see God's hand, still providing our daily needs. We have food, friends, family, shelter. And there is so much blessing in letting go of those belongings I once considered essential.

I've been sick for years, strained to the breaking point by simple household tasks, collapsing exhausted after a few hours of social interaction and listening at church, worn to a thread that snapped with impatience and frustration all too often ... overwhelmed by a physical incapacity to accomplish anything (or so it seemed).

But God was there, too. And he taught me to trust him for the strength for every moment, to listen to his voice and leading in following the patterns of each day. It turns out he is not fanciful when he says his strength is displayed perfectly in my weaknesses. All I know I cannot do ... I have done, and every day becomes more of the impossible possibility. What miracles there have been!

I would never have begun working on my art if I had felt capable of more mobile activities. This journey continues, curving around corners in time beyond which I cannot see. What will God do with this gift he has given? How may I share the beautiful bounty which I have scarcely begun to tap?

What miracles stretch ahead in this life?... they will continue to arise beyond my ability to imagine, I think. How could I ask for the unimaginable? Trust becomes the foundation of possibility. He designed good works for me to walk within the presence of Christ, back at the beginning of the universe, and God is always good.

There are other areas of difficulty that have settled long into my life, too. Details I do not feel free to share, here. Relationships broken, seemingly beyond repair ... and the finger prints of God on my heart as he teaches me to love without demanding a return on investment. It is hard to learn the forgiveness of the abundantly forgiven, but the reward overflows as faith turns away from self-capacity. No human can take more from me than God has already fully replaced. Learning to live as if I believe this is, as always, a gift from God ... his strength to do what is beyond my capacity.

And so ... with a daily lessening of all this world would be thankful for ... I repeat.

This is the best time of my life. I have more than ever before! More blessings to give. More of God's love to share. Abundantly more gifts than I could ask or imagine. And all while I watch the things of this world disintegrate in my hands.

Because God is more substantial.

Reflecting Darkly

Through the night window she watches the light
where shadows lurk darker within layered sight.
Illumination reveals her insubstantial form,
screened from the solid, pierced, streetlight adorned.
She knows her existence is real, somewhere,
secure in that home, living, breathing, and fair.
Oh the wonder of hearing, "It is good! It is done.
Well done, faithful servant, my daughter! Come."
She trusts from the shadows that one day she'll stand
in the remade reality,... finally understand.
Until then, she tips her face to the glow
reflecting the light as much as she knows,
confident the Radiant One will display
the light of his presence, somehow, in her face.


---

I took this photo last night to remember what it felt like in the moment I realized--That is me, the way I am now.--I'm the reflection, darkened and distorted, of the me that is true and real and eternal in the presence of Christ. One day I'll step from the glass and know completion. But even now, I can tip my face to the Light and know He is real, and real in more ways than I can experience just yet.

Moments

We are friends who spin time like lace
woven through with laughter.
Gems of tears upon the collar, dear?

Did you see the cloud like a ship?
I begged the sunset, wait, with a prayer.
God whispered his love through your smile.

I thought you would treasure....
And then it was tomorrow
and we sighed as the weather changed.

Windy Wings

Imagine she knew
the path beyond horizons,
far away from home.











This drawing grew from accident and determination. I kept working till it  became lovely to me, but it is a mystery of lines and color. I titled it "Windy Wings" because that is the feeling of it.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams - Artwork

Boulevard of Broken Dreams, sung by Green Day, became a key song of my recovery from deep depression several years ago. I played the song on repeat for hours at a time,  and each time the lyrics clarified the path I'd been walking, highlighting the imagery of existing in that place.

I knew the shadow, the shallow heart, the silence, the broken dreams.... I wanted to capture that vision on paper. Here is a scan of the artwork before completion.

I summarized the lyrics below,... just the basic poem of the song so you get the idea if you haven't listened recently. Billie Joe Armstrong must know how it feels to be depressed in the dark.

I walk a lonely road, the only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes but it's only me, I walk alone
I walk this empty street on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
When the city sleeps and I'm the only one and I walk alone 

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me 'til then I walk alone 

I'm walking down the line that divides me somewhere in my mind
On the border line of the edge and where I walk alone
Read between the lines what's fucked up when everything's alright
Check my vital signs to know I'm still alive and I walk alone 

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me 'til then I walk alone

But I also heard a second song along the way, an echo in the spaces, a chorus in the bridge. It reminded me that God knows loneliness and loss, and that when all I see is my shadow, it means the light is behind me.

I'm working on the lyrics and tune for the response, woven through the instruments and voices of Green Day as they present their story, but that portion of this project isn't ready to be heard.

Here is Boulevard of Broken Dreams, completed, with a second drawing illustrating the beauty of Hope.

Goals

My goal for every tomorrow

is to have loved well yesterday.

Beautiful Things

I'm learning to use Linux on a healed computer, thanks to my brother's patient efforts. (Yay!)

In celebration, here are some photos of pretty mushrooms from my backyard.

Expected Gifts Gratefully Received

"Don't expect a gift," I tell my children, "and then it will be a greater pleasure for others to give them, and you have the chance to be surprised by the unexpected." I know expectations often blind me to what I have been given ... am being given. Those self-focused expectations founded on our wants can prevent us from appreciating the person we use to frame those desires, and any other gifts we may receive.

A bounty of one thousand gifts 

is easily ignored 

when searching for one pleasure 

or simply wanting more.

But, when a gift is freely promised by someone reliable, it helps us appreciate it when we pay attention and live in expectation. And when the promise is from God,... not expecting those gifts can blind us to them. With God, there are surprises around every corner. It isn't a matter of if we receive gifts from him, it's a matter of whether we notice those gifts again, and again, and again.

Gifts Like the Sunset 

I've heard it said, 

"So what? 

There's a daily sunset," 

with a shake of the head. 

Wow! 

We get to see sunsets every day? 

God's masterpiece collection! 

(available one day only, 

each moment in series) 

A universe filled. His gallery. 

Do you browse and stare?
How many more gifts
can he possibly share? 

---

This post was initiated by the Faith Barista's prompt, "What gifts has God given you recently?" To add your thoughts or read the input of others who participated, go here.

Note:  I totally borrowed the title of Ann Voskamp's book, One Thousand Gifts for a line in the first poem, above. I've found the title, reviews, and glimpses of the content inspirational already. Some day I'll have the chance to read the whole story. You might as well beat me to it (and then lend me your copy). I've been reading Ann's blog for a while now, and I can assure you her book is worth reading based on her God-given insight, reputation, and writing voice.

Broken for Purpose

Sometimes life feels like the remains of a dead fire, charred and blackened. 

Remembering Christ is like placing color against that background.

He brings beauty with him, memories of blessings and other times when destruction became the catalyst for new growth and beauty.... Like my rose bush that bloomed even more after it was crushed by a fallen tree this summer. It's still blooming as fall closes in, buds expanding on the branches.

Sometimes we fail to notice and appreciate Christ's presence when all is well and we think we have a handle on life. It is at the end of ourselves that we rely on him, and there find true beauty and strength.

High Calling Focus challenged us to share images that illustrate the hurt in our lives. 

I feel like a charred pit after the fire, nothing worth looking at, no more flames or warmth. 

But Christ is alive with all I lack ... and he promises to contrast against my natural state. 

There he is: 

Light. Energy. Life. Beauty. Color.