bookworm w(o/a)ndering

Stories.

You write them. You read them. You share them or keep them secret or change them (even in your head, if you can) because they don't fit what you wanted to think, what you wanted them to think / feel / know. Every day is stories: a new one every moment, criss-crossing, intersecting, getting mixed up and misremembered and forgotten. Each person, each grin (or ache), each morning scribbling itself up into the corner behind your eyes.

I wonder about your stories - you, all of you around me - because I can't find an end that fits. I can't make sense of me. Part of me wonders if the nonsense in me is also part of everything you are. I want to read you. Not the book you show everyone: the little notes you've hidden to remind you what's important. The page you folded down so you could find it again ... again. The stain from chocolate on your fingers. The question mark. Something in me wants the silence that comes only when I'm sitting, listening to you.

Life gets scribbled into margins ... and the best stories aren't the ones that get the big titles. They're the little things that sneak in when you're busy doing something else: walking the road you never thought would bring you Here.

And they change everything. And they're different for everyone.
Everyone's a book of stories. But Life gets written in the margins.

i don't know

"does the world change itself, or do we change our world"

A little bit of both, I think, and something more. We affect our world(s) in much the same way that every other person around us does. This globe is a crucible of souls and destinies. It's inevitable that some things you do would affect me, that some things I do would affect you, and that some things both of us do will interact. Whether at the end that nullifies or makes more intense the results of you and I separately "doing something" is irrelevant: we contribute. Everything does something; all roads lead somewhere.

The world changes, too. People come in and go out of it. Things happen - the effects of everybody doing something or nothing, natural events and supernatural ones - to change the course of history, the face of the planet, and the destiny of Mankind and the men and women that form it.

More than that, we change in the world. Every person's perspective is different - how, if I myself am a different person Today than I know I was last year or ten years ago, can my perception of what is not change to match? How much of the change I see "in the world" is really a change in how I look at what there is to see?

And where's the hand of God in all this?

belleza salvaje

There's something to be said for maintaining a chronicle of one's thoughts across the years: one can go back and see who was and who is. It's like taking time-progression photography to your soul: the changes of a year unfold in seconds. What's unchanged stands clear, almost strange contrasted with a hundred sudden outbreaks.

Unchanged: my love of people, outgoing shyness, need to be special, inward focus, dislike of being proven wrong, addiction to You, and desire to know (any and everything, but especially myself and what I OUGHT to do - what is BEST).

Changed: my self-doubt (specifically per appearance), posting of prophecies/spiritual victories, belief that doing right = safety, confidence that I am Right, expectation for instant returns, and much of my selfishness.

You have made me quieter - more gentle. You have made me pay attention to what they are saying - You've made me feel more deeply. You've taught me never to lose my temper, to apologize for what OTHERS think or feel about my actions (not just give them my reasons for acting). You've broken my self-righteousness - You've shattered me into understanding.

I am gracious, because of Your grace toward me. I am confident - two parts to this: everyone around me amazed, and Your statements that their amazement or lack of it means nothing. I am gentle, because You rebuilt the Me that shattered on a very different plan.

Once upon a time, I offered You all of me.
You were very clear that I would suffer. You asked if I would change.
I asked if You'd be with me. You said You'd never go.

Today, I see You in me ... and I see Me.
So much of my faith is so broken. I am so tired of holding on to promises You gave me that I have seen die and be brought back to life until each new miracle is just another reason to fear that the corpse that's now again my living child will die tomorrow in my arms. Yet, in spite of that feeling, I have consistently seen You involved in my life in solid, incontrovertible, and amazing ways. I have seen You present and active. I have watched each time time these dreams die, and I have seen You bring them back to life.

I am learning Your truth: You take the raw materials and put them in the furnace.
We melt to nothing; then and only then can You take what is and make what is to be.
Refined by fire, was was is nothing like what will be: You turn rough ore to silver.

Everything I am is changing / has changed. But that's okay.
You know, just like You knew, and You will never leave.
You will make me/break me/change me. At the end, everything You see in me will be.
And I'll be remade whole once I've been fully broken.

lazarus is dying

something in You breaks something in me
( the something in me that is screaming )
the Me that's in charge, the Me that knows best
the Me that forever keeps planning

something in You rips something from me
( pierced through and bloody and dying )
I fall down and fountain this rupture
and Your wounding bleeds out my dreams

but something in me realizes it's You
( perhaps just because You do tell me )
so broken and weary, lost and undone
I yield. I die at Your hand.

Your hand, which raises the dead.

( something like simplicity )

escondida
como la niñita que se esconde bajo sábanas
creyendo que eso se hace intocable

mientras sigo así
me siento segura
aunque solo puedo esconderme
hasta despertar

me quedo soñando

so many little dreams

You are the only cause I have for hope in anything, anymore.

But what a cause for hope You are! Never let me forget:

His mercies are new every morning
Great is Thy faithfulness!! ( Ezra 6 - 7 )

open wide Your doors

not understood, but LIVED

\\\ Before God could bring me to this place,
He has broken me a thousand times. I have wept.
I have groaned. I have travailed many a night until God broke me.

It seems to me that until God has mowed you down you can never have this longsuffering for others. We can never have the gifts of healing and the working of miracles in operation - only as we stand in the divine power that God gives us.

And we stand, believing God,

and having done all, we still stand ...

... believing. ( Smith Wigglesworth )

life like shattered glass

somewhere in the middle of a scream
He looked up and remembered Your promise
somewhere in the middle of a scream
He remembered Your writing His story

somewhere in shreds on a hill
God's Son remembered God's presence

"Eloi, Eloi - lama sabachtani?"

Psalm 22 : "For He has done it."

such a strange way { to save the world }

Sometimes, everything I am is wrapped up in one moment.

Usually, that moment is absolutely nonexistent. It's futuristic.
It's something for which I ache ... it is not here. Not now.

And I get so caught in hope and waiting. And I have hoped and dreamed one thing.
And nothing I can do can get me one inch closer.

I step back into silence.

Yet This I Call to Mind, and therefore I have Hope. ( Jeremiah )
And Hope does not disappoint / put us to shame. ( Romans 5 )

I call You to mind, and in my weariness I find Your strength.

de cuentos

"perhaps it was enough to know that there were others - seen and unseen - who loved her and believed she could do things that seemed
impossibly difficult."

is this one of those moments when the darkness recedes
and we take a bit of peace for our own?

it wasn't a certain thing
but he hoped for it

"the only thing constant and beloved"

grey-green oceans & your eyes

they say some people (far away)
nod No and shake their Yes
heads bobbing out a contradiction
a great barrier reef
outsiders all at sea

and maybe I am one of these
the folk who learned all strange
God knows that reading your expression
the waves crash down
can't breathe
and, sightless, grope to see

when signals broadcast miss their mark
and you nod (Yes) I shake
repression is communication
and honesty's a freak

the tide draws out
you (.) me (?)
I've always loved the ocean

turning four corners

I am not perfect
---------------------But
I can help you (only
-------------------- if you want me to)

Imperfectly, to match my heart
And I may fail (and fail again)
Not only where, in what you want
But in what I want most, too

Though marble smooth won't rough you up
Still marble hard can't soothe you
Though statues white stand straight and tall
They lack the arms to reach you

I'm young. I'm rough. I'm very small
But, God help me, I'll help you
Broken, and scared, imperfect - all
But, God help me, I'll love you
(only
------- if you want me to)

Please let me.

wonderment

Distance.

I don't like its being kept. I keep it.

Don't be angry. It's just, so many times, people have walked in and walked all over my heart. They come, they take, they go ... and I'm the miserable little nut who cares too much too soon and far too often. I've learned to just let go.

Boundaries. I set them where they affect not-you-just-me: if I can help, then let me, but my secrets are my own. I hide them, striving for you not to see. Why? Because, if you ask me to let down walls, I hate to guard. The strong can hurt - the weaker need their rest. If I am helping you, then you need me to be gentle. I only fight for others - not for me. Why hurt you when you came to me bleeding?

Foolishness. But, God help me, I would not hurt you.
Would you hurt me?

Distance.

Ma Fiye Aish (illa maak)

With this ring I thee wed. With my body I thee worship, and all that I possess I thee endow, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

Ancient and eternal, simple in state and rich in expectation, the words hit me like some sort of supernatural spotlight of gold and liquid light. "With my body I thee worship" - to worship, to ascribe ultimate worth to. What an incredible description: my every touch expresses my commitment, my adoration, to you whom He's commanded me to love - to you whom I have gladly bound myself forever.

It's written in Genesis that God looked and saw that it was "not good" for one to be alone, and for that reason He created a bond that was as much of a Trinity as He Himself is, was, and ever will be. He brought two individuals together, first forming one out of the other and then joining them to each other in covenant with Him. Their unity with each other and with Him symbolized His unity and the cohesive individuality of love that is the Trinity, out of which Life is, was, and will be birthed.

He made it somber and laughable. He made it sweet and bitter.
He made it quick and eternal. He made it all, forever.

"With my body I thee worship, and all that I possess I thee endow."

gifts & gaskets

not touching you's closer
than holding you tight
so my heart holds you

not chasing you's better
than phoning at night
so my God calls you

not fighting you's harder
than climbing up walls
and so sometimes I fall

----

No, I don't understand. I keep nearly convincing myself that I've entirely missed or corrupted Your plan, that this is beyond repair. Why is it that, every time I reach my end, I find You? You surround me -- I miss that when I'm buried inside me, fighting myself on my own.

You are my only hope. You're strong enough for that.
Put the right words in my mouth. Give me insight to pray and to love and to act.
Keep being clear. Keep being You. Comfort Your people!
Glorify Your Name

isla del sol

I could eat you
like caramel on Ice Cream
but seven times as gladly.

I can taste you
an odd sort of obsession
my head has lost its mind

David's 84th

Even the sparrow has found a home,
and the swallow a nest for herself,
where she may have her young—
a place near your altar,
O LORD Almighty, my King and my God.

I have said things and done things and been things, based on what I heard You say and what I believed You wanted, that cannot be changed and that have changed the course of my life. I am not who I was. I do not yet know what I will be. I know only what You said.

Like Abraham, I have left behind the place and position I held. I have plunged off the edge; I've held nothing back in my search for this thing You promised me. My God, I do not understand. I'm trying to live like I believe. Do not let me be destroyed. Give Your servant wisdom & fill her with Your love. Enable Your servant to understand Your will and to bless those with whom You have set her. My God, make me Joy.

You are my loving Father. Hold us tight.

ACCORDING TO YOUR LOVE

You say suicide is "a permanent solution to a temporary problem."

Fools. You don't understand: a permanent solution is exactly what's being sought. Your analysis of the outcome is quite correct. You don't understand the motivation behind the process. You haven't grasped the concept of "end[ing] it all." Faced with a sincere desire for a set course, your mind twists into knots.

"You have so much to live for!"
Haven't you read Paul?

"What about the people you leave behind?"
They'll catch up soon enough.

"You don't know what might have happened."
True, but I know what will.

"Don't you trust God to work it out?"
That's the rub, isn't it? If I claim I trust Him, then shouldn't I wait patiently to see His will? Yes. I do believe He's working it out. I know He'll make it right. I just don't know what "right" is. I don't know what I'm to do.
I'm worn out. I feel isolated, dirty, used, and discarded.
I'm tired.

Oh, please, want ME. My God, my God, I'm tired.

light-lover in a storm

I live like I play soccer
full-tilt, all out, I grin
easily forgetting that
pain hurts, we’re not all God

For myself I care nothing
but I don’t play alone
and if you’re hurt my world explodes
(Life quick-bright-gone, like fireworks)

I play by running harder
falling more and rising faster
caring more about performance
than “harm's way’s” locale

Next day’s sore and limping
Next week’s bruise’d still
but if I pleased you, all is well
and if I’ve failed then

that I’m hurt
doesn’t make the list of my concerns

"You foolish Galatians!! I would like to learn just one thing from you: Did you receive ... by observing the law, or by believing what you heard? Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort? Have you suffered so much for nothing — if it really was for nothing?"

No. I know that all I am is not enough; is nothing. Anything that's happened or been given me has been because of Your favor and guidance and direction. Anything that will happen will have to be from Your hand. You work it out, Father. You do it; give You glory.

beep ... and glory

My Father, hold tight!

REMEMBER ME ACCORDING TO YOUR LOVE.

Pull me through this and into what You want. Direct clearly. You called me before my birth, knowing all my choices and how many different times and ways I'd be destroyed. You called me. You will bring me through. You will glorify Your Name.

how can I know you
better than any
without understanding?

how can I give you
what I never showed
and hold so much back?

and how can you be
so deep in my heart
and still be distant?

how can I know you
better than any
and still be so confused?

as yet undetermined

the pleasure of response(ability)
through oceans, under waves
in sunlight or without it

'tis education of a sort
that had not e'en been dream't
but it is given freely

erstwhile unknown presence
shifting; make me moan
uncertain skin a fiery. blue.

juxtaposition. What's my life?
please - now who's over-thinking?
and what, praytell, 's your name?

scribbles based on flying

climb a tree to sing on branches
lie quiet on the floor
invisible, Your eyes, Your presence
but tangible; You're here

I sense Your love, Your power rocks me
and in You is all peace
lost in the finding
found in the waiting

confused, but held secure

ragamuffin

Open your arms to me, again. I'm tired. I'm tired.

I miss you. I'm lost. I can't find a home. Please, call me back. Teach me to please you. Be patient with me. I'm tired. I'm tired. I'm sick of not being Joy. I'm sick of not pleasing you. Take it slow with me, please. Want me, please. Can we try this?

"Relax." "Enjoy." I want to be honest. I want to be open. I want to please you. I want you to have me. I want you to own me, to claim me. I want you.

I can't give up this fight. Damn the whole situation - not "idle swearing", as Lewis would have said - I won't give this up. If I give up, I'll believe You lied to me.
Don't let go. Be my Light! Open this door, and do not let it be shut.
Open this door, and send me through it.

a midnight ramble

"If we are faithless, yet He remains faithful." ( 2 Timothy )

'Let it go,' she tells me, 'You cannot hold this as close as you are. It is tearing you apart.' What she says is true, and she doesn't know the half of it. You - my heart, the people I love - I have hidden as much of this as I can from you. Not the facts (those you know), just most of my day-to-day. Why should I hurt you when I don't have to?

For a year now, I've been praying in tears. For a year now, this has been my heart. For a year now, every time I have 'let it go', God has thrust it back into my life and told me to trust Him with it and wait. For a year now, nothing has visibly changed. For a year now, everything inside me has been being ripped to shreds.

I'm the one that prayed for 2 years for a lost dog to come back. I'm the one who prayed for straight teeth because I was afraid of braces. I'm that little nut who wrote You a Christmas letter, asking for a horse I didn't have to pay for, didn't have to feed, didn't have to have on our land, but could ride whenever I wanted. You're the one who granted every one of those prayers. You put desires in my heart so You can have the joy of granting them.

You've never lied to me, Father. You keep pushing me back into this. You know what I believe You've said. I asked You to tell me if I misunderstood. No one has heard stop. Instead, I've been told to move forward, to pursue this as I understand it (but to walk in the Scriptures). I don't understand.

I'm tired. I'm tired, Father. Life has no color, anymore. I can be Joy. I can worship. I am still the bouncy, little being that "everyone knows...[and] loves." When I'm with people, I am the one who comforts and makes jokes. I'm fully alive. It's not an act. I really care, and comforting people has never been based on my strength or wisdom, anyway. When I speak to those who are hurting, I reach out and grab hold of You. It doesn't matter if I have nothing to give. You are always full to overflowing.

When I am alone, I am still alive. I'm just in tears. I weep before Your throne. I fall on my knees and pour my heart out in words or (when they fail me) just in cries or screams or moans or tears. For a year, now, I've been soul-screaming. At first, it was just now and then, on the especially difficult days. Lately, it's gotten more common. This past week, it's been almost every day.

You say not to walk in the "light of [my] own torch." You tell me not to trust the gift, but rather the Giver. I know I could have this in my own strength, just not the way I want it. With one phone call, I could (temporarily) fix everything. I'd just destroy myself and everything I love in the process. I gave it up to You. Then You pushed it back at me. You put me back into this. I'm glad You pushed me into this again, because You've said You're going to redeem it and give it to me in You. I'm just falling apart because I don't see any change. I feel like Elijah: told to pray for rain, sending a servant up a hill seven times. The sixth time, there was still no rain. I'm asking for what You said You'd give! Why is there nothing? Why does everything seem to be moving backwards? But the seventh time, there was a cloud. The seventh time, the rains came flooding in.

I'm angry. I'm hurt. Sometimes, I feel betrayed. Usually, I just want to bury my face in You and weep it all out. I don't understand! I'm hurting! This died; I buried it! Now I can't bury it. I don't want to let it go again. You gave it back to me, alive and whole! You gave it back to me, and I tried so hard to follow what You said! Now, I look at this thing I love and it seems dead again. NO! NO! NO! You gave this to me, living! You didn't tell me, "Stop." You told me, "Trust Me to work it out; Relax; Enjoy!" You don't lie. I'm holding what feels like a corpse, but I can't let go again, Father. It's my life, it's my heart that has stopped living. I let this go once and You gave it back. Do not play with me. You're not like that. Letting this go again would make me feel that You had lied to me. I don't understand! I'm tired! I hurt all through me! Remember what I am. Don't forget me.

Hold tight. Hold tight.
"We do not make requests of You because we are righteous, but because of Your great mercy." ( Daniel )

Desidirata

What now, Father? I keep thinking I've done everything ... then remembering that You're doing everything ... then wondering how much longer, how much more, how much ... well, You know. You do know. Make what I'm trying to be (obedient, free, not overthinking or overstressed, beloved) into what I am. Better still, make me whatever You want.

You told me "relax". I am earnestly trying. You told me "enjoy". That's not a difficult thing. I asked You to unmask me. Everyone knows; no one hears "stop". Instead, my father has dreams, my friends get prophecies, and my church is entranced and supportive. You said "Walk in the understanding you have; remember the Scriptures." I've been walking and praying and walking and crying and walking and spinning - I'm trying.

This is utterly beyond me - You know that! This is only possible if You do it. That's the way You work! I'm tired of thinking I've come to the end of the journey, of cresting the hill and seeing another before me. I can walk - Your strength is limitless - but, Father, this is calling and pulling at my heart. Make straight Your path and teach me to walk in it.

What next, Lord? Give me favor, here. Hold tight!

Yet this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for Him." The Lord is good to those whose hope is in Him, to the one who seeks Him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.

( Lamentations 3:21-26 )

Draw Me Close

"If the Spirit of God has stirred you, make as many of your decisions as possible irrevocable, and let the consequences be what they will. We cannot stay forever on the "mount of transfiguration," basking in the light of our mountaintop experience. But we must obey the light we received there; we must put it into action. When God gives us a vision, we must transact business with Him at that point, no matter what the cost." ( Oswald Chambers )

Irrevocable
• Cannot be changed in any way by anyone
• Incapable of being retracted, revoked or taken back
• Unalterable; not to be changed or annulled

My father has been having dreams. I've been given prophecies right and left for three years now. I've asked God to be loud, and He's done that emphatically. Now, I've asked Him to be clear, and what He's said is, "Get your house in order; do as I say step by step; I will take care of the rest."

Ok, Father. Hold tight.

tri-sided variables

I wonder what You see, my Father. What are You making that the smile on Your face is so bright, so constant? Your faithfulness is famous, Your extravagance notorious; Your love is marvelously documented from now backwards through to Creation. You are "able to do infinitely more than [I] can ask or even imagine." I can't imagine. I try. You laugh.

This heart of mine is torn, but still I feel Your peace, because I can see Your grin. I know You are doing this; the result of going through this time, the joy You are giving, the gift You are making and sending my way even now, will be amazing. I can't see how all these things mesh - they are separate, opposites, in my eyes. This is my heart.

Be loud for me. Keep me in You. Hold tight.
What do You see? Make it. "Amen".

on bread that falls from heaven

Stop writing. Just pray.
He'll work it out.

There aren't words. This runs too deep.
You had words; they've been deleted.
Things don't happen accidentally when He's running life.

Father, I'm on a limb. I'm happy. I feel Your peace.
I'm uncertain. You're solid. Keep me. Hold tight.