Long Way Home

 For the past few weeks, I felt that I was doing pretty well. Life was picking up, I was nannying, hanging out with friends and working with the kids at Grace church on Sundays, which has been such a blessing and a blast. And there’s a part of me that always wants that, to be in a comfortable time, nothing going wrong, just a nice, happy season. However, I’m learning that Life doesn’t respect the fact that I like things to be cut into seasons and Life certainly didn’t get the memo that now is a happy season.

 A friend of mine from Grace church was in an awful car accident and initially, it looked grim. And it was as if, in that moment, my heart was convinced that God had fallen off the throne and didn’t have a clue as to what was going on. No matter what I said to myself, reminding myself of who God is and all the usual things, good, in control ect, my heart wasn’t taking any of that.

 I haven’t really been super angry for ages but this time it was as if an ocean was unleashed, taking anything it crashed into with it. Something would happen, I’d instantly see the worst case scenario and be convinced it would end of being reality. Then my health insurance had an issue and I had to pay $1,500 for a month’s supply of my daily injection, something I need. Suddenly, money became a huge worry until I worried myself into a nasty cold.

 You may have heard this before, that if you’re angry with God and with life, that’s okay and it’s better to just have it out with Him. It took me a few days but I finally had the angry asking, accusing and finally the tired emptiness, coming back to the fact that I’ve got nothing. I love people and in doing that, I want to fix their bad situations. I’d grown too self-dependent to pray for situations and then felt utterly helpless when I (inevitably) couldn’t change anything.

 There wasn’t the instant “oh wow I feel great again” but after The Discussion, I ended up giving things to God and then leaving them. I still freaked out over money but God brought up three different companies who all want to sort out the issue for me. I focused on Today and God (probably chuckling at me) did His thing and has been taking care of things.

 There are a lot of things wrong with our world, our lives and a lot of things happen out of the blue, punching you in the gut. It’s hard not to focus on those things. But as soon as you do, you don’t see God the way He really is. He’s not the puppeteer who makes bad things happen because it makes a better story that way. But as He lets things happen, He is there, hand ready for you to take it and trust Him.

 God’s heart is one of abundant love, this epic downpour that soaks you to the bone. God’s heart is a father and little daughter dancing in a field on a beautiful summer day. God’s heart is the hug that doesn’t let go as you wait in the hospital, dreading the impending news.

 Life is hard. The most out of the blue garbage will be dumped on you. The thing is, (spoiler) God wins. We’re on our way Home, where the fight is over and tears only fall out of joy. It might seem like it’s taking forever. But we’ll get there. It’s just the long way home.    

Sea Dream

 You were my sweet love, brave when facing the waves of fractured dreams. Across the fields of wild grass, we met once under heavy beating sunrays and you fed me sweet things. Our summer promised to last for years, your tangled locks so sleek, your nose kissed by the sun. How could night and day meet in a third time, thriving at dusk?

 Yet you became my destruction, the collapse of my world. Sand swallowed all trails leading to you and they caged me once again, fearing for my senses. Often I thought them lost as well, until I took wing to find you.

 I thought I found you by the edge of the lake, your shimmering arm around me but instead I found myself transported to gentle, happy currents, the sweet song of merfolk drifting by me without haste. Silent echoes emanate to greet others as I deftly dive deeper to darker comfort. The sun is only a dim, fragmented star in a reflected world. The matter of breath does not concern me, for few are the cares that can pass through the glass divide. With a playful nudge at my side, the friendly whiskered fish leads me to my sunken treasure. His skin is as precious pearl, eyes unseeing, chains gripping his hands and feet.

 That beloved face, cold in the warm currents, one I hold gently now. Already, seaweed takes the place of my hair, my legs twining into one scaly member. As I am stripped away, my lips close over his and I give breath to his lungs. My grasp fails as he rises to the surface while I gently greet the sands.

 My eyes have already changed so that light reveals more and I watch contentedly as he is pulled out of the water. Then I examine the webbing between my green fingers, the light barely shining through. Then the inky cloud drifts closer until I am consumed and I smile a human smile one last time.

Not Now

Not now, not ever is a good time

To soar up in the sky with you

But I’m gonna be here for you

And you will rise on eagle’s wings.

So where do we go from here?

You set out on your great adventure

And days like this, it rains too much,

Washing away all the love I’ve found.

Who But You

 The heat of evening lingers as each step raises dusty remnants of hopes once clung to. I walk as I have always walked, farther from home to unknown dreams you once placed in my now dull heart. Seventy five years of following shadows to rest in false paradise until the anchor was suddenly taken and you said to go and I trusted you. Beneath a starry sky as vast as an ocean, you promised and I waited for the impossible in a land of possibility.

 Time brings an ever changing tide of feelings, belief and disbelief becoming interchangeable. I question with anger and frustration, bitter laughter becoming my defense as my arms remain empty in a land of plenty. Trust is an empty collection of lines and whispers but still I wait, the slightest ‘could be’ keeping me tethered through the long years of tears.

 Still, am I a fool to believe and trust in what might only be a lie? I can not imagine how you might turn back time, turn desert lands into an oasis that will become a haven to a million dreams. Could you possibly make a mistake? I had my chance, back before grey washed away my beauty and here I sit in the sand, alone.

 But you aren’t of stone and wood, made by false conceptions and prideful hearts. You hear the sorrow of lost desires and you speak of unheard of things, not simple wishes fulfilled. Could there still be truth behind unseen veils of ‘too late’? Against what I have seen and known, I must let go once more and wait under the starry skies, ears straining to hear the cry of a miraculous promise.

Grace

The darkness was dotted with many stars,

Some small, some large but all shining,

Reaching slivers of connection and unique voice.

We, the stars, grew to orbit the darkness,

Spheres overlapping, light joining for a time

Before the tide moved us forward again.

You shone with kindness, a compliment

And a gentle smile made of contentment,

A fire to warm and inspire sparks of motion.

For brief moments, we impacted each other

But a flicker, a gust of cold wind

And you were Not, lost to this dimension.

But whispers came to my wandering light

Of a place named Day, a light called Sun

That created our cores and allotted our time.

You are safe in the sun’s sweet beams

And I orbit on, forgetting as I sleep

But I smile in the dark; you are home.

Alterity

Brokenhearted from what you’ve lost;

What can make you whole again?

You scream till your voice is gone,

Like a butterfly out of captivity

Knowing anything can happen any moment,

Flying to white gates of memory.

Should I shatter your frozen death

At the place where mercy reigns?

You’ve seen it all and it’s so cold

But you’re dreaming of those days,

A beautiful heart, a work of art. 

Litera

Cast through a wicked whirling portal, flailing

Among stardust and murky acid ink spots,

Not daring to breathe lest I shatter

In this swift loss of vibrant lands.

Now place a new, traversing dusty roads

With a red book of lover letters in hand

To seek echoes of your wandering soul

Amidst lies of love and dark dreams.

Memory may be trapped in old stone

And your cruel prison has no solid locks

But your words write a narrow way
And I hope they’ll lead us back home.