Did ya miss me?

     Hello Reader. It's been awhile since I've written here.
     Life has changed so much since my last post, and especially in this past year.
     I am newly married (a story I plan to share with you soon) and growing a miracle inside myself (having a baby ya'll!), currently dealing with the whole Coronavirus pandemic, and the election nastiness (I'll say nothing more on that!), and the protests, and man this year is a mixed bag for me.
     But to focus on the good - at least in my little space, my little piece of life.
     When I turn my eyes away from everything going on outside (yes, I am one of the lucky ones who can afford staying at home during this pandemic), and look in the mirror, I see someone who has so much to be thankful for and happy about.
     I am safe. I am healthy. I have a great place with fantastic rent. I have no want for comforts. I can eat whatever I want (for the most part) whenever I want. I have a lot of things to occupy my time. I've got it good. This isn't me trying to brag, this is me being so grateful for what I have.
     My husband (eeee! That word!) is a fantastic, kind, caring, funny man who kisses me lovingly before heading to work every day (and yes he's staying safe too). He takes me and my craziness in stride, accepts me for who I am and loves me in spite of me. We look forward to finally meeting our kid and grow our family.
     It's when I look at Facebook and the world outside that I get overwhelmed, upset and depressed. But within the walls of my home, life is good. Sure, I don't have the social life I had before. Yes, my husband and I don't go out dancing currently (believe you me we will again someday!). Yeah, it's hard to stay in contact with friends (mostly that's on me - I'm terrible with long distance). But I have hope that one day I can step out and go have brunch or dessert with friends (old and new!), talking about the days before and spouses and kids and what lies ahead.
     I'll say that though being an adult is hard and rough and frustrating, there is much to enjoy. I've wanted to be a wife and a mother for a long time, but I didn't think it would be the way it is. But I am so glad the way things have turned out. It may not be how anyone planned it, and I am certainly not the woman my parents wanted me to be, but I could not be happier.
     I think this is where I'll leave it for now, but I'm glad to have written again. Hope to put more down in the near future so I can see you again soon!

A Prayer in a Restless Time

August 23

Shifting.
Restless.
A depression that brings me to my knees.
O God, I cannot see.
O Lord, I have no peace.
I need you here, my Love of Loves.
Humanity has left me empty,
life leaving me wanting more.
My job is unfulfilling,
my home undesirable.
An ache within goes unanswered,
the stirring unheeded.
Lord are you telling me to move?
Then show me the door you want me to go through.
My pacing only distresses me further.
I need a guiding hand,
so here I am.
Lord hear me from my knees.
Hear the voice that cannot utter.
Holy Spirit, rise in me once more.
Move me.
Set me free to dance in your joy.
Remind me the words etched in my skin,
the scar that declares
"for I know who holds tomorrow."
My life, my journey,
is in your hands.
Where do you want me to be?







Note:
This prayer poem was written about two weeks before I lost my job. I knew things were coming to a close but I didn't know when. 
But I act in faith. God is faithful to provide. I am secure in whatever he has in store for me.

Intercessor

There's an echo in my soul that won't let go
     a sad, sad song that takes its toll.
Would it be that for my heart to die that I'd find peace
     or would chaos reign and my joy to cease?
If only I could see my days
     and tread the path of the righteous way.
But my soul grows still, it will not stir
     my desire fails, I move no more.

     My dreams are more real to me than my waking life. I long for sleep if only to escape the pain. It feels to me that in the land of Nod I live, while reality is the ugly dream without an end. I neglect my body, my friends, worsening the guilt of my chosen isolation; knowing I could turn it around yet having no motivation to do so. I long for companionship, yet despise it. I yearn to see the world yet find the worlds of my mind easier to travel.
     I find temporary solace in the arms of another, momentary happiness in the little things of life, and I still laugh hard and laugh often. I have changed, grown, yet am the same. Even when I feel so close to someone or surrounded by people I trust and care for, I still feel alone. Even as I spread little forget-me-nots around, I don't wish to be remembered. I want to be kept. I only find peace with my God, and yet still pursue the Divine in humanity. Deep calling unto deep, I reach out for the spark of God within the souls around me.
     But even then, the pain returns. For lying below the light are shadows. Humanity is the ultimate paradox: designed with the intention to walk beside the Divine, and yet more demonic than demons. We live with choice, every moment of every day. Shadow or Light, good or ill. Shrouding maliciousness, jealousy, and agendas with good actions; using cruelty and cutting remarks to mask insecurities and fears. We lash out in defense like a cornered animal.
     I was told that those who would hurt me are not truly my friends. "They don't deserve you. Leave 'em." But I do not deserve humanity. Humans are still kind - they still care. Many work in fields to make their little corner of the world a better place, reaching out with hands that want to heal, to help, to support, to serve. The spark of God still remains. If only I lived on a world of absolutes, of the binary of good and evil, it'd be easier. Yes, there are some absolutes, but even in a black and white photograph, there is always so much grey. And I see in colors.

There's a wind passing through the trees
      there's a swelling in the underseas.
Whispers over and behind and around
     sighing for the lost and the found.
If only I could find someone
     who could translate the lullaby's of the One.
But my soul does stir, I know it well
     the voice of the Master commands me "Tell!"

     Yes, thanks to God, I can see what others cannot. The spectrum is broad indeed. And my filter is a reverse prism, condensing everything I see into one beam that comes from the Above. But I am flawed. Sometimes I cannot reconcile what I take in. Sometimes I cannot bring the conversation back round to my God. Sometimes - all too often really - I am at a loss. I am left overwhelmed by the information I try to absorb. The pain becomes unbearable.
     There are times where I, in my human state, feel like my gifts are more of a curse than a blessing. Yes, I see light and shadow, negative and positive equally. And sometimes I focus too much on one over the other. And that's what hurts. Temptations, misinformation, misdirection, lies, and my own personal wants come into play, corrupting the stream. I walk on the earth, among the peoples, among individuals and groups. And I feel them. I see them. X-ray vision of the heart.
     And I cannot understand what I see. Pain and joy...lies and trust...love and apathy...masks and truth...respect and racism...complexes and minimalism...creation and sabotage...pride and hope...generation after generation living out humanity in their own way. If only I could be insane and take pills to make it all fade. But as if I'm a walking antenna, I get struck by lightning. Over and over again. My sight is opened and my soul rendered to shreds.
     Someday, maybe someday, I'll be done with the road of Solomon of Ecclesiastes and finally stop my chorus of "Everything is meaningless, empty!" Or perhaps the path I tread is the path of the Psalmists, pouring out everything until I am dry and still wrung for every last drop of joy and grief. But that will never cease. For even when the music's gone, my voice can still be heard. For my voice is not mine.
     My story is your story. My song is your song. Your life, your breath, God knows. God sees. And when I am allowed by God to see, I too see. I may only see a part of the picture, but I see you. My prayers are for you. I am an intern, apprentice of the great Intercessor. I serve and study under the one who speaks words beyond language and utterance, speaking and sighing and singing to God. Do I understand what is I see or feel? Almost never. Once in a while I do understand, but for the most part, I simply try to obey.