...

Float:

body adrift on the vast, unending sea.

Feel the wave motion

raise and lower,

lift and oh, so gently drop.

Two spheres

merge

and I, half in one world,

half in the other,

a bobbing island caught

and enraptured.

I saw the blue:

blue above, blue below,

deep, dark, the ink I'm drowning in.

Not drowning. Floating.

But lost and solitary,

alone.

Life Together

A joyful heart makes a cheerful face,
But when the heart is sad, the spirit is broken.
//Proverbs 15:13//

While I realize how blessed I am to have the job that I have, occasionally that point is driven home more fully than at other times. Like last night. I was near tears on the way to work just thinking about IMPACT, probably because I owned up to myself that I was in denial but would eventually have to move back into my room and unpack all of my boxes whether I want to or not. Plus, I tried to call Leah and had talked to Charles the night before, and somehow that plus the sudden plentiful nature of sleep the night before left me down.

I walked in to see the back jammed with people, a motley group composed of Debbie, Hadassah, Lia, Carl, Mandy, Bri, and Abi. The first three were rejoicing in the night crew and already feeling silly, but this one was absolutely not up for silliness. Later, when I was stocking food in the basement Hadassah and Lia jumped me and prayed for me. Hadassah also identified one of my problems: I really don't have a spiritual family here in Lancaster, and while I'm trying to find ways to pour out, I'm really lacking in people who pour into me. I told her that I wanted to get connected to a small group, but that I hadn't had a chance to pursue that yet. Apparently Corey and Carrie have one every Thursday evening at their apartment, so if I don't work that shift next week, I'll probably try to go.

"Do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength!"
//Nehemiah 8:10b//

Laments and Love Songs

 This day before dawn I ascended a hill and look'd at the crowded heaven,
    And I said to my spirit When we become the enfolders of those orbs, and the
              pleasure and knowledge of every thing in them, shall we be fill'd and
              satisfied then?
    And my spirit said No, we but level that lift to pass and continue beyond.
//Walt Whitman, from "Song of Myself"//


As I was washing dishes this evening (which, by the way, is a wonderful means of both thinking and doing something useful at the same time), I was thinking about the lessons that I've learned this past year. Already, several of them are coming back to haunt me, some in the applications and growth that I am showing at work and at home, but some in the way that I am continuing to learn them. 


Two illustrations came to mind: one involved video games and one was from Walt Whitman. Yes, I can do diversity, thank you. Basically, the greatest lesson I have learned this year is about surrender and the process that is involved in that. As Mr. Cote once said, so much of life is ultimately following paths that keep leading us back to the altar of surrender. I think I've got it, I think I know all there is to know, and then I discover that for a while I've been wandering in a loop off to the left and suddenly the altar is right in front of me again. Maybe with time it becomes a little easier. I don't know. But I do feel a little bit like I've been playing Mario (old school, on a Nintendo 64, thank you) and finally I fight and defeat the monster in the castle at the end of the first map. A celebration ensues as I bask in the warm light of victory, then I glance at the tv screen and... what? Another map? And yes, in case you were wondering, it does get harder at the next level. But I guess I did tell God last week that I recognized the greater challenge presented and rejoiced in the growth that it suggested that He would give this to me. Besides, in my weakness, He shines stronger. And it does keep things interesting...


As for the ending of IMPACT and the beginning of something else, well, these have been some hard days. I don't quite know what to make of them, but I am reminded of where my hope lies. And Charles was right: it's not okay. Separation, especially separation from such a powerful occurrence of kingdom living, is a part of the fall. In some intrinsically awful way, it is a living death to be thus rent asunder from ones loved. As Wolterstorff says, all laments are love songs. And our eager hope is for the day when we will again love without lamentation.


Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
//Edna St. Vincent Millay, from "Dirge Without Music"//

To Dance For A King

"Fire, God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob, not of the philosophers and scholars. Certainty. Heartfelt joy. Peace. God of Jesus Christ. Joy, joy, joy, oceans of joy."
//Blaise Pascal//

2 Samuel 6:14-15
And David danced before the Lord with all his might, wearing a priestly garment. So David and all the people of Israel brought up the Ark of the Lord with shouts of joy and the blowing of ram's horns.

And you're free to dance
Forget about your two left feet
And you're free to sing
Even joyful noise is music to me
You're free to love
Cause I have given you My love
And it's made you free...
I have set you free.
//Ginny Owens/Free//

Grace like rain falls down on me...

Samson

You are my sweetest downfall

Good morning, you beautifully green, wet world outside. To be wakened by the sound and scent of a thunderstorm can hardly be surpassed by any paltry alarm ring, and what a glorious day!

Psalm 19:1-2//
The heavens are telling of the glory of God;
And their expanse is declaring the work of His hands.
Day to day pours forth speech,
And night to night reveals knowledge.

I have sipped from the cup of delight, and instead of feeling the effects fade with time, I have woken up to joy even greater than before.