Limping as I go

always a smear of sticky

                across the cheek of my soul

always a bit of blemish

                on the skin of my emotion

always a kind of kink

                in the hip of my spirit

that leaves me

                a little messy,

                a little rough,

                a little lame,

returning to you

where you lick your thumb

                and rub my face clean

where you smooth your salve

                over my burning skin

where you give me your arm

                on which to lean,

                as you walk me through

back to the mess,

                and the rough,

                and lame,

limping as I go

Old Friends

Old friends come back in like skipping stones

across water’s surface

in slow motion;

touching down for just a moment,

and never long enough.

Leaving ripples which flow well beyond

the place of touching,

of contact.

Finally sinking beneath what’s seen

to rest in the deep of the soul,

creating new landscapes far below,

and new currents above.  

Our shores long to be visited again,

to be stirred by the passing through,

the fine flick of the wrist

of old friends.

Still fighting

I’ve been meaning to – wanting to – write something lately.  I have all this stuff floating around in my head but I can’t seem to make sense of any of it, at least not enough to form thoughts and ideas that would make sense to anyone else.  I’m silent because I’m a little scared, and a little weak, and still a lot insecure.  Opportunities have been placed before me lately and while I am grateful for the confidence in the presenting, I’m still unsure of my ability.  I actually watched a hypnotist on Dr. Oz yesterday (let’s not get into why I was watching Dr. Oz in the first place) and he was talking about using hypnosis to tap into the subconscious mind to free oneself of negative impulses.  He was mainly talking about weight loss and quitting smoking but he also touched on the idea of freeing people from their own self-doubt and lack of confidence.  I watched intently hoping to gain a tool of some kind that I could use to pry open my lockbox of insecurity and release all of it, but after 30 minutes of watching, no such luck.  I even thought about looking in the phone book for hypnotists in my area who might be able to help me.  I’m embarrassed even writing it, but I am glad to say I did not look. 

So no hypnotists in my future, and still no tattoo (Dad), but still hanging on to the same old fears and other belaboring junk. 

And I keep thinking of the words often spoken, “My grace is sufficient for you” and quickly realizing I don’t always believe it.  This then makes me wonder if not believing takes away from the validity of the statement, or just robs me of the ability to receive its truth.  The grace eludes me, or I elude it. 

There’s been a lot of screaming going on inside my head recently.  I’ve been listening to this Dave Matthew’s Song called “Gray Street”.  The chorus at one point goes:

            “There’s an emptiness inside her/and she’d do anything to fill it in/and though it’s red blood bleeding from her now/it’s more like cold blue ice in her heart/She feels like kicking out all the windows/and setting fire to this life/if she could change everything about her/into colors bold and bright/but all the colors mix together/ to gray/and it breaks her heart”

And that’s how I feel lately.  A little dramatic, I know. 

No placating encouragement needed.  I’m just doing a little wrestling.  Really wanting to curl up under shadowy wings and hide out for a while but hiding doesn’t seem to be in my cards right now.  Getting down in the mix, in the mess, and duking it out does.  I’ll be swinging like a madwoman and hope I’m not just shadowboxing. 

Maybe one of the punches will knock loose the lid to that box…

Understanding Love

I started my new job today.  It was one of four days I will actually get paid to be at the ministry center this summer.  I spent the morning hanging out with the ladies there, chatting with them over breakfast, helping to watch their children while they smoked or showered, and helping to make sure they had what they needed to achieve their goals for the day.  Some of those goals were quite small, others a bit larger, but all were goals of some sort.  Around lunchtime, I suddenly found myself alone.  It was a bit ironic considering I went there with the hope of pouring in to the lives of these women, to be a sort of conduit of hope in hopeless places, and I was alone!  I spent several hours alone actually, and since there was no one to engage, I decided to sit on the patio with a magazine and do some light reading.  I casually flipped the pages, not very interested in most of its content, and answered the phone when it rang.  All was quiet for the most part.

As I was leafing through the magazine I came across a page about a writing contest.  The magazine is sponsoring a writing contest about “life lessons”.  The topic question is “When did you first understand the meaning of love?”  I thought to myself, I should enter this contest.  I’ve only entered one other writing contest and apparently didn’t win (or lost, in another word) but that was several years ago and hey, it was worth a shot.  So as I continued to mindlessly turn the pages of the magazine, my mind was turning pages of memory in search of the moment, or even a moment, when I understood the meaning of love.  I was a little troubled at my lack of ability to pinpoint a moment, and the more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t let it go.  Finally I put down the magazine and retrieved my laptop from the car.  I figured maybe if I started writing something would come out.  That happens to me sometimes – I start writing about some topic I believe to have a grasp of only to discover what I thought I knew about myself and my thoughts/feelings/reactions was wrong.  It’s weird.  But anyway, I figured I’d start writing and voila! I’d have a better understanding of love.

I started writing, had about a page written, reread it, then deleted it all.  

Then I started again.  Then I deleted again.

I have now started this essay three times and I still don’t know what I’m talking about.  

The stupid thing is that I have received so much love in my life, this essay should be cake.  So why can’t I figure out how to write about any of it, or really how to write the understanding?  

Sadly, I believe it’s because I have yet to gain a good understanding of love.  I can give you the usual answers: it’s a deep longing for someone, a sacrifice on behalf of someone else, a burning desire to be near another, etc, etc, etc.  We could go to the parental definition, the idea of doing anything, even dying, for one’s child, but again, that’s not really an understanding.  How do you write such a thing? 

What I began to see was I still don’t have a real understanding of love because I think our definition of love isn’t really love, or at best it’s a limited love.  We do for others, long for nearness with others, say the words “I love you” to others, almost always because of what we get in return, not what we’re giving.  Does that sound completely jaded and cynical? 

For as much as I “love” the people in my life, there is almost always something I get in return for my love. Does that make my love any less real or effective? Or is it still valid, just a little twisted?

Maybe that’s the point.  Maybe our version of love is only defined and fulfilled when given, then taken, then taken, and given again.  It’s a continuous movement that becomes tangible, realized, in the give and take.  Love changes from  a noun to a verb and back again an indefinite number of times.  Maybe that’s the part I’m just beginning to understand.  So it’s a little messy, a little broken, but still something.  Maybe that’s love here.

Being the neurotic individual I am, I had it in my head that I was going to get an essay written tonight, even if it sent me into an emotional coma for lack of understanding, or at least identifying well, love in my life.  Forget the fact that the deadline for submissions is September 15^th – I need to get it done!  But then I realized I have more processing to do, which is why this post exists.  Writing about writing - only a writer (aspiring or otherwise) would find value in such a topic.  

For everyone out there who has loved me – please hear me when I say you have all loved me well.  This dilemma does not stem from your failure to love, it comes from my failure to understand.  All of you are the reason I even bother to attempt the understanding.  You deserve it because you’ve been good at the job, which I know hasn’t been easy.

New Adventure

So I really just want to give a quick update as to what's been going on.  I'm about to embark on a new adventure, one that has been a desire of mine for sometime.  No, I'm not going skydiving (but I hope to someday).  Yes, I do plan to get a tattoo sometime in the near future, but that's not it either.  Starting Monday, a new center for homeless women and children is opening here in Grand Haven and I've been given the opportunity to work there.  I was originally offered a part time position but the hours didn't work for our family so I'll be volunteering as a mentor as well as acting as a fill-in person for the staff when they take vacations or need time off for other reasons.  I took a tour of the center yesterday after staff meeting and it is unbelievably gorgeous.  There are 6 rooms currently with the hope to add up to 33 more in the coming years.  They have already approved 5 women to begin the program there and I would imagine the 6th room will be filled soon.  Each room has its own private bathroom and there is also a communal kitchen, dining room, and living room area in the house.  This is unlike most homeless shelters in that the women who come here will be set up with an individualized program to fit their current needs.  They will be given money management training, parenting classes, communication classes, as well as a host of other "elective" classes, like health and wellness, nutrition, how to utilize the community resources available, bible study classes (if they desire), and many others.  If a woman needs to earn her high school diploma, we will help her do that.  If she needs counseling for emotional or spiritual issues, we'll make sure it happens.  It's a complete life skills program and looks like it will be really cool.


I've been given the very first resident to mentor, which is humbling for me.  We have some similarities based on my background so it seems like a good fit.  I'm not sure that I feel qualified to take on such a task, but the  call was never "only if you feel qualified".  I suppose my life experience qualifies me to some extent, but we'll see.

Anyway, just thought I'd give you the scoop.  I'm really excited to see God move through this ministry center.  I know there will be issues that arise and we'll have bumps along the way, but at the end of the day it will be good. 

So if you think about it, pray for the opening of the center on Monday.  And send one out for me as well.  I need all the help I can get!