MISSIONS AFTERMATH

I try to make it so difficult: so linear and shaped and at the same time so passionate and poetic

My left brain and my right brain cannot coexist- I get overwhelmed by the holistic version of myself

I feel so silly when I realize that I have pigeonhole you to make myself comfortable and by the same token made my own life so much more narrow and hectic

If I can’t see you as a whole person it’s no wonder that I completely short circuit my own wealth

I get so exhausted of my own ridiculous games and yet sometimes I just don’t know how to stop

Except to just quit moving and breathe

Sometimes there is absolutely no answer to pain and confusion other than to just let it be and eventually your knees will drop

Only my Abba can handle the overflow when I start to seethe

It’s so hard to give a “put together” response when I am emotionally drained and spiritually moving and physically incredibly uncertain

I absolutely have no idea what is next and the social and cultural construct demands that I have a plan in place

I don’t have a plan – all I have to offer is an aching heart and a desire and a whole lot of need – what will Abba do with this non-plan

I need to time to think. I need some time to cry. I need some emotional space.

I feel so lost and incompetent and my inabilities feel so much larger than my gifts

I find myself wandering in a land with too many questions and too few answers

Yet my Abba says “wait and see” and I want to scream and shake my fists

I want to be able to execute something well orchestrated with the ease and grace of dancers

Yet a small voice speaks to me. “It’s not about you.”

Sometimes I hate that voice

I know that it is true

And I have a choice.

Calm down and follow along

In the grace of God’s plan and feel the pinch of the discomfort and the pain of the unknown and the divine chaos

Counterintuitive and at the same time strong

Without Him I would, in the truest sense, be lost.

Not Numbers

The heart of Jesus

He mourns for people, not numbers

Every hair on your head is counted, truly truly HE sees us

Sometimes it is easy to forget this when life so easily encumbers.

Women, NOT numbers. Life, not death

Father, You hold our worth in your gentle hand

It is impossible for me to fathom Your height and your breadth

There is just so much that I do not understand

You see souls, intrinsic value

Not numbers, Abba, Not numbers

In the midst 0f lies you know what is true

You bring us to summer in the midst of Decembers

What can we do when man tries to pin numbers to the hip of an unnamed woman that YOU love?

She thinks that she doesn't even have a name

Father YOU know every part of her and your attention does not rove

Perhaps others may play with her existence but to YOU it is no game

Father all of your children - I beg you to take care of them

I beg you to rise up your own to bring them into your arms

If you are the flower I will be the stem

Lord let it be not "if" but "when"

PERHAPS

Perhaps God will act on my behalf

With man after man taking my innocence how am I supposed to be at peace with love?

The most unsuspecting friend will be the subject of my wrath

Do I know how to take an olive branch from a dove?

Why am I even here?

I am a broken, broken woman yearning to reach out to broken hearts

How effective can my paltry overtures be?

Like a crippled woman trying to dance the arts?

Yet perhaps God will act on my behalf

The last person this can be about is me

He gave Aaron to Moses and you almost just have to laugh

At the things God can see I may never see

Perhaps this humble servant can be obedient

Perhaps God has a grander plan

Perhaps not comprehensible when I am heeding it

Perhaps this is why He is God and I am woman

Perhaps God will act on the behalf of all of us

Truly what are we, besides agents of change?

It may be just a matter of trust

Rather than something we can measure or gague

Perhaps, oh, perhaps HE WILL

If only we are still.

MISSIONS

Take my heart and let it be

Stepping out into a world unseen

Wondering if I can possibly measure up – want my heart to represent Yours

Wondering about the sequence of events in my life and what it possibly could mean

Abba – what do you see when You look at us?

All so eager to reach out and touch hurting hearts?

We want to do everything plus

Yet we know that with YOU is where it all starts

We want You to move in the midst of us and perhaps so trite, yet we want to be YOUR hands and feet

To learn about what YOUR heart looks like when you bleed for others pain

What happens when eyes and heart and mind and soul altogether meet?

What are we going to lose and what are we going to gain

Abba we are so thankful for YOUR commission and YOUR word

Abba glory be to YOU

The whole thing still feels a little absurd

Only YOU can take something that doesn’t make much sense and say “Child, that doesn’t make it any less true.”

I JUST DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO

Maybe if I breathe really quickly I won’t be able to feel my heart ache with every beat

Maybe if I surround myself with noise and chatter

Maybe if I hadn’t welcomed you into my life and invited you to take seat

Maybe the word “may be” just doesn’t matter

What am I supposed to do with the jumbled mess of confusion that you handed off to me with your anguished face?

What am I supposed to do with the tendrils of the plant of relationship that you cut off during the height of its growth?

Am I supposed to be the barrister when love grows at a rapid pace?

How was I even supposed to know that you perjured against your oath?

What can I reconcile now that I don’t even want to see you crumble and fall

Unless it is back into my arms?

Darling, there is no such thing as too short or too tall

Only too much deceit and charms

I don’t care if you don’t want me to see where your underbelly lies

A life that is not shared is not lived

Darling we have seen too many years to say such silly goodbyes

And I love you too much not to forgive

Abba see him, chase him, bring him into YOUR arms

That he may be one with you

Intimacy with you calms the most alarming alarms

Abba, I just don’t know what to do.

ONE HUNDRED YEARS FERMENT

I finally gave love a chance. I finally rode the forbidden wings of change

I trusted the twisted sense of humor of fate that perhaps this time it would end well

That the outcome would finally not be deranged

That there would be nothing to buy and nothing to sell

Remember that song that touches on the insensitivity of saying nothing?

Casual goodbyes?

You are so incredibly uptight about doing the “right thing”

What about the lies that you tell with your eyes?

I’m so tired of halfway and so weary of just getting by

I want something wholehearted and desperate

I will scream if one more stupid man asks me “why”

I need “thou art more lovely and more temperate”

Do not insult me with your ignorant excuses and your stammered shortcomings

Do not approach me if you cannot stand on your convictions

I’m so tired of silly play things

I will not chase you in a thousand directions

I am a woman – worthy of the pearl in the field – worthy of crossing the ocean – certainly worthy of your priority, your time, your respect

Do not indulge me for the sake of your “feel good” moment

Love me with all that you have and never treat me like a prospect

Treat me as a wine good for 100 years ferment.

ALL MY LOVE, ABBA. FOR YOU

Eyes are sparkling. Head is spinning. The leaves are a lovely shade of orange of brown and suddenly I notice the earth.

How long have I been living in this place? How long has joy been in my soul?

It’s been quite awhile and when I slow down I see that peace has found a place where I used to wonder what I am worth

I find that it doesn’t really matter anymore once I relinquish control.

For you, Abba, have stolen my heart. I write a love song to you with my eyes and my spirit and my soul

My feet dance a love song to you.

Perhaps I don’t know the steps to walk that make a person whole

But there is something so simple in the way that I love You.

I sing a song of grace and forgiveness and everlasting comfort in Your arms

It is to YOU I run when I have lost my way, when things don’t make sense, when I know that there is something new to learn

With you there is no artfulness, no pretensions, no charms

You are the first resort, the last resort, the path of most resistance, never leaving me, a place I can always turn

Never, ever, ever a Father like you.

You carry my life in your hands and still your hand is small enough to wipe away my tears

You share your perspective yet understand my point of view

You never judge me for my fears.

For you, Abba. For you. All my love, Abba. For you.