Monday, May 31, 2010

Twenty Minutes is Time Enough

Time enough to take a break. To allow a servant husband to take care of two children and hit the sidewalk pavement hard with sneakers, pounding, pounding, pounding out with each step the pent up emotions and fragmented thoughts of a day running into a week, a month, a year and even more years. Time enough to allow the Spirit to speak into a crowded, over-worked mind. Time enough to breathe out the tension of neverending mommy demands and breathe in the freedom of being loved. Time enough to confess the silly distractions you crave and plead for higher, deeper desires to see a broken world made whole--new lives for old. Time enough to reflect on the journey...days past and places risen to and fallen from. Time enough to recognize the passion that once consumed life's work--that longing to be loved. Truly loved. To see the flower of self blooming before unworthy spectators who were believed to be the tender of the soil. Time enough to remember the wilting of the petals of a brightly blooming being pleading for affirmation of its beauty. Time enough to Praise. Praise for falling petals and crumbling stems and all of the shattered hopes of former days. Time enough to warm in innermost heart upon the greatest of lessons learned. Before the flower was a bud or shoot or seed, even without form, only a thought--there was Love. Love itself to create all that is. Seen outwardly. Known inwardly. Love to see the deepest ugliness of the misshapen, the roots that fail to spring from the ground, the stems that fail to stand, the buds that do not open and the petals that wilt before fully spread. Love to defy the opinions of all the unworthy ones who were foolishly allowed to behold. To touch. To know. Love to have and to hold. Love that is the source of life--not the manipulator of it.

Twenty minutes is time enough to know and be known. To love and be loved. To come back with the same old sneakers, and waiting needs of little ones, but to have pounded the pavement of memory and to have the Spirit touch His fingers on the deep of the soul. To have a heart renewed and a love re-kindled because twenty sacred minutes are a gift to the one who is loved by Love itself.

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Friday, May 28, 2010

Simply Live...

I wrote this piece on 2/1/02 and it was originally titled
Mom's Inspiration
.
While she was/is the entire inspiration for this piece, I decided to go with a more transcendent one in the hopes of honoring her legacy even more.

Funneled hope pours through the day's dismal tinge and the spirit longs, yea desires, to live. "Simply live." She says in a quiet, steady, ready voice. Let me live the days given and find meaning true yet. Let me take what it is TO BE and narrow and shape moments of action with the simple peace of life. Let me yield to the eternal finger that pokes its persistent end through THIS DAY. Let voice be breath's action as the longing, desperate voices of the many who suffer with nothing to live for becomes my inspiration to live. Let me walk--never wavering from the continuance of a true journey. For in the end living is not measured in quantity, as though more years mean more life. It is measured by its passion--not the flashing, daring kind, but the one that refuses to be anything less than alive. This is the life I choose--no other is meant for me.




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Sunday, May 2, 2010

I Will Let This One...

You wrote no lofty poems
that critics counted art.
But with a nobler vision
you lived them in your heart.

You carved no shapeless marble
to some high soul design.
But with a finer sculpture
you shaped this soul of mine.

You built no great cathedrals
that centuries applaud:
but with a grace exquisite
your life cathedraled God.

- Thomas Fessenden, excerpt from Quiet Reflections: A Mother's Journal.


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