“Too often. . .I would hear men boast of the miles covered that day, rarely of what they had seen.”
Last night, over swordfish and orzo he prepared, we talk of life and of going, somewhere. This summer, so hot, seems to dash my spirit, time and again. I travel in the fall but had returned from a weekend away. Hurricane Irene caused my brother Josh and I to take a different trip than we’d expected: to Colorado instead of North Carolina. Collin hadn’t gone with me; he raced his bike. I was tired, having had an active weekend with Josh that looked like early mornings and yielded sore muscles. We ate, though, and I could see Collin’s face light up as he daydreamed out loud. This world, a playground, and we hear God’s invitation to participate in a word: explore.
I wish I had my camera to photograph the sureness on Collin’s face as he talked, for it mirrored something I know: going (somewhere, anywhere) widens the world, expands sight and shifts perspective. There. Is. More. I go on trips for a number of reasons: to see friends, to work, to participate in mission work, to do something different, to relax. This weekend I went to spend time with Josh and to get away. That was it. We found ourselves, though, strengthened and filled with anticipation and hope for the coming season. It was as if our hearts needed a bit of a reset, and we received it. Our everyday is not the whole of every day. There. Is. More.
It feels like a gift, this reminder.
“When hope is not pinned wriggling onto a shiny image or expectation, it sometimes floats forth and opens.”
words permanent on graph paper page
because short memory without that practice of coaxing dreams to permanence
so they might germinate free
and thankfully this practice exposes both truth and lies
and lies pile by the wayside revealed, powerless
but i ache, don’t we all?
for the day to come when arms spread wide, childlike
knowing, knowing, knowing truth
the work of these words permanent on graph paper page
is discovery, a treasure hunt for the realest real
and oh, the mesmerizing wonder of believing better
this world, made beautiful and we are in it
though this world, rent with fragments and scars, we are not of it
these words keep working out what that means
even on the worst of days and in the most fallen of moments
those words remain, steadying feeble steps, straightening bent paths
and these words they usher redemption
the contemplation of that thought quiets a soul
salve to the broken bits on many a rough day
those words permanent on graph paper page
I know, I know. It’s tremendously unfair to post a photo of a teary eyed little boy, dirty and frightened, when trying to raise awareness and get help supply shoes for 415+ poor kids in Mexico. It doesn’t help that he’s gorgeous. But I can’t help it. I love this photo. And I love the sleeping baby girl. Kids get to me. I love them.
Today was busy with catch-up. And it’s late. And I’m tired. But here’s what I’ve got.
aware of this world
not so much from the perspective of chaos
though not oblivious to loss
grieving for this world
not so much from the perspective of hopelessness
though not struggling to stop hoping
tender for this world
not so much with being worn down
though broken, wanting more
believing for this world
not so much because i have something to offer
though trusting my father is so much more
and loving all this world
because what he gave, what he gives
is the capacity to love
not so much because i have it all figured out
though aware that redemption has been given
and now grace is the world’s gift
grace for the world
hope for us all
thank you, thank you, Jesus