backward breeze....................

what good do metaphors do when the emotions in your soul are too many to describe?  And yet they are all i have to describe how i feel.  Memories of moments i will never forget.  Memories of moments i wish i could forget. 
 

Each memory but a breeze in my life.  A wind blowing my heart here and there.  Mistakes like a gushing wind pushing me off course.  God's gentle voice like a soft gentle breeze guiding me back to where I am supposed to be going.  Is it possible that i will ever get there, when i feel like i keep taking two steps backward but only one step forward? 
 

...and the breezes keep blowing....

-written 3/29/2011-

the spring morning

The spring morning... the cool gray light, the soft clean breeze, the smell of dew, the song of many birds.  And the only word that comes to mind is gossamer.  Because the word means something like silk.  A cloth of something even finer than a spiders web.  Can you imagine?... a garment, a dress made of the delicate lace of a spider?  Shimmering with a dew of diamonds.  Lighter than air in the foggy morn.  Softer than the down of a newly hatched songbird.  So delicate, so fine that when the sun comes out to shine, it will melt away... like the damp morning air... like cotton candy in your mouth... light and sweet for an instant... and then gone again... leaving you wanting more...

This is how the morning is... here for a little while... bright, clear, pure... and then gone until it comes again.  So also our attitudes.  For a moment, in the peace of the morning we are joyous, happy, content... but as the sun comes out to shine, as the heat of the day presses in on us... all the calm of the morning melts away, and we forget those few moment... become irritable, agitated.

Make your attitude toward others like that of a spring morning... a cool refreshing breeze to the sun-scorched world...

-written 3/24/2011-

visitors in my tree

Yesterday i sat high up in my tree, trying to study.  Enjoying the beautiful weather, the breeze, the smell of the outdoors.  In complete silence i sat with my book in front of me.  

All of the sudden i heard a buzz, and glancing up i saw two bees coming to visit me in my tree.  My first instinct was to shy away and leave the tree, let them be.  But i stayed and watched as they wandered among the branches buzz-buzzing loudly.  Looking at me, an invader to this space, wondering what to do with my presence.  Then moving on to search the birdhouse.  And finally leaving the tree in peace.  

i look back at my book.  The flurry of wings made me jump.  i look up at the brown object flying directly toward me, it takes a moment to register what it is.  A robin.  Not but a foot or two from my head she lights on a branch.  Then retreats in a frantic flight.  And she is gone, as she had come.  Only there for a moment, not long enough for me to even enjoy it.  But amazing to have been that close to a wild creature, a wonderful little bird.

...invited to be a part of the nature around me...

-written 3/23/2011-

...feelings of nature...

The breeze caresses my wild hair...  The damp earth cools my wearied feet...  The sunlight wraps it's warmth around my shoulders...  The tree limbs hold me strong... The raindrops kiss my smiling cheeks...

...and all together they are God's heart loving mine...

-written 3/22/2011-

Singing Flowers!!

The sun fades in and out as it drifts lazily among the clouds high above.  Appearing cool and pale then shifting slowly bright and strong.  The little white flowers reflect the sun's wanderings.  They are soft white blooms dancing on the trees.  The sun shines down and they become brilliant, almost blinding... like snow.  Melting now... into soft petals still smiling in the muted sunlight.  Almost as though at any moment a fairy might be sleeping in the cool quiet palm of one of the blooms.  A strong breeze comes, the branches sway, and the flowers laugh with the sun.  Singing their joy.

-written 3/21/2011-

barefoot.....forever.....

barefoot.... running through a field....  free, like a deer, a bird, a child...

Not even the stones beneath can stop me with their sharp edges, or the hard pavement.  My feet will grow tough, and it will no longer bother me.  The sweet feeling of moist dirt, of sand, of soft grass.  

Running... flying free across the hard packed ground... one with the nature around me...

Amazing how good it feels to go barefoot.... not something that everyone understands... but something that is special... natural...  kissing the earth for a fleeting moment... and then moving on like a gazelle...  flying...  running... forever.... forever..... into the woods, into the trees, into the sunset.... forever....

-written 3/20/2011-

a little spider

Yesterday i worked out in the sun, picking up sticks and pulling up roots.  Hard work, dirt, heat.

tiring, exhausting, draining.  But good.

Partway through the day i realized that i was not appreciating the beauty around me.  Tired as i was, there was no excuse for not appreciating the pleasant day.  Complaining about the heat when the weather was gorgeous.  Seeing only the desolateness of the plowed over ground and the mud on my shoes.  Not the trees overhead, or the pattern of mud tracks, or the detail of each stick.  Not even the bugs or the stones.  

After that i tried to take a minute to look around and find something beautiful.  It was harder than i thought it would be.  But when we were finished - sitting in the shade resting - a spider crawled over near us.  Such an amazing little creation.  Black and silver and orange.  It's little fuzzy feelers and legs.  Crawling slowly and carefully with a missing leg.  Perfectly made how God planned.  

Coincidence it was there at that moment?... I think not.  And it made my day!

With dirty clothes and heavy eyes i climbed in the car and let the breeze from the window blow over me.

-written 3/12/11-

Videos In My Head

Videos in my head.  Never a script, or voices.  Videos playing in my head, memories floating past.

 

Playing with my daddy on the old green rug up in my room when i was little.
Reading under the hot covers at night with a flashlight so mommy wouldn't know.
Crying, and la la making me smile with our "happy tissue."
Getting scratches all over my legs because i went behind the shop to pick blackberries for my sissy.
Building a fort out of old greasy sheets.  Hooking them from tree to tree.
Folding hundreds of bulletins before church on Sunday mornings.
Watching dozens of paintballs coming at me with no way to avoid them.
Cuddling with my mommy.
Sitting with my daddy's arm around me.
Changing oil for the first time.
Trying to do silly crafts without success.
Learning how to ride my bike without training wheels.
Watching mommy play the guitar and sing for us before bed.
Having picnics in the backyard.
Being an adventurer, a mommy, an explorer.
Just being plain silly.
Dressing up, playing with dolls and Barbies - ditching it all to get dirty.
Anything new, i'd do.
How many more memories lay forgotten in the depth of my brain?  Videos, just waiting for me to push the play button, and watch the screen in my mind light up...
-written 3/4/2011-

in the midst of the mist of confusion

Confusion creeps in like a unforeseen mist, blinding me from my future.  Scattering my plans.  The little drops hang suspended in midair, landing on my skin.  i breathe in and my lungs fill with it, and my pace slows.  i reach in front of me, into the milky air through which i can't see.  My steps are tentative, slow, laborious.  My mind slowly clouds and i feel unconscious in my consciousness.  blind.  My heart aches, wanting to see, but i can't.  Dreams of the sun, of flowers.  Anything to dispel this sticky air that clings to me, pulling me down, drenching me, smothering me.
  
    And in the mist i see a hand, a foot.  Walking in front of me, the only things i can see in my blind stumbling.  No more of my bold steps, but i see something, glimpse hope.  A voice calling me, telling me to be bold, follow the path He makes, and i will not fall.
  The mist groans, and whispers to me, enticing me to stay, to wallow in it's coolness.  My brain clouds over again, but i force myself to blindly step out and follow the disappearing feet of my Guide.  Boldly stepping, until i can't go on again. 
 And then, just like before, He will come back for me.  Coax me on when i am weak and don't feel as if i can stand any longer.
 
       look... just look... keep looking and one day you will see... it may not be for a long time, but eventually you will see.
Right now i can't see why things happen, why i feel the ways i do.  But i know, that just like in my life before now, i will see.  And even if it isn't until i go to heaven, i will see.
-written 3/4/2011-

stuck

i shouldn't have gone there. But it seemed irresistible, so i did. And now i can't go back again, because my bridge has been burned. They say not to worry about crossing the bridge until you get to it. But did they ever consider that it might come crashing down as soon as you go across? Then where will you be? Stuck. With only the memory of what once was. 

  

Wouldn't it be wiser to look at the bridge from afar and ponder for a time whether or not to cross? Whether or not what's on the other side is worth the thrill of walking over that mysterious bridge. Because who knows? You could get stuck.

-written 3/1/11-

...i forgot.....................

i forgot... how to cry...

i don't know how, or when.

But today my heart was hurting, and no tears came to sooth my pain.

i realized how i have become so numb.  More so than i knew.

Instead of hurt, there was a dullness... i can't explain.

Not quite hurt, not quite an anger, not quite disappointment.  But a sea of welling emotions...

and it makes me sick.

The if's, the do's, the don't's, the maybe's, the shouldn't's, the will's, the promises,

...never... a word i wish i didn't know...

...always... another, i wish didn't exist...

because their meaning cannot be known... except through Christ... and then - only then - do we know what never & forever truly mean...

 -i love you... come back-

 

...i cannot feel... and nothing can hurt me... i am invincible... or so i tell myself...

...but somehow, some part of me, doesn't quite believe... 

...some small part that remembers I am actually human... some part that still is able to love...

and then i create pity for myself...
and i cannot explain how i block it all out... because even i have yet to figure it out... and if i did, i could never stop it by myself.

i am protected, and trapped, by this wall i have created... suffocated, kept alive... dying and living... forgetting to remember... remembering to forget... mistrust... and now i'm alone... except i'm not...  but i choose it...  because help only seems to hurt...
-written 2/26/2011-