Friday

to move on

well my friends,
the time has come to
unhook my link to the world beyond,
to fill a truck with all my family's
material goods
and set out to the new,
to follow behind the honkerman,
to drive south
a thousand miles,
to begin
again...

please pray for us on this journey,
for safe, joyful travels,
easy transition,
and peace in our move...

until we get internet hooked up in our new home,
i will be thinking of you all,
love to you...

Wednesday

to smile and wave

he drove by and honked
and the bookworm and
the sensitive artist child were afraid,
leaping from their bikes like
a flock of birds scattering from
danger,
barging into the house,
squealing about this man whom
they didn't know,
always honking his horn
when they were outdoors,
playing
their sweet games of
childhood,
knights sword fighting,
brother and sister game of tag,
bike races,
bug hunting,
all they did outside
he noticed,
and they feared him... 

he, gray-haired and jolly faced,
they, young and too wary,
and he,
filled with joy at seeing
children be children,
not with their faces plastered to a screen,
not having their imaginations
stifled and
killed,
and they,
unsure of him,
ignoring him, running from
him

i always told them
to wave,
to smile,
but their childish ideas got the better of them,
and they hid
until the day they noticed
his house
for rent
and these two young ones
fearedthey had made him sad,
so sad,
he was moving away...

and so they began to watch for him,
to stop in the middle of play and
wave and
smile
when he would drive by,
and they would proudly tell me,
"mama, we waved at
the honkerman!"

and i would tell them
how glad that made me

the autumn air was just beginning to crisp,
and our packing was barely
under way,
boys carrying heavy boxes to the garage,
i inside cleaning,
children outside playing,
i hear excited voices
coming in from the garage,
many little chitter chatters utterly
unintelligible
and i ask for just one voice,
so i can understand

and daddy's voice breaks in above the others,
a voice of reason in the midst of chaos,
he explains that dear old man,
the honkerman,
stopped by
with a treat for the young friends
who bring joy
into his everyday,
he tells he is moving,
and husband tells him we are too,
to california...
oh, the honkerman is surprised,
that is where i am going too...
and then he names the town he is moving to,
and my husband gasps,
it is the same town we are moving to,
shock settles on the both of them,
and they discover more,
we are moving to the same street!


and husband tells of the joy that overcomes
this beautiful elderly man,
as he catches his breath and tries 
to calmly say,
well, i guess maybe 
i will still get to wave to my
young friends.

and everyday since
he has gifted us with treats,
with comedy,
with companionship,
and yesterday he went on his way,
south,
a thousand miles,
and we will join him in four days,
living in a little bit of paradise,
and bookworm and sensitive artist
cannot wait
to take him a love filled pie
on thanksgiving...

linking with emily


Sunday

to cherish the song

i sing my babies to sleep,
i always have.
i rock them,
singing melodies of worship,
softly,
gently,
moving with them and
watching them slowly melt
into me
as they drift off

someone told me with the first,
don't do it,
make sure you put them in their crib,
let them cry themselves to sleep...

and i thought,
why?
is it for my own convenience
that i train them
in this way?
it has never been inconvenient
for me
to hold my babies,
to experience this moment,
precious,
i drink it in,
and i have found
each child goes to sleep on their own,
in their own time,
and i'm okay with that.

because in the meantime,
we embrace eachother,
we love,
we grow...

and as i sing moses to sleep,
almost nine months,
he has now joined in
with his own sweet melody,
and i sing,
and he sings with me,
softly,
gently,
daaaa daaaa daaaa,
eyes closed,
lovingly caressing my arm
with his chubby baby fingers,

and i think
i would never give this up
for the convenience
of his sleeping
on his own...


joining with ann, counting my gifts...

babies to hold, rock, sing to
being inconvenienced
my mama's carrot cake recipe, which i made for my husband's birthday
a house to move to at home
a very successful yard sale
my brother who graciously rented us a uhaul to move home
a God who is working all things out for us...

Thursday

to breathe again

covered in dirt,
i can't find an opening to
breathe
it's consuming
and these desert winds thrash about
and continue to cover
me
with dirt

and i try to see through
the thick layers
over
my eyes
and i pretend that my
vision is clear
that i understand
why i am here
when really i am disappearing
behind a fog
of desert
dirt

when the dirt is just about
to clog my throat,
and i feel
a tightening,
as if i were about to choke,
i learn the dirt
is too much for us all,
and clear air,
ocean breeze,
familiar faces and landscape,
is desired unanimously
to wash this dirt away

but confusion sets in,
will He see things the same,
is home His mode of
freeing us from the
dirt?
if He wants us to be covered,
and release us in another way,
will we be accepting?
and we have to realize that
His ways are perfect,
even when we
want to run,
screaming,
thinking we are dying,
He knows best...

and then He does,
He works things out,
and we get to go home...
moving a thousand miles
south,
in ten days,
thank You Jesus...

i'm already starting to breathe again,
breathe deep,
i can almost taste that
ocean air

linking with emily

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Wednesday

to let my arms pop up

that step of faith remains buried
deep
it's like all that stuff i did
that i wish i didn't
and i hide it away,
in fear of what will come
if it is unearthed

it's down so deep
and freedom is just beyond reach,
and all i have to do is dig it out,
but what if...
and every time the what if's come
it is buried just a little more
and i am reminded the hard part
is taking that step
that once i do,
God moves,
like moses
who had to raise his arms,
before
God parted the red sea,
and i wonder if he was like me,
frightened about what would happen
if he took that step
of faith,
if he raised his arms,
because he knew he had to,
but maybe that faith was so deep,
so deep,
he had to reach inside himself and pull it out,
rummage around inside,
through the junk, the sin, the fear,
the pain, the trial and error,
until finally he grabbed hold of it,
pulled,
and up popped his arms,
and God said,
there we go,
and the sea parted...

so here i am,
rummaging,
and i've found quite a bit i want to forget,
but i think i've almost found that faith,
i feel it in my hands,
i think my arms are starting to pop up...



linking with emily


to see passion again...

she walks through the door of our house,
long blond hair flowing behind her,
incredibly beautiful and breathtaking,
he follows behind her,
bandana wrapped around his head,
tattoos covering his arms,
legs,
smiles
which make all thoughts of despair flee
plastered to their familiar faces

and she tells of her heart wrenching experiences,
just back from an around the world trip
with YWAM,
stories of the beauty of kenya,
sorrow in india,
poverty in cambodia
lack of hospitality, and God's enduring faithfulness
in rome...
and she is a masterpiece,
cannot speak without tears
forming in her eyes,
words pouring out praising Him,
in awe of Him,
of His hand moving in this broken world,
and confusion appears,
her soul cries out to help, to love,
and she longs to know why...

why we live in a land of plenty,
where people are overflowing with stuff,
stuff,
which will rot and waste away,
and why there are shacks
where
baby defecates through the cracks in the floor
for they cannot afford diapers,
and two brothers arrested,
desperate to find work to care for their
siblings and grandparents,
sneaking into a land not their own,
the only land with work...

she doesn't understand,
and compassion bursts forth in her
confusion,
and she is beautiful...

and he is quiet,
and watches her with such adoration
as she speaks,
and he,
who waited patiently while she was gone,
wonders how their lives will change,
she set on fire,
and he ignited by her passion,
and they ready to go
and do,
she wants to dance the steps of angels,
and he to play the music of love,
and they to serve God
together...

they spend two days visiting us,
two days that were supposed to be
a few hours,
two days of
loving,
praying,
laughing,
remembering...

they tell us we bless them,
time spent with a family,
the love and joy of children,
and do they know it is them
that blesses us?
to hear their god drenched passion,
see His mighty hand move
in their lives,
did they know how we thirsted
for true fellowship,
how we were parched,
alone in the desert,
desperate for genuine prayer,
for family?

and He brought them to us,
for a taste,
for restoration,
and they are beautiful,
and He is beautiful...




linking with emily


Monday

to seek in silence

tip-toeing up the stairs,
through the halls of the house,
so as not to wake the children,
six of them now,
sleeping softly,
two of them camping out on the floor...

and it's so quiet,
my eyes close to breathe it in,
and the silence is so loud,
i think i might even be able to hear
Him,
maybe,
finally...

and i whisper soul cries to Him,
overwhelmed by silence,
by darkness,
and time passes,
i still feel heavy,
burdened,
confused,
and wonder when He will thrust open the heavens
and rain His peace,
and His strength down upon me...

crawling into bed,
lonesome and tear-stained,
husband pulls me close and whispers
precious secrets,
while soft snores from
crib sleeping babe flow through the room,

and my heart slows,
and the tears dry up,
as His peace flows through me,
and calms my tempestuous soul,
knowing that His ways are perfect,
and He rarely chooses to meet us where we would
want,
He does meet us,
in His ways...

so i thank Him today...

His peace which surpasses all understanding
knowing that His ways are perfect
six babes to fill this house
one husband to pull me close
friends from home visiting today, after not seeing them for two years
the scent of pumpkin permeating my house
things to hope for
new books to read
words to pour out on paper
never a dull moment

linking with ann today

holy experience