May 30, 2015
It’s a contradiction–we gain so many things by letting go. This is Scripture, yes–he who loses his life will find it–but it’s also the solid necessity of how things work. We’ll never find what we’re really seeking, namely love, joy, and peace, except in a place of wild abandonment. We know this to be true, or at least our pop songs do. No one sings along in the car to a song about self-protection and safety.
May 26, 2014
Today finds me sitting on the floor amidst piles of paper and clothes, sorting what goes to Goodwill and what goes with me into a new season. I found an old writing notebook, full of melodramatic scribbles and the first gems that convinced me I could really be a writer. I found something I had written in late 2009, when life was largely frustrating and uncertain. It’s an ode to unexpected journeys and the Kentucky back-roads that still romance me. I thought it was fitting to share this week, as I face another transition and a great deal of uncertainty. It’s rough, but all this sorting doesn’t leave me much time for editing.
March 5, 2014
Dust you are, and to dust you shall return.
July 30, 2013
Find rest, my soul
In the God of cricket song and fireflies,
The composer of the evening breeze.
Be still, my heart.
Steady your beat to the rhythm He brings–
A gracious cadence, unforced, unstrained.
Fret not, my mind.
Concern yourself with nought but tinkling rain.
The noise of your care has no place here.
Shut now, my eyes.
A Father’s Love guards your sleep with peace,
And as He watches over you, He sings.
July 15, 2013
The chill settles in, and I try unsuccessfully to ward it off by tucking the blanket in around me. I’m actually shaking, but it’s a cold I like. Shivers come so rarely in July. Chimes ring in the wind, the noise drawing my gaze downward for just a moment before you gasp and point. Another one. I’m astonished by the eighth or tenth shooting star tonight, wondering at how each one is a little different.
April 5, 2013
The first warm day is a new freedom—a surprise each year, as if it’s never been before, as if the bright sun has never called me round the bend to a bigger world. It calls now for the first time, and the breeze kisses legs that have never been bare. Feet that know only wall-bound paths fare farther, now their only boundary the horizon. It is the season of wandering. And wander I will, as each breath in blows dust from the corners of my mind, in this new, expansive world, this world of branches and blooms and bare feet on fresh-cut grass. Flung suddenly into beauty that commands my focus, I feel a grin take over my face—I know the binding frost has lifted. The world is new-born, and first warmth brings a thrill at the thought of freedom.
December 18, 2012
“All is not well. All is broken, ruined, and wears the stain of our whoring. The earth groans, vacant eyes haunt would-be lovers, lead silences mere children—and we, clueless and helpless, fiddle as our city burns. Sons of Adam and daughters of Eve, doomed in the dark to grope about for another apple. Truth and light have run and now taunt us, always beyond our grasp, while half truths wait in shop windows for any who like things wrapped in pretty boxes.
It is not right. It is not well. How long, oh Lord, how long?”
I scribbled an earlier version of that a little over a year ago, and it feels especially poignant tonight. News of the worse kind has been ringing in our ears since Friday: 20 children murdered. I have no words, only the groan in my chest that echoes the Psalmist’s question: how long?
August 18, 2012
Will you come?
If, at 2 am, my eyes light up
Because sleep has flown, but the stars are bright
And beckon watchers,
Will you come?
When, at early light, the back road calls,
And we had no plans, but the time is right
For small adventures,
Will you come?
Now, at moment’s nudge, to run away
For an hour or so, will you come despite
Our fancied oughts?
Will you come?
Or, better still, oh, precious thought!
Will you take my hand, your own eyes bright,
And say, “let’s go”?
August 14, 2012
Blog Wars rules require each warrior to guest post at least once on each of the competition blogs. Today, I welcome Warrior Cory of A Multitude of Drops. I met Cory about a year ago now, when he was introduced to me as one half of “The Boys.” While initially just friends of my roommate, I’m happy to say I’ve bonded with both Cory and Dustin (the other “boy”) over Killer Bunnies, Josh Hutcherson, and now Gothic literature. Cory’s varied interests and his keen intelligence make him a worthy opponent, indeed. In a move that was either genius or cheap, he spoofed my earlier post, reminding us that airline employees aren’t the only one who have it rough:
August 14, 2012
From 2006-2011, I was a proud employee of Delta Airlines. My mama just had her 14th anniversary with Delta, and my big brother did a stint as a ramp agent in college, so it’s about the closest thing we have to a family business. (Other than being right. And awesome.) I loved working for Delta. The airport was such a fun environment, my coworkers were AWESOME, and passengers were easy enough to deal with … most of the time. Let’s just say some people get, um, hostile when they’re traveling. It’s alright though. At some point in her life, every woman needs to be called an ugly **** **** for no apparent reason, right? Character building.