I come to the door
of the unknown, un
lock & open to a friend’s
smile. How are you?
pulling me into embrace.
Tired, I tell her. I feel more
pulling away. We spend hours
in color: I in blue, her in green
& brown – roots for a tree planted
on fabric – laughter erupts lips when she
pushes the tube of paint turned rubber. I
listen to the ease at which it comes, my
heart heavy with tears coming slowly out.
We listen to a song about chemicals –
the man sings along with melody,
his voice flutters as a bird & she mimics. I
listen as we crack up,
heaven coming in gasps. I tell her
she made me cry & we laugh more. I do
not tell her how this
feels like grief, heartbreak. Not
because I fear the loss, but I do not feel all
here. Present. I stare at the patch of blue,
the way the sun
comes & goes. A sun painted on
a paper towel while I must’ve been away.
Or head down in words. In between
yawns. I want to give more of myself,
hearing my words echo lies: I hope I’m
not boring you. No, she says. We sit in
silence before a parting soon unfolds. I
leave her with a book, smaller than
what you gift me with, Abba–friendship,
our hands- paddles we row together
regardless of soul’s temperature.
So today, I was going to sit here and read and sleep. God had other plans–like a spur of the moment visit from Megan. I was in total shock really and the minute I said yes, lies immediately starting swirling. You shouldn’t be doing this. You’re not feeling good. Blah blah blah.
I kept telling God, this is going to be turn out bad. Messy. I should be more put together. Look at my hair. I’m in my pajamas. I kept wanting to get mad, but I couldn’t.
She rings the doorbell. I think I need to rush but we both know that isn’t going to be happening. Her smiling face is all I see and I’m so tired, I kinda want to keep staring, but I’m too busy letting her hug me. And grab paints. And take my sketchbook and pens so we can sit outside.
And for the 3 hours I fight off the lies I’m not doing enough. Not enough. You can’t be a mess like all these paints or words you’re writing. They suck. That’s not good. They’re fine. No, they are not. Why are you talking so much about God? Must love you a whole lot if your energy is sapped sitting down. She’s over there laughing while you are weak. No one understands. Guess it’s you and God, huh? You’re crazy.
I kept staring in space or at Megan with a blank stare, because I wanted to dismiss all this crap in my head. And then I’m watching her paint and laugh/mimic this song and I’m thanking God she’s making me laugh even if it hurts. I’m thankful we can sit and do art things. And be together. I’m thankful she pulls me slightly out of myself, my over analytic nature. My wanting to give so much more than I can or sometimes want.
My word this year is receive. And I think a lot of that has to be in surrender. And if today showed anything, I still struggle majorly. Maybe not as much in my heart, but my head is nuts. I get something and immediately want to give something back. I immediately dismiss the gift and then beat myself to a pulp.
Like last night I saw this verse in proverbs 18: A gift opens the way and ushers the giver into the presence of the great.
And I’ve asked God, does this mean I’m (or whoever gives a gift) is ushered into Your presence? Did I miss it today? How many times have I missed it? I can’t give back what you give, so why do I try so hard?
Oh, and now this song plays.
“There ain’t no limitations to your amazing grace..” hmm.
Thank you for being my friend, Megan. And making me laugh. And taking in what I think is crazy but probably normal. Human.