Like a skin
You are shedding slow
the pride within me –
not the, hey, look at me,
I got this! I’m fine! though
we both know internally
I act this way. You’ve steadied
me each time this last week I said, I need
your hand. Would you help out with this,
please? I need to go home – I don’t feel
good. I’m not sure if I said the last part,
but I remember her gentle reassurance
that it was fine if we went home and
watched Miranda on the couch.
All of these were different scenarios, but
each made me confront my fear of
each met with, yes, here! I’ll hook you up.
(Not sure those were exact words either).
I thinkthe wind is for you.
She cranked up the air conditioner and
opened up the windows. If it gets too
cold, let me know. I know she was cold,
but she was trying to cool me down while
I sang to distract myself from the pain.
Each time it was a reminder: Your grace is
all I need. Your power is made perfect in
weakness – my asking for
help/connection when I feel I least
deserve it, don’t know if I will be met
But You are here. You are aquatinted with
all my ways.
You know every word I will utter
before I speak it – the worry, the
fear, the joy, the mystery, You know it all.
Could You be this good, God?
so intimately I can’t deny the ways You
I want to see. And thank You at every thrill that finds me.
your tender haired girl
Ps. Seriously? That was fast. I’m pretty sure that’s Reba doing the kfc commercial. Ugh, it makes me miss grandma and the way we would watch Reba’s show, and grandma would say ‘Moron’ like Reba. I miss her, God. A lot. It made me laugh or smile every time. Grief isn’t fun. Especially when it hits out of the blue.