with You, I am a child

i sit here
and wonder if
I can celebrate
the fact I drew
a lion’s face.
I keep going
over & over
the fur & face
as if maybe with
a little more effort,
I can make it perfect
for you. Abba, remember
when I was young, drawing
flower after flower with less
life than I knew was out there?
I wanted to make someone
happy * now when I’m alone

fmf prompt: celebrate. So I’ve been drawing this today:

IMG_8278

I don’t know how I feel about it. I mean I drew a lion’s face, compared to all the doodles (flowers and stars) I drew when I was young. Throughout this whole thing, I’ve been like, GOD, IT’S A LION’S FACE!! EEEE! YES! why does it look so much better from far away?! I shouldn’t have done the outline in pen, even if I see the lines better..should have made the box bigger..

“Do you know what I see?” I hear in the back of my head, as I behold the mess of cray lines.

Process. I should celebrate the fact it looks like a lion…and forget perfection.

I went out of the comfort zone again& came out with this.

And while I’m all: I need to make it better! God is all: we spent more quality time together.

I always forget that’s what I really, really want. Because I felt this cool rush in my spirit, every time I said: IT’S A LION!! And was the best feeling.

never leaving

Saul sends message
for David–man after
God’s own heart,

I need a song
to soothe black
invading inside.

Please come
sing me melody,
he urged. The harpist

came beside
his friend,
even as we walk

through depression’s
valley, how faithful God
Is! Walking arm & arm beside

quiet water in pasture
where Love brings us.
Here we stand with light

burning not wrath
we so deserve—
mercy, mercy, mercy

pleading take
in our Healer’s
pupils dilated wide

with only goodness
give, s may these chords
I pluck, bring you before

His grace—

After that, whenever the bad depression from God tormented Saul, David got out his harp and played. That would calm Saul down, and he would feel better as the moodiness lifted. (1 Samuel 15:23)

This verse hit me today with a smile. I’m doing a 13-week study on David. so this is the fist I’ve read of him outside of Psalms (best book in the Bible, by they way ;)). While reading about how after Saul disobeyed God for the second time, taking cattle as a sacrifice for God, I was struck by even though God left Saul, He still showed kindness, friendship through David. This shows me even when you disobey Him, He doesn’t let you go.

a fooled warrior tempered by self-will

why have you
forsaken me,
my God?—holy
One of Israel
enthroned behind
clouded indifference
to my cries this day.
i am hellbent on
allowing split, scarred
skin ache upon this
heady pride, disabling
more than these bones.
i decided i’d take control—
ask the impertinent question,
is it too late? & on the other
line, a woman says no, you
must be looking in the wrong
place. i’m quiet, almost forgetting
her ear is pressed against speaker
waiting reply: i’ll have to look again.
& when i do, two options remain,
not one of them being still with you.
only two seasons, summer & spring,
begging : go on, move on now—

When Our Arms Can’t Reach, Our Voices Ocean Away

She apologizes.

Sorry, you are

a better friend

than I am.

She wishes

ten more hours

in a day, lavishing

poems, commets,

letters my altitude

rather than production

opening/closing curtains

before I can ask. May

we exchange heart

beside beat or two?

I looked up, eyes

closed, smirking.

Palms open-ended

question: is she serious?

I think of you, Jesus.

You’ve sat beside me,

feet dangling over

the beside, light

dim. I wander

thoughts.

our world

too loud

footsteps

making mark

on pavement.

Our flesh knows

not quick listening,

our mouths agape

self-talk—my obsessive

sharing poetry, music,

life grief I can’t articulate,

hope I’ve placed in momentary,

forgetting I cant grasp what was

never mine. Speech comes anything

but slow. I am hasty with anger,

spurting question after question,

statement after statement

Why is she gone? isn’t prevalent

as why am I afraid I’ll never wake?

Why can’t I relate- wanting shut myself

inside whitespace where breath is one.

I am no better friend , giving flawed

loyalty, emptying need to be heard,

seen because attention is selfish.

I want to share my secrets with anyone

with eardrums wide open, hand against

trembling. I know my life now

plays sad song montages of yesterday—

her underneath the windowsill, reading

Miracles, asking if I need a hand, after

I throw a tantrum because I can’t accept

undeserving smile when I turn child.

The way she curled herself into a mystery,

oblivious to people passing by, asking

if I was okay. If I was bored waiting for her

to find out who done it—the painter or someone else?

How she skipped to the end, though I would’ve stayed

til close, so she could stay lost, unhurried beauty

in lighted chaos.

When I sobbed, time

moving seconds closer to her peering

through the window after goodbye.

She kissed my head, asking you

to be my center, shh over my heart.

I’’m drinking a frappe, large enough

for my mind to sputter tired nonsense

until you place finger to my hungry lips.

Jesus, if I could board a plane to foreign land

she spreads your smile, imprinted absent

commotion, I’d echo this truth: a friend

loves at all times, regardless quantity,

the quality of love

through a screen,

reminds me I’m known,

unforgotten. Jesus

shared his life with those

we would deem unworthy.

Whenever you look in my eyes,

I am aware of my deep sensitivity,

him staring back at me.

My offering seems pitiful,

but oh Jesus, let your

arms wrap her in embrace,

erasing senseless apology.

Fall Out

After midnight, my body tingles.
The urge stronger than the tiny light under my door.

You’re alone in the dark.
Indulge your loneliness.
Dip down, get the sensation, firm grasp on love.

You don’t have a boyfriend you can call. Hear him say: I’d kiss you
if I was there, babe. I’d hold you
if I could, babe. Words you’d so easily snug yourself inside-

a wishing well, a dream, an almost
promise for your body, your head.
Your heart can’t take being denied, while your flesh gets fed again.

Desires aren’t a light up,
a smoke puff you let drag
you undesirably, to a grave
you’ve already been saved
from living under.

No, your heart desires
spending nights coming undone
by intimate conversation-
touching on days before,
here and coming.

A pause.
A breathe.
A silence.

I fall asleep,
each defiling thought
growing silent as dreams
take me high, kept under His wing.

Author’s Note: Published in the October issue of The Larcenist. I have extreme jolts of anxiety posting this. Reading back through, I see my heart tangled up in the truth of this. I’m most broken at night. My deepest fears, dreams, questions, doubts come out at night. Not that I’m not broken during the day, I’m just more painfully aware in the dark. I think we all are though. If though this is gritty, hard, and doesn’t feel like I wrote this at all, I can see how Jesus has begun pulling closer, when I start feeling trapped. Like when when I was up last with a billion thoughts wanting sleep, I read this: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart. (Isa. 40:11) I felt this overwhelming swell of His love for me. How He tends me to my bedside, when I’m all: “Hey, so I’m about to go down memory lane. I’m about to wonder, wander, and my ‘bah’ will be “why me?”

He whispers His love to me, will never let up until I believe. Even then, I doubt He’ll quit 🙂 He won’t for you either, whatever the issue may be. He’ll speak so tenderly, like a long lost friend you never really forgot.