old wounds

i thought time had healed me…that the deep chasms of the past had settled into tired scars had settled into a few rough edges in my emotional memory.

but papers in the mail.

but demands of losing even the little i have.

but the glib assumption that this is, of course, just something that needs to happen…a mere formality…a matter of record.

and my saturday morning has darker skies and my coffee has added bitterness and my heart is heavier because there is weight to these opened wounds. there is burden to this sadness. there is mass to this sickness i’ve carried in my gut these past several days.

so i will go and speak for what i still have…for what i won’t let go of…for the hopefulness of future healing.

and i will remember the goodness of a faithful Father, the sweetness of a good woman, and the brightness of restoration as yet unhappened.

and these old wounds will not be my end.

becoming (easter eve)

listening to old pine as i peel potatoes for tomorrow’s dinner. the soundtrack of your sister’s wedding makes a perfect backdrop for my reflection of how far you and i have come. we are works in progress, you and i. not as we were…not as we will be…but reflecting the beauty of becoming.

every rough spot…every mountain top…every fumbly finger trying to find the shape of us…it is all becoming. it is all progress. and it is all beautiful.

i am stronger because of you in my life. i am bolder because of you in my life. i am more myself because of you in my life. my twoish tendencies find their place with you. my smile finds its curve with you.

we have joked about babies and picked out names, and it – if nothing else – brings me joy to think of having the rest of my life by your side. the backroads and discovered beaches and quiet mornings with coffee and smiles…all laid out in a future spent with you.

and, if we are becoming that…if we are taking the shape of us for the rest of our days…then i can breathe more deeply in the hopefulness of

fresh chances

and sweet blessings

and you.

Maybe

There are times when courage looks like letting go of something you desperately love…

something you deeply need…

with the hope that it will, in time, come back to you.

time

when is it time, I wonder,

to walk away?

to accept rejection not as a challenge

but as defeat?

to understand the unreturned sweetness

the absence of affection

the subtly cool response

as my cue to exit?

 

is it a lack of ability or a lack of inclination?

a measure of uncertainty or a deficit of desire?

as much as i hope it isn’t,

is now the time?

is the waiting no longer an act of

courage and adoration,

but a portrait of desperation and

foolishness?

 

has my time

come?

you never need…

About a year ago, I recorded my own version of one of my favorite songs: You Never Need Nobody by The Lone Bellow. It’s a song that combines so many aspects of love and relationship into one narrative. There’s passion, irritation, adoration, pissiness, devotion, self-pity, and a fair amount of unrequited love. Like I said, it’s got it all. Their original is, of course, vastly superior to mine…but there are moments of my home-brewed rendition that I love.

I woke up singing it this morning, and it’s been my go-to car tune all day. So, with a fair amount of apologies, I’m posting it here.

barely together

Lately, I have had this sense that everything in my life might fly off in a thousand different directions.

Like there is a thin veneer of wholeness on everything right now that looks happy and beautiful but is – in reality – terrifically fragile.

And I don’t know what to do about it.

I’m not even sure what to say next…

hazel eyes

I wrote and recorded a song today for my best friend…

I kinda adore her.

one sunday

There are some days I want to chronicle so I don’t forget them…so they don’t slip between the clumsy cracks of life, lost forever.

Sunday was one of those days.

Here, in my makeshift way, is a list of what was wonderful.

SISTERS: My sisters came to town for a visit. One joined me leading worship at church and it was a sweet reminder of how much I enjoy playing music with her. The other came to watch and sing along in the congregation, and it was a gift to look out and see her smiling face.

FAMILY: My nephew and niece and their little baby also came to church. It has been far too long since I’ve held a baby, and she fit in my arms in the most enchanting way. We all -sisters, nephews, nieces, and babies – went to coffee after church. The conversation was sprinkled with stories and laughter, and seasoned with just the right amount of caffeine and sugar.

FRIENDS: Sunday afternoon, I had the absolute pleasure of taking Hazel and her oldest daughter to dinner. Food, drinks, silliness, togetherness…they are the stuff that makes life worthwhile. The time with Hazel was especially sweet because things have been a bit rough lately due to some rather stupid moves I made. The healing is happening little by little…but wounds take time to repair.

Dinner together felt like mercy.

It felt like new chances.

It felt like one step closer to wholeness.

GOD: The whole day was a reminder of the joy and peace and provision that God allows to come into my life even though I don’t deserve it. I have such a knack for messing things up…for being unwise and petty.

But God is good even when I fail.

God is good even when I get temporarily lost.

God is good even when I forget what it means to be loving and gracious.

And, Sunday, God’s goodness was evident all over the place.

sweet, sweet song

You are so good to me
You heal my broken heart
You are my father in Heaven

You are beautiful my sweet, sweet song

This song has been on my mind and lips since I woke this morning…a proclamation of hopefulness and a breath of thankfulness.

When times are joyful, God is my beautiful, sweet song.

When times are sorrowful – whether I feel it in the moment or not – God is still my beautiful, sweet song.

He is good…all the time. He heals broken hearts and mends bruised spirits. He is a loving heavenly Father who invests Himself in us…shows Himself in our need…proves Himself in our weakness.

When I feel it…when I don’t…He is beautiful.

Lord, let me know that always.

Lord, let me sing Your song always.

rebuild…

Yesterday, at church, my pastor closed the service with a blessing. It’s part of every service…the passing of some specific idea or desire or prayerful aspiration. Based in Scripture, shaped through experience, uttered with power and hopeful confidence.

I texted him afterward and asked for a copy.

His response:

I wrote it on some scratch paper and ended up tossing it somewhere in the sanctuary…accidentally. So, I will attempt to say it now into the phone but some wording may be wrong. Feel free to change it however you like. 🙂

Now, I include his texted preamble because it says so much about him as a man…about his heart. My pastor is a man who knows about real life and real struggles. He is authentic and fallible and genuine and, at times, messy. He is a leader whom God has used in powerful and genuine ways to speak to me in painful moments and in seasons of joy.

I love that he wrote the blessing in the moment…scribbled on scratch paper much like the legend says Abraham Lincoln drafted his Gettysburg Address. And I love that, after having tossed the paper, he took the time to re-craft it for me…simply because I’d asked.

Here, as reconstructed by my pastor, is the blessing from Sunday morning:

May the Lord rebuild your life as you allow Him to restore it from the ground up.

May God give you rest and peace as you surrender all of your anxieties and worries to Him.

And, may you embrace who you are and who He is…the One who calls you His loved one…His beloved…His child.

Those words, based out of Psalm 127:1-2, spoke healing to me Sunday morning. They speak hope to me now. And, I hope, they do the same for you. You, who God calls His Loved one…His beloved…His child.