Untamed

I imagine heaven untamed

barefoot running over pine needle rocky trails

nature strobes through leaf canopy ceilings

fiddling daisies cover miles

beautiful weeds teaching us to treasure the rejects

I climb a mountain walking on my hands

toes tickling the sky, tap-dancing Your celestial floors

freshly hatched doves perch on my heels

waiting to unzip all fear and fly free

molting their symbol of peace to become it

where river swans can be counted

while their beauty is unbound by numbers

music playlist of Lauren's silly lollipop lip play songs

when she was three and dolls preferred operettas

beautiful nonsense where we name our toes 

Philangia, Phil, Philbert, Philly cream cheese, and Hank

Where deepest calm floats like moss on the surface,

Your current rushing underneath dancing glass,

I chase it, as we skip on the water like rocks together

No sinking Peter fisherman stories, no storms,

no leprechauns, rabbits foot, good luck charms needed

only gold-tipped page promises fulfilled and smiling right at me

surprises at every turn of the eye, lift of the head, 

cup of the ear, touch of the tip,  bud of the taste,

swinging rope willow tree pendulum

now unhalted by big brother threats

safety net chasm of faith transformed, 

we leap and laugh in the bouncy house of truth,

tight rope wind embraced as we fall into delight, unhindered,

falling is flying

we dip and glide over all the hungry, desperate places, 

sprinkling food and joy like pixie dust

full-bellied sheltered smiles returned

but then I wake up 

without wings

disheartened, I choose

to trust the dream

untamed

"First this: God created the Heavens and Earth—all you see, all you don’t see. Earth was a soup of nothingness, a bottomless emptiness, an inky blackness. God’s Spirit brooded like a bird above the watery abyss..." Genesis 1:1-2 (msg)

“Earth's crammed with heaven...
But only he who sees, takes off his shoes.”
― Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Aurora Leigh

Vision

imagine white fluttering above this world
falling below in droplets as we trudge together
avalanche grace we ignore as we lumber, eyes in the mud
a walking hibernation
dreaming of some story of light and kindness looming
baffled, I scribble to point up
praying they trip over my sordid hallelujah chicken scratch
eyes opening
like hope hatching
and see the sun
...even if it makes them squint
warm them

To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some. -The Apostle Paul   1 Corinthians 9:22 

"I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything ... C. S. Lewis

Your Road

Our Road Trailer from Granger Community Church on Vimeo.

Our ancestors charted the course

road upon road of precise measure

bridges, tunnels, super highways and cul-de-sacs

But these roads are so much more than gravel, concrete, dirt and asphalt,

Our road becomes the unacknowledged witness

to the gritty moments in our wanderings on this earth.

These roads know the first hopeful steps of a toddler,

They caught the trickling blood from our knees

On the day dad let go of the bicycle seat,

They observe our first games of tag and catch,

The forbidden boundaries framing the safety in our fresh-cut yards,

Seeing us lean in for our first kiss, venture out that first night in the dorm,

The crossroads of adulthood, where choice and freewill,

Blur the map and the destination seems to disappear.

Roads that watched our good night kisses

are the same that hold us up as we run away from home.

The crossroad moments, where choice and freewill,

Blur the map and the destination seems to disappear.

Our road endures much as we sculpt it with our bustle to and fro

Potholes form, rocks fall, cars slam through guardrails,

Delays, detours, death in the family.

Highways with no exit ramps in site

Sudden twists and turns without slowing down,

Or worse yet, someone else behind the wheel,

Our life in their hands

And we wonder as we wander

How did we get here?

Some roads can be ugly, ominous, with sharp curves ahead.

still, they speak of progress and searching,  

as we pursue meaning, find connections,

crave adventure, or long for home.

As we run this course before us, we hope for a safe spot to rest.

Yet we long for momentum,

Crave both freedom and direction, purpose and peace.

We pave our own way toward or away from something or someone.

The map leading the way

Suddenly appears more like a spider’s web

Wounded and confused, we ask

Where do we turn? 

Then You whisper "Follow me" and...

A new horizon stretches before us

beautiful, promising, full of possibility.

Risk with a rush, void of fear, for You lead the way

We embrace and embody our mission

taking steps toward You together.

We will take Your message of hope to the unreached, 

the hurting and the marginalized.

We will follow You.  

For this is 

Your road.

“A line can be straight, or a street,

but the human heart, oh, no,

it's curved like a road through mountains.”

Tennessee Williams

 “You were all called to travel on the same road and in the same direction, so stay together, both outwardly and inwardly.” Ephesians 4:4-6

“And how blessed all those in whom you live, whose lives become roads you travel; They wind through lonesome valleys, come upon brooks, discover cool springs and pools brimming with rain! God-traveled, these roads curve up the mountain, and at the last turn—Zion! God in full view!” Psalm 84:5-7

“Prepare God’s arrival! Make the road smooth and straight! 

Every ditch will be filled in, Every bump smoothed out, 

The detours straightened out, All the ruts paved over. 

Everyone will be there to see The parade of God’s salvation.”  

Luke 3:5-6

Delicious Ambiguity

balanced on one foot, I am teetering, breath held for the signal
like Isrealites who watched the clouds and fire
teaching their children to trust the sky Painter
Israelite teenagers rolling their eyes
aw, mom, we're moving again?
but then they see the billowing cloud,
like hands reaching, not to demand, but to invite
the fire just ahead as they kick stones
walking by their mothers' side
in the cool of the day
there must have been a rush
the first historical thrill ride
fearing the lack of control
nausious on the sharp turns
swallowing on those slow-click moments
festivals with a priest who enters with a rope tied around his ankles
leaning back with the incline
with just enough time to catch a breath
You settle in a tent, ancient camping trip
with camp stories of Exodus told around the fire
And Your just hoping to be near your kids
as they warm up under the stars.
Would I grab the cross bar of that ride, white knuckled,
eyelids closed like a fist, holding my breath and bladder
fear fetal position, head in hands, missing the view
or do I scream, laugh, and raise my arms
at even the scary parts in the story
knowing Daddy's arms are waiting
Lord, pry my hands from the bar
when all I've known and comfort zones
are left in the dust as I follow You
in the cloud and the fire
with cane-tapping trust in Your eyes to see
To find joy in these click, click teetering moments
trusting the designer of this ride
and both the warmth and danger of the fiery storyteller
Who just wants to draw us close.

"On the day the tabernacle, the Tent of the Testimony, was set up, the cloud covered it. From evening till morning the cloud above the tabernacle looked like fire. That is how it continued to be; the cloud covered it, and at night it looked like fire. Whenever the cloud lifted from above the Tent, the Israelites set out; wherever the cloud settled, the Israelites encamped." Numbers 9:15-17

“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next.
Delicious Ambiguity.”
― Gilda Radner

"I will lead the blind by ways they have not known,

along unfamiliar paths I will guide them;

I will turn the darkness into light before them

and make the rough places smooth.

These are the things I will do;

I will not forsake them." Isaiah 42:16

Kids Again

Kids Again
30 years ago...
Joking dad in his speckled turtle neck and oddly patterned sweater
lying underneath the tree to see the star lights hidden in the evergreen
Toasty coffee breath stories snuggled close under a canopy of pine
Mom's earrings jingle belling around the kitchen, pausing for hugs and kisses
humming songs from the Christmas Eve service
and the promise of Lazzy Bear waiting in the wrapping and ribbon
16 years ago...
the world was filled with romance
When a boy dressed like a man with cheeks of red
Got down on one knee with a question, a promise, and a ring
blue carpet living room on Harvey street filled with family
and a question
Hidden inside an ornament shaped like a little country church.
and the promise of "happily ever after" waiting in a ring of gold
10 years ago on Christmas Eve
The world was filled with joy
When a two week old infant was the best present under the tree
When gifts didn't matter and the only unwrapping involved diapers,
Soft pink satin ribboned blankets or boxes of baby wipes.
and the promise of purpose in 2 blue eyes that needed me
5 years ago...
My little girl sat in my lap in her princess nightgown and kitty slippers
While her daddy, that boy turned man when we grew up together,
assembled a Cinderella castle when he is still her only prince
and the promise of the baby Jesus story is read to her wide eyes.
over 2000 years ago
A weary girl on a donkey found her way to a stable
You became man in a manger filled with hay under a guiding star.
You came into our homes to be with us under Christmas trees
To be the reason the ring of Gold won't bend or break
To become a baby so we could love ours better with You
To carry out the best happily ever after story ever told
and the promise of the cross and a stone rolled away.
You wrapped in our hearts waiting under the tree.

Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign; 
Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, 
and shall call his name Immanuel.
(Isaiah 7:14)

"It is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas when its mighty Founder was a child Himself." - Charles Dickens

Tumbleweeds and River-side Trees

The temptation of tumbleweeds beckons us all,
Rolling and bumping like the cursed eight ball.
Trying butts in to steal Trusting's turn,
Concealing the danger like a snake fern.
Lord, let me be that River-side tree
Ever-sipping the stream traced back to the sea.
The roots are unseen, but I can feel you there,
Like the steady creek of a rocking chair.
Though the stream is tiny and the sea far away
I will believe in the sea in the drought of this day.

"God's Message: "Cursed is the strong one who depends on mere humans, Who thinks he can make it on muscle alone and sets God aside as dead weight. He's like a tumbleweed on the prairie, out of touch with the good earth. He lives rootless and aimless in a land where nothing grows. "But blessed is the man who trusts me, God, the woman who sticks with God. They're like trees replanted in Eden, putting down roots near the rivers - Never a worry through the hottest of summers, never dropping a leaf, Serene and calm through droughts, bearing fresh fruit every season." Jeremiah 17:5-8 (Msg)

"I ask not for a lighter burden, but for broader shoulders." – Jewish Proverb

The "S" Word (dun, dun, dun)

Three concentric circles
Orbit in the merry-go-round
Center circle usurped by dizzy, haughty eyes
Paper towels defiantly crumpled on counters
6 steps away from the open-mouthed trash can
But my universe is inside out
Backwards, inverted, on the flip side.
It takes effort to complete the stunt
in the comfort of control.
A place for everything and everything in its place.
Messes hiss like insults from hecklers in the home.
Building security piece by piece
With the bricks of past let-downs.
My blueprints replacing Yours
This way I don't have to look at each brick
and remember Who formed it from dust or a rib.
I just lump them into one huge mass
Of generalities, exaggerations, judgments.
Beating my head against a wall I built.
Thus the tightened tone, the strained eyes,
The pursed lips that meet like prison bars.
Lord, save me from this culture-created view of femininity
From magazine report cards and sitcom rolling eyes
Mold me in to the women, the wife, you made me to be
Breath life into this rib, from dust, once again.

"While it may be totally foreign to most of us, the male need for respect and admiration--especially from his woman--is so hardwired and so critical that most men would rather feel unloved than disrepected or inadequate." Shaunti Feldhahn, For Women Only

"I don't let women take over and tell the men what to do. They should study to be quiet and obedient along with everyone else." 1 Timothy 2: 11-12

"Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord." Colossians 3:18