Thursday, March 31, 2011

bask: to lie in or be exposed to a pleasant warmth

I really long to write something this morning. Up at 3:30---age has a way of waking me with pain. But the battle is won by me because I have found that rising early gives me the time I desperately need to connect with the source of life and pain. In that source is healing. A good cup of coffee helps tremendously too.

I'm out of a job. Staying at home and doing what I love--creating a home and attempting to build a family that is strong and connected to the Giver of life. For the first time in my life I feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be and doing what I'm supposed to be doing. Finances are desperate but my relationship with my granddaughter has blossomed beyond anything I could have imagined. God has brought others into my life and my heart that I would never before have allowed to get anywhere near my heart.

All children--broken children. They may be adults now but at one time they were all broken and forsaken children. Much like my own children. Maybe this is a do-over. If so Lord-give me guidance, wisdom and strength.

For so many years I resented having to care for someone carry the burden of responsibility. Now that I've been freed of my self-imposed codependent obligations of the modern day superwoman---I am overcome with a desire to help and care for those whom God has put in my life that are in need. I really do love to care for those in need.

But there is one child who is not a child. My stepson.....a precious soul who is tortured with anger and self-loathing manifested by a demon in the form of alcohol. The nurturer in me cries out and longs to mother him---but he is now a man.....a father......and I am raising his daughter. I believe in the circles of life----this one has a few gaps. At the very least, some disfigurations that prevent an orbital path that produces fruitful seasons of growth.

He is the seed that didn't sprout in season. The seed that lies dormant.

So I lift this precious life before You oh my Father. Please give him back the years the locust have eaten. Please demonstrate Your wonder and love to him in a way that he can not deny or turn away from.

from warmth
into cold

first growing
then old

from naked
then wrapped
and bound tight

cry of fear.........

not a season...
not a reason....
no sight

first soiling
....then toiling
days fade then

slow sinking
like cole
tortured soul

gripped by need
for the dawn
.....darkness stays on

hope dims
as need


tiny hopes
seeking Sun

into pools of poison
and lies


and exposed
by nature

but eruption
breaks earth and
finds Sun

finding One

who created the seed
......the longing
.....the need

to bask in the warmth
of the Sun

to Bask in the Warmth
of the Son

erupt SON

break the ground
bend the knee


No comments:

Post a Comment