148

so here is everything: 

 

147

oh how i’m inspired.

 

146-b

the king himself made the palaquin..

how you involve yourself in it

 

146-a

who is this coming out of the wilderness…

maybe it is the center of me.

maybe i’ll explain it all later.

 

145

i felt such a disorientation from those words.  the way when someone second guesses your stance and then you believe it and search your heart for some darkness and then soak it all in condemnation and before you know it, you realize those who still try and throw their authority at you as soon as you come back around and they have no concept of discernment or wisdom and it leaves me broken on the floor…
and i am grateful i am going where i go…

because it is this place that surrounds me with your hope.   so now this overwhelming is not a hidden darkness or despair i seem to be searching for to get rid of..  i’m overwhelmed with love and the truth of i am loved from each cell in my body even though there is no one here holding my hand.
you have an emminent domain crossing right through my heart. 
you beautify the afflicted ones. you adorn them with beauty. you take pleasure in me. i make your heart happy.

i can’t even stand. this love supercedes everything..

 

145

i’m all butterfingers and twinkle toes.  forgive the interuptions but i seem to have misplaced my common sense. 

 

144

i’m waiting on words.. lots of words.  right now i am not at a loss for them, maybe more like a stand-still and let the verbal ability rest for some moments. 

so i just listened intently soaking up the needed voices that took up the whole of my night.

and it feels so good just to listen.

 

143

it is a field of wildflowers surrounded by music and an ocean breeze only a few feet away

i seem to tip toe around the issue of who i am..
i am well aware of me and the many depths that lie in this heart.  all of that has been discovered and found.
my years since moving to charlotte and past circumstances have granted me everything i know i want out of life and who i want to become..  in some ways i feel a little too connected to myself.
it is the person that an other will want me to be that i struggle finding..

it is so difficult being lonely- especially when i continually lay down that kind of dream to reach certain goals
but it has just been such a long time..

blessed is she who has believed that what the lord has said to her will be accomplished.. luke 1:45

 

142

and moving boxes are everywhere, but i have the best intentions to make this place home…

somewhere between all this cardboard and exhaustion there lies a simple thought- why cant i just have my dream of skyscrapers reality? 

but the again…  even the sparrow as found her home.. a place near your altar, oh lord almighty, my king and my god.  psalm 84.3

 

141

i ache. every bone.  it isnt just the stomach bug that knocked me over for 2 days.  it isnt the sinuses draining leaving me wishing for medication and sleep..  it is the ache.  and i heard the lyrics to the song i could never quite hear before..  so a dear thank you for ms. catherine feeny for expressing what so many nights like this have left me unable to express.

it goes a little something like this:

“I come home    And I find myself alone again   And I need your voice on the phone
To remind me of how brave I am    Cause I get scared at night and I lose my heart
I see faces in my window, I hear noises in the dark   I lose my mind between the front door and the car
But you cannot run from demons       They know just where you are

And I buy draperies to keep me in      Cause I fear my heart is beating on the outside of my skin    And anyone who wants to can look on in    They will find me in my solitude
Yeah, sometimes in my sin  

Cause these walls ain’t thick enough to keep out the sound     Of the ghosts who dance outside my door
They feed upon the ground     They stepped on from the heavens     They reach up from the mud
Their eyes are empty    They are looking for blood

There was a lady, she lived next door      She ain’t living anywhere anymore
No, she died slowly and full of pain      And I never saw her face and I never learned her name
But she visits me on some days    She asks me where I come from      She asks me why I stay

But she knows that I get scared at night and I lose my heart    See faces in my window, I hear noises in the dark    And I lose my mind between the front door and the car
But you cannot run from demons      They know just where you are      They know just where you are

And I come home     And I need your voice on the phone       I need your voice on the phone
I need your voice on the phone        I need your voice”

 

141

i dreamed again last night. 
it has been a while since that face entered my dreams.
it was just we two sitting in a diner
a waitress took our orders and spoke truth to our hearts.
i was bothered when she started saying my thoughts
but it didnt seem to bother you
she said what you thought you already knew…

we went to leave and danced a waltz

 

140

i feel like a million dollars has just been planted in my hands. 
a million $ would not only get me out of debt, but would be accounted for down to the penny in goodness.
of course my nieces would have college funds and there would be new cars for my parents and i would buy a house and take a vacation, but after the debt is paid off and a big ole roth is set up so in 40 years it’ll be a few million more; there will be a few other things done with that moolah too.  i know a few people who do amazing things with a few hundred dollars a month to help the hurting..  since they are wise with it- i would probably give majority of that money to them. 

i didnt get a million dollars today, but i got something else which i appreciate more than the money.  i found myself today.  there on the corner of market and water smoking my vanilla pipe appreciating the tobacco i was always too religious to entertain before, sitting to sit and enjoying the savoring of something.  it could have been an ice cream cone or something i would be knitting, whatever it was had me still and focused and i saw a place in me once forgotten.  the more i try and relax into spontaneity the more reserved i seem to become.  i wasnt quite sure if that was failure or dissapointment that silliness all too suddenly reveals.  and the truth is- i am dissapointed.  with my whole heart dissapointed.  aching has taken away the naivity and replaced it with caution and my eyes seem tired for one so young.  but today, for few moments, i breathed in the perfect blend of spice and that trademark salty breeze with a hint of gardenias in the air and i was young and unwounded with grace in her pipe. 

evolution and change will indeed happen as long as i keep evolving and changing and this isnt meant to be introspective as much as it is coming out…  my point is- i recognized myself in the mirror for the first time in years.

 

139

and i am sitting, on the very floor,  in the very building, in the very place of which i was born. and it is here that the river runs by it and meets at the mouth of the oceans roar- there is salt in my veins and ocean water in my lungs from decades of breathing it in… the curves of the beach and the rip and rise of the tides have never not been home.  but this heart which feels like i am taking everything i can grasp with my hands and jumbling it all together knows i can’t sew stripes the way betsey ross does.  and while a passion to own is a wonderful thing, i think i would mess it all up if i was given the opportunity.  so i figured i’d give catastraphe a chance and see how much it ruins my dress.  it isnt like i havent lived among the ruins of sand castles anyway.
i didnt mean to mess everything up before anything could ever even happen, i just don’t know how not to.

 

139

where oh where does one go to enter reality?  i can never remember if the red pill or the blue pill or if there are any more pills i am forgetting about get me out of this land of fantasy..  after all, this can not truly be what everyone else feels, in this heightened place of every little day an overload of emotion and numbness..
creation and spokes in the wheels on the trips to the market place where i go to get my essential oils to match these numbed feelings and i wonder if i can just step outside of the carriage for a little while.  maybe go see something dangerous for my self.   feel with these fingertips the burn of the sun and the chill of antartica’s iceburgs because my curling iron has lost its’ heat and i’ve used all the ice in the freezer freezing beverages and things like that.   maybe some north and south winds can come and blow breezes on me since the east wind blowing over the atlantic no longer has an effect on me though my hair and my dress seem to dance in its’ winds and yes, these things scare me the way that things bringing change scare me, the way that sudden, abrupt and it is all coming to quickly scare me..  i am not frightened by the things that go slowly-gentle as a dove wise as a serpent…..  
maybe if everything entered stage right instead of stageleft.. maybe if i touched the stove burners i could feel.  maybe the light will shine right through me this time.  maybe the romance will woo me this time.  maybe i’ll fall in love sometime soon and maybe it will be someone who loves me too.  maybe the knowledge of books will enter my mouth and pages won’t seem so bland like they have.   

where oh where does one go?

 

138

i never ever had a taste of what is to come, sorta like hindsight in reverse i suppose.
maybe the marriage proposal or the opportune times that blow kisses and flirt without reservation happen to leave me nauseaus for other reasons than besides what i hope for.. 
the stomach churned over a few times and that glass of wine didnt keep me distracted enough to ever leave that table until i couldnt take it anymore.. 

not one measure of hope is left hovering over the atlantic tide-but i seem to be floating here anyway, just drifting in the empty sea while the sail boats roam the currents.  you did, you did YOU DID.  i know you did.  i would argue it eternally.  as if it would make a difference now.

i never wrote stories or psalteries without a heart beating each word of it..  but i remain saddened by the idea of failure in its most realized state, i have failed to believe reality.  just because eyes say something does not mean it is truth does it?  the windows to the soul must have been cloudy with soot that year.  fortunately though, spring rains just washed everything away leaving a crystal clear finish for the cynic to see all as it really is.   hindsight…  proverbs3:5

 

137

i truly wish i held an opinion about the circle i have melted myself into..  the way we smoked cigars on the shore while thinking about how everything comes full circle just got me tired of thinking..  and no, i will not be living my dream this day, nor any other time soon that i can foresee.. but what if, i mutter while hoping these words do not actually form themselves off the tip of my tongue..  what if, it is someone else’s dreams needing reality that i may be stuck here for.  what if, the other world around the corner will never be mine to dive into??  what if.

once the allergic reaction kicked in and i meditated there with swollen lips and ears from listening so intently trying to stuff so much of what i missed out on of a texas sized hearted friends life and now rushing to relax into this new groove i’m caught up in..
as silly as this sounds, i have never been put in my place like that before..  never. 
it may just be tonights circumstances talking but i truly wonder where the romans sleep in rome.

 

136

honey, honey, i feel separated from you.  it seems difficult not to when i doubt we’ve ever met.  but it is my heart on that hidden shelf in the back of the pantry beside the flour and the sugar that seems to be the object of such scorn these days..
i feel hardened the way things left out in the air feel and it is my own doing.  i do not know the way to be softened is anymore.  i know what it feels like and what it is that softens a heart.  but i can’t seem to get one foot in front of the other for the softening.
i feel criticized for having an opinion, not necessarily for expressing it, but just for thinking it.  it has put me in a predicament and times like this, it would be more convenient if i was just a dumb blonde who didnt care about development, quantum physics or ezekiel 9 and 10.  but i care. 
i feel that all of this knocking on doors to see what will open has caused the audience on this side of the door to point fingers.  and i am so sorry to offend but i have no way of knowing what is mine except i have your voices telling me it is not.  well thanks for the revelation, do you mind telling me which door it is because i don’t recall you being around the last few times i walked through the right ones.
i feel critical myself.  and it is am ugly shade of nasty on me. 

 

i’ve never really tasted of that all to wonderful thing of being delighted in.  but it is a good time to be removed from the wall and stuck in a drawer where i can learn to be softened again.  there is plenty of time for all of that silliness and glorious moments later.. much later.. 
maybe soon time will be in my favor.

 

136

and it is really such an imposition to be the one in the way of things..
let the other daughters have their fun in the sun while i remain in the son and listen
to everything worth hearing while allowing wisdom to tell me about knowledge and buildings
so when the time is right, i’ll step out into this light and take my seat standing bowed…
it is so easy to be used,  a convenient soul in the right place at the right time
and all the while, i’m yelling, you’ve got the wrong girl until you’ve let go of any other dazzling one
well, i may have been made whole, but i’m not a temporary fix to the leak in a heart
and i decided long ago when the last time i would be compromised was-
and that glass table with the black chairs housed much more than dinner time tears and realized fears.

i won’t be the one to block the light of the sky over any seeking sons
and though i may be as rare and withdrawn as large stones of shelter in a green forest of hope,
this phenomenom happens to be of value which even the most dazzling daughters seem to walk past..

no less than a thousand picnics and quiet wanderings with a blanket, sweet tea and an open book of psalms will ever do such a secret justice for this daughter.

 

135

oh if only there were words.. i would spill letters on this screen so quickly that i would have no time to think about the nonsense, it would all come out unfiltered, a rambunctious child that i am.  no, younger than that.  but there are no words.  there are no thoughts.  there are just feelings and flutterings roaming around inside me- too content to escape from their roaming to come out just yet.   and all the secret messages and hidden meanings i’ve been dancing around in for so long, no longer linger the way psalms and psalteries do.. 

 

134

i feel as though i should elaborate on the adventure i am about to partake in.. but i wont.  this season is mine for the taking and i am relishing it like a glass of wine after an evening in my favorite location curled up next to a fire on a cool night.  there have been many feelings lately, contentment, peace, joy, excitement, etc, etc.. 

there isnt enough in me to speak at the moment.  i seem to have just enough to soak it in but have hundreds of questions just because i want to learn.  gah i want to soak everything up like a sponge and experience everything like a foreigner- go plant myself in a new place where romance blossoms off my fingertips and everything is more colorful than spring.  it will be my own technicolor world called august.

everything that covers me must remain comfortable, because while this dreaming resonates, i’ve been hidden under the soil to expand and break open far beneath the surface. 

 

132

was i the only one that felt that wind? 
it began this morning with you in my mind carried over from the night before..  you had me in samuel with the twenty-something odd prophetic words being spoken to saul down to a t..  which only reminds me, you created me down to a t.   i felt a bit outside myself today- the way that a letter is read without seeing the face of the one to speak it, i felt only half there. fully alive, just not giving the fullness to the world while the wind was in my hair. 

 

133

everything aligns here, where it isnt my responsibility to take over, but where the maternal in me wants them whole.  so i thought about it long and hard on a sandy beach barefoot for miles, when i had left church early just to think for myself-    i feel as though this is not a hasty thing, stepping down to build another up withdrawing only to be drawn closer to the priorities in front of me now..  the hearts of the hurting leave me aching and i’ve been selfish too long to refrain from giving.

 

131

so i’m hungering for something different in this heart.  something fresh and overwhelming and that creeps in like a windy day in spring.  i am having a hard time just sitting and meditating on everything wonderful i can access with just a step forward..  i really just am feeling lazy and expect for everything to come to me instead of venturing into the unknown..  this is so wrong!

there are some changes coming and even then, i think there are more dramatic changes then just what i am planning to happen..  here is what i do know: 

1. i am moving late june. 
2. i have been dreaming again..  crazy things, but right on things i never could have thought of!
3. i am anxious for change.
4. there are certain things in my life which i have cut off and had enough of which means pruning has occured and new must shoot out of those places.
5. i have no clue what is going on!!

all these things=my mind is about to need to submit because i feel the need to know whats going on..

 

guacamole and olives

so martial was right.  i am expecting too much.

i think everything gets an expectation from me-and that is too a fault.  i tend to label things before things can evolve into what they will become and that is probably very, very wrong.  it has kept me from things which i have regretted later but it has also helped me out alot too.  i have been proven wrong many times, but then again, in the end, the gut instinct, not my pre-conceived notions, tend to be accurate.

case in point:  guacamole and olives.
guacamole i was fearful of until last year just because the whole green mushy avacado thing intimidated me..  olives just looked and smelled nasty and i knew they would be nasty..   i had a pre-conceived notion about that guac.. thank ya jesus i was wrong about that.  but i was highly accurate about the olives and even tasted it mulitple times and different types just to make sure..

so maybe i am dancing around the underlying issue using food references as a safety measure but that is ok.

 

130

and everything comes out open and exploding and i’ve got memories of former years begging me on.

come glory, shine..