i. a memory

the restlessness of a night tied into my hair, written into my eyes. peeking rain clouds seep into my skin, and i wrestle out of a tent. the air is cold. i find myself alone. so i gather sticks, the crunch under my feet even with careful precision. 

i build a tent of my own under the metal rack into the coals. there is no one to watch whether i succeed or fail, so i am content with struggling on my own. i blow slow and long, beckoning the flames to begin.

he awakens, and i glance up to see a tired, wild-haired face walking by. we murmur our deep good mornings. he walks off. another face emerges from his tent behind him not more than a minute later. normally early birds, but today is a late day for us all. the last day. good mornings again, but he leaves. i laugh to myself because usually i am the one watching their strong hands build this fire, but today it is me, and i feel kind of small.

but the smoke billowing from the small tepee i built is promising, and not much longer later, a flame starts up. before the boys are even back. i smile to the grey sky. Someone up there loves a small girl. 

x\

be strong and take heart

i woke up this morning with golden light seeping into my bones. you know how it goes, honey and freckles, you know how it goes. it is the relief of carbon dioxide from your lungs. it is the chance to start again. rejoicing comes in the morning. i laugh and rub my cold fingers against warm palms.
it has been a long fight.
the tips of my fingers became sore, and my vocal chords dived into a desert, and i was left with no words but bundles of letters i didn't know what to do with. when you are in a fight, there are things you cannot take your eyes off of. things you can't bear to lose.
but one day, you stand up and you realize that this has been a sharpening process. a growing process. you are no longer bones and fat, but your tendons and ligaments have found strength and are starting to take shape. a little rain comes and washes away the ash and you see His handiwork underneath a dirty surface. still a ways to go, but you saw His fingerprints engraved into your own.
it is hope where there was none,
and hope where you needed it most.

small heart.

i see you.

do not give up. He is with you.

you have grown

p.s. i'm so sorry i can't keep up with all the posts.

wait for me?

i'll be back when i can catch my breath. x 

i barely recognized you when you walked into the room.
taller. floofier. can i call you floofy? i picked that word up from a friend, so i hope you don't mind. it describes you strangely well. sorry! sorry, okay, i'll stop. but you know me, always laughing a bit here and there.

you are stronger, too.
i saw it in your hands. they roughed through your hair. they were wild as you'd grab the ball and go for the shot. i'd shake my head with a grin as if it was unbelievable, but maybe it was in you from the start. but it was a greater strength. more than mortal man.
it was simple.
you reached for the trash can the same time as i, as if we both knew that someone would have to pick it up, and we wouldn't mind to be the one.
that kind of thing comes from a selfless heart, who felt His palms rub against their own, and the healing and sweeping comes from there.

hey, old friend, my eyes laughed as i let go, welcome back.

you have grown, and you bear it well.

second of august

via pinterest

i. i woke up one morning,
     a song soft as hotel pillows and room temperature butter sitting on my heart.
it smelled entirely of hope. a little bit like pancake breakfasts and a waiter who gave you extra milk for free. a little more like shooting stars and jumping on the tramp. a lot like new beginnings.

ii. inner aspect to outer aspect. i wipe the sleep from my eyes,
    and maybe with a little childish hope,
wipe the sadness and a bit of pain off of the window in my chest.

iii. there is a green metal chair out by the wildflowers, the sun melting into it. 

   sometimes you feel like the moon who hasn't seen anything but clouds for days. so when you finally get to sit in the Sun, you fall asleep in the warmth of pure truth. 

        see? you who draw near to Him, He will draw near to you. 

iv. he lost his front leg not more than three weeks ago.

       but today he ran inside laughing. 

jehovah rapha. 

v. Hic est filius meus dilectus.