Weekly Photo Challenge #2: Glow

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My Book of Uncommon Prayers: These Frail Threads

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I don’t want to be naïve again, speech peppered with Praise the Lord’s and God Bless You’s, and other Christian slang, as if by filling in the blanks I could sanctify the moment.

I meant well.

There are elements I wish I could reclaim—the idea that God would intervene if I could muster enough faith, the idea that God would love me more if I kept more of His rules.

Always.
Simple. Kind of.

I would love to get back to the uncomplicated worship where I knew God was big, powerful, and good, and that somehow my weak words meant something in His kingdom economy, that his gifts freely given actually changed things—changed lives.

Even mine.

But things don’t always turn out as expected. The right key doesn’t always fit in the lock; and though I still believe, my belief is tangled and mangled with shaky hopes and sanctified suspicion.

The strength of will is not always armor enough when facing a cosmic battle. And inspiration and revelation once cavalierly received have slowed to a trickle in the murkiness of time, trouble,

and desperation.

Cataracts of soul have dulled even further the glass darkly explanations, and my longing for more drives me to my knees.

Can I have the wonder back? Can I feel again past the numbness of mind and heart? Oh, Lamb, Oh Lover, Oh Rescuer, save me. Let me feel again what it means to be connected to eternity with these frail threads of confidence and leave the doubt of this dirty life behind.
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Psalm 86:1-7
Bend down, O LORD, and hear my prayer;
answer me, for I need your help.
2 Protect me, for I am devoted to you.
Save me, for I serve you and trust you.
You are my God.
3 Be merciful to me, O Lord,
for I am calling on you constantly.
4 Give me happiness, O Lord,
for I give myself to you.
5 O Lord, you are so good, so ready to forgive,
so full of unfailing love for all who ask for your help.
6 Listen closely to my prayer, O LORD;
hear my urgent cry.
7 I will call to you whenever I’m in trouble,
and you will answer me.

A Now To Be Breathed

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Sights of water, washing over my thirst, giving armchair rest to frenetic thoughts and long to-do lists, and

smells surround of seaweed and brine, lifting the clinging darkness to dissolve into color and life

sounds of water lapping and crashing and yellow-legged gull calls, reaching out to grab my curious patience, so to lean closer and stay longer and

it is a now to be breathed and stored for the filled and furious days ahead.

As if in a Dream

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I look through my own grid, and I’m not sure how to see differently.

I know just how you feel–

well, not really. I can imagine walking in your shoes,

but truth is I don’t. I can imagine feeling what you feel,

but truth is I can’t. Small wonder we feel the separation and division strongly,

but so often

so alone.

And that warm, fuzzy unity is an out-there goal, a hope,

but

until I am you, I walk as if in a dream.