Hand in my pocket and heart on my sleeve….

The biggest,  warmest hello to your much loved eyes
and even mucher loved hearts.
I’ve missed you…..missed  sending out my words to you and feeling them embraced and safeheld.
I’ve missed reading the words you say in such uniquely your expressions,
missed our front porch visits and the texture you bring to my journey
with the stories of your own.
I feel as if I’m back from a long travel to somewhere scary
where I had to leave my broken jeep beside the midnight river
and hike out barefoot and without reception.
I feel footsore and rattled and slowed down hard.

I’ve had so much to say that I couldn’t say anything at all.
But I’m gonna let the words trip out in bumps and starts now,
because it feels like time and if I wait until I can talk pretty
I may get stuck in the silence.

My hand hurts.  Always.  In the most noisy and sometimes searing kind of way.
My making hand – the one I’ve used for being me.
My writing,  arting,  planting,  pruning,  driving, doing hand.
And I’ve done the things medical and alternative
but it still feels like potholes in my ride each day
and there’s this fear that rides along -Who are you now like this?
And what are you going to do?

And I answer “still be me” and keep on walking
but the night sounds howl a little louder and the shadows make my jumpy heart race.
Because my loss of hand is not the storming down,
it’s just the how I know to ride the waves.
When life is hurting hard,  my doing-hand is what I use to shoo the sting away
enough to work it through,  to process,  to find a way to stay
when my feet want to run and help me hide.

And so into the chaos,  the ugly question creeps:
what if there isn’t enough to me without what I can do or show or make?
what if I don’t get a seat at the table
without what my hands can bring.
And it comes thumping around in my soul’s basement
that dark-corner question:  “who will love me now?”

Life has a way of making us look at the things
we fear may grab us from beneath
in the places where we’re leaning into rest.

(And aren’t we all learning how to rest in unrest?
We may have different tangles to navigate,  but perhaps we all show up to our stories
feeling capsized at times.)

So, yeah,  the waves feel high, I’m calling it adventure,
and ready to say my things. 
I’ll be here following the river;  come ramble awhile with me.

“Creativity comes from accepting that you’re not safe,
from being absolutely aware,  and from letting go of control.
It’s a matter of seeing everything – even when you want to shut your eyes.”
– Madeleine L’Engle

“When the night is holding on to me
God is holding on.”
– John Mark and Sarah McMillan

 

waterbreak winter…

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I’ll remember this winter
when I’m old  I believe,
will remember the changing tide and slow receding
of the rattle and roar of my own striving,
as  surrender threw open some windows
to waves I never saw coming
and in a feeling kind of way I heard it,
the deep down sound of my water breaking
and the building rumble of a tugging squeeze
giving birth to changing season in me

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It’s been a soft time in a hard place
and I’m riding the  contractions,
sometimes scary fierce and others playful wild
and resting when the swells are glassy,
trusting the Love that holds the  sea,
and yielding vulnerable as it’s shifting me.

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And I won’t shut myself to winter till she’s done,
won’t shoo and hurry her dormant way,
won’t despise it how she slows and stills
until her work is yes in me.

I’ll remember this one when I’m old,
and smile grateful tears for the pressure that’s making
some prints on my life
that I wouldn’t have wanted to miss.
Deeper in love with the oceans that hold me,
I’m coming alive to my heart.

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“The woman had laughed the hard times
into wine.”
-Ann Voskamp

Hey friend,  I wrestled a bit over this….whether to just post these images and write down some sweet stuff about winter and how it’s still pretty
and almost over and just hang on
or
whether to dive into the deep end of what I’ve been living
and splash around and try to put together words that make sense of it.
I dove.
Hope it doesn’t give you a headache:)