What if...?

Lately I've been overcome by fear and anxiety.  The 'what ifs' of living in a ruthless world have been hunting me down and strangling my contentment to the ground.

Love is vulnerable.  I could lose those I love in a heartbeat, in an instant. In fact, the very things I most take for granted (my home, my family, my health) can be snatched away.  Right now.

I've been overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of despair and uncertainty that this world offers as its foundation.

Wait a second, don't I believe in a good God?  Yes.  Doesn't He turn all things good?  Yes.  He doesn't allow suffering in our lives does He?  Sometimes.  That doesn't make sense.

So as a Christian, once I believe in God, everything will be ok right?

But He never promised it would be easy, or perfect, or well- that my life and journey would in any way go as I planned.  At all.

I have so little control of our circumstances.

But this, THIS truth is like gold to me.  Found in Joshua 1:9.  Do you know what is better than guaranteed perfect outcomes?  Perfect wealth and health?  Better than a guarantee of having no sickness, no disaster, no loss, no death, no (insert hardship here):____________?  Do you know what truth is better than anything this broken world has to offer?

I will tell you.
In a poem.

We'll call it "Ever felt...?"
_________________
In the alley,
far from home,
lost and hurting
in a place unknown.

Broken, beaten
by death's blows,
lonely, hidden
where no one knows?

Heart is aching and
throbbing with fear,
anxious, betrayed
no one is near.

Abandoned, forgotten,
stolen away,
ravaged and abused,
left in dismay?

Oh hollowed out woman
Oh child left in the dark,
Oh spent, wearied wounded
Oh broken lonely heart.

In all the dark places
Where wind, rain & woe
rattle the windows
and flatten you low.

In all the deep valleys
while swallowed by pain
when bruised and beaten
by life's ruthless terrain.

One promise alone
will be the flickering light,
will shoulder the weight
of this endless cruel night.

Wherever you are,
in the places unseen
whatever has happened
how ruthless and mean.

(here it is!)

My God, He is with you.
You are never alone.
His love and His comfort
Is your new home.

When all is uncertain
and the very ground gives way
Cling to Jesus, your only savior
in every breath, of every day.

No hurt is too heavy,
No fear is too strong
His arms, they will surround you
All the night long.

Be comforted and healed
Though life's hardness remains
When everyone else leave's you
He will stay.
____________

There you have it.
I was wandering around (internally) lost and confused again because I was looking at my circumstances.  Life is going to be hard.  I will experience disease, loss, death, and will leave this life covered in mud and mess.

But my gracious God came into the mud with me and will stay with me the whole way.

All praise is due Him.

Cleaning the Closets

I have written random poems, reflections, rants and ramblings that are crammed into computer folders.  They are hidden away, shoved behind a closed door marked "writings."  I've decided to fling wide the doors of my 'closet' and air these collections out.  

Who knows:  maybe I'll find a treasure. Maybe some of these wrinkly messes will bless others. Or, maybe they're back there for a reason.  Help me clean out my closets.  

I'll be posting some writings.  Let me know what you think!  If I suck at poetry, let me know (gently).   Let's see what is back there, dusty in a corner, ignored and unfruitful.

Here's the first one. It's probably not my best, it's probably cheesy, but here it is. [You'll note that when I wrote this I only had "4 limbs" to mother but this amount has doubled!  If I were to re-write it I would add an additional paragraph about 2 year olds, there would be more mention of laundry, and the hum of a dishwasher and a crying baby would be somehow heard above the beating drum of my predictable rhymes].

Just Another Day

I awake, get dressed, and fight the fatigue

a little boy greets me, running at full speed.

Smiling and talking 100 miles per hour,

“tractor, truck, cookie, train, cake, and tower.”

Breakfast and dressing, diapers, and tag,

dishes, and laundry, one more dirty rag.

Rooms to be organized, owies to kiss

4 limbs that want wrestling, an appointment to miss.

I groan and I sigh, “If only today,”

“could be something different: extra-ordinary,” I say.

“No. It’s just another day.”

But then I think upon that statement and wonder how it could be

that I’d want more than my life, even at its same speed.

Food in the pantry, roof overhead,

clothes for our covering, sheets for our bed.

A husband and father who works, receives pay

then comes home to kiss me at the end of our day.

Our nation's not at war, our health: intact.

Our family is supportive, our wealth: a fact.

Some have no peace, no hope in the divine

And me? I have both. Ingratitude is my crime.

How can I possibly complain in remorse

that today is simply ordinary, a typical life’s course?

Instead:

I’ll choose joy and be thankful once more

for the balls thrown right at me, and food on the floor.

I’ll laugh at the experience of moments like these

I’ll smile, and I’ll savour, and I will this breath seize.

I'll awaken to my life, the one that I hold

it is fragile, it is blessed, it’s a mystery to unfold.

Even when I wonder what life is like ‘out there’

as I stare out the window and feel it’s unfair:

I’ll remember to praise the Giver before this day ends.

because even if this day’s ordinary, God did for me send:

Hope for my future in chaos and pain

a savior, His presence in the dark, dreary rain.

Provisions, protection, Christ: my hope and my source

And He is the ‘extra’ in every ordinary days’ course.