Fragile

I've witnessed fragile. I've touched it, and felt its existence barely on my face. I've held it, and I've let it go. Fragile is precarious beauty, and shatters sometimes. Weathered and broken until the Restorer gently lifts each piece with the meticulous hand and soothes jagged edges with balm. Never the same... repurposed by Divine design. Wholly broken. Holy broken. ... and beautiful

Thirsty

"Please! Can we stop for a drink of water? Please!" The car motored on. Drifted smoke, pungent and choking fills each inhale. I am nine, and and never have I been so thirsty. I lay back against the hot vinyl seat... too parched for tears. I fan dirty haze, foul swirls and circles of smoke. The child hand is too small, and the cough hurts. Promises of "be home soon," fall flat and dull on nine-year-old ears. And the car motored on.

"Please, oh please, Father. I thirst." Never have I been so parched. Polluted by sin. Clouded by regret-filled choices, shame. World inhaled, choking away life Spirit-full. I am grown, but young, oh so young. I disengage from stench of world-full life, yet remain, one toe in the arid place. The mortal hand, too small to wave away. Choking hurts. And I thirst. And the world invites.

Jesus answered her, All who drink of this water will be thirsty again.

But whoever takes a drink of the water that I will give him shall never, no never, be thirsty any more. But the water that I will give him shall become a spring of water welling up (flowing, bubbling) [continually] within him unto (into, for) eternal life.

The woman said to Him, Sir, give me this water, so that I may never get thirsty nor have to come [continually all the way] here to draw.


John 4:13-15 (Amplified)

I am the woman at the well. I ask. And Jesus draws without vessel, without effort. He simply touches gently. I drink deep and slow. Hot, burning, cleansing tears spring forth and spill over refreshing the arid place.

... and I thirst no more.

Soil of Life

My hands tilled the soil today. My fingertips buried in the foundation of life. Knees, jean soaked and nails caked with life-giving Earth dust. Rarely have I considered the toiled element. Dirt.

And I consider His Word:

At the time God made Earth and Heaven, before any grasses or shrubs had sprouted from the ground—God hadn't yet sent rain on Earth, nor was there anyone around to work the ground (the whole Earth was watered by underground springs)—God formed Man out of dirt from the ground and blew into his nostrils the breath of life. The Man came alive—a living soul!
Genesis 2:5-7

Love You Forever

Worship music dims with the ring of the phone. My youngest grown son on the other end.

"How are you today?" I genuinely desire to know. This season's conversations come in snippets of time between his work and classes.

Not, "Doing fine, Mom." Not the voice with high energy of the ADHD, but the croak of, "Can you call the doctor? Not doing great."

I ask about fever, coughs, sore throat, and body aches. "I'm headed to your house now..." And I hear, "No. You don't want to catch this, Mom. Seriously."

... and pictures of bygone days slip into my mind and heart. Rocking fevered hot babies, chicken soup steaming and tea kettles whistling. Washing sweat-saturated sheets. And again, rocking fevered hot child. Never mind he is grown, my arms still long to care. Hands long to wipe the brow.

Still longing, I remember, Love You Forever. A book on the memory shelf. I hold it close, the cover smooth with wear, and I smile. I remember you. Silly book really, but it captures my remembering, yearning, mothering heart.

and I read...

If that great big man was really asleep she picked him up and and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while she rocked him she sang: I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living my baby you'll be. ~Love You Forever by Robert Munsch

Breath of God

Breath. The very source of life in the here, the now, the present. The key to existence in this world. Sighs of contentment, breathless joy of surprise and wonder, and gasps that take our breath away, each fulfill purpose of expression. Breath sustains, this breath gift.

And there is God-breath:

But it is the spirit in a person, the breath of the Almighty, that gives them understanding. Job 32:8 (NIV)

Eyes closed, I inhale deep. Desirous of understanding all that God wills. Like new birth, He breathes life anew.