river.

June 23, 2008 § 1 Comment

My prayer room today was a river.  I dare you not to sing another song about the river of God until you’ve gone swimming in a river.  There’s something about the current of a river that will wash your soul into a place of peace that is much more than my puny rhetoric.  Try it.

 

I went for a long, hot walk and then just jumped in the Brazos River behind my mom’s house.  Despite all the silt and sticks, it felt clean.  I laid on my back and my Chacos made my feet float and before I knew it, the current had carried me farther than I meant it to.  I stood up, but the river pushed and prodded me, trying to sweep me off my feet again.  I started thrashing my way back to my entry point, but made no progress.  The river was insistent that I go where it wanted me to.  I swam against it with all my might for what seemed like forever, and then I took a break and stood up again.  The water was only up to mid-calf.  I laughed–so did He–and spent the rest of the afternoon stomping upstream and then floating back down over and over.  I could only sit still if I dug in my feet.  And even then, crouched underwater, I would find my arms floating into the current, pulled by the river toward a destination it was sure they would want to go toward, also.

 

I’ll let you draw all the parallels.  For me, they were profound.  I felt like Jesus was flirting with me.  Don’t get weirded out.  If you had heard the fish jump that I heard, and turned and seen nothing there, you would have felt flirted with, too.

 

 

 

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elbows.

June 21, 2008 § 1 Comment

So.  I’m here.  And you’re there.  [Unless you’re reading this, Mom…in which case, you’re sitting right by me on the couch.]  It feels like not much has changed since I’ve been away, except all the carpet is torn up in the living room and in its place is an expanse of huge, beautiful tiles that make my voice echo-ey. 

In some ways, I feel about the same, too.  Still a little girl in a big world, hoping to stumble upon some roots…crusty, gnarly, intertwined roots that insist on having me stay in one place and grow very tall and bear delicious fruit (Jeremiah 17).  But also different.  Less restless and ravenous.  More longing.  Like looking into a sunset and loving it, but wanting to be IN it.  Wanting it to be in me.

 

Man, one thing’s different: I can’t quit writing in fragments.  Read the above again.  Where are all the complete sentences?  Gosh, that degree in writing got me nowhere.  Six months down the road and I’ve forgotten how to put a subject and an object together in a meaningful way, and I’m applying for jobs in everything from healthcare to housekeeping.  🙂

 

 

 

I’m so grateful for you.  How did I get so lucky to be me and have you?  I love rubbing elbows with you, and even if our elbows are in separate states right now, I’m just so glad that they made each others’ acquaintance.  It’ll happen again.  I think He likes when our elbows are together.

 

 

 

 

 

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