Sunday, August 22, 2010

Love Should Grow Up Like a Wild Iris in the Fields




Love Should Grow Up Like a Wild Iris in the Fields

Love should grow up like a wild iris in the fields,
unexpected, after a terrible storm, opening a purple
mouth to the rain, with not a thought to the future,
ignorant of the grass and the graveyard of leaves
around, forgetting its own beginning.
Love should grow like a wild iris
but does not.
Love more often is to be found in kitchens at the dinner hour,
tired out and hungry, lingers over tables in houses where
the walls record movements, while the cook is probably angry,
and the ingredients of the meal are budgeted, while
a child cries feed me now and her mother not quite
hysterical says over and over, wait just a bit, just a bit,
love should grow up in the fields like a wild iris
but never does
really startle anyone, was to be expected, was to be
predicted, is almost absurd, goes on from day to day, not quite
blindly, gets taken to the cleaners every fall, sings old
songs over and over, and falls on the same piece of rug that
never gets tacked down, gives up, wants to hide, is not
brave, knows too much, is not like an
iris growing wild but more like
staring into space
in the street
not quite sure
which door it was, annoyed about the sidewalk being
slippery, trying all the doors, thinking
if love wished the world to be well, it would be well.
Love should
grow up like a wild iris, but doesn't, it comes from
the midst of everything else, sees like the iris
of an eye, when the light is right,
feels in blindness and when there is nothing else is
tender, blinks, and opens
face up to the skies.
~ Susan Griffin ~

(Like the Iris of an Eye)

Friday, August 13, 2010

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Thunder


Thunder
Originally uploaded by Thundercatt99
A recent thunderstorm rumbling through our part of the world ...

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Scared of the Dark ~ Rich Mullins




i don't remember meeting Him
He had just always been there
when people ask me, "how did you meet the Lord?"
i don't know how to answer.
meeting Him seems unavoidable
recognizing Him can be tricky
loving Him seems impossible.
people often ask that too - "do you love Jesus?"
and again i'm stuck for an answer
i know the right one - the answer you're supposed to give
i know that it presupposes so many things that it could hardly be honest
so i say
as much as i love,
i love Jesus.

if love was easier, i would love Him more
but then again
if love was easier, it would hardly be worth the little
it would ask
if i was stronger, i would love Him more
or maybe
i would more know how little i love

we grow slowly,
and love takes time...

He's always been there
even in that dark room where i
slept as a child
scared of that dark
in that room that seem to want
to suck me deep into the night's
great lungs
i hated the thought that we were all
hanging upside down - off the bottom of the world
and that all that darkness out there that we
might fall into
was just a shadow of our own selves
just a shadow you could fall through forever.

she said that You were out there too
and then she'd tuck me in so tight that i would likely be safe
till morning
but no woman - not even your own mother
can kiss you without mixing some unspoken sorrow
into her affection
and i always thought
she might be kissing me
good-bye
as well as good night

my aunt said that Jesus would knock on the door of my heart
and if i would open the door
He'd come in and sup with me
and when i was old enough to be ashamed of trying to tether myself to my mom
(with that last desperate good night)
i decided
that instead of lying there being afraid
i would listen for His knock.

i heard all kinds of things
scary things
amplified by the dark
and by my nervous and hopeful listenings
was it the voice of Eli? or the call of God?
was it the limbs of the trees outside?
or the knock i was to open to?

i did not worry about what Jesus would find to eat if He came in
i was a child and knew that out of a crowd
a boy would most likely have some fish and some loaves

but i am no longer a child
i am no longer afraid of the dark
i have new things to fear
i am no longer afraid that i will drift away from this world
i am afraid i will never escape it.

and i'm not afraid of good-byes
i've become so used to them it scares me.

i have never heard any knocking sound
that was distinct from every other noise
but i have learned to listen
and i'm thankful for learning

i don't know that the rumble of the thunder
or the crackle in a good fire
or the hum of my wheels
is the sound of Jesus knocking on
the door of my heart
but i'm thankful to Him for all
those sounds
and for giving me ears
and for teaching me to listen.

i don't know that the lonely ache that i
feel - even when times are the best
and friends are near -
is the way that it feels when He knocks,
when He calls,
but i'm thankful to have a heart.
i don't know that He would like everything in it
or that He would find any fish or loaves anymore
or much besides stone and snakes.

but sometimes
i get really brave, and
if i don't open the door
i at least unlock it

and when i look in
or when i look out
i can see that He's just always been there.

meeting Him seems unavoidable
recognizing Him can be tricky
loving Him seems impossible

we grow slowly,
and love takes time


-Rich Mullins, 1997

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Cliffs


Cliffs
Originally uploaded by Thundercatt99
An afternoon stroll in the Williamson Gorge area near home ...