Posts Tagged ‘ hope ’

just catching our breath…

Note: In honor of International Women’s Day, a repost.

she seemed so very graceful to me and yet so very tired. i wasn’t the first to notice her, but it was the first time that i had noticed her. she stood tiny. she stood strong. she stood worn, yet calm. her chin up, pleasant disposition, she had finished and stood still to find a moment of rest. this little dancer of 14 years stood a mere 39 inches tall and she had my attention. she was surrounded by majestic paintings, enormous sculptures and camera toting tourists, but she had my attention. i was captivated by her strength. this little dancer was just catching her breath.

she presented herself with crafted skill, a tight routine, proven procedure, graceful in motion and eloquence in movement. broken in two, with pain in her heart and bloody toes, she had completed her dance. she was 14, i was 15, you were 19, he was 25, we were 27… i’ve considered to myself whether or not 34 is too early for retirement. this little dancer is just catching her breath.

so much soreness sustained by a regard for her craft, so many aches bound tight by hope and the trust that some day she will find rest. her body broken down, her mind stronger than ever, she requires the time to straighten her shoulders and close her eyes, but remains in position, ready for the next dance. her muscles carry the memories of her training, suspension, triumph and defeat. her heart carries the gift and an unrepentant loyalty to the giver. this little dancer is just catching her breath.

we are just catching our breath…

If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there; if you’re kicked in the gut,

he’ll help you catch your breath.

Psalm 34:18 Msg

La Petite Danseuse de Quatorze Ans (“Little Dancer of Fourteen Years”) c. 1881, is a sculpture by Edgar Degas of a young dance student named Marie van Goetham.


i like you…

seems strange the way two strangers meet. seems to be destined due to root word origin.

you and i weren’t any different. we were strangers and it was strange and we’ve yet to lose our peculiarity.

i was willing to lay low, watch from afar, conduct an investigation and see how the scenario would play out.

you seemed somewhat interested. you smiled, you answered, you made some simple efforts.

and as far as i knew, i, like you, was open to what may be and what may come from this little spark.

and as far as i knew, i, like you, wanted to find love, a warming light, welcomed relief from the dark.

and as far as i knew, i liked you.

seems as if space crept in as silence and i can’t remember what it was i’d seen in you.

you were bright, i know this. and kind, most generous too. funny, clever even, but still this space is vast.

i was dropping hints, spending smiles, making it simple, waiting and watching this scenario as it played out.

you seemed indifferent and distant. you smiled, but you were silent. you made no more efforts.

and as far as i knew, i, like you, was open to what may come and what i may discover in knowing you.

and as far as i knew, i, like you, had hoped to find love and have it forever, to witness dreams become truth.

and as far as i knew, i liked you.

i like you…

On Disappointment… A reflection.

i’ve never been very good at knowing when it’s a reasonable time to be disappointed, on account of patience and hope.  i have avoided the term disappointment with every bit of my paranoid self, for fear of appearing weak, or faithless, or less than what i may have been perceived as.  but i found myself in a state of disappointment. these scenarios seemed to make sense to me, expectations seemed reasonable, but on the other side, i was left questioning my perception, my behavior, my actions, my desires, my silly hopes.

disappointment isn’t about placing blame, but about identifying the origin of hope. i didn’t stay there, in my disappointment. it’s not a comfortable place to settle into. but disappointment is the part of the journey that i could no longer avoid, fear, or deny.  sometimes hope can feel so childish, so fairytale, so female, but discovering what God has and has not promised us leads to our freedom. hope developed on a deluded foundation will never be satisfied. hope developed on truth and wisdom may seem bitter at first taste but is sweet and soothing to the soul.

disappointment interrogates the soul on what it was hoping for? it intrudes and asks, where did your hope come from? why did you surrender your hope? disappointment is the break between the giddy and the groan. it is the strong drink that can cause both intoxication and inhibition. disappointment is necessary for the shaping of a sound mind. i was disappointed, but i was also determined to discover the truth of my hope’s foundation, the root of my heart’s desire, and the peace that comes in letting go.

Ecclesiastes 12:10 GNT


But partnership still lingers…

Love I’ve known.
Romance I’ve experienced.
Lust I’ve wrestled.
But partnership still lingers far off in the distance.

Attention I’ve obtained.
Love letters I’ve received.
Desire I’ve delighted in.
But partnership still lingers despite my persistence.

My soul rests in the hope of “one day”.
Knowing all this couldn’t be just for me.
My heart seeks a complimentary melody.
And the perfection of completion we could be.

Companions I’ve had.
Commonalities I’ve shared.
Chemistry I’ve found.
But partnership still lingers and seems resistant.

My soul knows it will meet its match.
Making clear it’s interests and needs.
My heart awaits the warmth of its partner
And the perfection of completion we could be.

My current view…

Lord, that I might not take for granted, not even for a moment, the peace I’ve been granted, the stillness of this season, and the freedom that I’ve come to cherish.

Though my questions remain unanswered and my hopes remain in waiting, my heart is at rest in your sweet, sovereign hands.

And even when I wake early in the morning, moving about my day as if I had a clue, the truth is the only thing I know is you.

My insecurities like the tides, rising in the darkness and lowering in the light of day.
My hopes like the boats that dock in shallow water & set sail in the ocean’s depth.

You guide me in your silence, singing softly in the scenarios that leave me here wanting you.
You gently remind me, in the things ripped from my pit bull grip, that you are in control.

Lord, that I might not take for granted, not even for a moment, the peace I’ve been granted, the stillness of this season, and the freedom I’ve come to cherish.

on the road to Somewhere…*

i once had a friend ask me if i was jealous of the woman he’d chosen. he had been single for years, we’d been close, the answer was no. the women in his life, that he suspected of jealousy, were essentially mourning the moment of not being chosen. i didn’t want to be with him, but i was growing weary of singleness and becoming discouraged in the absence of my own partner.

this other fellow i know came in all casual and cool, slow in acknowledging our chemistry. we laughed, we dove into conversation, we always had a really great time. i saw his nervousness, his restraint, his curiosity, his adrenaline pumping when i was near, but i also witnessed the intoxication of his current state of comfort. i chose to let him in, give him a piece of my mind, and offer up a portion of my time. he decided to stay sedentary, watching me from the sidelines. i chose to keep on moving.

i walked through the church doors in hopes of meeting my match. casual handshakes, names exchanged, and “so glad to meet you, so very glad to meet you”. they watched me walk in, they watched me walk out, and rarely lifted their eyes to at least engage. all the printed signs spoke of a potential connection and a desire to know me, but it was taking too long… way too long. they also seemed sedentary, but they paid me no mind and didn’t even watch from the sidelines. i chose to keep on moving.

i do not hesitate to state that i have a deep desire to be chosen. it would be silly to claim otherwise. just as i’d hoped for him to be motivated by our connection enough to make a move, i desired them to be motivated by my decision to show up time & time again enough to let me in. but their hesitancy to choose has forced me to move. i continue in hope and not in desperation. i will one day find and also be found, i have no doubt. but these things take time… opportunity and action will one day align.

Barricade the road that goes Nowhere; grace me with your clear revelation.

I choose the true road to Somewhere, I post your road signs at every curve and corner.

Psalm 119:29-30

*Respost (still on sabbatical)

on the local Church… my fair weather friend*

i would like to include a chapter on “the Church: a fair weather friend” in my “one day to be released” book about the Insecure Church. [Don’t steal that!] i am not alone in my experiences. i am not a special case or a rarity. i’ve heard the stories of the sinners and the saints… all forgotten and some even discarded. in serving for over 15 years as a church leader, i’ve experienced both the process of leaving a local fellowship and being shunned by a local fellowship.

the Church likes to sell itself as a family, perhaps under obligation, but many haven’t experienced the follow through of that. whether we chose to or were unable to serve any longer at the local church, the once evident need for us was severed. the phone calls stopped. the invitations ceased. the holiday wishes were non-existent. it’s a bitter pill to swallow, but it’s become par for the course. it can feel as though you were loved because you served them. you were appreciated because you assisted in their mission and vision. you were counted because you were a servant. you were included because you got the job done… for free in most cases. these statements may not be truth, but they are the honest struggle of many.

I’ve dealt with it and processed my emotion & frustration, but i wonder if the local church knows that this is her m.o. i am curious if she realizes that she is in direct violation when she instills in us the importance of fellowship and accountability and then ostracizes us without a single conversation.

it seems to me that family is family regardless of vicinity or effort.

fair weather family? it’s not possible.

the Church, to many, has been a fair weather friend.

*originally posted January 4, 2010