What ails us…

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The problem with what it is that ails us is that we are broken abandoned eggshell-people that are kept for exterior decor more than the inner usefulness, like an eggshell. We are empty.

Empty gas tanks running on fumes.

Fumes as silent as a dragonfly darting in out of places, soundless in absolute stealth with an agility unbeknownst to us, the anti-gossamers that exist as giants of fleeting destruction called history of the human race.

We lack beauty and we lack strength because we are running our marathon as a sprint and hope to come out the other side.

Hope to be victors over this thing called life.

Really, life is not something we need to have victory over, God already gave us victory, but  we have to enjoy living, enjoy the journey. Enjoy it even in the vast mundaneness of laundry, cooking, early morning alarms blaring. We have to stop sprinting and take a water break.

Stop consuming life and just live it. Live the pain, live the joys. Live those moments that break the mundane, but then return to the norm when it is all settled and done and be okay with the quiet, the ordinary. Bask in it.

We need to LEARN to love what is good for us since it’s not always so. We need to learn to take a breath, stop the mad darting skills of dragonflies and just land on a bush by the waterside.

Bask in the sun, soak in a sunset. Learn to recharge and go forth to the mundane amazingness of each day we’ve been gifted.

And it is a gift.

When you find that you are losing what you love, you find that indeed, life is a gift and what you spend will never come back again. When your mom is dying, your father in a jail cell, or your brother/sister testing limits on life threatening highs, you begin to understand how precious the now is, how much it should be lived and not consumed.

So stop. Make some friends.Laugh together. Stop running from the God chasing you ruthlessly. Smile. Spend a whole Saturday in bed. Take a walk at sunset. Be with the ones you love that want to be with you.

This is life. This is now. This is the meaning of everything.

And this is what fills us.When we are full- full of joy, faith, beauty, hope-that is when the ails begin to fall away. That is when God can make us stronger than we could ever be on our own. We just have to be willing to be filled. Because only what is already full can fill what ails us.

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Don’t think the stand in role, the one without lines, in a play  makes no difference. In reality, it’s the smaller roles that have the greatest freedoms, the grandest room for you to pour in your own vision and heart. So use them. Use the small roles and one day you will find your role is front and center and this time you will be ready to take on all that such pressure puts on you because you have worked all the roles beneath you and now you are the one to hold the show together.

You are the one whose words or simple hug, will make all the difference standing in a life and death situation. Those will come.  Just don’t rush the journey. What you gather along the way is crucial. It is in the small roles that you have room to make your mistakes, learn your own lessons, and all without the pressure of front and center. All without feeling like you will cave under what you have to uphold.

So take your small role. Pour your soul into it and watch it became what you always wanted it to be because others will notice.

 

Small Significant Roles

Zombies in Victoria’s Courts

God adopting us as His own seems to be a reoccurring theme in my life this season. But truly, it’s a truth- an unbelievable one at that. I am blessed beyond measure to be called His- to be named his daughter. I am so undeserving of that title and yet, Jesus crowns me with it every day. He calls me by name into who I am created to be.

I wrote this poem a while back and now seems to be the time to post it. Here’s to the One who can when we can’t, to the One who takes in the disheveled orphan and calls them son and daughter.

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We come before the

spotless, magnificent

gilded throne of stones

disheaveled, disrobed,

wild, afraid, yet hopeful.

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We hope the eternal

everlasting King-

of wonder, of beauty,

of all that is good

will look at us and see.

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We want his mercy to

be enough, to overlook a

Frankenstein coming to

Victoria’s Courts, and seeing

us for what’s inside.

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But what hope is there,

in a corps of rotting flesh,

a diseased but beating heart

that drags in toxic air with

the flies and calls it living?

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A good life to a zombie

means nothing to the likes

of a Royal but for Him who

is Love and came to join

us in the stench and decay.

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He brought us rancid

souls the smell of roses,

the promise of life,

eternity in the courts

of royal nobility.

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He gave us the keys to

his palace and called us,

by name so that we would

be loved, and truly live,

he shows us what whole is.

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That one day, we will be

the ones- we will be the

guests at Victoria’s courts,

invited by gilded pens and

rejoiceing in newness.

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Revel then we will as invites

return and the zombies arise,

at the door, looking as toxic

and disheveled as we once

were and are no more.

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