Blank as Black, Bright as Light

Staring at this computer screen is remarkably like flying over the ocean at night . . . eerily blank, just in reverse. Flat, bright, silent white. In the air, one can see the last lights of land, a definite, glimmering line, and then it’s unapologetic black, blank space. Somehow everything seems suddenly hushed. Now in reverse, the light stares at me just as blankly as the darkness of night. No nothing. No blip. No emotions. No toppling opinions. No tears. Nothing.

Like any soul open to the expression of words, I wait.

Time passes.

I realize that my mind is not as quiet as I thought. My soul is silently restless. And even in this subtle commotion, no words or emotion come. In the face of nothing, it feels like I have nothing. And I am surprised! But I have a feeling there is a revelation in it. So I hold it toward the Lord.

I wait—with Him.

Oh, my Jesus. My precious Lord and Savior. Oh how beautiful it is that we can spend our days in communion with You. What a privilege. What an honor. What a joy! Your presence is sweet and powerful—both in one. It’s profound. It’s simple. It’s precious. How little we know! And yet how abundantly much we have and experience and come to know in You! May our eyes and hearts be open to so much more. May we breathe as one and share intimately this place of love. You, dear Father, are good. Your mercy endures forever. We march with Your banner over us, for we know Your love.

These are the things my spirit . . .

Interrupted.

A thought came to me a second time with more fullness: forgiveness. The slate is clean. Blank.
I expected an upsurge of emotion after watching the movie Unplanned. I wondered at the cracking open of something shameful from my past. I went—unsure. Would I react to the reactions of others? Would they hate? Would they cheer? Would I react to what the film portrayed? Would it alienate? Would it blame? I did not expect to emerge unshamed.

My wound has healed. It doesn’t hurt to touch it. I don’t flinch at the light of truth. It has been handed to the Lord. The work has been done for some time. Like remembering a scar from childhood, it is a story in the timeline. I may bear the mark in my skin, but the sting of injury is long gone. To the touch it brings no knee-jerk pain. Now the memory can be used with intention and the story can become an example for others.

Mirrors

Tonight the topic of mirrors came up in a group discussion ... as we talked about peace and what it looked like to us (the portrait, the smell, the sensory clues that communicate "peace"), we talked about those glimpses being mirrors that God gives us to help us picture His design.  We see through a glass darkly ... knowing in part.  These mirrors give us hope.

My mirror is broken ... but there is beauty in the brokenness.  There is an artful array to the tears and tragedies of life.  It's unique.  But it can still reflect the moments of peace and creativity that I crave.  And in some ways, I love knowing that it's completely mine!

I know I won't do justice to the topic that worked its way into my heart tonight until I spend some time digging into my favorite thing ... WORDS (and by that, I mean the nerdy original language stuff).  But I just noticed on Facebook that someone else already blogged and gave the definition of the word "peace" that was discussed.  But in the meantime?  Here's a Bible verse for the photo ... it's my riddle, my enigma, my beautiful puzzle!

1 Corinthians 13:12
Amplified Bible (AMP) 
For now we are looking in a mirror that gives only a dim (blurred) reflection [of reality as in a riddle or enigma], but then [when perfection comes] we shall see in reality and face to face! Now I know in part (imperfectly), but then I shall know and understand fully and clearly, even in the same manner as I have been fully and clearly known and understood [by God].

Blooming

Bloom where you are planted ... that's what they say.  I think "they" are right.  But the key is being planted.

For many years, I have not been completely planted.  I've had the hope of being planted, but one can only flourish in small ways while hope is held at bay.  Proverbs was right ... "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life." (Proverbs 13:12)

All this rightness is something I've missed for quite some time.  I kept thinking I could catch up, make up, adjust, connect, somehow get right again when my world was right again. But I kept losing my footing along the way, limping in a sometimes-lovely limbo.  But loveliness was a bit of a mirage.

So, I'm planting myself.  I think my dwindling roots had been loose and ready for quite some time.  But hope does not easily let go.  So when the time came, though the pain of change was sharp and hard and reverberating, drawing from rich soil has brought new life.  It's been two months and deep places are reviving from the inside and beginning to spread.  And now?  I'm finally feeling right, too.

Blooming is not without its challenges.  But it is infinitely better than lying dormant.  I think again of Proverbs 13:12 ... Blooming is longing!  And my longings are beginning to find fulfillment.  There is a sense of awe in the air, and I don't want to miss another moment to breathe it in.

So here I am ... before my beautiful Creator ... amazed by the beauty growing from what I thought I had neglected to the point of destruction.  It would have been enough just to breathe, but now I am blooming.

Venetian Prisons

Decadent Glory
Crumbling Beauty
Cascading History
Decaying Grandeur

I feel this sometimes. Tonight I cannot sleep and feel more of the restraints than I care to admit.  I crave change, yet I feel powerless.

Desperately Seeking Thirsty

Aching For Change ...

Aching for growth, for change, for direction, for peace.  There's a sun that shines ... and it shines on all ... I'm aching to stop running to and fro and soak it in somehow.