Walk on, Little Darling.

Your tears run down my shoulder.

It breaks my heart

Over and over.

I hate seeing you like this,

Knowing that it only gets harder.

You didn't know that all the bad in the world is so painful;

Adults do such a good job of hiding it.

It's not fair that no one warned you

It's not fair that that would not have helped.

Your tears fall onto my shoulder

My sweatshirt soaks them up.

I am watching you discover all the things that tore me up.

Not long ago, I was you.

I was the one with the tears in my eyes,

With my heart being split in two by a new,

A cruel feeling.

Death, pain, grief, turmoil,

It all paralyzes you.

Paralyzes your emotions,

Paralyzes your thoughts.

You have to go on.

You have to look up.

I am here for you forever

But I cannot take it all away.

Face the world with a rainbow in your heart.

Walk on, battered but not diminished.

Little darling, life is going to scar you.

It has distressed my body and soul in the same way.

Every one is going to hurt you,

Like Bob warns us,

You just have to decide who is worth it.

You're worth it to me

So tell me what you need to,

Keep hidden what you don't.

I am not looking for a good story.

I don't want to be in the middle of things.

Tell me when you need me

And I will be gone when you don't.

I will let you down

But in your heart you know that He won't.

So walk on, Little Darling.

Walk with your heart in His hands

And thrive.

Goodness gracious it has been a while since we posted! Here's some crazyness from my journal that I feel led to share...

I stand at the beginning and tilt my head back. It's me and a looming rockface over which I'm determined to carve my destiny. It's all planned out up there, I just don't know how it goes yet. Four steps up one day, down three the next. So I will climb. There'll be scrapes, there'll be bruises. They're just part of the journey. It's a dry and weary land, but water finds me, and lots of it. Enough for the rest of my travels, and enough for all the other travelers. I'm a tired sojourner, but I now have tapped into the ultimate water source, and it is my responsibility to make its' whereabouts known. The water of life is now a part of me, and as I continue to climb I must take the time to stop, meet a fellow vagabond, and share this replenishing gift. Sometimes I will have to back track a couple hundred feet to share. I will descend to a lower place in order to offer somebody in need a hand.
This is my life; this is the journey. I'm not alone, I'm not my own, I'm not anybody else's. This world is not my home, it is my way home.This path ends, but it is not the end. My destination is so promising that I will traverse the endless steppe or dive into the unknown if that is what I must do to get there. I've come this far-however far it might be, and I'm not giving up. Death and chaos lie beneath me. Victory over it all is in my grasp. I want freedom, I want rest. I will not give up. I will not forget the places I've been, or the people who need me. I go to find the hand that first pulled me out of the murk, the sweet drink that first quenched my thirst. I go to prove myself better for having climbed. I go to slide my calloused palms across the last layer of rock, to pull myself up with the wind at my backand I go to be victorious at last over the confused darkness of what I left behind.
After a lifetime of clinging to a rock as though it were my salvation, I will stand on top of it and proclaim my liberation to the nations. I will point to the Wind, the Water, and the Rock, and I will laud them forever.

Above are some pictures I took while working in Joplin, MO (where the tornado went through last Sunday) today. You know what I said about being proud of my brothers and sisters in Christ in the last post? Well ditto that, times a thousand, because of the hundreds of volunteers who have worked and continue to work on cleaning these homes and businesses up.

There is a lot of crazy stuff going on in the world today. Especially if you look at it in light of where society has been, and how history has led us to where we are right now. It's really dreadful, and I think the knee jerk reaction for a lot of the people who have recognized this downward spiral has been to duck, to run for spiritual cover, to turtle-up.
So many do this, and so many suffer for it. If we don't face the problem head-on, if we don't put ourselves out there for what we believe in, and for what we want, we miss something. Something big.
One of my favorite passages of scripture has always been: One gives freely yet grows all the richer while another withholds what he could give and only suffers want {Proverbs 11:24}. I think it's sort of like a promise from God: if we invest ourselves, if we get involved, we won't end up with less than we started. Perhaps our wallets will be a little bit lighter, or our hearts a little bit heavier, but we will have lived! We will have done what we could. We will have seized the day!
I recently found a verse that seems kind of parallel to the one above: Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean, but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox. {Prov. 14:4} It just feels to me like this verse, in analogous Bible-times jargon, is telling us that if we don't make the investment, if we don't take the risk, we are not going to end up with anything. Putting oneself out there, whether by helping someone, or by joining an intermediate art class, or by going after your dream job, or by sharing what you know to be truth, is like asking God for something to be a part of: something to bring crops, though it may dirty your manger.
Running from a problem, individual, nation-wide, or even world-wide gets you nothing but disconnected from the people around you. We can't all run. And we shouldn't. World hunger is never going to end. Children will always go without education. Some people will never have shoes. Don't go your whole life without encountering problems that seem to big to be overcome.

God doesn't need us, but he lets us sink our hands in. {Andrew Osenga}

There's so much blessing in hurt. There's so much to learn from turmoil. Great joy comes after great sorrow. True love springs from death. Suffering unites us.
Shallow emotions are not enough for me. I want to feel so deeply that every tear I see resonates in my soul. I want brokenness so profound that nothing short of the hand of God can repair my contrite heart.

weep for death. laugh for life.

My African Child~by Toris Okotie

So young in heart
He cried for milk
So poor and helpless
Mama weeps in pain

His eyes so red
A week he cried
A month ago,
To the world he came

Mama so young
Papa has run
Under the bridge
They lay their heads

In storm and rain
They search for food
Through man and sex
Mama fed him well

The days went by
Mama health decreased
Only five months old
Mama said good bye

In rain and cold
He cried so loud
In sun and heat
He wept and wept

Three days gone by
Since Mama left
And now he sleeps
To meet with Mama



This poem is one of my favorites because I love how concise it is. I am amazed by how few words it took the author to relay his tragic story so poignantly.

Stay tuned, more poetry is on the horizon :)


Lydia

waterthirst
hungerfeasting
losslaughter
wealthpoverty
fuelfever
heightsdepths
brokenhealed
shatteredmended
lovedlost
forgivenforgotten
soldredeemed

This is me again: running over. Watching friends get hurt, seeing people's homes get washed away, hearing about people who need help but cannot be reached by those of us who want to assist, listening, advising, and holding hands. I am so glad that the debauched, sorry echo of love that we see so often is not the only love that there is, and I rejoice over the fact that love is not my religion, but rather, that my religion=alltruelovewrappedintoonepersongodman.

found
rescued
embraced
liberated
delivered
changed
loved.

Just one quick question (for I too have been sucked into my society and am dreadfully busy): What is it that fills you over?
I think that we all have things that we name off when someone asks us what we do, or who we are, or what satisfies us. Things like our family, our job, our hobbies, our beliefs. Those are the things with which we fill our time, towards which we exert our energy, and without which we freak out. I have discovered, though, and keep rediscovering an over-filled point. I feel like liquid in a cup, and all these things take me to the rim (usually), but then I run into a song, or a picture, or an idea, that adds just one ounce more, and then my soul starts running over the edges. Do you know what I am talking about? Have you known this emotional implosion?
I hope so, because though it causes my heart to literally ache, and I cannot help but hang my head in an overwhelmed fashion when I experience it, I love this emotional expanse, and I even seek it. It is hard to explain. It is so excruciating and wonderful at the same time, that I want all to know it, and I want everyone to have beliefs to look to that are as awe-inspiring as those to which I turn. Because sometimes, it is impossible to handle one such magnificient beauty as a dirty child in the arms of someone who loves them, a blind youth harbouring hope for sight, or the tranquility of nature without searching for someone or something greater that will take care to catch the drippings from beneath your metaphorical cup.

If I were honest, I would tell you that your hunger makes me cry inside. I would tell you that my heart cracks over the uncertainty and insecurities in your life. If I told the truth, you would know that I never wanted to see tears rolling down your proud face. I would tell you that you can have everything that belongs to me, because your happiness means more to me than my own, if I were honest. You would know not only that I love you, but that I love you more than life, and you are more precious to my soul than all the wealth in the world. If I told you the way things really are, you would know that I would rather be struck, than see you hit one more time. If I were honest, I would tell you that I love you, and that my mind and body silently cry out in agony when you say that you feel alone.
Would you help pick up the pieces of my shattered heart, if I were honest?

Sweet girl,

Listen with your heart for a moment. I want you to hear this.
You are beautiful. Look at the face of the water and see! Every inch of you was perfectly crafted. Never listen to others when they talk you down. They say these things because they are afraid. Afraid of your Maker, and of your beauty. So do not entertain the idea that you are a mistake
I want you to know that my heart breaks every time you cry. Your broad, strong face was not meant to bear tears. Your eyes are too perfectly shaped and coloured to be so obscured.
You need to know that you have the potential to do great things if you look not only to yourself, but also to Someone Greater.
The world around you is a cruel one. It will beat upon you, it will be cruel to you, and it will be cruel to the ones you love. Lift up your head and be strong! Smile in the face of those who hate you because your God is the most loving and splendid being of all time. He is angered by their cruelty. He takes pride in that which they berate.
Believe all of this and love and mercy will emanate from you the way light comes forth from the sun. You are a chosen woman, darling child, and nothing will ever change that!





(New label-"redemption". Quite possibly my favorite:))

Even in the midst of unwrapping, wrapping presents, and thinking about how blessed we are, there is pain. There is fear, poking it's head around the door to our insecurity. As we eat-feast, really-if we look, if we feel, we can sense the anguish in the hearts of those around us, and maybe even within ourselves. Anguish that is there, and future anguish that is inevitable. Every little joy has a little pain. Every present is tied with a ribbon of sacrifice. All the gifts are wrapped up in disappointment. And all of this is just one more real illustration of how

We are

many little droplets of liquid in a river of hurt that will keep on flowing until eternity comes.

Somewhere there's a boy. His skin may be white, his skin may be black. He may have a T shirt on, he may be wearing a polo. He may be in the United States, and he may be in Ukraine, Uganda, or Uruguay. He may love the sea, he may fear it.
Wherever this boy is, no matter what he looks like, no matter what he fears, he needs to be told that there is nothing to worry about. He needs to be told that his eyes are the most beautiful when they are free of tears and hatred. This boy needs to know that the bad things his parents are a part of do not make him bad. He needs to be told that no amount of water or soap will wash away the guilt that he feels. He must know that his guilt is built upon an unreliable foundation. He needs to see that his sins can be gone; that they can be wiped away. He needs to know that he can look into the faces of all people, because no one is a better person than him. He needs to know that when he stands up, he does not stand alone. Somehow, the news must reach his ears that everytime he is hit, everytime he is yelled at, someone else is being hit and yelled at too. Other people have felt his pain, and also felt love.
A lifetime of darkness cannot erase the love that waits to shine from within you, Dear Boy. You need to know that love awaits you on the new side of your dark past. No matter what you have done, no matter what has been done to you, Sweet Boy, there is life and light awaiting you. Don't ever forget that. And don't ever stop waiting and watching for deliverance, and for your new day. There is hope. Do not give up. The dark will never overcome the light, though it may seem as if all light left your life long ago. Keep believing, Precious Child. You are a member of the kingdom, and you have nothing to fear.

Lydia