Silent Presence

Have you ever had one of those days where you couldn't wait for it to end, but then it never did? That's me right now. I'm beyond tired, but there is an endless supply of things in my head, a never-ending stream of thoughts and feelings and thoughts about my feelings...then feelings about my thoughts, and so on. And here I am.

The only thing I know to do is write, only what's bothering me isn't something I can write about. I pray, and that helps...but it doesn't "fix it." I actually woke my husband from his comatose slumber to help me...but guess what he said? He had the audacity to tell me to hand it over to God. Can you believe that? After years of praying for him to step up his spiritual game...I was semi-appalled when he actually gave me solid Biblical advice. My husband can usually "fix" things for me himself.

So, here I am pecking away at this keyboard wondering if it's worth it to go to bed at all since I need to be up in less than four hours. In college, I would stay up and take a nap after my noon class, but I'm not in college nor am I any longer the age of most college students. I try to sleep, but the kind of peace needed for a calm rest alludes me. Probably because I'm still carrying the burden. What was that my husband said about casting my cares and worries and problems on God? God's bigger than my situation...I believe that, right? But why would he even take my worries? And what are "cares" anyway? I'd settle for feeling numb for a while, long enough to recuperate the strength I'll need to pick my cares and burdens back up tomorrow...because of course I'm going to carry them around again.

My particular burdens might be disappointment, a heart-wrenching sadness, and this empty feeling in the middle of my heart that steals my breath away....but, your cares might be frustration, anger, and physical pain because you actually punched a wall. A guy on the bus could have a completely different set of cares: emotional pain from a broken heart, fear of failure, and wounds from a childhood abandonment. You just never know...

I believe that in the invisible, spiritual realm, our "cares" are visible. The guardian angels must cringe when they're assigned to watch over the guy with three suitcases of "cares" strapped to his back, but even the most put-together person will carry around a pocketful of cares.

So, what did I do? First, I did one of those "open to the Bible and point at a verse" experiments, only I didn't point to a verse. Instead, I pointed to a title or heading within the verses...you'll never guess what it was...I actually laughed out loud. PATIENCE IN SUFFERING. Ugh! The passage of scripture didn't apply to me, but still....come on! Next time "open and point" produced James 5:13, "Is any one of you in trouble? He should pray. Is anyone happy? Let him sing songs of praise." I already tried the praying, so I began to focus on the praise part of the verse, and you know what? I actually have something very big to be thankful for...we got an offer on our house today. I hadn't thanked God for that yet because I was too busy crying or thinking about something else or feeling sad. But, as soon as I shifted my focus...I changed almost immediately. Today, I had forgotten to be excited about something I had waited for so long to happen because I was consumed with a form of grief that completely robbed me of my joy. So, yeah! The burden got smaller. It's still there, but when my focus changed...the "care" became lighter to carry. The last "open and point" delivered this verse, "train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it." And, that helped too. I did wonder something about that verse though, some information I may get from God someday if I remember to query him about it: "Dear God, it would help me a lot more if You would've left out the old part of the verse and it read: train up a child in the way he should go, and he will not depart from it." But today, the "old part" of the promise is in there as an encouragement I needed to hear. Funny that I hadn't actually pondered a verse I'd read at least a hundred times the way it truly read before this moment.

I put away my Bible, somewhat refreshed. And I could almost fall asleep, so I reread a poem I wrote last night. And the words spoke to me today, almost like God gave them to me yesterday because He knew I needed to hear them today even more than when I wrote them...maybe this poem can help one other person too...


"Silent Presence"

Sometimes there are no words for feelings.
Sometimes feelings are too strong for only one person to carry.
Even so, I am here.
I might be silent, but I'm here.

Sometimes time heals wounds.
Sometimes grace does.
Most wounds do heal though...
With enough proper care and rest.
Patience heals.
Peace heals too.

But, sometimes the healer comes in the form of grief.
What an unlikely salve God has given me to use.
Even so, I am here.
I might be silent, but I'm here.

We're all in this life together, my friends. So, let's practice a little casting today!

"Acorns in the Dryer" (my first post used as inspiration for this poem)

Acorns in the Dryer

Clanking comes from inside of the automatic dryer
Some sort of hollow thumping gets me wondering 
Usually, it's loose change from pockets unchecked 
Yielding a meager earning for the day’s laundering.

Exciting to find things after the warm spinning stops 
Circling, cycling in the monotonous humming appliance
Interesting what-nots, paperclips and hair barrettes
Useless trash, tissue and candy wrappers in alliance

The noise is, on occasion, an avoidable mess 
A lipgloss container somehow void of the gloss  
After its hot ride leaves reddish-pink splotches 
On white t-shirts and underwear now ready to toss.
  
Wisdom echoes as it tumbles in mid air, heated with potential
Falling from great heights before it settles in on the ground
What is nature’s abundant food becomes a child’s play thing
Something different from the usual but not yet notably profound.

Acorns, the nifty seed nuts that feed rodent squirrels 
During the long months of snow and winter's boredom
Break out of the youngest daughter's newly dry pockets  
Loosely falling out after taking a warm, wild ride to freedom. 

The first potential tree found elicits a line-inducing smile
Across the mouth at the thought of that sweet freckled-face
Such an interesting, whimsical creature who notices everything  
Picking up anything that gives chase to wonder and fascinates.

After a while, piles of acorns gather atop the machine 
Waiting as time slips away from the busy launderer's grace
She plans their return to the meadow one day, someday
But now only questions their absence from the resting place.

The surprise is the panic that comes alive inside the spirit
Sad eyes welling to the point of escape, releasing tears
Generally, the launderer's character doesn't react this way  
Just because some "already misplaced" seedlings disappear.  

Upon searching, the launderer discovers the fleeing acorns 
In the trash, almost buried, and rescues every last one 
Of those capped nuts in the dig and carries them outside,
Flings them into nature's clean air, onto their new grassy home.   

The busy launderer wonders and ponders there on the deck,
Where she stands, "why do I take the time to save them?" 
Leaving them in the trashcan is a viable option for some
To keep the acorns from being forsaken is mercy's gem.

Further thinking concludes, found acorns serve as reminders  
Born of nurturing, brought up with hope, mercy, and love's caress, 
A life pours out, becomes empty, gives the acorns a warm, wild ride  
Through life as they grow in character, knowledge, and kindness.

Three children, all daughters, the potential trees she bears
The oldest is sensitive, quietly brave, and patient beyond belief
The middle, an empathetic child, is strong-willed while justice-filled 
The youngest is a free-spirit and a tender-hearted acorn thief

Encourage the same admiration the youngest feels when she 
So carefully plucks those little nuggets from earth's cool floor 
Wishing to keep them hidden, to hold onto them a little longer
Yet, once tucked into her pocket, the acorns long for the door.

Unavoidable is the responsibility, the mandate clearly shown
Avoid the automatic setting of life and refrain from neglect
Never let them be unimportant, mistaken for crumbs or trash
Notice and watch, follow the rarely trodden path and connect.

Value is given and assigned by the quality and quantity
Unspoken is the rule of time when bestowed with consent
Relationships require this priceless resource for stability
Imparted freely, time becomes a beloved jewel, well-spent

A long talk on a porch swing, a kiss, a story told with voices
A recipe for chicken soup, a letter, or a bright walk in the city
A mutual cry over a broken heart, a picnic, a game of catch
The cost of love falls to the giver, and time is the commodity.

All that is dearly loved, in time, falls away from the launderer
Into the hands of the careful gardener, who attends to the benefits 
Of growth, noting that time possesses incomprehensible value
For truly appreciating acorns before they fall from your pockets.