Sunday, April 6, 2014
the way of hope
Father, we come . . .
taking in the air deep and long, we breathe into this new day.
the weather forecaster said there might be sunshine today.
just hearing that before we closed our eyes was enough last night.
might yesterday's forecast for today give us courage for this day.
because, the days have been long lately and we're just not sure we can take another one.
we forget what the arch of our foot looks like.
taking a shower, our finger finds the center of our navel and thinks it odd to find fuzz in there.
our eyebrows need plucking again and those fingernails need trimming again.
we forget what the sound of his breathing means.
it seems white and gray hair has suddenly blossomed and we think, where did that come from?
the feeling of 25 was erased when the doctor gave the stats and said, "it's a number's thing."
another day . . .
another meal to figure out . . .
another dollar to stretch . . .
another rote routine . . .
The Call that rocked our world has made us afraid of getting another.
we're just not so sure we're in control anymore.
we know we aren't and we haven't been, but still . . .
life just feels even more wildish and devil-like than ever before.
blame is assigned at every turn in this world and we know it's not all our fault, but maybe it is.
we wonder if maybe we could just be a little more . . .
and yet, it was a whirlwind of a week last week and there was nothing we could do about it.
it's Sunday and the weight of rules feels heavy.
we're supposed to rest today.
yet, all we can think about is how tomorrow begins another week.
could we be like an impish child?
could we live free?
we know it's not supposed to matter how we feel today.
pulling our big-girl panties up means sacrificing our want for Yours.
yet, we just feel so not ready for them today.
. . . just like we felt yesterday.
. . . and the day before that.
. . . and the day before that one, too.
they say it might be sunny.
truthfully, that's the only thing that makes hope possible this day.
change seems so long and yet everything can change at once.
there's excitement and anxiety in that truth that makes our palms all sweaty.
but it's supposed to be sunny and focusing there makes today a little easier to breathe in.
maybe You'll focus us on the Son.
it'll have to be You, Father, cause our eyes can barely even open.
might this be enough.
might the possibility the forecaster gives for today be enough.
might hope come, even through this.