...and if you're like me, you need hope, coffee and melody.
I’m sitting here at the Rose Garden. Instead of a solitary hike (which my mom deemed, unsafe for a young lady like myself), I opted for pretty scenery and reflective space. I set up camp in the mini amphitheater with my blanket, lil’ buddy (my ipod), book and journal. I read for a few minutes and was quickly drawn into prime people-watching all around me.
I watched the group of kids running across the lawn, running and screaming for as long as their lungs would allow to see who could scream and run the longest in one breath. The oldest girl was the true winner and won time and time again. The younger ones, took several breaths and ended up running out of eyesight every time, but convinced themselves they had won.
I watched a couple young girls put on a talent show on the stage. Performing 10 second performances of break-dancing and singing.
I watched a young boy and girl for a while, following their play and conversation. I watched the little boy jumping down the oversized steps beside me, with his face bright with adventure. His mom calls out, “Jason, what are you doing??”
OOF…OOP…OOF…
With each jump he lets out an OOF…
He looks back with a big grin and yells, “CLIMBING!”
And continues his journey.
A young girl is following after.
He keeps looking behind to make sure she is following.
Oof….oop….oof.
She has the same smile of adventure on her face as she follows where the boy leads. His excitement is brimming when he leads.
She calls out when they reach the bottom, “follow me!”
…
He stops and sulks into the grass, his face visibly fallen. He slowly gets up walking after her, but with no enthusiasm. It’s clear her doesn’t want to be led. His joy comes in the leading, in the adventure of forging the trail, in knowing that someone is following his lead.
I wonder to myself as I continue to watch them play if I too often default to my own lead- and my own independence. If I should step aside now and then and allow myself to be led.
...And now, the clouds have moved in and I’m sitting in the sprinkle of rain, wondering if I am going to stick it out. It seemed that just when I got comfortable and settled, enjoying the sunshine and warmth-clouds moved overhead. Though it’s still sunny, I am still sitting here in the midst and mist of rain.
I love how metaphorical weather and seasons can be and singers know it.
“it never rains when you want it to”
“for tomorrow may rain, I’ll follow the sun”
Change in weather always throws people off a bit. When it’s 90 degrees for a week straight and then it drops to 65 just like that, people don’t know what to think of it. I’ve noticed that the day the weather changes in any drastic way, first snow, or downpour after a dry spell, first sunshine after weeks of rain- those are the days the coffee house is busy. Not just for beverage needs. People need to discuss the change. They need to know that other people are experiencing and witnessing the change happening around them.
Change is always difficult because it means, well, just that-change. Sometimes it’s welcome change. Other times change happens and we don’t want it one bit. We liked the way things were, settled and comfortable. I'm going to have to go back to change is easier when you know you're not alone and thank goodness we are never alone.
Seven years ago today, you were still a teen
Early morning July 3rd, the dawn was breaking
And your own life you were taking.
I know you had your reasons
I would have told you that life is worth living
And that we all have our seasons
I hope at the very least in that last moment
You knew you were loved
By a great and loving God above.
This day comes around every year,
And the strength of your character becomes that much more clear.
Boy did you carry that sense of life
That passion inside that flowed from your hands
onto paper, walls and canvas
you believed that love could change the world
Can this?
Poetic words spoken from your lips
Into our ears, hearts and histories
“Live to love” you said,
“Create love and be free”
It took losing you for so many to finally see.
It’s undeniable, the strength you carried
From your first breath until the day you were buried
In all your ways you breathed humility
And in the end I’m reminded of life’s fragility.
I wish you were here.
There are so many things I’d like to tell you.
And share perhaps over a beer
Your life has touched mine and others
Many mothers, friends, sisters and brothers
If there is anything to gain
I want you to know your life was not lived in vain.
One last and little secret I can’t forget.
Remember those prank calls you used to get?
Your favorite songs
played to you by a random somebody
All those years ago,
yeah, that was me.
Much love, friend.
(I apologize for being so verbose; this was written in a late night, sleepy state.)
some thoughts that resemble poetry..
I am a tattered and torn person in the process of becoming
Who it is I am meant to be
Into the image of the one I long to see
Transforming and changing
Imago dei.
If only I was cleanly cut with no jagged edges
Made to fit perfectly so,
Here and there.
Into the dreams I’ve so carefully drafted
Through the paths I’ve chosen
and will find again in pages unwritten
I’ve learned that the pieces don’t always fit just so
I’ve learned by going where he leads
and learning to let go
Must I still be learning?
I’m in love with our world.
That hurts and breaks
And in my hands I feel the warmth
When I hold them up to the wounds
In our world that is fallen and broken and crying out for hope
Daily I see pieces of a flawed and imperfect humanity
Yearning for redemption
Aching for heaven’s waters to spill over the earth and wash it clean
Yet, in the midst of a scarred world,
I can’t help but find myself in awed moments
Grateful for heartache,
That echoes within
And calls out to others
in a melody
that we all know
I am astounded by the immense weight of hope in the midst of suffering
In spite of dire odds and circumstance
We remain a people
Clinging to slivers of hope
And remaining faithful
As we lean a little more into
the next page
and into a love that is with us
until the end of the age.
