Broken Birdsong

It was getting late ... My body was limbered, but weary. I could smell the oils I had rubbed on my aching feet with a prayer that I would get rest. I had stayed up far too late the night previous, & I'd let my thoughts reign free. Never a good life choice. Things seemed so out of control, & I felt isolated. There are nights where just going to bed is something I'm not sure I'm brave enough to do. It requires that I turn the lights out. That I lay next to my thoughts & I face them alone. These are lies, but a friend once told me that nighttime always exacerbates things, & it seems like it seldom exacerbates truth. Especially when you haven't been entertaining truthful thoughts all day. Let me speak this out: muffling the negative thoughts & the lies is not renouncing them, & it's not speaking truth. Non-thought still lets the wound fester. We cannot afford to merely stifle our pain. Now that I have gotten that out...

So for once, I was involuntarily quiet on here. It took an unbelievably long time to get wifi at our new house. And even longer for me to get a place to plug in my laptop. Old Bessie (the laptop) had trouble waking up after such a long sleep. I can relate. She's back to her quirky self, though. And I'm back to mine (did I ever stop?). I just got a glimpse of the kind of adult I'm most likely going to end up being: the kind that goes to bed after dinner and lovvvvves it. I kid you not, I was in bed before 7pm. And awake before 5am. I feel so rested & so ready. A perfect day to write, am I right? (half-hearted pun intended. I get worse, the more awake I am. My apologies to those who could hardly handle exhausted me.) So, yes. I've moved. To my Haven in the middle of a bustling city. My room is bright, & my corner windows are surrounded by very green leaves from the trees that feed my soul. I live close to people that are dear to me. Close enough for true spo...

This time of the year is one of my favorites. I love the feeling of a fresh start ... the damp ground, the hazy skies. Autumn is the season I love best, but there is something about spring that just embraces me like an old friend (despite the choke-hold of seasonal allergies). I slip on my running shoes & step out the door, feeling a kinship to the birds singing, the earth gently giving beneath my feet, the sky that almost un-magnificent shade of grey-white. I appreciate that color more than most, with my sensitive eyes. It's one of the few daytime skies I can openly gaze at unscathed. It reminds me of blank canvasses, & rainstorms that bring life to dirt. I'm reminded of Someone who makes life out of dust. How I am dust. I am the dry ground in need of refreshing streams of water to pour down from heaven. I need the lush green in my life to break forth. I ponder on how the birds do not wait for a prettier day to break into song. Spring is here, & they must...

I love how in the Kingdom, things can become redefined. I listen to a song about fear. I realize it is an anthem. Where else can we find such a hope? Such life? One of the darkest vises this world can threaten us with ... one of my greatest battles ... now transformed into a joyful cry: We are no longer slaves to it. Fear doesn't have to control us anymore. What we see is not the only reality. The darkness has tried to trick us into believing it is unquenchable, but we know better. We have seen the light. We have felt His love. & the darkness has not overcome it. He is more powerful than the dark. His love closer than our fear. {1 John 4:18. John 1:5, Closer by Tenth Avenue North}