Like honey on my lips

Last Tuesday after BCM Bible study a group of people stayed late, like really late until nearly midnight discussing important and difficult Biblical questions. Namely: Did it rain before the flood? Haha seriously, that’s what they discussed for nearly two hours after the main Bible study ended, complete with looking in various translations and reading footnotes or whatever they’re called in the Bible, arguing the semantics of different verses, et cetera. Pretty crazy but definitely interesting to listen to, especially when Michael got all worked up over it and shouted about being right. No conclusion was reached obviously, and I certainly don’t know the answer but now it’s actually got me curious. I don’t even know why it’s important but … what do you think, if you think anything at all? Did it rain before the flood? Or did a mist just come up from the ground and that was it? Or something else that wasn’t even considered?

—

Yesterday I wore boots with a bit of a heel and today my feet are angry about it. Delayed reaction? Yeah. Why oh why must the library be so far away? Today I also learned from Miranda that: (1) you should never eat something if you pull it out and it smells like pine sap, and (2) it is indeed possible to get shredded cheese in your sock … while you’re wearing it. Oh my.

—

In the past week I have ordered Women of the Bible: 52 Stories for Prayer and Reflection by Ann Spangler, No Graven Image by Elizabeth Elliot (which I got yesterday), and have also been working on scanning Cracked: Putting Broken Lives Together Again by Dr. Drew Pinsky (whom I love beyond love and whose book I was very sad to learn was out of print because I found it so late). Must. Stop. Buying. Books. But wow this new world of Amazon buying and scanning so I can read them with the Braille display is addicting. So many more possibilities for reading this way, and they’re usually so cheap, and I can giv them away afterward and share my love/obsession of words and omg! Haha I love books, and this is an idea that should’ve occurred to me sooner but didn’t until Miranda started doing it. Thank you wonderful writers for writing so many wonderful books.

—

In two weeks it will be my birthday. I will be twenty. What? Really? Surely not, I think it’s a mistake. I was never meant to be in the ‘adult world’, doing whatever it is adults do. I don’t wanna grow up, I’m a Toys R Us kid and all that, except not really because I’m absolutely terrified of Toys R Us and will never set foot in one of their stores again. I will live in denial until I am old and gray and rocking chair-bound, and even then I can claim senility and pretend I’m still a Rollerblade Lego Rugrats puddle-jumping tree-climbing fruit snack kid. Or I can drown my sorrows in all the lovely lovely books I’m going to make people buy me and pretend I’m going to grow up to be a successful English teacher in a foreign country and get to see and do all the things I wish for, until the world slaps me in the face with a real university and then it’s back to plan A.

—

Right now I am shutting up, off to shower and gym it before Bible study at nine. Then homework at some painfully late hour when I should [and would much rather] be sleeping. Oh busy busy me. Happy days.

 

Just don’t turn away

I am overflowing.

Miranda and I went to Parkview to visit everyone on Thursday and we had a talk with Mr. Pack. Always such awesome talks with him, he knows so many things and he likes to ramble on about them haha, I always feel like I’m back in class but it’s great. He told us that there are more foreign missionaries going out and spreading love and healing to other places than there are American ones now, Miranda’s mom thought it was sad but we both thought it was wonderful and exciting and just, wow. It’s what we’re trying for, at least what I think we should be trying for and we shouldn’t be sad that we’re being overtaken, we should be thankful and happy that so many others are coming to Christ and bringing Him to others who need Him, and motivated to do more, be more. And he told us about some people who were going into a foreign place to do missionary work and they were told to ship their things in a casket instead of a suitcase because they were probably going to die within two years from all the diseases they have there, and the people still went and were ready and willing and shipped their things in caskets like they were told to. Love it, love it. At first I was like ‘wow how morbid and sad and scary’ but then I was humbled, I don’t think I would be able to do something like that and it’s like a slap in the face that I really need sometimes. As he said we’re sleeping through our faith and all these difficult times and we just … need to wake up. Wow.

And then he was telling us about this Perspectives course he’s taken like four times now, and how he gets annoyed when students come in for class because he’s so into the reading and homework and stuff, lol, and he ordered us to do it next spring because he’s getting certified to set up a class in Muskogee. So exciting, it definitely sounds like something I want to do and he said he would get the recordings of the missionaries who come and speak each week and give them to us to listen to. He wants us to read Brian Hogan’s book There’s A Sheep In My Bathtub so he got an audio copy and will give it to us in a week or so after his daughter is finished with it. But he wants to pass it on to a lot of people so we have to read it pretty fast. Aaahhh it was a day full of lovely things and the loveliest of all is that William P;. Young is coming to Tulsa! That’s so much closer than where we were originally going to see him and I am beyond excited even though I have no idea what he’s speaking about. It sounds like an exaggeration but “The Shack” really was a life-changing book for me and it’s amazing that I’ll get to hear him speak about it.

There’s more, so much more. I feel like my heart is going to burst wide open and spill all these things out into my little personal bit of the world which probably isn’t ready for them. When I got this blog I was planning to update more and not always about these things but I’m through trying to be quiet and discrete about something so huge, something that should be my entire life and not just a part of it. I’m tired of trying to keep friends around who aren’t where I am and don’t feel what I’m feeling and can’t accept that it’s the greatest and most real thing I’ve ever been a part of. I tiptoe around it and walk on eggshells so I can make them comfortable enough to stick around but I don’t know why I should bother, it’s not worth it. I’m happy, really happy and I don’t need this cloud hanging over my head. I’m not really ready to write about the rest of it yet, I’ve only talked about it with Miranda and Coach (who I only met Thursday night but who was more of an encouragement to me than most people are these days), just pray for me if you’re the praying sort. It’s part wonderful, part terrible and I’m warring with myself over it so just … keep me in mind. Thank you all for being wonderful.

I made an A on my first algebra test and a B on the psychology one which I studied for about an hour before I took it. I have a possible potential major and rest-of-college plan, I wrote a poem which is here if you happen to want to read it, and now I really need to stop writing and take my clothes out of the drier and take a shower. Going to Miranda’s for the evening and to church tomorrow morning, Jerry is coming back for two weekends because the song leader is off to Israel and I’m so excited to see him again. I want to update more so I don’t have to cram so many things into every post but I’m busy, busy and when I’m not I’m tired, tired. It’s really nice. Anyway byyyyye!

—

Pretty blue eyes and curly brown hair and a clear complexion
Is how you see Him as He dies for Your sins
But the Word says He was battered and scarred
Or did you miss that part
Sometimes I doubt we’d recognize Him

Cause my Jesus bled and died
He spent His time with thieves and the least of these
He loved the poor and accosted the comfortable
So which one do you want to be?

Cause my Jesus would never be accepted in my church
The blood and dirt on His feet might stain the carpet
But He reaches for the hurting and despises the proud
And I think He’d prefer Beale St. to the stained glass crowd
And I know that He can hear me if I cry out loud

I want to be like my Jesus!
I want to be like my Jesus!

Not a posterchild for American prosperity, but like my Jesus
You see I’m tired of living for success and popularity
I want to be like my Jesus
But I’m not sure what that means, to be like You Jesus
Cause You said to live like You, love like You but then You died for me
Can I be like You Jesus?
I want to be like my Jesus

 

Be Mine

I know I just posted last night but …

13 Feb 2009

Rachel Olsen

“
My lover is mine, and I am his.” Song of Solomon 2:16 (NLT)

While I spent the last few months thinking about Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s, another group of people likely spent it focused on Valentine’s Day: greeting card writers. Valentine’s Day is the second-biggest card-buying holiday besides Christmas. More than 200 million cards will be exchanged this weekend. That’s a lot of love.

Have you ever watched somebody pick out a greeting card for someone special? Growing up, my family owned a chain of Hallmark stores where I worked as a sales clerk. The occasional customer would breeze in, look at two or three cards and then head to my cash register. However, most would spend 10, 20, even 30 minutes reading through cards, searching for the just right expression of love.

In Christ, God sent us the ultimate Valentine. “This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life” (John 3:16, The Message). Whole and lasting, two things we desperately seek but rarely find in this world. Long after the greeting cards I might receive are forgotten, I know that God’s love for me endures.

Jesus demonstrated His love for us and taught us how to live and love each other. He received criticism, testing and rejection — and yet gathered strength from God to turn the other cheek. Jesus prayed for us, and His enemies. He even suffered crucifixion in order to save us from our sin. Jesus is God’s perfect expression of love. His life and death are God saying to me and you, “Be Mine.”

Yes, God loves us so much that He gave us His most valuable gift, Himself. And after Jesus rose from the grave and ascended back to heaven, God sent His Spirit to remain with us. As He shares Himself with us through His Son and His Spirit, God says, “You are my beloved.” Hearing that is better than any sentiment the best card-writer could pen. God Himself, given for you and me – as well as anyone willing to open their heart to Him — demonstrates the ultimate expression of love. Like melt-in-your-mouth chocolates from a heart shape satin box, He invites us to taste and see that He is good.

Close your eyes and hear Him whispering to you today, “Be Mine.”

 

In case you care, Xanga is now here.

Today I got lost on my own for the first time since being at school. And I didn’t have my phone with me to call anyone, score one for me. I thought I knew where I was going and I still think I did but I don’t know, maybe I was off center or at some weird angle or something and maybe I crossed a crosswalk without even realizing it (which is actually pretty scary), but it still doesn’t make any sense to me. I only had to walk straight for a while and then turn left and follow a sidewalk until I turned right to the steps to my dorm. Only I could manage to mess that up. I was actually more angry than freaked out or anything like that because there were lots of people around so it’s not like I couldn’t have asked for help, but I know that area and where I need to go and it was annoying me that I couldn’t figure it out. But then I was just standing there waiting for a truck or something to pass and this guy came walking toward me and was like ‘Miranda, do you need help?’ Haha so I told him who I actually am and figured out who he was (Jacob, Crystal’s friend) and he helped me get to the dorm. He’s talltalltall and doesn’t sound a bit like I thought he did which is very weird and confusing, but whatever. Ha. So I went in and had a rant to Miranda about the whole thing and it was all good, but that’s the first real blindie moment I’ve had in aaaaaages. Ugh.

My sister and Anthony have decided to put off their wedding which honestly relieves me, I was weirded out by that whole thing. Not that he’s weird or anything, just that they’re so young and have been dating for such a short time (at least when you start thinking about marriage) and they’re struggling so much with money at the moment. And she needs a root canal and went out this evening to buy a $400 phone she doesn’t really need. I’m ridiculously cheap and frugal and I know this, but honestly it makes me sad how set we all are on getting our material possessions, staying ahead of everyone else and feeling security in the knowledge that we have the latest and greatest of everything. It’s all so temporary and it doesn’t really matter and we need to prioritize, prioritize. I mean a nice shiny new cell phone isn’t going to be much good if your teeth are falling out and your gums are swelling and you can’t talk on it, or text because you’re high on pain meds. Haha, dramatic I am. But anyway, no wedding dress shopping for meeeee. Yay.

Happy Valentine’s Day if you’re into that. My parents aren’t doing anything special for it (or so they say) and Miranda’s family are supposed to be going camping even though it’s going to be coooooold, so obviously we’re not too enthusiastic. Haha. I bought myself a Valentine milk chocolate bar and then left it at school which makes me very sad, but my mom got me cookies which makes me very happy. I wanted to get myself one of those Hallmark cards and record myself a message (yes I’m serious) but I never got around to that. So anyway, hopefully you have fun with whatever you decide to do even though the day itself is lame.

My newest playlist, springy songs that make me feel upbeat/content:
Girl Inform Me / Red Rabbits / Sea Legs – The Shins -
Feelin’ Good – Michael Buble -
Good Day Sunshine / Here Comes the Sun – The Beatles -
Mushaboom – Feist -
Passing Afternoon – Iron and Wine -
Wouldn’t It Be Nice – Beach Boys -
Mykonos – Fleet Foxes -
General Specific – Band of Horses -
Brand New Colony – Postal Service -
The Way You Do the Things You Do – The Temptations -
Do You Believe In Magic – The Lovin’ Spoonful -
Never Let You Go – Third Eye Blind -
Accidentally In Love – Counting Crows
[I need more!]

Current favorite songs (this changes frequently):
General Specific / Our Swords – Band of Horses (both so pretty and catchy) -
Ghosts / My Manic and I – Laura Marling (sad, haunting, beautiful) -
White Winter Hymnal – Fleet Foxes -
Inside Outside – Delirious (I am seriously addicted to this song, love it) -
Sweetly Broken – Jeremy Riddle

And now, bed. Home for the first time in three weeks, definitely looking forward to some really good and hopefully extended sleep.

Oh and PS. Congratulations to Miranda (and Natalie and Crystal and everyone else I don’t actually know) for being awesome Presidential scholars with a ‘hunger to learn’. Even though Miranda has more of a hunger to skip classes and sleep all the time. Haha. And I love rain, lovelovelove. My Pac Mate doesn’t, though. Oops. Shoot me, I haven’t read a single verse since the week before last. Argh! Okay bye!

 

Leave me a secret.
http://seafoamwaltz.livejournal.com/38606.html

—

I almost didn’t make it out of bed for church this morning–1AM return from the store will do that to a person. But finally I rolled out and woke Miranda, got ready in less than an hour and skipped breakfast to make it on time. It was definitely worth it. I had the strongest feeling that it would be but I often try to ignore my strong feelings because I think they’re just my indecision warring with itself. It couldn’t be God, couldn’t be His voice speaking to me, not me. This time I listened and the sermon was wonderful and the Bible study afterward was wonderful but it was really the singing that did it, the singing always does for me. Something about so many voices unashamedly unapologetically raised in unison, filling the room with ‘you’re the God of this city, you’re the King of these people, you’re the Lord of this nation, you are. You’re the light in this darkness, you’re the hope to the hopeless, you’re the peace to the restless, you are. There is no one like our God, there is no one like our God. Greater things have yet to come, and greater things are still to be done in this city’.

So simple, so simple but I felt so happy to be there in that one particular moment, sharing what all their voices were sharing and going where all their hearts were going. I don’t know, I don’t know how to say it in words but it’s the one thing that takes away all my negative feelings towards organized religion and makes me remember that we’re all worshipping the same God. We’re all just souls searching for contact, whatever else we might be and I definitely need to be reminded of that because sometimes, I get really stuck on seeing ‘what’s wrong with this picture’ when I should be focused on what the artist is trying to say.

And then there was Chinese food, well at least a Chinese restaurant but I ate fish and salt and pepper shrimp and fried potatoes and it was really quite delicious. Valerie and Natalie and Rowdy had a discussion about marriage and dating customs and how it’s all changed over the years, and it made me think all over again how silly the whole thing is. If I ever meet the right person, whatever right means and whoever that is, it’s going to be ‘love love love, nothing but love love love’. None of the structure and none of the rules, nothing forced. But I’m not very worried about it at all since I don’t really feel like it’s part of the plan, and I know it’s not just my plan to make but I really don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable putting down roots like that and giving so much to someone so temporary. Maybe I’m wrong, time will tell.

Anyway, I’ll really stop rambling now and finish this post so I can go and study for my developmental psych test tomorrow. We went to the park after lunch, Miranda and her mother and I, walked and walked and collapsed on a bench in the sun. There were little kids and ducks and dogs and skateboards and it was all really nice. The kind of day that makes me wish I could take pictures. We had some nice discussions about religion and customs and that, and got her mom in on our plan to see William P. Young in April (so awesome that he’s actually coming to Oklahoma, excited excited), and then we went to her house and played with her dog, had ice cream and came back to school. It was a lovely Sunday, the kind I haven’t had in ages and I’m very glad I managed to drag myself out of bed for it. I’m sure you’re not glad for having to read this endless post, but I really do need to study so at least it’s coming to an end now.

On a final note: I am sick. It’s pretty lame. My throat feels raw and angry and my nose is so stuffed up and I spent most of yesterday feeling achy and tired and a bit fevery. And hobbly from [over]doing lunges, but that one is my own fault so I guess you can laugh at me if you’re so unkindly inclined. End.

 

Natalie called ten minutes after I woke up today (meaning Wednesday), asked if I wanted to go to lunch so I hurried into clothes, brushed my teeth and hair and went out into the ice and snow for the first time this storm. Had lunch and then she said they were planning to go to a friend’s house and do four-wheelers and the like, so I decided to go for that, too. Not an easy decision if you know me and my fear of people, four-wheelers, the world. Ha. But I rode them all and thought I would pass out on one of them, ate hotdogs and marshmallows over a fire and had more pictures taken than I think I ever have before. Hiding from cameras is a hobby of mine. I felt a bit sorry for Marcus (the guy whose house we went to) because I don’t think he was particularly a fan of my general silence, but nothing I can really do about that. Constantly my mother says ‘you have to talk to people, socialize, socialize’ and constantly I say nothing. Nothing. Talking is not an easy thing for me to do unless I know a person REALLY WELL. I can talk to Miranda, and James, and Derek, but very few others. It’s something I would like to change, but it’s a very slow process. If only they knew what a huge thing just this day was for me.

Anyway, it was nice, awkward blindie/sightie interactions and silences aside. I smell like campfire smoke now and I was an icicle when we got back, but I enjoyed it all, even the near death by four-wheeler I was positive I was going to suffer every time I rode another one. I think my mother would probably have a fit if she heard about it, but maybe that’s part of the problem. Time to stop worrying about that and live, live. Time to make her stop worrying about it, too. We both need a little freedom. She worries about the roommates and their idiotic drunken friends, and I shrug it off, ‘they’re harmless, stupid, just a little loud’ but really they scare me more than that. Drunken males always scare me and there’s something very creepy about these, I even go so far as to keep the door locked when they’re around. And that fear makes me angry. There are many fears in a world without sight but I think this, the fear of an uninhibited male, is one of the worst. It makes me feel trapped in a place where I feel like I have a right to be comfortable.

How do I always manage to go off on these crazy random tangents? Ha. The original point was, I had fun and it was a quiet huge deal and poor Marcus and poor Sarah who was so unsure and Natalie is adorable. And campfire smoke is a nice smell, but maybe not so much when I bring it back with me. And God please help me to overcome my obstacles, the ones I struggle with silently inside myself, the ones I sometimes don’t even notice until they’re thrust at me in a situation like that one. And if I can’t overcome them now, then at least help me not to feel so defeated by them.

Marcus offered to turn on a light for me when I was going down some steps in his house and then was very embarrassed and apologetic. Sarah asked me if I liked to ‘listen to TV’. Marcus was a bit awkward about asking me directly about my blindness and wanted to know if I ever got carsick. These are the things that make me smile. The only things that don’t make me feel my obstacles every second. And Natalie and Ashley’s coyote calls and random bursts of song and radio turned up and squealing pigs and horses and hay … so many nice things. Bed is another nice thing. Let’s go see about that.

—

At the cross You beckon me
You draw me gently to my knees, and I am
Lost for words, so lost in love,
I’m sweetly broken, wholly surrendered

 

“I was walking on my private beach, and I looked into my diamond ring and had a vision that God was telling me to ask you for more money.”
~ my stepdad, talking about a televangelist

We went to Los Cabos for dinner tonight, as a birthday/engagement celebration for my sister and her fiance. Pink penguin balloon animal from the clown lady and ‘happy birthday’ from the mariacci band and food, food, food. Cheeseburger burrito (which is just another name for a beef and bean burrito with melted cheese on top), enchiladas, chips with queso and guacamole, and hot, sweet, delicious sopapias. It was a pretty good time–finally got to meet Barba (whose real name is Jessica) and catch up about school and things. The rest of the family didn’t come, said they couldn’t afford it even though they said they were coming just three days ago, but oh well.

My sister is twenty-one, I can hardly believe it, and I will be twenty in March. I can’t believe that at all. We were just piling up blankets and pillows to dive from the top bunk bed and play swimming pool, just making pies and biscuits and mashed potatoes out of dirt and wood blocks and putting them in the sun to warm, just playing airplane in the loft. And then, blink of an eye and she’s engaged, I’m in college and we’re living, living. Always moving forward, but where are we going? What are we hurrying to? Once we could take the time to say our prayers every night, pray for everyone we knew and plenty of people we didn’t, pray for our animals and everyone up in heaven, and now we can’t even take time for a phone call. ‘I love you.’ No, we can just text them, squeeze them in while we’re doing other things, important things. Always such important things. ‘Oh, I’ve just been so busy.’ Our loved ones are relegated to just another checkmark on an endless to-do list. Sad, sad.

Ummm. Sorry, I really didn’t intend to go off on that ramble. Ha. It was a nice evening, and now I’m home in sweats, with cats and an electric blanket and a good book. Perfection. Think I’ll make some hot chocolate and eat the leftover sopapias.

—

“Baby Jah-Love,” Ping Chong sang. “Why are you so sad? Once I was sad like you. And then I met Valentine in a rain forest in Jamaica. He appeared out of the green mist. I had been dreaming of him and wishing for him forever. When I met Valentine I wasn’t afraid anymore. I knew that my soul would always have a reflection and an echo and that even if we were apart—and we were for a while in the beginning—I finally knew what my soul looked and sounded like. I would have that forever, like a mirror or an echoing canyon.”

Ping stopped, seeing Witch Baby’s eyes. She knew Witch Baby was thinking about Raphael.

“Sometimes our Jah-Love friends fool us,” she said. “We think we’ve found them and then they’re just not the one. They look right and sound right and play the right instrument, even, but they’re just not who we are looking for. I thought I found Valentine three times before I really did. And then there he was in the forest, like a tree that had turned into a man.”

Witch Baby wanted to ask Ping how to find her Jah-Love angel. She knew Raphael was not him, even though Raphael had the right eyes and smile and name. She knew how he looked—the angel in her dream—but she didn’t know how to find him. Should she roller-skate through the streets in the evenings when the streetlights flicker on? Should she stow away to Jamaica on a cruise ship and search for him in the rain forests and along the beaches? Would he come to her? Was he waiting, dreaming of her in the same way she waited and dreamed? Witch Baby thought that if anyone could help, it would be Ping, with her quick, small hands that could create dresses out of anything and make hair look like bunches of flowers or garlands of serpents, cables to heaven. But Witch Baby didn’t know how to ask.

“Wishes are the best way,” said a deep voice. It was the voice of Valentine Jah-Love. He had been building a set for Los Diablos and had come home to eat a lunch of noodles and coconut milk shakes with Ping.

Valentine sat beside Ping, circling her with his sleek arm, and grinned down at Witch Baby. “Wish on everything. Pink cars are good, especially old ones. And stars of course, first stars and shooting stars. Planes will do if they are the first light in the sky and look like stars. Wish in tunnels, holding your breath and lifting your feet off the ground. Birthday candles. Baby teeth.”

 

Because I don’t already have enough blogs, I’ve started this one. All my blogs serve different purposes, although they all have some things in common, some cross-posts. If you’re a reader of the others, forgive the repeated content you may see here. This is the only one that’s been given to people I know personally, in ‘real life’, so expect some more general day to day things than what I post to the others. But also bits of poetry, lyrics, videos, whatever inspires me at a given moment. In part an expanded version of my Tumblr.

 

Anyway, enough introduction blah blah blah. Since I’m nearly dead with exhaustion and I don’t have anything significant to post at the moment, have some lists, and a poem. Not written by me, I can only wish. Written by William P. Young, who wrote “The Shack”. Read it if you haven’t already, it’s beautiful.

 

—

 

Things I miss at school that I’m currently enjoying at home:
my cat -
my bed -
the quiet -
the comfortably cool temperature (it’s always hot in the dorm because I have a war going on with the roommates over the thermostat thing) -
singing -
feeling comfortable around the people I live with -
no phone!!!

 

Songs I am especially enjoying at the moment:
Blindside – Pitiful (so much emotion, makes me want to cry, omg) -
Tool – Opiate (Maynard Keenan, what else needs to be said?) -
Red – Never Be the Same
Chasen – Crazy Beautiful
Serj Tankian – Elect the Dead (just amazing and unexpected)
Mr. Big – Next to Be With You (corny cheesy mush, but so goooood)

 

Books I have read in the past two weeks:
Love, Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli (gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous)
Witch Baby by Francesca Lia Block (my writing idol in every way)
I Am An Artichoke by Lucy Somethingorother
Catch-22 by Joseph Heller (currently rereading)

 

—

 

Wind Rumors
William P. Young (taken from his lovely blog)

The Wind…you don’t know where it comes from, you don’t know where it’s going…so is every person who is born of the Spirit. Philip Yancey has a book, “Rumors
of Another World”…Bruce Cockburn has a song, “Rumors of Glory” both speaking to the penetration into this world that seems to us so real, so solid, so
torn…of something else, a taste barely tangible yet lingering, a glimpse that escapes our direct look, something about freedom…and forgiveness, or was
it a ’surprise by Joy’, illusive and exquisite. The world of cause slipping in and out of this dimension of effect, leaving behind a trace, a tear, a touch,
a whisper, a soft pain, a longing. This world tries so desperately to dispel these rumors, whether with barbwire or acid verbs, but how can you stop the
wind? You can only know it was here because it rustled the leaves and kissed your cheek as He blew by.

Breathe in me…deep

That I might breathe…and live

And hold me close that I might sleep

Soft held by all you give

Come kiss me wind

And take my breath

Till you and I are one

And we will dance among the tombs

Until all death is gone

And no one knows that we exist

Wrapped in each other’s arms

Except the One who blew the breath

That hides me safe from harm

Come kiss me wind

And take my breath

Till you and I are one

And we will dance among the tombs

Until all death is gone