Wait Silently

irr

To look for community instead of cocktail-party relationships is part of choosing sides in the vast, strange battle. To say, “I’m sorry”; to be silent; to say “I love you,” “I care.” It is these little things that are going to make the difference. For God chooses the foolish things of the world to confound the wise, the weak to overthrow the strong.

– The Irrational Season (1977) by Madeleine L’Engle

 

I’ve written about this before, I’m sure; I am writing to myself again. I long for community, real and true. I think I’m settling for cocktail-party relationships via social media. I see the words “I love you”, “I care” “praying” all over facebook, but what does it really mean? Is it so others can see you are so concerned? To do so in person is another kettle of fish all together.

 

It is not easy to say I’m sorry, especially I’m sorry without a but after it. However, it’s often too easy to say I love you  – love ya – as an alternate to see ya later. Said too easily and it looses its meaning. Saying I care may be harder; harder still to show you care in a tangible may.

 

But the hardest may be to be silent. Silent when you want to scream or cry or yell or explain or accuse or complain.

 

My soul, wait silently for God alone, For my expectation is from Him. – Psalm 62:5

 

Help me, LORD, to be silent. To show love and care.  To pray.

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Book Treasures

el

I love opening up a book and finding a surprise. I found three in the past two days. Yesterday, I found the sticker seen above. I googled it, and came up with three things

  1. A Greek vehicle manufacturer
  2. A German beer
  3. The Pakistani Elvis

elvo3

 

I think it is really LOVE, scrambled.

So, today I found two more unexpected things. First, a sad one, a card from a funeral.

Using my googling/detective skills, I found the memorial for this man on Find a Grave and posted the picture there. I’d like to think one of his friends left the card in my book. I got the book in either Florida or Alabama, I don’t remember, but Mr. Canavan was buried in Massachusetts.

My most exciting find was an autograph I’d completely overlooked. My copy of  The Bride of Innisfallen by Eudora Welty is actually SIGNED!! It’s inscribed to a Mrs. George Barrett. There is a copy online that is inscribed to someone and signed and it’s selling for $120. Think I’ll keep the book to myself a while;  just knowing she signed it makes me feel connected to her.

ew

A few years ago I found a baptismal certificate and photograph in a book. Using those skills of mine, I’m pretty sure I found the owner’s brother on facebook, but he never responded to me. I don’t think he was very active online. Now, however, I may pursue it once more. I’d love to be able to return the items.

There is a book  and blog called Forgotten Bookmarks that is about just these type of finds. I hope to get a copy of the book soon. In the meanwhile, I think it would be fun to write stories about the items I find.  If I do, I’ll post some here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Circumference of Love

 

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We love wherever we can love, and the power of that love spreads until the circumference of the circle of love grows wider and wider…even though I know to my rue that the circumference of my love is still much too small. – The Irrational Season (1977) by Madeleine L’Engle

I feel like I keep giving myself this same message; to love wherever I can love. And I also keep seeing that the circumference of my love is also still too small.

God’s word has told me: “If you love Me, keep My commandments.” – John 14:15

And what are these commandments? “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” – Luke 10:27

So, I think this circle of love begins with God’s love for me and my love for Him. The circumference can’t grow unless this is firmly established. After that, the boundaries can grow and stretch beyond measure.

The Meter of Our Lives

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Lives metered out in baby breaths

It seems some secret hand adjusts the metronome

And what do the miles on the odometer say?

work, work, work, play

Work, work, work, play

Though we think it flies and we think it drags

There is no meter that can measure

that elusive quality of time

Wake, wake, wake, sleep

Wake, wake, wake, sleep

the clock tells us

sixty seconds every minute

Sixty minutes every hour

Tick, tock, tick, tock

Tick, tock, tick, tock

We have a portion of time

Alloted from the beginning

Its rhythm is our own

Some melody, some cacophony

Some melody, some cacophony

Take care of the moments meted out

Fleeting and lovely

Store them up in memories

Reveries and dreams

Reveries and dreams

 

for PAD today…

Jasmine

dengarden

photo via dengarden

The PAD prompt for Day 28 was smell.

Jasmine

Every spring when the jasmine blooms outside my door
I close my eyes and I’m seventeen
I hear Simon and Garfunkel
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind
The world is full of promise
And unrequited love
A small gust blows me out of my reverie
But that jasmine
Makes me feel fine

His Day

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November, 2012 – Vilano Beach

Today’s prompt(s) were the Two-for Tuesday: Beginnings or endings . My poem is a combination of sorts.

His Day

His days often went backwards
He could not find his hat
He had to have that hat to get on the train
It was time to go
Where was his sandwich?
He knew his mother had made a sandwich
Tomato on white bread with mayo
“Here’s your hat. Just sit down
It’s not time to go yet.”
She said this nearly everyday
He sat
He dozed
When he awoke, Wheel of Fortune was on
They watched together
Sometimes he guessed the phrase before the contestants
At bedtime, he always kissed his wife goodnight
At the end of the day he knew her

Last year’s Day 4 prompt was Distance .  My baseball themed poem was Go the Distance

God’s Love

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Railroad Park – Bham

 

Today’s PAD prompt is ______ love. So simple. And yet…

 

God’s Love

My love

is not like God’s love

mine is on a sliding scale

of emotions

I think I’m constant

but I waver

like a playground seesaw

I am glad

God’s love

is not like my love

His love

is immutable

 

I also stumbled on a  PAD Day 3 post from 2013. 

midday

Wait for the Midday

Early morning sun

flickers through the trees

like an irregular heartbeat

light and shadows start the day

in my eyes and in my soul

makes me squint

makes me wonder

do I stay or do I go?

wait, my soul

wait for the midday

wait for the warmth

illumination will come

just wait

to see, to know

wait for the midday