An open bloom inside me
A soft cushion of grace
Bursts forth from old darkness
And death's decaying waste
You found your way afar
Somewhere, wandering
Lonely in the shadows
In your heart's pondering
I don't know your words, now
Or your reasons, or your tears
But I hope that somehow
You will feel my love.
The tears I shed now, every day,
Every night to my pillow
My trembling voice offers this way
To join you in your suffering
If I could take it away, love
If I could take it back
If I could take you to heaven
I'd make up for what we lack
To see Jesus smiling
On our weakened souls
Happy in our grace
His strength to bestow
My heart is open here
Just a few breaths away
A backward glance, here
Healing from my dismay
Jesus. Jesus has not left.
Jesus will not leave you.
Jesus is your Right
Jesus will not deceive you.
Don't look left or right
Don't think it all Wrong
Just peer up to heaven
And God will restore your song.
My life as a Catholic Warrior Princess.
Tuesday, March 21, 2017
One soft thing
Hear me, please
When I cry
Out in the night
Of light, please
Bring me home
Darkness supplant
Tears bring me
Closer to thee
Closer to Thee
We three, me
And thee, and
Godhead ever
Don't be far
Don't be far
Never farther
Mine the pain
yours the fear
Ours to bear it
In my heart
ever art
Thou appearing
"Never alone"
You once said
now I know it
Come with me
we three, two
hearts in trouble
So in tears
Sown in tears
Give us tomorrow
Light the dawn
Find us home
With Thee ever
Let it be
Jesus, Oh
I believe it
Showered rain
Not in vain
All my sighing
In the night
seeking Thee -
Consolation
In his heart
ever art
Thou Consoling
Take my prayers
Take my heart
Take my weeping
Take my love
Take my pain
Take my dying
Take my cares
Take my fears
Take them with thee
Take my hopes
Take my prayers
Take my singing
Take my tears
Take my sighs
Up to heaven
Shower love!
Shower help!
Show Thy mercy!
On his heart.
On my heart.
We adore Thee
Make me soft
Make me kind
Understanding
Make me wise
Make my eyes
Only for you
Give me wings
A turn to sing
Please console him
Past my reach
Send my heart
A little farther
All to give
All to love
All I have now
Open wide
come inside
One Soft Thing Now
Is thine own
Is thine own
and ever shall be
In the night
I send you light,
Understanding
Please see me
Take comfort please
You aren't forsaken.
Thursday, March 16, 2017
Unfurled
All the banners of I've been under:
My father's, the church,
the crest over my heart on my school jumper
My place in the halls of learning
Bumper sticker theology
A daughter of dead soldiers
Catechumen to grace
And now sir, yours.
You unfurled it to press
To make ready the ramparts and comforts of home
Laundered and threads checked
Bed linens smelling of lavender and Spring Hope
Watered with the tears of years past
His heart and his heart and his heart
His rough words
Now soothed under the kind sound of your name
But taken aback!
Back! Back!
Sound the retreat and the scurrying of who-knows-who
Till lonely on the barren fields
I take hands with Uriah
And together we march on, alone.
My father's, the church,
the crest over my heart on my school jumper
My place in the halls of learning
Bumper sticker theology
A daughter of dead soldiers
Catechumen to grace
And now sir, yours.
You unfurled it to press
To make ready the ramparts and comforts of home
Laundered and threads checked
Bed linens smelling of lavender and Spring Hope
Watered with the tears of years past
His heart and his heart and his heart
His rough words
Now soothed under the kind sound of your name
But taken aback!
Back! Back!
Sound the retreat and the scurrying of who-knows-who
Till lonely on the barren fields
I take hands with Uriah
And together we march on, alone.
Wednesday, March 15, 2017
The spoils of hope
On almost sunny afternoons
A quiet heart is free to muse
On questions unasked
Sighs that fill those spaces
Between Fear and Knowing
All that has ransomed our plans
Where weaker minds and youthful
Dreams went unexplored
That land of weeping
Now swept with a fog
A rolling heaviness
Almost romantic
Books closed, tea unsipped
Pretty hands folded neatly on chintz
Naked fingers curl round
Some phantom we almost grasped.
And a deeper pain
A quieter pain
Spills tears, and goes silent.
Tuesday, March 7, 2017
"I have been dealt a blow, Jane. Dealt a blow."
Mr. Rochester had many secrets that he kept from Jane. They eventually came back to haunt him, to ruin their plans for marriage (since he had his wife locked in an upstairs room), and break Jane's heart. It took her wandering off across the moors, almost dying, setting up life in a new place and starting over, forgiving him somehow, turning down her cousin's (!) offer of marriage, Rochester losing everything and going blind, and her returning, for things to work out.
That's a lot of pain to suffer through for love.
Jane was 18.
Jane had her whole life ahead of her.
But not much because all she wanted to do was fly away and be free.
I cannot imaging how much her wedding being interrupted at the altar must have crushed her. I cannot imagine taking my next breath.
I have been dealt a blow.
Not quite as bad as Jane's but in the same vein.
I am suffering right now.
I feel like something very precious has been taken away from me.
I am hurting so badly.
I need prayers, please.
I don't have any secrets. My father has secrets.
My father told him not to marry me.
My father put conditions on me.
My father has cast a shadow over my life, even without being in it.
Here I am, wandering across the moors.
I am the first to admit I need help.
I am holding onto a few things, now:
Faith, my faith in Jesus Christ. Church attendance. The sacraments.
Grace. Hope that God really does love me, somehow.
Hope that there is help.
Hope that my father doesn't have the final say in my happiness.
Jesus.
That's about it.
Please pray for me.
Mr. Rochester had many secrets that he kept from Jane. They eventually came back to haunt him, to ruin their plans for marriage (since he had his wife locked in an upstairs room), and break Jane's heart. It took her wandering off across the moors, almost dying, setting up life in a new place and starting over, forgiving him somehow, turning down her cousin's (!) offer of marriage, Rochester losing everything and going blind, and her returning, for things to work out.
That's a lot of pain to suffer through for love.
Jane was 18.
Jane had her whole life ahead of her.
But not much because all she wanted to do was fly away and be free.
I cannot imaging how much her wedding being interrupted at the altar must have crushed her. I cannot imagine taking my next breath.
I have been dealt a blow.
Not quite as bad as Jane's but in the same vein.
I am suffering right now.
I feel like something very precious has been taken away from me.
I am hurting so badly.
I need prayers, please.
I don't have any secrets. My father has secrets.
My father told him not to marry me.
My father put conditions on me.
My father has cast a shadow over my life, even without being in it.
Here I am, wandering across the moors.
I am the first to admit I need help.
I am holding onto a few things, now:
Faith, my faith in Jesus Christ. Church attendance. The sacraments.
Grace. Hope that God really does love me, somehow.
Hope that there is help.
Hope that my father doesn't have the final say in my happiness.
Jesus.
That's about it.
Please pray for me.
Monday, March 6, 2017
Space between sighs
Shall there be dawn beyond the empty blackness?
That space between sighs
You've given me pain, Lord.
You've set me up for glory
Planned me a coronation
And then given me pain.
Why? What good could possibly be in this dust
Falling, crumbling between my slender fingers
I couldn't stop it for all the money in the world
just like I couldn't pay to calm your heart
I couldn't spend enough to pardon my own soul
To bring healing to the wounds
Caused by the rough words of a father
I didn't ask to be wounded.
I didn't ask to carry his cross
You could tie me to a rock
And blame me for not moving
Fast enough. Or now too slow
That molasses was sweet
But dripped in my eyes, and now I can't see.
He held my heart close to his
Safe in his dear rough hands
Carried to the place of treasure
In his sweet eyes
But then asked its price
Appraised its worth
Called down the sellers and the buyers
And now I've found myself in the dust
On the dust, under the dust
Made of dust
Ashes. Ashes and dust.
Terrified of which questions in my heart
I shall not ask. Shant ask.
Ashes and dust and diamonds and dust.
Once brilliant sun, now mocking me. Blinding me.
Shaming me.
Like the calendar on the wall which mocks my days.
Unfeeling papers planned before my time.
"The way it's always been".
Someone decided. But they didn't tell me.
That space between sighs
You've given me pain, Lord.
You've set me up for glory
Planned me a coronation
And then given me pain.
Why? What good could possibly be in this dust
Falling, crumbling between my slender fingers
I couldn't stop it for all the money in the world
just like I couldn't pay to calm your heart
I couldn't spend enough to pardon my own soul
To bring healing to the wounds
Caused by the rough words of a father
I didn't ask to be wounded.
I didn't ask to carry his cross
You could tie me to a rock
And blame me for not moving
Fast enough. Or now too slow
That molasses was sweet
But dripped in my eyes, and now I can't see.
He held my heart close to his
Safe in his dear rough hands
Carried to the place of treasure
In his sweet eyes
But then asked its price
Appraised its worth
Called down the sellers and the buyers
And now I've found myself in the dust
On the dust, under the dust
Made of dust
Ashes. Ashes and dust.
Terrified of which questions in my heart
I shall not ask. Shant ask.
Ashes and dust and diamonds and dust.
Once brilliant sun, now mocking me. Blinding me.
Shaming me.
Like the calendar on the wall which mocks my days.
Unfeeling papers planned before my time.
"The way it's always been".
Someone decided. But they didn't tell me.
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