About Me

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I write, mostly to keep my head from exploding. It threatens to do that a lot. My blog is the pixelated version of all the voices in my head. I tend to dive into what connects me to God, my community, my family and my doubt. I do a lot of searching, not as much finding. I’m good with that. I have learned, finally, to live comfortably in the gray. In the meantime, I wrestle with God, and my doubt and my joy.

Friday, August 18, 2017

Hope is an Action

I sent my hope out into the Universe.
Whispered and weightless,
I waited.

I waited to be struck whole,
made happy and healed.
I waited for peace to come.

But hope is an action.
It doesn't wait,
or come when called.
You will never save me
or bring me hope,
lying pure and clean
on platters of silver.

I hope with my feet,
not my head or my heart.
My heart will lie,
broken and bruised,
waiting for hope,
wishing for peace to come.

But hope is an action,
and peace is a verb -
to lift me,
to fill me,
allow me to soar.
When I hope with my feet
I am saved.
I am healed.
I am made holy once more.