What a fearful
What a holy
What an achingly beautiful thing--
To love.
There is no falling in.
It is an uprising,
A rebellion of breathtaking
glory.
We are lifted
Up.
And yet we
fall
Again--
And yet again,
In a giddy
And heart-starting
Instant.
We love,
even as we fall,
and are pulled upwards
Outwards beyond the edges of
Ourselves.
And we love.
God, we love!
In fearful--
holy--
riotous
wonder.
We love.
And then, let go.
Sinking
and sere,
we love
and let go,
Tumbling inwards,
Suddenly weighted
with tattered edges.
What was love
and aching beauty
and holy holy holy--
What was love
We let it
go.
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. I n the meantime, I wrestle with God, and my doubt and my joy. If nothing else, I've learned to make a mean cup of coffee.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment