Saturday, July 22, 2017

Words, Like Children

i think it's not that i have no words.
i think it's that i don't recognize them.
i think the words are in there,
but look more like bits of shattered glass,
dirt thrown across the way,
piles of paper everywhere,
dried leaves and pressed flowers.
and the words are hiding too,
like children playing an innocent game,
some of them in my heart,
some of them in my marrow,
some of them gone further out into the field,
having forgotten that we were engaged in mutual affection.



Sunday, July 2, 2017

In The Desert

the things you see in hindsight ~
the real-life
life-flashes-before-your-eyes vision(s) ~
that you have what?
once?
one last time?

Friday, March 17, 2017

fresh start

all the time
i think,
post apocalypse,
or just one good emp,
and all the digital record will be gone.
i should write on paper,
i think,
but then it might be good,
i think,
to start fresh.

Bio-Degrading

I've been at the Bargain Box for a good, long time now ~ certainly long enough to say which of our problems are bigger than others.  Here's a list I'm working on:

- determine the problems in order of priority
- solve the problems in like order

Our ministry and our business issues ebb and flow like most things in life, but there's one particular thing, one solid pattern I've noticed through the years, and it's this:  if anyone ever gets the idea that we are throwing something away, there's a nearly instant sense of insult and injustice.

Please, no one person should feel I'm pointing directly.  It's been at every opportunity, I've noticed, whether I post to our page, or say something out loud, or carry something to the dumpster:

"Are you throwing that away?  Are you seriously just throwing that away?!  There's probably some homeless shelter nearby that could use that stuff.  Or an animal shelter.  Or a ... just ... anything, but throw it away!  That's just shameful."

I've learned to count to ten, remind myself that you just don't know what you don't know.

Here's another list of things we either have done or currently do with things we cannot sell:

- throw it away
- give it to homeless shelters
- give it to animal shelters
- give it elder care centers
- give it to Goodwill so they can bail it
- make grab bags so that folks can buy 20-40 articles of clothing for $1
- recycle every possible thing we can

But somebody's gonna stop at "throw it away."

We're in the season of Lent now, and people understand Lent in different ways.  For some people, it means they're getting rid of stuff, and that's really great.  We like it when people bring us their stuff, because selling it is how we support missions all around the world.

Take the 40 Bags in 40 Days Challenge1, just for instance.  In our particular case, lots of local folks are participating, and so lots of folks are bringing us lots of stuff.  At times, we have more stuff than we have the manpower to manage, and so we have to make some choices.  Refer to that last list.  I am regularly calling on our other sources to take some of our stuff, but guess what.  They also regularly have too much stuff.

One of my favorite things about Jesus was the way that he answered questions.

"Why's that guy blind?"
"Can't I just put her out?"
"Why's that woman wasting the good stuff?"
"Who do you think you are?"

He almost always answered with his own question and the question usually pointed to something that the seeker already knew.  It wasn't that people didn't know the answers.  It was that they didn't want to deal with them.








1 This girl's totally on the right track.  I recommend her articles.

Saturday, October 8, 2016

Housekeeping

A real writer probably would have pushed his pain through the pen, but I think no longer that's my calling in life.  Much can change in a year.

Found a new blogger who said,

where has she gone?  i suspect she is living.

Monday, February 8, 2016

Language Arts

photo source:  internet


you know that stupid-a$$ cliche'* meme about always being kind because everybody's fighting some kind of battle?


*(do I sound angry?
i think i sound angry.*)





but don't we all know this by now?

that we should always be kind?
that everybody's dealing with some kind of something?

but then

i want to shake people in the grocery store*:
"do you know what has happened?!"

[(*have i used this line before?)
(nothing under the sun is truly new. Ecc 1:9)]

and then 

i think about all the things i probably don't know about you

and then

about the things i do know

and how i've just lost touch

while i'm dealing with my own kind of whatever.

this has been a hard-a$$ couple of months, and

i'm really grateful for all the people who speak my language, and
who are kind and patient and forgiving when i use words that i shouldn't.

i pray to be as kind to you.



*i'm really not angry ~ not right this second, 
but (obviously) i've had to deal with angry.

Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Going The Distance

This'll only take a minute, and it won't be too awful bad, I think, but it needs doing because, you know, I have to do what I do.

...

I keep setting my glass down ~ so hard the water spills over ~ and blurting through tears at my husband, "but why?!"

Why was there so much distance between us?

We keep having this same conversation.
I keep reaching the same conclusions.
I keep finding my peace til the heartache rises up again.

Supposedly, time will slow this cycle.
I actually know that it will. ...

I've lost my sister now.  My little sister.  My only sister.

How did this happen?  I turned around for just a second...

But that's not the truth.  For many of these last years, there was a battle ~ I can't really say that we were opponents, but it was ~ between us.  Neither of us would be the victor in this lifetime, but that's for another time.

The point is that there was a distance between us, and since she's left me, I've sought the source and evidence of it.  In all my searching, however, I keep coming to peace.

It's a cycle.

Some days I feel weirdly okay, am a little freaked out even, by my ability to smile.

Other days.
It's as if my cord has unraveled.
Strands are missing.
I won't be complete again in this lifetime.
Selah.

...

I've always believed my momma and Jenny's friends knew her best.  But I've realized in these last days that I actually knew her better than I ever realized.  And so, in all likelihood, it was a mutual familiarity.  I actually know that it was. ...

I haven't written much lately for a number of reasons, but when I first attempted this, I looked over recent posts.  Nearly one year ago, I wrote this piece.  Finding it in recent days is how I finally know why I do this.  I don't even feel the need to explain.

My sister had a gift for photography.  And I mean a gift like ... I can't even.

She took the pictures.  I wrote the words.

I will keep doing what I do.

Though I am not satisfied with this piece.
Because there are not enough words.
There will never be enough words.
But my sister knows.
There is peace.
Selah.