prelude, the storm

I feel a little dramatic today... I'm just overwhelmed, recognizing God's mission and God's grace in my life, despite my humanness and all my short-comings.  He wants me and loves me in spite of all of that.  Wow. 

Trying to do some writing exercises, hoping to someday get back to writing regularly... anyway... writing churns up old memories that put me in a run of emotions...

But here goes again... maybe I'll try a brief poem/practice.

canoes capped at river's edge

slip in sleeping bags, hot summer eve

off Thunder Bay shore, that's not

where we slept, but I remember

thunder, true tent-shaking thunder

sent me to your face--and what it felt

for Habakkuk at cliffside with your

prelude, the storm

outside whirring, clashing; or how Judy awoke

soaking on her mattress in bedclothes, house torn

by tornado and only the calm of your hand

sustains: as I sleep, keep me safe

yet out-
side of comfort

next steps... and a whole lot of metaphors.

I'm being broken again...  It's been a while since I let God take hold of my heart completely... and I've been yearning for it for a while.  See, my friend's little boy, Uriah Nevins, was diagnosed with leukemia last week.  In it, I've seen both of his parents posting daily on facebook or the online journal they set up for him, about God's mercy, God's presence, His unfailing love.  Full-on trust in Jesus.

This makes me ache.  Ache because I know that I have been so far-off, and that it's horrible but miraculous that a tragedy like this kid's illness could wake me up from my slumber and set me back in the Father's arms.

There isn't much else to say here.  I am a little stunned, still feel like I'm wandering a little bit drunk after hearing the news of Uriah's illness and his family's unshakeable trust in the God who cares, who came, who lived, who died, who rose again so that we may live.

And how to go about living when you've experienced this kind of grace.  So what's my next step?