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Writings

Grey Days

I like grey days.

Don’t get me wrong, I like to dance in the sunshine.  But there is something about the blue-grey feeling like the color of a far-off bank of clouds when a storm is brewing that makes me want to snuggle down under a blanket on the couch and enjoy a nice, silent cry like a gentle rain.  It’s strange how comforting, how safe, a little bit of melancholy can feel sometimes.  Like it’s proof that I am capable of feeling more than just happiness, that I have more weather within my soul than just boring old sunshine all the time.  That’s one of the things that drove me batty about Los Angeles – it was clear skies and beautiful weather every day for months, and I missed the variety of my home.

The problem, though, is that it is easy to get too comfortable with the blue-grey feeling.  Being the artistic person that I am, I relish a little bit of sorrow, even though if asked, I would say I don’t like to be sad.  It somehow seems more alive than mere brightness, and it is felt more deeply than prancing through the clouds.  It is also more sustainable than flying, and one can’t come crashing to the ground if one is cozily ensconced in a bubble of soft weariness.  But if I spend too much time wallowing in my self-indulgent blue-grey emotions, they begin to turn the darker black of storm clouds and begin to block out the sky, so that even if I want to leave them behind and return to the sunnier feelings, I can’t.  I’ve tied a rock around my own neck, and the more I try to break away from the sad thoughts, the more I dwell on them, and the more I dwell on them, the heavier the rock grows.  As the weight increases, my head is pulled downward until even if the clouds cleared, I wouldn’t know it, because all I can see is the darkness of my own mind; I can no longer lift my eyes to look at the sky.

And sometimes, the best thing I could do when my feelings turn blue-grey is to sleep.  Too bad today is one of my long days…I could really use a nap right about now.

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Sometimes, I wonder…

Note: This is actually a post I began 8/16, but then moving and trying to catch up got in the way…I’m now finishing it. 🙂

Sometimes, I wonder if I look to God like my dog looks to me.

My dog loves to play.  Not as in, “she doesn’t mind playing if I happen to decide to throw something for her,” but “she will spend half her day begging me to go outside so we can play.”  If I would throw the ball all day, she would chase it all day, except for minimal breaks to catch her breath.

She’ll start around 10am, even though I took her for a walk at 5:30 and went out to play with her around 8am, after I got back from my bike ride, and even though we NEVER go outside to play again until after I finish lunch at around 12:30pm.  She lays by the back door and whines every once in a while, gradually increasing in pitch and intensity until she yips and I scold her for barking in the house.  If I’m upstairs, she’ll follow me into whatever room I’m in, lay down, and whine.  She may come up to me and shove her head under my arm as if to say, “Aren’t I cute??”  Finally, when the time rolls around, we play, and she flops down happily on the floor after we come back in.

Then around 1:30 or 2pm, she’ll start up again, even though we usually don’t go out again until my husband gets home around 4pm.  Any time I make any move towards the back door on the bottom level, even if it is simply taking a step in the general direction of the stairs if I am upstairs, starting to stand up, or making a motion towards the back door if I am downstairs, she jumps up and runs eagerly to the back door.  I may just be walking from the kitchen to the dining room or going downstairs to get the sponge I left down there, but because she wants so badly to play, she interprets anything I do as an indication that I am about to do what she wants.  Why doesn’t she learn that there are certain times of day at which we will play, regardless of whether or not she has been whining the last two hours, and that there is no sense in getting herself over-excited during the time in between?

And then I wonder if God sees me and my antics that way.  I have my own ideas of what I would like my life to look like, what I’d like to be doing, and where I envision myself in a few years (in my dreams), but I want to follow His will for me…which I don’t know.  And so I watch for any little clues, any indicators that might suggest which way He wants me to turn, and jump at anything that looks like it is headed in the direction I want to go.  Whether or not His plans line up with that, I know He has a certain time at which He intends them to reach each point…and which may be later than when I’d like them to.  And yet I bounce around, trying to guess what I should be doing and where I am going, wanting it to happen NOW.   I can’t seem to learn to wait until the time comes. 

I’m no better than my hyper puppy…


The Blessedness of Not Knowing

The blessedness of not knowing
Would never have crossed my mind
As something incredibly desirable
Or even a blessing.

I like to know
I want to see
I feel safe with control.

But when all my supports disappear
And I find myself grasping at straws
Desperate for a rock to cling to
(Forget trying to stand),
I find great peace and freedom
In simply trusting my God
And relinquishing control,
Letting go of the need to know.

I cannot see tomorrow;
I cannot even see this afternoon
(Forget my whole future!)

Instead, I am learning to trust,
To simply trust God to show me the next step
Neither too soon, nor too late,
But in His perfect timing.

It is hard.  I want to see.

But my only hope is in trusting my Rock,
In surrendering my all to Him
In not trying to second-guess
But laying aside speculation
And asking Him for the grace
To be satisfied with my daily bread
And to follow my Shepherd
Like a gentle lamb,
My own desires laid aside.

Oh, how hard!  I want…

But I want Jesus
I tire of complacency
I want reality
I want to know
And I find what I want, ironically,
Through the blessedness of not knowing.

3/1/05

My next project is choral, so I need lyrics…lyrics…so I was looking through old poems to see if any of them could be adapted.  Don’t know if I could make a song out of this one, but I like it. 🙂