Driven into the ground, you'll speak, you'll mumble words from the dirt--Your voice from the ground, like the muttering of a ghost. Your speech will whisper from the dust.(Isaiah 29:4, MSG) Okay, I'm just posting today without even the sixty seconds of my usual consideration. My brain is too fried by proposals and revisions to make much sense anyway. I'm feeling like a slug with a big fat "F" on my forehead (for failure in case you're wondering. I seem to think that's obvious. LOL) Isn't it funny how the enemy never comes with anything new (well, sometimes). But for the most part with me it's the same questions--Has God truly said? Are you really a mother, wife, writer, friend? You sure don't look like one. In truth, I don't. I can't even find stuff in my own town. My husband had to take on of the kids down to Gainesville for a dental appointment and I had to get us to a volleyball scrimmage. (I hear you laughing already) I COULDN'T FIND IT! In the dark everything looks different and we were about to run out of gas and somebody had to pee and an amazing idea came to me at the red light and...well we went to Dairy Queen instead. And my daughter apologized to ME because I missed Women's Bible Study to take her to the game. Kids are amazing like that, overlooking the slugdom of their mothers.I felt good for a second, until my husband called from the school wondering where we were. He'd timed his trip exactly to make it back for the game. He's good that way. Normal. :) I, on the other hand, am basically writing-only material. I guess that's a good thing. It sorta narrows down the options. Anyhoo, pray for me if you think of it. I just realized that Christmas is bearing down on me along with a revisions, deadlines, church stuff and all that. Every year I say I'm going to have some mythical Martha Stewart holiday where we do the entire advent calendar, put the tree up before Christmas Eve (a family tradition from my side that drives others crazy) and send ALL the Christmas cards before New Year's. 2006 is looking like a good year for it to happen... Oh yeah, I read a really good book this weekend. I devoured it in a few hours (at red lights even. That was a first, and not a very safe one). It's called Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson. It's a young adult novel that I've been meaning to read for a while. I see why it's won like every award known to man. Reminded me in some ways of Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli. YA is such a treat, especially when you're a grownup that can't find a junior high gym. This episode of MumbleJumble has now come to an end. Unfortunately, if you tune in next week, you'll probably catch another episode. Can a poem redeem this post? I so doubt it, but here goes: Sister/Whisper This is a whisper/sister/mumble As I follow/hollow/crumble Close my lies/eyes/tumble Ears to hear/fear/rumble YOU kiss a sister/whisper/humble "Forget your guilty/wilty/jumble Lean on Me and won't/don't/stumble I specialize in whisper/sister/mumble"
5 comments:
Words, falling like lily petals from your finger tips, making magic on computer screens. Thanks again, for the whispers of grace.
Right/Write on.
You comfort my soul, Mary.
Praying for you. That enemy'll do that kind of thing. You just remember, you have a God looming overhim and saying to you, "Mary, I got this one."
Keep writing. Keep praising.
While I'm stunned by your poem, I felt a cool breeze whiz through my spiky hair. Are you suprised? Sister Mary, I'll catch up to you some day.
Love,
Angie
I'm amazed sometimes how the old lies sneak into the new understanding of me. I fought them hard with swords of scripture scraps, prayers of a lioness. Then I sail along and believe, for a moment, that I am who God says I am. That He trusts me with things too large for me. That He will carry out the relationships and jobs He gives me and I will be fine. Then something happens, like a hard left to my jaw, and my head whirls to the side and my eyes, no longer on Jesus, flicker over the mouths voicing other opinions than His. Often the voices are human but somehow before they settle in my heart their words are twisted and the meanings are those of the demons. Too often I listen. I question the very things I know God gave me in the light. I question myself, my call, the work I have done. It happened last week with my writing. It happened this week with a different ministry. The pain knocked me over and I rolled in shock. What surprised me is that when it hurt too much to even pray, I could worship. And in the worship the truth started picking off the lies, little by little. Today I'm still working my way back the whole truth I've been given. Hope you're doing the same.
Oh Mary, you are good for my heart, and good for that mind of mine that races around all day saying that I need to do more, be more, and why am I so stressed out over so little. I'm so with you, and know all too well the feelings you were having as you wrote the post. Isn't it amazing how we allow the world to dictate how we're supposed to feel or how we're supposed to value what we do each day?
It's funny to read your comment wondering, Has God truly said? My pastor spoke about that last night, how when something happens that we want (or don't want), we assume it was God who did it, but it may not be the case. I do know that God is good, and my hope, my faith, my trust is in that knowledge.
But I know that you know that, as reading your posts often remind me of that simple fact.
I am praying for you, my friend.
Hugs!
Danica aka Dream
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