Not About My Words

I held the pen over blank pages of my journal. A song plays in my mind, “Help yourself, don’t think. Help yourself, don’t speak. Help yourself, don’t say a thing at all.” I lay the pen down turning back the journal page to something I’d written down for remembrance the day before.

“Bring Me all that puzzles you. Many questions need no answer, for when the heart is at one with the Father, then comes an illumination of Spirit that transcends thought. Understanding becomes a state of heart rather than an achievement of the mind.”   

My soul finds contentment to be quiet. Today it’s not about my words at all, others have written it better. I reach over to turn up a worship song closing my eyes to be still. “It feels like there’s something that’s just beyond reach, and there is a wall that I’ve yet to breach. There is a truth that I finally see, I have no idea what I’m doing. And You are still there, and You meet me there, just beyond the breaking. There is a road less traveled upon, it buries a lover than there is a song, let’s all agree we should all get along, we have no idea what we’re doing. And You are still there, and You meet me there, just beyond the breaking.

*Come Away My Beloved by Frances J. Roberts, Just Beyond the Breaking by Jake Hamilton, All You Do Is Talk by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

Break The Glass

The music fades in and out while I still my soul, searching to hear the only voice that matters. Around me others are speaking out prayers and I try to listen to what is being said. Looking out the doors I can see through the glass, the feet of people outside going about life. At times their voices grow louder to me than those on the inside of the room.

I begin to drift between the two worlds; the voices praying for people to come inside, and the voices just outside the glass never knowing they were being invited. A lonely sensation engulfs my chest. If I am inside the room and feel this way, what must the hurting souls just outside the glass be feeling?

Lord, let us be those who break the glass and touch the real and hurting world…

Into The Blue

She sat staring out the window waiting; praying for rain while the sun was high in the sky. Looking upwards into the blue she couldn’t see clouds yet but believed them to be coming. Laying her head down upon the cushion of her couch she closed her eyes while questions assailed her mind. Each of them only offered doubt. Pushing them aside she prayed more, understanding. The rain would come and with it the change. Opening her eyes she saw into the blue and smiled.