poetry

On Becoming Real

People often tell me I'm authentic. I hope so, but I know it hasn't always been the case. My journey of understanding what it means to be real, and learning to embrace it, began years ago. When I was a youngster, I was a drama geek. I had no idea how uncool that was, but it didn’t matter because I loved it. One of my favorite plays was the Velveteen Rabbit in which I played “Crazed Jack in the Box” as well as “Real Rabbit #2.” I know. So, so utterly uncool. But there’s a beautiful scene where the Velveteen Rabbit is speaking with the Skin Horse, the oldest toy in the nursery. This is their conversation: “Real isn't how you are made,' said the Skin Horse. 'It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.' 'Does it hurt?' asked the Rabbit. 'Sometimes,' said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. 'When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.' 'Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,' he asked, 'or bit by bit?' 'It doesn't happen all at once,' said the Skin Horse. 'You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.” For much of my life, I lived in fear of moving close enough to people to let them love all of me. I feared they might reject the weaker, less appealing parts that I saw. I believed the lie that I had to be a certain kind of person, not too much, not too little, in order to be loved. For me, the journey to being authentic started with accepting that I am deeply, unreservedly loved by God and I have done nothing to earn it or deserve it. It is in letting him bring out all that I believe is unlovely in me and hearing, "yes, I love even this" that I have begun to allow others to see it as well. Paula Reinhart in Strong Women, Soft Hearts, says, [ictt-tweet-inline]"You can't really love people well unless you are at home in your own soul. You will simply be too afraid." [/ictt-tweet-inline] It is still a terrifying prospect to be simply me with others, and to waver in the hope that they will accept me just as I am. But when I come from a place of love, it gives me courage to truly be myself. And it's a beautiful thing, to be truly real with others. It is an opportunity for us to…

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Tell Me the Truth

It's important to tell ourselves the truth, but sometimes, we need others to do it for us. During this time of sabbatical, I have been reminded how desperately reliant I am on God and His truth, and how challenging it can be for me to invite others to carry me in the journey. Years ago, during a time of burnout, God spoke to me about this very need (so you could say I'm something of a slow learner). He led me to write this poem. Consider it an invitation to do this for me (and others) when you see the need arise: Tell Me Tell me the truth about myself Tell me things that free me from the worry cage I’ve built Tell me the upside-down things that correct the world’s twisted weavings Tell me there are rocks to rest on so I can come in from the storm Tell me things that breathe new life into this valley of dry bones Tell me again to draw my sword to cut through the enemy attacks on my soul They say there are no easy answers And I know. But there is One who answers still. Tell me what He would say when I’m weak and lonely and tired. Tell me to listen to Him. Tell me because sometimes I forget. Related: What Parents Really Need to Hear

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Gentle Whisper

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Last week I was on the internet going a little crazy following rabbit trails on some new writing websites I found. They were giving me ideas about how to improve my writing and expand my audience, and after awhile I realized that I had gone beyond, "Hmm . . . helpful input" to, "How do I get to be as amazing as these people?" and that, my friends, is when all wise people should close the computer and walk away. So I did. I went up into my room, sat in my corner chair, and just took a deep breath. I sat there until my heart was rested again and I could get God's perspective on the balance between wisely making the most of the opportunities He gives me, and trusting that what I have and who I am is where He wants me to be right now. It reminded me of Elijah, who sought God on a mountain. He waited and listened for God. First a powerful wind came. Then, an earthquake, and finally a fire passed by. God wasn't in those. God was in the gentle whisper. We have to step away from the noise from time to time to simply be in His presence, and listen to His voice telling us what's true. He comes most often in silence. I wrote a poem about this, back in my angst-filled, poetry writing days (I miss the poetry writing, but not the angst). Here it is, enjoy: My Bit of Heaven Not in the powerful wind, nor the earthquake, nor the fire, He came in the gentle whisper. I Kings 19:11-13 My soul longs for solitude, like a desert thirsts for water And somewhere out there, the solitude is calling me. In search of it I find Black cutout trees against an orange sky. Snow lays unbroken, pure, white as the peace it pours over me. A single leaf is hurried Scattering across the white in reckless ignorance to the stillness it is in, Too much like me. I breathe in the silence and realize I’m home. His gift to me is a bit of heaven filling my heart, loved poured in by the Spirit. I only find it in the gentle whisper.

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Self

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"If thou could'st empty all thyself of self like to a shell dishabited then might he find thee on the ocean shelf and say, 'This is no dead' and fill thee with Himself instead. But thou art all replete with very thou and hast such shrewd activity that when He comes, He says, 'This is enow unto itself, 'twere better let it be. It is so small and full, there is no room for Me.'" -Sir Thomas Browne This poem has been on my mind lately, as busyness and a general "I've got this" feeling have kept me from spending a lot of time with God. I'm thankful for a week where things have gone well, but I've noticed how easy it is in those times to let self fill in the spaces in my heart, rather than to leave that space for Him to speak. So my prayer is that God would help me to "empty all myself of self" so He can fill me instead.

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Bread Upon the Waters

This afternoon I had the opportunity to share a few thoughts about our transition at our World Wide Day of Prayer. It should be noted that until last night, I was imagining the WWDOP here the way it happened in previous years - about 40 of us in a basement sitting around tables. It was good for me to know, at least somewhat in advance, that we would be speaking in front of ALL the staff of Cru. Good thing public speaking is something I enjoy! As I shared, I was reminded of Ecclesiastes 11. I once spent a good part of a summer meditating on that chapter. If you read it, you will probably think, "Wow. Seemingly one of the more confusing ramblings of the Old Testament." But God really spoke to me through it, to the point where I wrote one of my favorite poems about it. And THAT is the point of my story. See, I always get around to it eventually. I wrote all that to introduce the fact that - ta da! - I want to share one of my poems. You might want to read Ecclesiastes 11:1-6 first to get some context. In short, what I read from it is, "You really don't know what God is going to do. Just focus on being filled with His Spirit and being expectant, and see what He does." Bread Upon the Waters Blow you winds where you will only let that it may be upon my back pushing me onward causing my life to be as bread upon the waters poured forth heedlessly yet anchored to You I will take no thought of it for where I fall, there will I lie as I am filled, therefore will I rain Rain upon the waters Life returning to life Take me, fill me, cast me out on the path of your wind O Maker of all things.

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