Follow the String

I'm running trying to catch up as things change
As things die
As people move in and out
As we lie
It's like reaching for an ice cream cone only to have it fall upon the pavement
It's like trying to climb the stairs to the attic, then falling into the basement
I keep coming up with abstractions that don't do reality justice
Bang the gavel, send me away, lock me up so I won't write anymore angsty metaphors
But even from my cell, I see the world keep moving
The changing of the guard reflects something deeper
Something larger at stake
It's telling me that we made a mistake
I clutch the string and follow it to the end
It takes me to an unexpected destination
I thought it was saving me from damnation
I thought I was running from what I feared
Only to find that I am right back where I began
Except everything is different
Perhaps it's only that I was wrong...
Again
Awash in a sea of pretty faces, taking notes, staring into space, longing for better places
Longing for something else
Longing for a local where we'll never change again
Cuz there'll be no need
We'll already be perfect

Rain

If there is one thing that I miss about the northwest... it is water. Really big water. There is so much contained in water. I think often times that it is the closest thing we have to a perfect metaphor for God. It is essential. It is powerful. It is everywhere. We die without it. We can be killed with it in a million different equally horrifying ways. We love it. We are terrified by it.

So now, out here in Idaho there is so little of it. We get bits of it in snow, but for some reason that just isn't good enough for me. I want more. I want oceans of the stuff. Torrential down pours. Endless waves pounding a rhythmic time upon the shore. Hurricanes even!

But here there is none of that. Not rain, not storm, not sea. I feel kind of like I am drying up.

My brain quotes pithy sayings in retort to my complaints. "Grow where you're planted."

Am I looking for the wrong kind of water? Am I neglecting the water of my baptism? The water of the Spirit? Where is it? Have I hidden it deep in my heart? In the deep crevices, that nothing can penetrate? Have I buried the water of hope and love and peace so deep that I am actually having trouble drinking from the well?

Dear Lord, I can't dig anymore. I am parched, I am longing for something more than a pill to get me through the day. I need something that lasts... forever. You've given it to me already, but I keep losing it. Totally my fault. I seem to be so horrible at water retention. Plug up the holes, please God. I don't want to leak anymore. Keep me filled with your grace, and the pure joy that comes not of circumstances... but of You.

Amen
&
Amen!

JSTT