many the miles: He breathes; i respond, with hesitation

He has this way of bringing things together.
i understand only from what i can see, and what i can see are the pieces of this collision in my life.
i want to write.
no, i want to draw.
wait, wait, wait…i want to study.

so on my desk, strewn about in no particular order, spilling onto my lap
i have my 18-pack of Pentel Fine Point Color Markers
and every highlighter that i own
as well as three or four different pen options: a normal, everyday, pack of 20-black pen, a red pen, and my personal favorite, the fine point roller-ball pen with the liquidy ink that smears if you accidentally touch it too soon, but if you don’t, it dries so dark and i daresay, gorgeously that it makes even writing pages in a blue book more appealing
and i’ve got my sketchbook, doubling as my sociology notebook
and my journal
and my manuscripts: acts, and mark
and my dictionary of biblical imagery
and my heart is quiet, in anticipation
i am ready

inspiration comes at any moment these days
sentences flow through my brain as if they are being whispered in my ear
memories are unlodged and free floating
and i want to catch them, all of them, like lightning bugs in a mason jar
i have to capture it all, or i watch it slip away into the abyss of former ideas, beautiful images, the creative “could have beens”
i no longer believe in those
i believe in what is and what should be
so now i find myself chained to His creative Spirit
desperate to see these “shoulds,” these dreams, become a reality
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i am not an artist, by any means, but He has given me a vision
or two or three or twenty
and i feel them bursting out of my skin, dancing onto whatever canvas is waiting
my journal? okay, i scribble down words and ideas so quickly that it’s chicken scratch, illegible to anyone but me
my sketchbook? okay, i will draw, for my eyes only, to try to express the image that is playing, developing like a beautiful story in my mind
He has breathed life into my imagination
He said, “come awake”
i respond, with hesitation: “okay.”
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it’s quiet as i tip-toe out to the water
i am alone
i let go of my towel and let it drop to the cement beneath me, falling against my bare skin on the way down
the water is dark, but oddly inviting
steam is rising from the surface and i’m sure that His Spirit is hovering.
there is a distinct chill in the air around me, so again, i tip-toe to the water’s edge and hesitantly slip my toes in. in and out and then, in again. it’s deep, yes, but it has to be.
i’m sitting on the edge now, easing my body into the pool of water that feels like silk against my legs.

yes, His Spirit is here.
a quick breeze comes and i turn, shielding myself from the chill.
there is no chill. only warmth, and the waters are stirring.
again, the wind rises, and i can hear it racing through the trees, pushing through with force. but it gets to me, and it stops; it approaches from behind and gently whispers in my ear.
the warmth of His breath is surprising, and i can feel the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand up.
“dive in.”
i respond, with hesitation: “okay.”
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i am a mirror, or something like that.
i am a mirror who has fallen with such great force into the harshness of the world
i am a mirror, and i am shattered, but i will try to reflect You
so, what do you see?
it has been sung: “i do not exist, only You exist.”
do you see me? what is me?
my embodied body is disembodied and i no longer live but Christ lives in me
so, what do you see?
come breathe on me, and hide Yourself in the cloud that appears
my naked eyes cannot bear to look at You
breathe on me, at every moment
i only believe in what is and what should be
this is: Your breathe; Your breathe is
and You are: YOU ARE WHO YOU ARE

i’m in love
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He knocked on my door and asked me a question:
can Kara come out and play?
i respond, hesitantly: “Okay.”

i’m a child again
i’m a child again
i’m a child again!!!!!

tire swings and tree houses and tickle wars
the sandlot and attempts at cartwheels

i have a lot to learn about
childlike faith
childlike vulnerability
the heart of a child