Thursday, October 14, 2010

Sufficiency

I wandered down the road this morning, hoping that the chilly fall morning would wake me up and give me energy to go about the day. I am still not sure if it did or not but what it did do was awaken me to the beauty even on such a dreary day of autumn and the brilliance that is brings.
As I walked I looked at the leaves that were above me, the road was surrounded with trees each bearing their own bright color. It was as if the dreariness of the day made the colors stand out in even more brilliance.

It reminded me that even when life seems to be gray and dreary in its own sense that their is still brilliance that surrounds me. An hour ago I probably wouldn't have written this, seeing the glory in the midst of gray isn't easy and most of the time is not what I want to do.

I was reminded this morning of the words that Paul penned when he wrote to the people of Corinth. He told that that His strength is made perfect in my weakness. I don't understand exactly what is happening around me. Its crazy, confusing, and frustrating but I know that His grace is sufficient for me.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Memories of Gone Days

What do you do with past times? How do you hold onto memories that overflow from the cup of life? That come out in moments when you least expect them.

Days of laughter and childhood bliss. Runs through fields, wading in creeks, sitting on top of hills and singing in the falling dusk, gallops on horses, dinners of joking with brothers and sisters, reading books on long front porches... I remember with a smile, but it feels like a lost life.

I see his smile, the bright blue eyes, the childhood innocence, and the way he made you laugh. Little brothers now turned into men, foreboding strangers who I can barely recognize and whose lives are separate from mine.

Goodbyes unspoken, no last touch or even eye contact. Nights of tears and sorrow, dreams dying, and grief overflowing. At nights when I am trying to sleep my dreams are haunted by faces I have never said goodbye too, memories of them rising and falling.

Pen in hand I write. And write. Does healing come with letting my life be penned onto paper?