Saturday, January 5, 2013

an open book

the opening page reads ... copyright 2000 by Bill Zimmerman. has it really been more than a decade that "My Life" has rested on my book shelf?

as i flip through the mostly empty pages, there are entries in ink and pencil, dates jotted in the margins and on the tops of pages, and tidbits floating in thin air - words written without connection points to the timeline of my life.

there are dark holes of deep disappointment - the child who cannot create an imaginary world, the girl who does not recall having someone she always trusted to share her worries and joys.

there are celebrations - the awkward and happy second grade girl making her first communion, the teen who tried out for the dance team year after year before finally making the squad as a senior, the college freshman finally cutting ties with the awkwardness of high school ... and the dedication page:

my life
(an open book)

dedicated to my children

this morning the pages lay open. near the middle of the book i add an excerpt from this blog

"... in the final 15 minutes that my heart beats, I reach out and take your hand. You are so very special. You are as God intended you to be, your gifts and joys, the life of grace laid out before you were a heartbeat in your mother's womb..."

and i note the date these words were first written: 02 June 2011.

Everything on earth
has its own time
    and its own season.
There is a time
for birth and death,
    planting and reaping,
for killing and healing,
    destroying and building,
for crying and laughing,
    weeping and dancing,
for throwing stones
and gathering stones,
    embracing and parting.
There is a time
for finding and losing,
    keeping and giving,
for tearing and sewing,
    listening and speaking.
There is also a time
for love and hate,
    for war and peace.



Thursday, January 3, 2013

reading her story

an unexpected gift arrived in my email today: the story of a friend, her handwritten pages scanned into a computer and sent to me by her patient and loving husband, the vivid details released and billowing like parachutes, softly floating in to fill the crevices left in the oral narrative she shared with me as we began our whispered hopes journey together.

i am deeply grateful and deeply awed by her trust in me, her trust in God, her willingness to live ...

"a life set toward helping those who are enslaved."

on this my first 'working' day of the new year, as i erase the tired marker board in my office in an attempt to open my heart to what lies ahead, i want to be more like my friend, to set my life on the course God intended, the path God designed, to deeply embrace God who ...
"is sovereign over all the world."

... I prayed to God in heaven, 
and my mind was healed. 
Then I said:
“I praise and honor
    God Most High.
He lives forever,
and his kingdom
    will never end.
To him the nations
    are far less than nothing;
God controls the stars in the sky
    and everyone on this earth.
When God does something,
we cannot change it
    or even ask why.”