Tuesday, June 22, 2010
I write because I cannot speak
Sometimes my words just complicate things.
They unravel, they twist and knot in ways I didn't intend
or fall flat, misunderstood,
and there is nothing I can do about the mess.
I wish that conversations could carry links on words like our blogs do . . .
just pause, and click to get the backstory,
what I am trying to say . . .
I am noticing lately the power of grace;
and especially the way that it comes to us riding on things,
into places where words can't reach.
A sweaty walk
Little heads on my shoulders while we read books
A candle set in just the right spot
My mom's Iced Tea
Yard Sale finds
Football making broken hearts dance
There is so much grace everywhere.
not knowing what to say . . .
afraid of saying it wrong . . . again . . .
I find myself praying, as I work, for the grace
to give grace . . .
that my work be grace, if my words cannot
Make this clean house be grace for our guests. . .
Let the sheets . . . our best mattress . . . a good night's sleep . . . be grace
God make the asparagus grace
the books on the nightstand
I shop for groceries and ask for my cart to be filled with grace
Lord let our home be grace
Let the day be grace . . .