Smiling Over Sequins...

She stitched the ream of sequins back onto the little girls dress up gown. The little girl, who only moments before, came running into the kitchen devastated that her pretty pink dress up gown had lost the ream of sequins that lined the little gown’s neck line.

After a few moments, “There you go,” the mother said with a grin of satisfaction as the little girl put the gown back on and pranced back to whatever kingdom she had momentarily left to go see the seamstress.

The mother went back to work in the kitchen doing the things that mothers do.

In the midst of her cleaning and washing cabinets and counter tops, the mother heard a faint inaudible whisper, “I saw that.”

Her heart sank a bit from sheer shock of the almost felt whisper in her heart. “You saw what?” she thought in reply.

“I saw you mend the dress,” was whispered back.

“You were paying attention to my sewing?” was all she could think back to the Whisperer. Then in a moment of bare, honest thought the mother’s mind wondered, “Don’t you have more important things to do than to watch me sew?”

“Don’t you have more important things to do than mend a torn dress up gown?”

The mother captured in thought, considered the question. Why did I take time to mend the dress? Why didn’t I just send a little girl along on her way and explain that the dress was torn and that’s just life? After all, I do have so much to do. Nothing would ever get done… then she stopped. She knew the answers before she could finish the silly line of questioning and reasoning to herself as to why she mended her daughter’s dress.

“Exactly,” was whispered back. “You underestimate how much I really care for you. I actually watched you pack a lunch this morning, and it made me smile when you made a smiley face with the honey for a little boy's lunch. I smiled again when I saw you wipe a spot off of your husband’s overcoat this morning without him knowing. You, actually, make me smile often.”

This was almost more than the mother could take. She hadn’t considered that the Whisperer paid attention to such things. Of course her Sunday school knowledge of the Almighty would suggest this to be true, but to have something so profound yet simple to be realized in a whisper went beyond her understanding.

Then He whispered to her again, “You made me smile sewing back on the sequins as well.”

Just then the thoughts the mother was contemplating were interrupted by a little girl who came running back into the kitchen… this time, her shoe was untied.

Christmas -- The Night Before...

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the... nah, over done!

I'm sitting here, late -- midnight actually -- Christmas morning, but until I go to sleep and wake up I count it still as the night before.

I'm thinking of my children, Caleb and Zeke nestled in their new Snuggies® their Mema and Papaw got for them for Christmas; and then Annsley and Madilyn snuggling up in their new fleece blankets (without arm holes), all of whom are anxiously awaiting Santa to come down our chimney (we have gas logs -- Santa implores real magic when coming down our chimney since he has to magically make one) and give them all they want and asked for on their severally revised lists. All are asleep with the exception of Caleb. He keeps coming in and checking out the situation. I showed him on NORAD that Santa is currently in Guaymas, Mexico with his next stop being in Tucson, AZ and that if he doesn't go to sleep Santa can't deliver the Christmas goodness to our house; so off he slinks, still in his Snuggie® to take on the barely winnable task of falling asleep on Christmas eve... the night before.

I, myself, introspectively consider why all the hub-bub. We plan and work for weeks to make the Christmas season, and especially Christmas day, memorable and in but a moment the day will be done, the money saved now spent, and boxes and bags of beautifully-torn (as it is an art form) wrapping paper sitting in a garbage heap awaiting the return of the sanitation department employees. And I ask myself, did we remember? Did I remember?

I remember the business. I remember the looks on their faces when they open their gifts; nothing is more precious than to see your children delighted and it being your fault -- but you can't take the credit as Santa did all the bringing! I remember the brief disappointment when the package they just uncovered was filled with socks and under wear. (Come on seriously?! Even if they need that stuff can't it wait for two days after Christmas when it's just a trip to Wal Mart?! Who are we parents trying to fool by making the undergrowth of the tree look bulkier... us or them?!) Oh, and for that one I blame Santa... he also brings our needs, not just our wants, right? But did I remember?

That question haunts me. Not because of the terrible sacrilege of giving gifts to the ones we love, but because it's a question that haunts me the night before every new day. Did I remember Him? Not just during the season of remembering such things, but do I remember Him each and every day? (No, not Santa... bigger, greater, holier than he.) Have I grown so accustomed to this city that's built with the hands of man that my once longing heart no longer longs to be with Him? Do I remember? Each day? Him?

Quote to Me Your Love...

Quote to me a sonnet of your love, or I die.

Sing to me a song from your lips,

Making jealous the Angels created for such eternal expressions, or I perish.

Let our hands touch as no other hands have ever touched.

Let our lips kiss and awaken the jealousies of centuries’ gone lovers.

Songs lose all melody and tone when we are apart.

Flowers don’t bloom; and the sky becomes cloud drawn,

As though they are a blanket of dirt over my coffin blotting out the sun.

Don’t deny me your sonnets or songs; don’t withhold your touches or kisses.

I swear I shall die in misery without them; cause me not to grieve to my grave.

Give me your gaze and look upon me with your love,

Or strike blind my eyes for they become useless

and want only to behold their love.

Sing to me songs of love so that I may hear them,

And know your heart beats for me as does mine for you.

I cannot bear not knowing;

Reassure me again with your kisses,

And rest my heart from its worries.

My Escape...

Make a way of escape
for me, so I'm not
counted among
the fallen.
Their open-shame-masks
I don't long to wear.
I want to hide, though not from Thee,
but in Thee, so my countenance is lifted
and made to shine like the noon day sun.

Righteousness makes glad my heart
when mine enemies have circled and hurl
accusations like arrows to kill my name
and none hit their mark.

Then You are worshiped when mine
enemies are put to shame and Your little
lamb sends reeling ravenous lions thirsty
to mar Your image in me.

Who can climb Mount God?
None whose hands are clay caked,
dirtied from digging into the dredge heaps
of society searching it for deeper pleasures
no longer found on the surface
but buried as a corpse-treasure out of sight
from what used to please
but now has been made dull.

Who can stand on His Holy Hill?
None whose feet have trudged in forbidden lands of self,
seeking and traversing the uncharted courses of human character
that are found not hidden but well occupied
by so many before them.
These courses are all the routes which man travels
that carry them from the Presence
and are found to be well plodded.
Feet that are muddied by these roads
can never stand surely and are reduced to bent reeds
unable to support any weight of living.

One can ascend; One can surely stand, and does so even now
ensuring us that we too were meant to stand.
Our hands too were meant to grasp He who is no longer seen,
yet we lost our will to clutch.

He does surely clutch, and does so with such force
I can't be plucked or dropped.

Make a way of escape for me so I'm not counted among the fallen.
Make difficult the words of hate
because they once poured like a sieve even when making nice
because they weren't given to You in eternal surrender;
they belonged to me while there was still a me.
Now be 'Thee' in 'me' as all is lost and found in You
and Wind blows in to extinguish the candle flicker of self
and igniting the fire of salvation
blown from coals found upon Your altar.

I am then consumed and You exist as the Light-Blown-Lighted
in the core of my existence and there You are found...
My Escape.

Inspiration's Wooing...

Inspiration, she comes and calls not in convenient moments
Of ones own choosing, but only hers.
She whispers a single word or phrase then causes the dam
To burst forth, flooding the vacated city beneath its gorges.

Then lakes and streams burst forth
From where once once parched land existed
Saturating its leathered lungs to life.

She comes at her choosing,
You need only to be found listening
With pen and parchment in hand.

Missing You...

I imagine myself with you, kissing your neck,

Holding your hands,
Pulling you close to me as I am made drunk
From your perfumed embrace.
Nothing else holds my heart so near in this world made mad
By all its leaving.

My imaginings picture me saying, "Don't leave; please stay,"
And you obliging this desperate request
Made with words so sincere,
That have overflowed the banks of my heart,
Spilling out into the air of night,
Where you and I stand alone - only looking -
Not able to speak as you start my way
Ending the tear that my heart was making.

Then some noise, or better some silence,
Awakens my imaginations
Reminding me that you've left and only I remain
With scattered pieces of my heart strewn about the floor.

I try to retrieve the pieces,
Yet find them too heavy to be lifted alone.
So on the floor they remain...
Until I'm through...
Missing you.

The Manhattan Declaration...

A few weeks ago I blogged about the Manhattan Declaration. Today I signed it.

Certain documents have their way of immortalizing a moment in history. The Nicenes had their creed; Luther had his 95 thesis and the United States has its Declaration of Independence.

Twenty-first century Christians now have the Manhattan Declaration.

This declaration is a statement of Christian conscience; it is a line drawn in the sand that declares Christian unity on three subjects that are marks of rebellion against God in this society. It is a statement that we will stand up to any governmental law, and will pay any price to not concede to the slide of this post-Christian culture. These three topics are:

1. The Sanctity of Human Life...
2. The dignity of marriage as the conjugal union of husband and wife...
3. The rights of conscience and religious liberty...

This declaration is an effort of Orthodox, Catholic, and evangelical Christians and their leaders who have crossed the chasm of difference of opinion and practice to make an unified statement of belief and righteousness.

Go to the Manhattan Declaration website and read the declaration. If you agree with this declaration, then sign it and make the statement not only with electronic pen but with heart and life to never compromise this great faith for this lost society, all to the glorifying of God in our mortal bodies.