still< I want more

Depression sucks the marrow of my bones, unhurriedly.
I’ve wanted nothing more than to be useful.
Or have I lied to myself, even now.
Have I wanted importance?

New: When God Seems Silent

 1.  I have not lost hope though I have lost the ability to hear God. Whether God is silent, which I doubt, or whether the pain throbs too loudly in my heart’s chamber to hear, I don’t know. What my family is experiencing is not suffering. Life is hard and this distinction is important to…

{This is for the Dads. I See You}

This blurry pic, a copy of a copy, is my father holding my son.  You cannot see it from this cropped copy but they are sitting on the floor. This is for the dads, I see you. Recently at wedding of two friends it hit me.  I’m past the feeling of broken-heart-ache when I see…

{a message from my dead father}

Jumbles of words wake me up; clotting in me.  My body resists waking for it’s much too early.  This is my day-to-day litmus test.  How bad? Long before dawn, I am scanning for the gravity of my depression. I have always eavesdropped on myself in this way. Somehow the heart knows, even if one has…

[BE FEARLESS]

My word for 2012 was ABUNDANCE. Even as I chose that word — abundance, I wasn’t totally sure; seriously, what was I thinking resounded the echoing voices? I have never lived a so-called abundant life.  Was it even possible? Most of my childhood, and early adulthood, I spent afraid, crouching. And I’ve been unable to choose joy, as I’ve…

{My Father is Dead} A Remembrance on Father’s Day

“I will not leave you orphaned… I don’t leave you the way you’re used to being left–feeling abandoned, bereft… I’m leaving you well and whole.” — John 14 My father is dead but he is alive in my head. He haunts me. I often wish I could kill him  off for good, then I remember how much…

{When Did you First Believe that God is Male?} #mutuality2012

Where do we form our ideas about God?  And more importantly when?  How young does it begin to register in your head and heart, your idea of God as a masculine figure and that your daddy is also male? How did they become so mixed together, mingled and intertwined? And I asked myself today.  How do you…

{When You’re Not Qualified to be Alive}

So I’m trying something new.  Picking a subject at random that I seem to obsess about or fixate on, something that grips my imagination in compulsive and ugly ways, (I started with one of my secret obsessions.) I’ll write honestly without  a lot self-editing or controlling “the message” to see what comes out.  No answers….

Phantom Love

You can’t just say you love me. Love isn’t words. Love is time — spent over the span of a life. Words are a phantom love. I can’t mend your hurting heart. I don’t even know why I should try. Empty, adrift. You are searching for something. Crying out, and I hear you. But I…