The Living Word

These are words that flowed from me last month. It's somewhat of a streams-of-consciousness type poem. I penned these words after an introspective moment of looking back on the past few years of my life. It's very much a peek into my relationship with the Living Word versus the Bible. I have struggled (mostly since 2014) with reading the Bible because of the lens through which I read it for so long. Even to this very day, I struggle with the words of Scripture, not because I don't believe they are truth but due to the myriad of interpretations and misuse of them that I endured without question for a long time. I felt sad as I reflected on where I am now in relation to the Bible. I don't read it very often and I don't find any passion welling up in me for it. I just want to know how such words meet me in this broken and meandering and frustrating and blessed life. Lord knows I have desired to read the Word as I once did! But I believe His patience covers me now. The reminder that He is the Living Word through the Holy Spirit in me calms my fears. All the systems, rituals, practices, rules, and regulations that once bound me whenever I opened Scripture (and even dictated how and when I should read it) have long since been broken. My faith rests in the reality that He is Living, present and near. Perhaps it is this unshakeable truth that He means to fully restore in me before guiding me along in the "practical application." Maybe all the "doing" and "being" wore down my natural love for this simply glory.

It's been so long
Change has shaped my days
Strikingly
Unrecognizeable

It's been so long
I wonder if this is a life
Age
And decay

I'd say I'm sorry
I'd beg again
Forgiveness to wash me clean

But
You you have me speechless
Because I'm already pure
Words, simply, will not do

To plead
For what already is mine
A laughable thing

It's been so long
Your words are the same
But I,
Evolved

It's been so long
I wonder how such words
Find home
In me

My hands tremble
Hesitant to receive
Fearing that in them
I might seek life again
Though
They are they
Which speak of You

It's been so long
I don't know how to do this
Never have I known

It's been so long
I want to name myself
Ungrateful
Shameful

No.
I'm so far removed
From condemnation
It produces
Nothing
In me now

I will
Reach
With Uncertainty
Faith
That will not fail

Embedded
In the earth
Of Your
Humanity
And
Divinity

All of You
Abiding.
Eternity
Upon flesh and blood.

at long last, summer!

It's difficult to comprehend that this past June marked one full year since Nolan and I moved to Durango, CO. Our first year here marked so many highs and lows, as well as new routines and transitions and people. Durango has been my second chance. Second chance at life, health, and pursuing goals and small dreams. Recently, I came across this post on transition, uncertainty, and empty spaces and found it so very well captures this season I have been in since we moved here. When we left Albuquerque, I found myself going through yet another transition, gobs and gobs of uncertainty, and empty spaces (I purged large amounts of our stuff before we moved, so we were traveling fairly light when we arrived in our current apartment). I really needed to hope again. I mean, really hope in something more than this ever-changing life. Now, reading these words below from the above blog post, I find the child in me really just wanted to hold onto something as good and wild and full as this kind of hope:

Hope invites us to linger in the empty spaces without rushing to fill them with something – anything – just to avoid the pain of loss or the discomfort of longing.
Hope asks us to leave our certainty behind us and to let our imaginations run wild, at the risk of being disappointed and feeling foolish.
Hope tells us there’s more goodness and beauty waiting to fill us, if we can bear to be emptied in order to make room for something new.
A hope-filled life is costly, but a life without hope is far more so. A hopeless life is a limited life – clutter-filled, cramped, and awe-less.

I know that only such a hope is offered in the person of Christ and my wandering heart is constantly in a cycle of fleeing and returning to Him. In letting the knowledge of the hope He offers sink into me, I hope that I will become more anchored to this Hope in time. In so many ways, I feel like I'm such a beginner at this whole "believer in Christ" thing. So many questions, doubts, and fears flood me all the time. I get sick and tired of my constant struggles with anxiety, the ups and downs of living with chronic pain (which is becoming much more manageable since continuing physical therapy, but still an everyday nuisance to me!), the uncertainty in the lives of those closest to me, as well the uncertainty of life in general. But He whispers to me with His steady, unwavering promise that He is my certainty. And when I hear the Spirit in me press in this truth, I remember that He is good and I wonder on how earth I doubt His goodness so often. Every new day, the prayer of my heart is, "Lord, let the Hope of You be real to me today. Let it transform my thoughts, the way I see, the way I hear, and how I perceive myself, others, and my day."

Berry & Beet popsicle - recipe courtesy of Pinterest!
My first popsicle attempt!

To intentionally choose hope in the midst of my every day, I am seeking to enjoy the "simple things" this summer. June was a full month of trying out new eateries in town (Earth Girls and Rice Monkeys! So much yummy!), our first camping trip of the year (during which, I learned that I simply cannot and will not camp again without an air mattress!), watching my husband's little garden bloom on our balcony, binge watching Downton Abbey for my first time, and taking long walks. Every time I am strolling out in the sun, I think on how good its warmth feels on me. Having grown up in a desert-valley, I still thrive best in warmer weather. I need some kind of heat. Not only because I get to wear skirts and dresses, but heat brings with it a sense of being at home. I think summer has always done that for me. So, while its warm outside, I am living it up! Below are a summary of photos I took during June.

Camping essentials! I did lots of coloring that day!

After an exhausting and difficult day at my job, I came home to these flowers from my husband. It was a precious blessing because I know it was his way of showing that he thought of me after I texted him how tired I was half-way through my shift.

 



The greens from our garden have already made their way into quinoa patties and salads and tacos. It pays to have married a guy with a lineage of farmers. ;) The green thumb comes naturally! 


And, now, I must depart and take my daily walk in that wonderful sunshine.