2/2/08

cornucopious.

I have a plethora of things in my mind.



What really drew me here, though, were these words from a friend,
"I am learning to just put my thoughts on where I am, instead of going back or worrying forward. To grab what is in front of me right now. The feel of my pillow. Sand under my toes. Stop for the photo. Say the words. Hug the boy. Squeeze the girl. Forgive myself for not being enough and embrace The One Who Is."

Miss Betsy wrote that, not even to me or about me or for me or even in close proximity to me. But when I read it, I felt it like the scene in the Wizard of Oz where the Munchkins decide it's safe to come out and greet Dorothy. All the little faces bubbling up from behind vibrantly colored foliage, all the introductions and the music, but first- the quiet timidness of coming out of hiding and into the sunshine. I felt that way, just a little bit.

And I have felt it more and more since yesterday afternoon when I spoke with Ellen.

Ellen is wonderful. She almost always says at least one thing that knocks my soul off its feet and lands me in a pile of questions that lead to "suddenly" moments where I start to understand things and feel peace. God does this to me, through Ellen, all the time. Yesterday, she sort of spiritually took me by the sides of my face, shook me around for a second, and then said, loudly, "You have been sick. You have been working. You have been out of control busy. STOP. Breathe. Do not think. The world is gonna be okay without you for a little while. Stop."

I just sat there while she talked, like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop or something. I still feel that way a little bit. But since yesterday afternoon, I have felt so much clarity and okayness that was absent for weeks, and it's like going from black and white silence to real life.

And the way it happens is just like Miss Betsy said.
"Hug the boy. Squeeze the girl. Forgive myself..."

Yes. Exactly.

And "know that God is not unhappy with me" is a big one for me, too.
Even bigger, "know that I am his priceless treasure."
These are difficult things to remember.

I've been thinking about the lyrics to a song called "A Floating Smile," by Cool Hand Luke. Sam adores this song. When I first heard it, I thought "eh." Since then, however, I have noticed that the lyrics were actually written for me personally, and that the music happens to be on the soundtrack of my life. So, upon second (and third, and fourth, and fifth...) reviews, I love this song. Here are the words that know me so well,

I'm sad that I don't think about You,
'cause I just can't get on without You.
You speak in the funniest things,
glimpses of heaven in dreams.
Lately it seems that it's harder,
for my legs to walk any farther.
I need you, to show me I need you...
and give me the faith to believe you.

One day you'll come back,
soon you will come back,
one day you'll take me home.
We'll fly away, we'll fly away,
we'll fly away, on a
floating smile.


That line, "I need you to show me I need you, and give me the faith to believe you."

How can I even say anything else about it? It speaks so well for itself. In my heart, it says dependence, and trust, and leaning, and the smallness and frailty of the way I am. It says, are these the prayers that God really loves? These are certainly the prayers I find in myself.

Other than this,
today (well, technically yesterday) marks (marked) eight months of dating for Samuel and myself. We went grocery shopping and made homemade pasta sauce with bowtie pasta. We watched Stardust, and we just got to be together and remember why it is fun to date someone. I hardly even had to remind myself not to think too much, I just got to sit and admire the way it is to just sit together. Some nights, it is difficult, grit-your-teeth kind of work to talk about the things that are bold and intense, in place of just having a good time. Others, it is easy to talk and have serious moments of rich conversation while we take up our favorite spaces on the front porch swing. Still other nights, like this one, it is good to just buy groceries and laugh about things and hold hands while we watch a pretty-lame movie. I get to sit and think things like, "hmmm, he is letting his arm go numb just to keep it around my shoulders," and let my heart muse a little bit over such small things as this.

Although, I always feel kind of guilty about his arms. It's not really a fair trade.

Other than this, I am just thinking that I would very much like to write a short story. I keep seeing little dialogue bits happening in my mind's eye. I want them to not escape.

So, this is the end.
I will sleep soon.

Sweet dreams, world.


P.S. this is a good blog written by a person I love much:
Beauty for Ashes: Clarity


there is wisdom in her.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Anniebird,
You are such a gifted writer. Your words make my heart smile and yet make me ponder.... such deep thoughts from a 'young person'... who is really so very grown up:)
I'm glad you can stop and breathe for a while.
Having so many gifts and talents can be hard sometimes... it's hard to hold them all inside when something always is trying to pop out and take the world by storm... like trying to carry one too many Christmas packages out of the store, one always slips out, it seems!
You WILL impact the world. You do every day with just your heart and your smile and your words. Even when you are not trying.... :)
The world will wait, for a little while..... rest in Him who has such big plans for you, and yet also has such perfect timing and perfect peace for all of us.
Love you
Ms. Deb
PS I'm sure Sam didn't mind his arm going to sleep around your shoulders... in fact he would probably have happily let his arm simply fall off.....!!!

Anonymous said...

These are important things to ponder. Henry David Thoreau is quoted in saying that " Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them." I don't want this to be my lot, and I see that same longing in you. I too believe that you will sing your song. Miss Betsy's words of wisdom have come with a price tag. Most wisdom does. Those of us that have walked through pain are able to take with us, if we are open-handed, a few treasures from it's shores. She is right. So good to see you living in the moment. It is God's desire for you to do so.
You are a treasure, Annie Bug. I am so very proud of you.

. said...

i came here to check for a new blog...and there were two!
ecstasy!
(not the drug)
i like your poems annie annie.
they are pretty.

i wrote a short story the other day. it wasn't wonderful, but very satisfying.

you know something i realized yesterday? everything is going to be ok.

:)

love,
grace.

Michelle Cornelison Smith said...

I always feel guilty about it too.


the short story idea is a must.

Michelle Cornelison Smith said...

and....what your friend wrote stopped me in my tracks, especially the end.

well, especially all of it.

. said...

my dear, there is a letter coming your way soon...

adelina august said...

ok! i've read this one enough. time for another blog.........now! the masses are rioting!! we must have more anniewords!! more, more, more, more! :) perhaps you could tell us about your mime dance?