The Pruning

The day is cold and gray,
but the sun will shine when it’s
had time to cut through
the winter dense cloud cover;
sounds kinda like me:
daily tearing away chunks
of a wizened shredded heart;

Under the layers of winter grey,
the house seems pale and muted;
a home shut tight; a full trashcan
filled with memories like daffodil bulbs
sleeping; the only living thing in sight
is me, and I am dormant, too.

I am waiting for the sun to shine again,
to learn how to unfurl my heart in its warmth.
These days, neither long nor short, bright nor dark,
wet nor dry, fill me with a sadness I cannot name.

Yesterday was Valentine's Day, a day of love
and chocolate. My father, born ninety-five years ago,
always bought red cardboard hearts full of truffles
for my mother, my sister and me. Now he is gone.
And you’re gone. And I am alone. Very.

This morning, the flicker of life left lonely in me
Is waiting, can be seen waiting, if you look closely enough,
Waiting for the warmth to come again,
And for the pruning to begin.
 

Reaching for God

Discipleship

by Beth Ann Lively on Monday, January 31, 2011 at 8:24pm

Below is one of my favorite passages. Verse 7, especially: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith."  This is what I would like to be able to say when I meet my Lord; but so far, it seems I have messed this up repeatedly.

One minute my faith is so strong, I hear the All Mighty God whispering to me; the next I am sobbing because something didn't go right, something else backfired, and I decide maybe the whole idea of a God is fluff.  No kidding.  As hard as that is to admit, I think I need to say it. I think I need to concede that even as I urge others to faith, I will often entertain doubt. . . I have so much fear and insecurity--just like most all of us who never knew the possibility, let alone the reality of unconditional love.

I have not changed a lot since I was a kid.  Others will tell you this with one of those smiles that means they find me quirky comic relief and so forgive my playfulness, so you will know what I say is true. One thing that has changed, though, is my understanding of God's love.  My personal experiences with His grace.   The perfect comfort of His unconditional, all encompassing love.

Only through brokenness have I come to experience His true nature--that He has always understood and loved me since before I left the womb; that He has no concept of time, so His love is always NOW; that He does not only forgive me my sins, my mistakes and petty feelings, my lost and lonely howls, but He understands why I did these things!!  He understands it all!

He gets me!  God the Almighty, the Maker of Heaven and Earth, of All Things Seen and Unseen, THAT GOD gets why I screamed at my mom and cried for an hour afterward; God of Abraham, God of Moses, THAT GOD gets why I kicked the washing machine, or slammed a door or cussed out the driver in front of me!  HE GETS IT!!!

His love is about getting us, about loving us just the way we are because He sees all the wonderful things each of us is--all those things we don't see while we stumble through this world that rarely reflects Him. He knows our hearts, He knows how difficult it is to keep our faith as we plow, or trudge, sob or rush through our days. He gets us and He loves us just the way we are.

So when it is my turn to walk into His outstretched arms, I know He will wrap those tremendous arms around me and whisper: "Beth, My Beth; you have fought the good fight, you have finished the race, you have kept the faith. Welcome home, child. Daddy's here."


II Timothy 4
 1 In the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who will judge the living and the dead, and in view of his appearing and his kingdom, I give you this charge: 2 Preach the word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage—with great patience and careful instruction. 3 For the time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. 4 They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths. 5 But you, keep your head in all situations, endure hardship, do the work of an evangelist, discharge all the duties of your ministry.
 6 For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time for my departure is near. 7 I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. 8 Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his coming.

Although I keep getting older, growing up is an option!

Drowning in Love

I gasp for air amid the flood of tears

Rabid breaths that show no foam . . .

This is our home!  This is OUR stuff!

Sobs well up inside me

So deeply

I vomit them out,

Retching, wailing

Sucks of air

That exhaust my body

And drain my soul.

Finally,

I cry silently,

Mouth wide open

Unable to breathe,

Until finally

It

Stops.

We bag her up slowly.

I loving pull clothing out of drawers

Sweaters she cherished

T-shirts so clever

She had to beam

Every time she pulled them

Over her ample breasts,

Others that mark

Everyplace we’ve ever been

(and every size she ever was!)

some of them so precious

so painted with memories

of her, of us,

I put them back in the drawers

Priceless art to me,

Soft, secret, silent

Souvenirs of a sweetheart.

And the twenty-year-old

Skinny frail little

Tiger cat Abby

Who spent every evening

For twenty years

Curled above her head

On the back of the couch;

Who watched

I don’t know

How many

Episodes of

Wheel of Fortune

And

How many

Matches of

Jeopardy;

Who never had

Even one chance

To answer a

Single question;

Yowls and yowls and yowls

Mournfully, incessantly

All day long

And into the night

And early every morning

Crying for a lost love

On which to rest her

Weary bones.

And I . .

I watch her carried out

In bags and boxes

Hauled out

Luggled out

By loving, well meaning

Caring, grieving

Family and intimate friends

I watch as her

Favorite soaps

Lotions

Makeup

Brushes

Are so much junk, now;

How her keepsakes

Are tossed in

(can’t keep everything,

for pity’s sake)

her hats

that kept her

chemo-bald head

warm in the

only winter

she had left;

and the fishing

hats she wore

the last summer

our last summer

 the one we didn’t know

would be the last.

We looked at pictures

We looked at cards and

Old letters

We looked at

A life

Torn out of

Its home

Like a turtle

Ripped from the shell

And what do you

Have then?!

Only so much dead meat to

Burn

Into

Dust.

Which is in a beautiful

Too expensive blue cloisonné’ urn

Set loving amid

Family photos

And a picture of

Jesus.

Lively 2010

Ox E Moron

And so I lift the yoke

carefully, lovingly,

and with some effort

place it smoothly, firmly

on my waiting shoulders;

where I straighten it

slowly, respectfully

until it feels

balanced and bearable

wearable and terrible

and I lift my neck

my eyes to God

above me

see God around me

know God is in me

and I limp

back to

my

life.

Lively 2009

Holy Spirit in a Poet's Heart

Sonnet #3   I Love How Winter

I love how winter settles in to swaddle living earth,

Tucking every flower in to wait for their new birth.

I love the way the winter sun shines warm from distant sky,

Its rays bring hope of days to come where newborn green will lie.

I love the hoar frost clinging to the empty limbs of trees,

It shimmers on the naked growth then greets the sun and leaves.

I love the way the snow comes down, each flake original art,

To blanket every single thing and warm my aching heart.

Winter, in her cold and ice, brings Heaven’s warmth to me,

Beneath her fridge wonderland, lies all eternity.

Lively 12/2010