breath after breath

My daughter is scared, and so

I am sitting with her as she falls asleep.

I'm hunkered down in a large cardboard box,

Full of stuffies, next to the only accessible plug

With my dying phone.

Her breath is slowing, growing more even; 

Rough still, from a cold this week,

From the coughing reminder that

Every breath is a gift

From the giver of air, and lungs.

Nephesh: the soul, the throat;

The air breathed in and life given.

I place her soul into Your care for the night

For all her nights, for dawns and days 

Breath after breath after breath after breath.

Cover Me in Sunshine

Vava's been listening to Pink's Cover Me in Sunshine a lot lately, and my favourite lyrics go 

"tell me that the world's been spinning

since the beginning

and everything will be alright.

Cover me in sunshine."

This is like the refrain of my heart. 

I am not very good at persistent joy. You know when Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water to Jesus and then realized his surroundings and gasped and sank? Samesies. 

Jesus was right there. Peter had already been walking ON WATER, and not like years ago in faded memory but right now. He was actively in the middle of a miracle.

But the wonder and proof of it wasn't enough to buoy him up in the face of the storm. 

I sit in my home and hear my kids laugh and see the wonder of this life that I asked God for - through many dangers toils and snares I have already come, yes - but then I read the news and I hear rumbles of a recession rolling in and I tremble. He has held me and blessed me through dangers, toils, and snares - but still my foot steps down through the water like it must, it must - look at it, it's water - if the water does not hold me up, will grace still lead me home? 

And my answer must be the same as Peter's, the same as Pink's -

tell me that the world's been spinning since the beginning and everything will be alright - save me, Lord -

I need to know He's got it all in His hands. 

The world. My world. Me. 

Cover me in sunshine.

Glory and Flowers and Joyness

Thank you, God, for glory and flowers and joyness - Pascal, praying before bed. 

Usually he says nothing when I ask if anyone wants to talk to God together. 

That's okay too. But it made me pay attention when he did decide to speak, the little rock.

 I saw God's glory all over the place this week, but didn't stop to think about it until he spoke.

Vava, challenging herself to do a one-handed cartwheel. 

Sam, respectfully voicing his disagreement with someone in power. 

Kachi, so excited about his friend's birthday party he can barely sleep. 

Pascal, so intent on reading a book he didn't notice me calling. 

Eevee, running free with other dogs at the off-leash park. 

A friend's new baby. 

A friend's new business. 

Yeah. Thank you, God, for glory and flowers and joyness.

She, too

Sometimes, sunshine comes tumbling out of the phone

An invitation, a proposal

Of friendship.

Sometimes, love wraps its arms around you

Across miles and borders

From a kindred spirit.

She, too, knows the presence that tugs

And flows like a river

And sings in solitude.

She, too, knows.

 

--

Happy birthday, my friend.

I thank God for you.

for Patrick, Happy Anniversary my love!

An Ode to Your Body

I love your body

Because of those delicious broad shoulders

And my favourite dents

And those long arms that wrap me so close.

The way you laugh, so kindly, when I talk too much

I love the way your eyes seem full of light

And the way they close so quickly into sleep.

But mostly what I love

Is the fact that your body

Keeps going and going

In love for me, for these kids.

To work, of course, and back again

Over and over no matter what you feel like,

To the store, the playground, the beach,

And out of bed and down the stairs when I've forgotten my puffer.

I love those hands that give so generously,

Those legs that welcome my icy toes,

The crinkle lines that capture your laughter 

The grey hair that is just starting to show up, to keep mine company.

The muscles that lift and carry

Boxes of parts and miles of hose

The heart that bears the burden of management

The hands that type succinct, efficient emails

The arms that clear snow and ice off windshields in the dark all winter long.

I love your hands that make our coffee and pick up pizza and pick up a million pairs of abandoned socks off the floor.

I have witnessed your body 

Carrying your laughter and quiet words and kindness

In and out of days for sixteen years

And I love it.

Conversations before bed

 

I just feel like I was made for something amazing

She told me

Eyes a little defensive, cagey.

(It's hard to bare the soul.)

You were, I told her.

I just want to see God

He told me

Eyes, tired, crinkled closed.

(It's hard to bear the soul.)

You will, I told him.

I just want to see you and do something amazing,

I sighed

Sinking into bed.

(It's hard to bear, to bare the soul.)

You have, he told me, you do.