my imagination has withered. i credit my job. sometimes i raise my eyes heavenward and whisper to my Maker, "how long? will there ever be anything else for me in terms of work?"
i am worn and on the verge of collapsing.
but i consider the lovely things that have grown from the drudgery. things that i would not call vanity. the red flower, unknowingly triumphant against a barren landscape. i am thankful. but can i be thankful even in my discontent?
i see glimpses of rescue. for others. for myself. for all of us together.
i read books. i imagine a restored land. i rest my head on the shoulder of the Crucified.
work. rest. hope.
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2 comments:
so interesting, i was thinking of you just today...wondering how you are.
i feel i am in the very same place- waiting for a job, applying for jobs i'm not even sure about...getting small words from God along the way..my daily bread- just enough to get me through one moment.
i am comforted that we grow the most in our dark and that he can speak to us new words that would be lost in our old imaginations.
and as i write this i am comforted. knowing we are in the same spot.
please come see me in Chicago, we could roam the city and sit by the lake and dream.
once again i am reminded how special you are to me, given to me by God, with a kindred language that refreshes my spirit. yes, i would love to roam the city with you and dream by the lake, with coffee in hand.
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