Saturday, April 11, 2015

Redeem: 30

It's funny how much I hear the idea that to be in love,
to fall in love, to agree to love is to get something, for yourself.
And if getting or ungetting you do not feel complete,
then the love itself has failed.

It's funny how once I thought this too,
though not if you had asked me.
But in these five years I have learned.
To agree to love is to agree to say:
No matter what it means for me. Unfailing. You.

And yet, today, I'm walking all up in my crazy.
And it's making me think about how it would be
really lovely if you were to see it, and to pray.

For me.

I remember a night we sat in my car
and you said this Kindgom-Purpose thing
and my unwelcome tears said back to you:
I'm wounded and afraid, and I just don't understand.

And you answered, but not to me.
It took me a moment but I realized soon enough:
you were praying about it, for me.

And there have been many days since that day
where I have wondered what you need
and what your Kingdom-Purpose is,
and I have said: Teach me. How to pray.

For you.

And it just seems to me that if I am for you
and you are for me and together we are for the Lord,
then unfailing we will find ourselves.

[redeem, verb: to free from what distresses or harms; to release from blame or debt; to regain possession or recover ownership; 
to convert, restore, atone; to save]

Friday, April 10, 2015

Redeem: 29b

And I cannot stop, you need to know:

It started when I couldn't keep you off my mind,
but it ended up that it was my heart that He was after.

He walked me straight through it.

In those moments I thought surely I was nuts,
He said to me: Your heart, healed and healthy.

Loving you from far away
in surrender, sacrifice, tears, and unknowns
has healed my heart.

Healthy is now who I am;
I am no longer damaged.

And it's because of you.

[redeem, verb: to free from what distresses or harms; to release from blame or debt; to regain possession or recover ownership; 
to convert, restore, atone; to save]

Redeem: 29a

And I just don't want to leave it there,
want to tell you too, about the surrender,
the time and time and after again,
where I laid you down, and let you go.

We hit that wall that one dark day
and I walked away, no intent to look back;
thinking you were done and over, dead to me,
I surrendered you.

But to my mind you kept returning
as darkness became your story and light became mine.
I wasn't used to thinking myself healed,
I assumed it was due to my broken deceived;
I laid you down, so, many, times.

And God kept handing you back.

[redeem, verb: to free from what distresses or harms; to release from blame or debt; to regain possession or recover ownership; 
to convert, restore, atone; to save]

Redeem: 29

Or maybe it was that very first night.

Do you remember, the table, in the corner,
and we talked and talked?

That was back when broken glass was still laid out
just beneath my skin, when demons chased me in my sleep
and kept me breathing shallow and thin.

That was when I would have said I would never not be damaged.

But I left you that night,
feeling like you had handed me back to myself.
You breathed me life. You did.

Maybe it was that very first night.

[redeem, verb: to free from what distresses or harms; to release from blame or debt; to regain possession or recover ownership; 
to convert, restore, atone; to save]

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Redeem: 28a

Can I add an addendum to this?

[Of course I can; I make the rules!]

All of this reminding has got me remembering:

Do you remember the day that we moved the fish tanks?

That was the day that I knew.

[You're the only one who will do.]

[redeem, verb: to free from what distresses or harms; to release from blame or debt; to regain possession or recover ownership; 
to convert, restore, atone; to save]


Redeem: 28

I'm eating my dinner, a delicious lentil soup.

It's reminding me of that day we took down streams of wallpaper,
and you made soup that was a lot like this and I
--in a flurry of anticipation--took half your bread.
You looked at me and you laughed at me. Delightedly.

Which is reminding me of that day
we moved you into all of that wallpaper,
and I stood in your old bedroom window
and stuck my head through to call to you.
You looked at me with such surprise,
and then you laughed. At me. With delight, yes.

Which is reminding me of other types of moments, somehow; 
the moments that were harder, the difficult words
and the edges in our voices.

You looked at me and I looked right back, 
but in no way did we laugh. 

Still, didn't it feel just a bit delightful?  

I was always surprised at how safe it seemed. 

Maybe it's the delight in what it is to know another, 
in all layers, all possible ways.

So.  Let's keep layering, hey?

There's a heck of a lot more delight to be had.

[redeem, verb: to free from what distresses or harms; to release from blame or debt; to regain possession or recover ownership; 
to convert, restore, atone; to save]

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Redeem: 27

Do you think of us yet, as a unit?

There were years when you did not.
I know, because I did.

It made me feel a little crazy.

That the Lord would speak so profoundly one thing,
and hold it there unbudging, and not let me go,
and then you would ignore me, walk away, push me away...

What was I to think?

I learned though; His thoughts.
Faith, power, strength.

I learned His heart for you.

When the unit becomes the thing you agree to,
it changes your heart.

Trust me; I know.

[redeem, verb: to free from what distresses or harms; to release from blame or debt; to regain possession or recover ownership; 
to convert, restore, atone; to save]