Second Windsong

When the world crumbles under my feet; When my perceived worth from my eyes doeth fade; I lift my hands—cupped—empty—staid.  You don't see the void. You see my need.   When my knees buckle and I have no strength to stand; When my soul is exhausted and emotions feel dry;  I lift my eyes —fixed—filled—nigh. You don't back away. You enfold and enliven.   When I grieve all that has been lost;  When I can't identify the reason; I bow my head—defeated—resurrected—growing season. You don't let death define me. You give me life.   When my heart explodes with joy; When I can't contain the smile;  I dance unabandoned—twirling—laughing—like a child. You don't look away. You create the rhythm.  When I wake to another day;  When I can't believe the sun is shining;  I soak it in—warm—love—defining. You don't wane. You infuse with Your light.  When I see this life as a gift; When I can't repay all that is due; I proclaim—It's—All—because...

    I have never really thought about what it might mean to “stop and smell the roses.”   Does it truly take an effort to notice the world around me—to live?   I have always struggled with the dichotomy of my personality, everything feels deep, yet I really perceive myself as shallow.   A desire to please is always right on the edge of my sleeve, exposed and ready to be brushed off like clinging fuzz or a hanging string from a seam.   Why do I try so hard to go unnoticed and to miss the noticeable?   I have the capacity to love. I have moments of wisdom—God-given, always.   Living through one full year of a pandemic and staying in lockdown to keep my immune-compromised loved ones safe—myself safe—transforms the act of living to one that is always focused on impending death. As we watch our loved ones suffer or die from a virus that the world is struggling to understand, there are cocoons built around my “noticers.”  Will my inability to...