i've been crawling around with the devil
on my back. kicking and swatting at him...
and carried down the swollen banks of darkness
by hanging on to a scratch of Jesus' robes.
slap the drums.
dance with the choir.
out of deep desolation and sinking
despair, hold on to the Ship. the Song.
the ONLY One who knows how to bind our
wounds and keep our dreams from seeping out
of broken places and being swept away from our vision.
i have been so discouraged.
dark and late, with heavy fog, i ran my car into
a center divider. ruined my two left tires and wheels
and leaving the custom-made rims cracked...
it sits at a body shop while i wonder how i'll pay
for the coverage.
my children are spread far apart. two of them work
over the Christmas week-end. one is in dallas. another
in monterey bay finishing his college degree in film, and
has a full-time job. we are all short on money. it's complicated
and we are so close and Christmas is about being together.
and we always have been until now.
several weeks ago, i opened my front door and thought
the devil himself had walked in. someone i didn't know.
and it was the fiercest, darkest spiritual attack i'd ever
experienced. i would lie on the floor at the foot of my bed,
and ask God WHY i had to try and survive this?!!
oh, the Blood of Jesus. He covered it and reigns the Victor.
quiet the drums. the music.
settle into the roar of silence. so quiet we can hear
the air and smell the noise of the breeze against our
skin...
"though the fig tree
does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vine...
though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food...
though there are no sheep in the pen,
and no cattle in the stalls...
YET i will rejoice in the Lord...i will be
joyful in God my Savior...
the Sovereign Lord is my strength.
He enables me to go to the heights."
habakkuk 3:17-18
inspite of all our broken pieces,
and the yearnings over our children and
grandbabies, remember to love and help the poor.
to have love radiating on our faces. and know...
just absolutely KNOW...that God will always be
enough.
have a beautiful Christmas, and know that i'm really
a failure in keeping blogs up to date, BUT i truly love
you. my children are recipients of your vast love. you
make us better and richer. ann
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© 2019 Ann Kiemel
2 comments:
It was a strange and wonderful Christmas. Two friends keeping an awful secret-her cancer has returned for the third time and how will they tell their young son? A friend of my sister's, looking like he just stepped into the headlights and would bolt as soon as dinner was consumed, until a friend of her sister's-a quadraplegic atheist-arrived and they talked about everything until all the others had gone. We're all going to take a class in Photoshop from the one in the wheelchair. Wonder after wonder. I couldn't sing for anything at the Christmas Day service, but the Director forgave me. We're all friends-what a gift.
You don't have to be a pillar of strength for us, because God is our pillar. And yesterday I ran into an acquaintance I think you might enjoy reading. Her name is Alla Bozarth, one of the original women ordained into the Episcopal priesthood. Like you, she became a widow too soon and struggles with chronic pain. But I have no doubt your spirits would rejoice in meeting. She also has a blog: http://allabozarthwordsandimages.blogspot.com/
You don't need to publish this, if you want to keep it private.
I pray for you.
Beautiful. Write for me. Write for us all. Write for God.
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