I visited our tree today
Walked and wept under a canopy of lush dark green leaves.
Pressed in to a promise I made almost 20 years ago
This is the year I wanted to say no.
Our limbs have grown
Stretched wide and long under a full sun
We’ve born, and yet born, again
Given in to the inevitable breaking, the perpetual remaking
We’re still here…we couldn’t stay the same.
I asked her to hold my questions, carry the weight of my doubt
Surely the foundation we’ve built can take it.
Surely we can survive a year of pruning
Cast a net wide enough to hold all the things we know will fall
Our tree is what is true…She will not hold a lie
The wisdom of our tree knows
This is the year I wondered if love was enough
This is the year of the long journey. The trail of tears.
The burden of carrying each other through brokenness.
This is the year of failure and crisis. Days and weeks of wondering.
This is the year of remembering how you looked when we met …. running toward you on a subway platform.
This is the year of remembering.
This is the year of remembering my bodies longing toward you.
The slow kiss… the whenever, wherever, whatever of our love
The “did our hearts not burn?” of love.
This is the year of trying.
This is the year of looking and pressing forward when I don’t want to.
The year of shame and hurt.
This is the year of imagining life without you
The little foxes have done their dirty work
Leaving behind piles of fatigue in the form of lost socks, bills and not enough time. Not enough money.
Never enough time.
Exhaustion kills marriages.
Wrestling with the relentless tension between the life we have and the life we want is hard.
The year where god nudged me to look back, to see the dreams we’ve carried.
The life we made, the one we wanted.
This is the year of chipped paint, broken doors and dirty dishes.
This is the year I noticed – What time can look like on a home when the people inside stop caring.
This is the year of holding on.
This is the year of truth-telling and coming together in weakness to learn how to love each other better.
This is the year of not giving up.
Of saying no. You can’t have this. You won’t have this thing Gods created.
And saying yes.
This is the year of surrender.
This is the year of sobbing into the shoulder of a stranger
Grief is a surprise. I never know when the tears will come.
This is the year of swinging long and low…
Hammocked in a grace that’s deeper, wider than any thing I can imagine
This is the year of no words and every word
Whispered, between sheets and across kitchen tables
This is the year of perpetual communion.
The body, the bread, the body.
This is the year of prayer.
This is the year of walking barefoot over hot coals of doubt.
Sometimes. I still wonder and sometimes I don’t BELIEVE.
This is the year of admitting it.
This is the year of all the little things, the broken pieces and dreams and the begging God to make it into something beautiful.
This is the year of what if…what if we make it through, what if everything He promised is true
This is the year of remembering our story, your version and mine. His.
This is the year of planting something new.
This is the year of traveling the road with no name.
The year of walking blind.
Trusting God with every step
This is the year of admitting the mess we’ve made.
This is the year of rolling away the stone,
For surely Jesus is behind the stone.
Surely, Jesus is behind the stone.
Let your handmaiden find grace in your sight…#GiveMeGrace
p.s. Monday is June 1st, we’ll celebrate 19 years but we’re in a tough spot. We’d appreciate your prayers.