First thought:
Times of rest
isn’t a break from giving
There must be a way
To break from striving
Without enabling selfishness
Second thought:
My Millennium Pink Comforter
I escape
For comfort
And comfort makes me feel okay
But my would-be, could-be, should-be comforts
Become like Jacob’s rock
I toss and turn, willing them to deliver
Something beyond their nature
And here I am, wrestling with God again—
“I am your comfort.”
I fight back with scrolling IG, earbuds in my ear to feast on podcasts
I knit like a mad woman, frantic for sustained peace
If I could just knit forever, never have to leave my couch, I would be okay
“I am your comfort.”
Who is this God?
Eternal Spirit who refuses to leave me alone?
Who sees my pitiful efforts at okay-ness and won't let me go,
Won't let me rest
Until I find my comfort, that blessed, cozy, holy okay-ness in his presence.
If his words are true, I will call him My Millennium Pink blanket.
He’ll get it.
Third thought…
Thriving humanity
Led by the Best Human Ever
Declining humanity,
In pure, delusional survival mode—
That's all I’ve ever done—survive (well, mostly)
For how can the wounded give their lives away?
Thank you for sharing these words. The second one on God’s comfort is very much on my mind.