Life to pour...

And the echoes of worship are ringing in my soul,
Resounding and lifting;
Condensing upon the walls of my heart,
Dripping down like precious oil
And all I want is more.

So why do I not chase more?
Standing alongside the Great Deep, dying of thirst;
A daughter of the Spring, drinking never.

I hear You, Lord.
Afar off in the distance.
And dare I dream it: nearing.
I hear You.

And I long for You. My heart misses You.
I long to lay upon Your chest,
To be wrapped in Your embrace,
And to bring some joy to Your heart.

But I fear my light has grown dark,
My heart has grown cold
And I wonder if You will find me in this wilderness.

Will You come to me, Lord,
When my stubborn heart will not draw near to You?

Will You come to me, beloved Spring,
When I have perished at Your side
In my foolishness, undrinking?

Revive me, Lord.
Revive me, Lord, again.

That I may pour my life as oil.
As oil upon Your feet.

So many questions...

A busy day and no time for writing really, but sad news has me wondering. And wondering wants writing.

One of our emcees passed away today.

A few short weeks ago, she found out she had terminal cancer. She's in her early forties. She loves Jesus and she lived a beautiful life.

And so we're thinking. And it just seems wrong.

Life is fragile.

A brief flicker of all the burning brilliance of human life flashes upon the canvas of time. And just that quickly is gone.

I'm 22. And it hasn't been that long. Even four times this lifespan seems too brief. How about just two?

And pages keep turning. And the sand in the hour glass pours down. And we're all being chased by the hands of time. And for a moment my heart is saddened. Forty seems far too early to have been caught. And so, so suddenly.

Life is a vapor.

But there is that lovely hope, so sure. When we are caught, we are caught not by emptiness or by life faded to black. We are caught by eternity, where we have always belonged. We are caught by the arms of the Father Who loves us so dearly. I cannot conceive of forever, but Amy is resting there this morning. And one day we will go to meet her.

What trembling is there for the Lord's beloved? Much pain for those who linger on in the world of sand and pages. And a longing for the light we knew in the one we love.

But for that light, only the melting into that eternal radiance, the very presence of God with unveiled face and unhindered soul.

"Love may be the end of us; but why, why should we fear?"

Love Himself is our eternal end. The wind of time blows on. And we can be moved by it, unafraid.

Random thoughts from Philly...

Let me preface this by saying that 1am musings are entirely unreliable and I refuse to be held accountable for anything I say here. But I had to spill a bit before crawling into bed and rapidly awakening to all of the adventure tomorrow.

I'm finally listening to that song from Nina's recital that I've been wanting desperately. It's lovely and perfect writing music which encouraged this absurd endeavor. "Weightless" by Courtney Jones - look it up; it's amazing.

What shall we say of Philly? It's old and urban; it's got a lot of personality and character and I love watching the people here. At night, it's just like New York - especially in downtown. Trendy little shops with beautiful architecture lining the street with illuminated signs. And then there's the crisp cool winds. I adore.

It's busy. Running, running, running. And a different job every moment. And lots of new people to enjoy. I adore. Zig Ziglar. I adore. :)

There have been things less lovely, but they're not worth mentioning here.

Four hours to sleep and I must be about that. But I have enjoyed my adventure thus far and it is only halfway through. So much more to come. And hopefully I'll remember to take pictures tomorrow. But for now, just sleep, dear sleep.

I miss you, my loves. I hope to see you tonight.

"With all the wondering, I'm weightless here in my dreams... mmmmm...."

(Seriously, look it up.)

Silly confession #24...

I absolutely love quotes.

There is something about them, some irresistible charm. They are language distilled into its greatest potency, expressing in a single concise statement a truth that books could be (and likely have been) written about.

Whether humorous, insightful or simply poignant, I delight to read them.

And I delight to copy them - always by hand - onto little scraps of paper and scatter them about any object that frequently meets my gaze (and that will hold still! I think I would permanently affix certain quotes to some of the people in my life if they'd let me...).

At the moment I am immensely annoyed by the fact that my computer at work has been completely covered and I have no more room for new quotes (unless I array them in straight lines, which is utterly unacceptable. Quotes must be scattered, not placed in an orderly fashion. It's true! A scrap of paper on which I have scribbled a favorite quote wants to be taped to something at a haphazard angle. I don't pretend to know why that is their desire, but one must give a quote what it wants...)

I have frequently toyed with the idea of hanging strings all down an empty area on one of my walls with quotes pinned from top to bottom - a subtle stage for the well-spoken wisdom of the ages to speak. Floating? Dangling? In any case, I love the idea of quotes somehow suspended in my room, unframed by a particular context, just as they are in my thoughts. Perhaps one of these days I will actually attempt this project.

And how I would delight to speak in quotes! To have my every statement be brief, memorable and worthy of immortalizing with that badge of honor: a hyphen followed by my name! Evidence of that lovely fulfillment of purpose - having once said something worth hearing.

All hope is lost, though, when I realize that this would entail people actually knowing how to spell my last name. God certainly does have an interesting sense of humor. Oh well, I suppose there's always marriage. Is there a Mr. Smith out there in need of a wife?

Well, my love to you, darlings. May you all find yourselves inspired to say something quote-worthy today!

Also indeed...

"Give me the splendid silent sun!"

- Walt Whitman