I was reading earlier and my mind became overun with all these things. Stuff - future, past, now, gotta do, perspectives... I have had a headache part of the day - eyes kinda squinty.

And with a sigh I put down the book and looked around and the realization was I am still greiving. Like a blinking yellow light that has been hidden by ... future, past, now, gotta do, perspectives...

So my next question was... "okay for how long"

Natural thoughts would say living life you should board up the house and close the curtains and blow out the candles and clasp your hands and hope for the best.

(I got the sense the river of words about to bubble up might be powerful.)

I think that is where the seeds of life start growing again - hope. Watered by tears and cultivated by time and harvested by truth.

I can't deny the last couple years have been ... in a sullen tone they have been hard.

I know that no one knows all the finer details and positions of thought; frankly I would rather most people not know. It's the living conversation of a soul between it's Maker.

It's the hum of hope I guess that brushed aside the here and now to reveal the blinking yellow light. It's that sound that is there when the flattery of empty compassion fades. It's stronger than the sting of death, and brighter in tone than the mumble of failure. There is a tremendous vital fountain of power and strength within hope that can make a man walk when all has been stripped away.

it's hold: no man can break....
... It's language: no one understands ... it's life: an unsatiable craving.... it's power: infinite in the boundary it's called.

So in retrospect... *sigh* I'm not thrilled about greiving. I think it runs it's course. I think in some ways greiving never quits. But the vast majority resolves in due time. There is also a notion that the more you know, the more you don't know.

The more you haven't a clue. So you start humming.


And after awhile depending on the circumstance, the tune becomes a cadence. A hymn. A prologue.

I'm looking for that day when I can breathe again and rest and be refreshed, and free.. free to sway with the music again where all the open sores of the stabbings and scathings are covered and healed.... no longer in need to remember but only a glance down to see and share the past scars and the overcoming power of that hum of hope. It's right around the corner I feel it. I know it with all of me I know it because once was shattered can only be stronger once it's together again.

But not of my own might.

But by grace of God, ... stilness. Quiet. Hearty laughter. Cool breezes and late night warmth. Music and good company. Beauty and mercy hand in hand.


Like waking from a restful slumber.