|Mt. Rainier, WA state, Paradise side|
I blame her for these can’t-miss tears. These every-time-I-read-her-posts tears, that dry on my skin and keep me choked up, that blow my world apart and make me want to say, ‘This does not fit.’
This. This world, with its horrors right where I live and merciless children killing their grandparents in my own backyard and women trapped in slavery down the street from where I live, and children neglected, abandoned, ignored right in my neighborhood.
This does not fit.
And I want to join Ann in her cry of ‘Now, folks!’ ’cause it’s now that we have to do something.
And all I can see and say is, “God, help me get this mixed life of mine set straight soon so I’m not staring at boxes and worrying about rugs and fighting over lamps and shelves.”
Get this project done so my glutted, gloriously, over-abundantly provided for life is set right and it can make a difference where it matters.
So this home with the soft new surfaces can grace some folks with open sore hearts.
And it’s overwhelming and I don’t know where to start because there is disorder everywhere and so much out of sorts in every direction.
And I remember this book and crossing over stones and beginning a journey.
That knowing you need to move and do and go isn’t done by scaling Mt. Everest today or walking to Nairobi overnight, but that it’s done by readying now and steadying now and picking up what’s right in front of you, in your hands, that you have.
Doing some small thing, heading in the right direction,
Pick up your lanterns shedding beams of light.
Pack some bread and become the food.
Fill up your bottle of water to slake their thirst
and just begin.