In thinking about presence,
about being present,
I can't help but think about story,
And how sometimes those stories
make us into people who would rather not be present
in the day where we live.
There are times,
when I remember...
I think even of just recent times,
days, weeks, months...a year ago,
and I want to push it all down.
Rush past the pain
that memory remembers.
this just makes me angry.
My husband says it makes him bitter.
And soon the heart grows hard.
And I miss so much
And the pressure often makes me break,
as bitter, brittle things do.
Sharp edges hitting others,
mostly the ones I love.
I think of Ty.
I'm certain he walked through much
that could make him hard.
he stayed tender.
He remained present.
And he cried often.
He said he was called Pastor Cry in the 'hood.
The last time I heard him preach,
And I know
it's because he was in the moment.
And I can't believe that had he been holding on to what can make you hard
he would have been able to weep as he did.
Live like he did.
He used to say: God loves me more than anyone else. Not really, but sort of.
transformed his life.
Transformed his story.
this life we've been living,
our story together,
my husband and I,
has not been easy.
In such a short time
there have been so many changes.
And the dark presses in.
One day I prayed: God...why can't anything be easy?
(I'm aware of how entitled I sound)
And He, in His great love responded: cry out to me...that is easy.
So, we cry.
And His love,
it steps in
and reminds us He is not silent.
Our edges are softened, then,
made translucent even,
so light seeps in.
And we weep.
Because He loves us.
In the midst of our story,
despite our story,
because of our story.
We are present.
Because of Love.
And our tears are our gratitude.
A humble offering of thanksgiving.
living a life of presence, then,
is the easiest life of all.