Sometimes, when the ache of the world
conspires with my own, and twines with terrible tedium,
my faith is stomped into a mudhole and kicked dry
and left for dead.
I lay, limp and without vigor,
dull and without sparkle
and I watch the forest denizens draw near hopefully,
wanting to drink of clear and glittery waters sweet and cold
But something smells off…me…fetid wounds and sores clotted and festered
smelling of fever and sorrow…and death?
So they slide away as if to not be seen, nor ever to have known
this well once so lively that is struggling and ambushed by thieves.
But I see them go, having crossed the road first
to avoid being sullied by the silly and sick well
that is failing to provide accustomed sustenance.
And I wish for just a drop…of water from another well?
My Samaritan? Are you out there? Can you follow your nose,
endure the stench of sweat and sorrow and despair?
Can you take me to That Inn, and pour oil in,
Just a kind word, when the well runs dry…
Hi Girl…
I think of you often,
your soul sparkle fierce and exultant,
but that ache,
that gash left by the fall.
Snatched away from your heart,
torn and sudden…and the grief, the rage,
the sadness, the ache
oh the ache.
But you are amazing to me,
for you shine still…
your shine is not a choice,
it is the You-ness of you,
and I know in my soul
that you are like a
wrung out sponge
to those in your life…
dipped into the wine,
into the water,
into the broth, and
gently wrung out
over parched heart lips
…drop by drop…
delicious, restorative,
and supremely precious,
for each and every drop
is infused by your
faith to carry on
in the face of that
which cannot be named
for it is behind empty,
beyond gaping.
Oh Dani,
blessing to this world,
and mother to many,
your words,
your small notes
sustained me
during a time
of mortal danger to me,
a time when despair
transmogrified into hyenas
slathering and gibbering
and growling
and darting
cowardly courageous in
to chew at my achilles heels
and hamstrings.
Seeking to lame me,
and then,
deliberate and cruel
to maim me.
But Dani
(David with sling and stone)
you with light touch and gushing empathy
lobbed your rocks towards
those foul goliaths.
Everyday
I thank God for you,
pray for you,
and ask that Lady Grace
would make straight your path,
would take up residence within you,
would make you the Temple
in ways
beyond magnificence
and
surpassing in their simple
comfort and joy.
You are one of the best.
Buck up
and stand up
and hold up…
Love,
Charissa
(Gentle reader, head over to Blooming Spiders for words of honesty, words of truth, and words of life)
Charissa's Grace Notes 
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