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Results For "Day: February 8, 2009"

Thoughtful

What I was getting at in the last post is simple: most inspirational writing requires no mental unpacking. It tells; it doesn’t show.

Nell Maiden (who, I recently and sadly discovered, died in 2003)  shows:

Prayer, September 29

Lord,
if it’s going to happen,
pack it in an earthquake.

Give me epiphanies that blind,
that trip or wring
and tear but leave no doubt.

Deliver me from diurnal grinddown,
from innuendos, suspicions,
from mere cells quitting.

Let it be fatal and instant.

Or stripe it with rainbow.
Call me to action with purple.

Lord, let me know.

I sleep in lieu of deliberation.

I’m strung staccato.

I’m insensitive to puns, hair growing,
the lampshade wearing thin, that shy kiss
that hardly costs a breath.

Lord, grant me moans.

And when it’s over, give me
a moment to realize and leave
me breath enough to say:
yes, yes, yes.

Amen.

That is what I mean.

But most Evangelical believers don’t seem to be interested in things that have multiple meanings, especially when it comes to belief and faith. They seem to be less interested in instant epiphanies than instant religious gratification: microwave dinners for the soul.

I don’t want my soul filled up with cliches.

In the Backyard

While much of the country still seems to be under snow and ice, we’ve had a warm spell. Spring comes early in South Carolina, with temperatures already in the mid-60s. It’s likely to cool back down, but for now, we’re enjoying the warmth.

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Such a change from the last group of pictures from this time of year. L requires a larger and larger arc on the swing to provide the same satisfaction. “Higher” she can now ask, and I wonder how much longer we can even use this swing. Certainly this will be the swing’s last spring.

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And yet there are plans for the replacement, and a tree house in the same area. “In a few years,” K says, but those few years will melt faster than the single snowfall we experienced here (in January of ’07).

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The little girl, evident in this picture, will quickly replace the lingering lines of baby, and before we know it, she’ll be talking about having a tree house.