Words Replace The Boot


Words Replace The Boot

I could kick myself
Literally, not figuratively, no
If I could figure out how
To put a swift quick to the rear
A boot in the hind quarters

A kick in the pants
Would remind me
When I hurt
That I have hurt
And a tangible ache
May move into action
A sedentary bum.

I have widows as neighbors
And poor in my midst
And letters to write to Peru,
To my girl.
But sin visits me
And stays awhile
Inaction is omission
I blame Eve
It is easier that way.

The last time I checked
It stings
It stung
And it stinks.

Preachers preach
And teachers teach
And poets, wax

And weave words that go places
Visiting the sick and shut-in
Takes legs and guts and heart
A body in motion.

Oh I have words, ones that rise up
And hang
Like a cartoon-ish figure
I am a  caricature of one who cares and acts
My thought bubble floats above me
Invisible to all
Seen by no one
The hazy desire to act
Stick a pin in it and pop it
I am done

Faith without works
Is settling in.

It is time for the words that hang in the air
To walk the road that leads to the widow

And mail the note that goes to Peru

And nothing is happening
While I am figuring out
How to kick myself

There is a foul odor
And it smells like guilt

Love is a verb
And a noun
And the greatest of these

To love the all of these
And float the bubble of hope

Love gets off the couch

Replace the boot
But Grace
Replaces guilt.

Blogology and Those Darn Tired Turns of Phrase

What about a little backing up and regrouping.

I believe if I were you I’d want to know the why’s and the how-come’s behind the space. The one right here which often irks the grammar police, I feel certain. Because I was born in 1959 I was taught there are two spaces after a period and last week I learned there is only one. And that looked like a run on sentence to some.

What were you thinking? Sort of a blogology or blogging credo or mantra or something.

I love that you are here and it blesses my heart, literally not like the wonderful southern  cliche which I use far too often. But it truly does.

So if you are here and when you are here this is a bit of the “what was I thinking”.

I do love that you are here and that we can walk shoulder to shoulder through this life, or parts of it at least.  And I almost said “walk through this journey” together. Darn those cliches. It is that though truly so until I find a fresher more unique to me and my voice way to say it,  I’ll  just say journey.  And then I’ll ask you to extend a bit of grace for the lack of originality.

I do love this community of ya’ll. You know who you are. I don’t want to label you or define you or put you in a box or slap a term on you. Because if you are here, until you tell me why I guess I don’t know. Really. For certain. But I am grateful. And every time you speak through the comment box I can feel and smell and hear your presence. And I am thankful that my spam catcher catches some CRAZY stuff. I mean ya’ll should read it sometime. But I digress. You all teach me, encourage me, and inspire me.

Please know that when I am here and you are there, my deep longing of the soul is to type, say, write, and present that which is honest, real, true, and authentic . Thank you for allowing me to share pieces and parts of my story as I feel lead and at the leading of the Spirit.You are gracious and you seem to be great listeners.At least from my vantage point.

Thank you for remembering that each post is just a snapshot in time, a piece of a larger part. In order to see and hear more completely, well, you may need to follow and read more of the parts and pieces. That is to say, one post does not make the man. Okay, I am a woman which you undoubtedly know by now. And when I update my “About Me” on this blog, I will add that though cliches seem to annoy me, I seem to have more than a few popping up. Got to fix that.

Which leads me to telling you how I would like to offer you fresh posts. Unique perspectives. And a mix of how I see with what we all see as a community of Christ followers. In our shared humaneness we share so much, but as individuals it will always be mad crazy deeply unique to me.  I can truly only really write honestly and passionately from my insides. From my own knower that was formed from my heart, soul, mind and spirit. So what I write, probably should look like my story. That you read and that you come is still amazing. Simply beyond amazing. But don’t we all hunger for the creative. And don’t we long for Art. And don’t we seek excellence and not mediocre. Please know I try to bring it and to lean on and into Him.Thank you for grace when you see stale. And when you see less than. I offer my apologies, truly.

Sometimes simple is  strongest and the straightest way to real. I love to write. But man oh man do I love God. You all should hear some of the things he’s brought me through. So I want to point to Him and honor Him with my writing. If I don’t, you all can help. Keep me accountable. That would be lovely. And I thank Him  for the privilege of writing and the honor of your eyes being here.

And because I just wrote that last point, you know the one above, I need to heed my own advice and keep this simple. Therefore, I will stop. But I do reserve the right to write a Part 2 of this Blogology post. You’ve seen some posts have both a part one and part two. If you haven’t you can search the archives. There is at least one there. Or rather here.

Did you think because there were shrimp boats in the photograph I was going to make a reference to this blog being a voyage? Well I am not. But I am going to thank my friend Harriett for her wonderful photograph. And I do try to mark my own photography with “wynnegraceappears” in the corner. At least I have for several months. But today and other days, my dear dear friend Harriett has given her gift of photography freely and generously for its use on this blog. Thank you Harriett. You’ll see some more from her.She’s got talent. And she loves the Lord in a big way. I will ask her permission to tell some of her story. It will bless your socks off. (mixing metaphors is so much fun).

Thank you for viewing life through this lense of grace. And if you were counting the number of times I used truly…..it was probably more than once. And you can practice wild grace even now for that.

And if you thought I was going to thank you for your comments before you even left one, you were right.If you come back tomorrow I will probably start more than one sentence with And. Got Grace? (Is that a cliche yet?)

Linking with Heather and Jen. And I am grateful for their hospitality. Thank you ladies.

Eyes Wide Open- Living A Good Story

I am going over to Prodigal Magazine to link up with a writing project entitled “What Does It Mean To Live A Good Story”? But I am not ready to write this piece. Not quite yet. Honestly, its a bit scary.

So this is where I get brave and think with my fingers.  This is where I process and ponder and ask for His grace to be authentic and brave.  And real. And encouraging.

And this is the one where I say that isn’t the most important part of living a good story being awake, fully alive, real and honest.

Isn’t being eyes wide open a really good place to start.  Being present and aware and connected to all of those things around us, around me, anchors  the heart in the lines and paragraphs, in each and every word even, of our good story.

If I fall asleep on the pages or doze off mid-sentence, then I am sadly not present.

There are the parts that are dog-eared.  You know the ones that are marked with brilliant yellow highlighter and turned down page because they are special.  We want to go back there and stay.

But what about the parts which are riddled with conflict, or pain, or sadness.  What about the chapters that are just plain difficult to live once, much less re-live a second time.

Oh but these are the part where the main character is  afraid, very afraid.  This is where fear and doubt creep in. And she tries hard to be brave. These are the parts of the story where we hide our eyes and look away.  We hold our breath and glance away or get out the kleenex.

These are the parts where the husband leaves for a season, and she doesn’t know when and if he’ll return to the home.  And with the brave and the pain come healing and change. And transformation grows out of the dark, wet soil, stained with tears.

The important parts  hold uncertainy. The critical life-altering chapters bear  a fork-in-the-road, a turn or a twist in the life direction.

This is the part of the story where the main charachter digs down deep, cries out for God and is shaped and molded, held and loved and loved and loved some more.

Every good story has Hope and a longing after love in the center. A good story has suspense and uncertainy of the outcome.

There are parts where the heart longs so deeply after the love of another. But waiting is often the most important part.  Without waiting and preparing we would miss so much. The waiting through, the working through, the being shaped in the middle, this IS the story.  This is at the heart of the good story. This is the part we sink our teeth into, it the substance. We savor the sweet and the bitter of the tears and the joy. We taste it all and it is good.

With out waiting and wondering and Hoping there would be a beginning and an end, but what about the messy middle.  Oh, these are the parts where the story gets good.  These are the meaty parts with heart and soul and courage. This is where we linger.  This is where we live.  This is where change happens.  This is the formative part of the story for our main character.

I know an important chapter of a very good story where a mother waited and waited for a baby to love.  To join a little family that had love to wrap around another. A good story  ripens and with the ripening and preparation for birthing the story, the characters are shaped in unimaginable ways.

Our life stories look so different when we glance back and study them from where we are TODAY.  But the only way to live, is to go forward. To live forward. One day at a time. To  go forward with honesty.  Go forward with authenticity.  Go forward through the closed door, the brick wall, the muck and the mire with boldness and faith. And a very brave heart. Open for all that He has for us.

We often would not write nor script what we have lived.  But embracing each word, line, verse and chapter as learning and as our own, makes our story a good one.  Because it is ours. Because it is good since it is ours.

Every good story has an ending.  I don’t know one that doesn’t end whether I am ready for the ending or not.

That is why the messy in the middle, the meat of the center, the rarest, rawest parts are so important.  They are the good story.  They are the good parts.

This is where the bruising comes, the banged up knee and the bloody noses of life. This is where the bankruptcy is declared, and infertility deals uncertainty, and kids change schools, and parents get sick, and friends face tragedy, and loved ones are lost.  And you know all this.  You have your story too.

But a good story well lived takes all the pages between two covers and braced by one spine, and seeks to wrap it all in Grace and all in a thankful heart.

And say this is mine.  This is my story.  And tomorrow will bring joy and surprise and a chance to do a bit of editing and changing of decisions and perspective.

I am not quiet ready to write my piece for Prodigal Magazine.  But I am close. And I am getting braver.  And I am preparing with eyes wide open. But  for today,I have a story to go live.  And for that I am very grateful.

How about you.  You can tell your story too. You can go over there or you can leave me a comment about living a good story.

Thank you for your Grace, here, today.

wishing you His Grace….