Rapture Dream

In the dream I am younger, foolish, or maybe just in an alternate timeline. I am in college and for the first few weeks of the semester I keep missing a class because of some sort of social group attached to another class.

The repeated absences from the business economics class worry me, weigh on my mind, but I am actively choosing the warm, group project participation over a class I have registered for but have never attended. The idea of contacting the professor never enters my mind.

Finally, I decide I must go.

As I walk to the neglected business economics course, I see the group games people wrapping up a session. They are energized and talking to each other while I trudge off to face the uncomfortable unknown.

As I walk, I worry. Will I be able to catch up? What assignments have they completed? Will the professor have noticed I am missing? My concerns fill my mind.

Just outside the room, I can hear the professor tell the class to get out their graphing calculators—there is a test today!

I feel totally unprepared. No graphing calculator, I rifle through a bin to find scratch paper for a test as my heart sinks.

I walk into the room and approach the professor, who seems to know who I am despite my habitual truancy. I begin to try to explain myself—

“Hello, I am registered for this class…”

He cuts me off, sternly—

“Not as of today you are not.”

I am flooded with relief, but still worried. Do I need to confirm with the registrar that I have been dropped from the course? Will there be an academic penalty? Why have I paid for a course I did not attend?

Walking back, puzzling over the purloined business economics class, I see my fellow students engaging in a group activity.

They are arranging packaged snacks like sticky buns, coffee cakes, and Twinkies on folding tables so that an unseen cohort can sample them.

The contrast is stark. A minority group of students is facing a rigorous test, while most appear to be setting out and sampling junk food.

My last thought before the dream is over—

This is college? How strange.

Here I am, Adonai

I know a man who is fighting to live in order to be there for his wife. His struggle, pain, and uncertainty are deeply courageous, but also scary.

When physics seems inexorable, then believing in the deus ex machina makes a person look pretty crazy..

But I am not talking about Aeschylus or even Plutarch, I am talking about Jesus.

He doesn’t need to save a weak plot with a contrived entrance, and he does very incisively predict his own return.

I want to “pray deeper.” I want to pray the way I swim, respirate, or walk up a hill.

I want to spend the time I have imploring God to do impossible things now and forever after.

I need to keep my eyes on Jesus. He is the God Who Saves.

57 Million People

A few years ago I began a friendship with someone who was experiencing early signs of memory loss. My friendship with this person has been defining because

They retain their intelligence and personality even as the memory loss has progressed.

They are still deeply human, and their soul and spirit are not limited by the memory loss.

They are well-looked after by amazing people, but life feels fragile and they express that fragility with both pathos and Grace.

I do not like the term dementia. It has a whiff of pejorative madness. I try to maintain the common use of the primary symptom—memory loss, because we need a better word for what happens when anyone loses memory because of the multiple reasons any person can lose their memory. There is not one cause, and there should be care taken about “lumping” 57 million people together.

Please pray for all of us—all the humans, but please consider praying specifically for the 57 million humans who have memory loss.

God loves us all and nothing can stop him from speaking to each of us—even if the words might seem to evanesce in the memory.

The soul of Man lives forever

And the Son of Man has promised he will

Keep that which we give to him against That Day—or as my friend would add—“on all the others as well.“

Clothed in Light

The rain came down all day, in a dry and thirsty place

The rivers and gullies rose, brooked banks, flowed, opaque with runoff, to the sea

The little girl felt the weight of it all, no running across the bridge, no looking for turtles and treasury things

The kitchen dance party helped, and the toasted sandwiches

Thank you, God, for the gentle rain, the dappled night, and Dollar Tree ponchos

Which make us all shimmer like apparitions as we walk the dogs through, dark, light, shadow, puddles you can kick up into arcs with your bread roll clogs

Puddles so deep and wide a girl can see her own reflection in them

Reflection of Him (who made the water, who calls the rain)

Who calls us all to shine like this all the time

In the wedding clothes of Light

(Revelation 22

Central Texas)

This is the labyrinth

First, there is a forgotten Grace—tie this end to the fastening nail, hold onto the string no matter what!—

lights along the highway, who else is up at this hour?

-unspooling like a fishing line—

Saviors, truckers, a rogue paper man, and someone buying ice

-who knows how long the journey-

Love songs and lighted windows

Make a map out of insomnia and vigilance

Lost phones and lost loves

Welcome to the labyrinth/ hold tight to the scarlet cord

Every word that proceeds from the mouth of God

Dissolved into Light

She says

“That was too short!“

I tell her that it would have been longer if

She had been quiet faster

Will you write another one if I am quiet? She asks

Hard to, nay impossible to,

Say no

Beautiful mockingbird

Origami daughters

Their hair ribbons of color and light like their mothers

Were-are-will be

nothing shall be impossible”

Wind! Birds! Mockingbird! Mother!

He is

The wind that shakes the trees, lifts the wings

Heals the world

(John chapter 3–all of it!)

The Keeper of Time

Why must I know what day it is in order to prove that I am cognizant?

Time is a shape shifting chameleon

Once a sundial or a watch of the night

Now it monitors the heart

Attempts to forecast the rain

And makes us feel the limits of the box we cannot bust out of on our own

Meanwhile

Eternity, the Infinite

Has already won.

Love Letters

Dearest,

You remember better than I do the letter I once wrote to the justletsbefriendsboy.

Not like you—so far out of my league—worlds wake at the sound of your voice.

I want to squish your check sideways and demand your attention like the petulant but well-meaning child I am and love—

Grandma!! Look!

How does one grasp the attention of the Eternal Beloved?

Surprisingly easily because you love us so.

A really good listener

I want more like Christmas morning

Waiting for your voice

In the House,

Love.

Fifty-fifty

The deep blue and slivery moon

And the bearded woman

Shave then

bathe their cats

Affix bowties to all

Retrieve each

shimmery dress from the closet of

Yesterday-today-forever

Inventory chores

Left

Undone in the house

In the ambiguous darkness just short of

Midnight

Matthew 25:13 KJV
[13] Watch therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh.