it happens as husband asks over fried fish, potatoes, "do you ever think babies speak in tongues?" (son singing to his fork, to his hand, to the sky)
it happens as i lie in the bath of bubble, seeing nothing but poke of knee and womb, and i'm tracing the scars, the one from the dominican where i burned my calf on a scooter, the other from capture the flag when i was eight sliding into grass, and my womb rises and the life inside it seems to giggle and the ceiling is blue cloud
it happens on the slide, in the squeal of boy, in the wrap of hand and the picking up and the doing it all over again in the playground by the library by the school by the co-op by the school by the church
it happens in the weeping at home, the wondering about purpose, in the sermon on Job and the death of a young boy, in a community dressed in black for the seeking, in the fear of God that rises like my womb from the waters of the earth
it. wisdom. happens.
in the less of me, and the more of him.
***
i bow now in thanks, with ann, in the hopes this practice might become genuine, and remember all those who have nothing yet still raise their hands to heaven:
251. the life of my son(s), still breathing, by grace
252. the hand of my husband, holding mine
253. the healing of body from bronchitis
254. sweet potatoes and turnips mixed with butter mixed with sugar
255. a phone call from my mother just as i was missing her
256. woodstove heat
257. people in church stopping to welcome this misfit girl
258. art hung in church by this misfit girl
259. books, books, books
260. long baths when so many go without water...
29 comments:
the tears welled in my eyes reading this . memories of my own slides. phone calls. scars . giggles . the warm tears always a comfort and for that i say thanks . blessings
"in the fear of God that rises like my womb from the waters of the earth"
What a beautiful line, a beautiful thought. Thank you for slowing us down when we come here, for making us see.
Loved reading this.
"the weeping at home, the wondering about purpose"
Yes, I have been wondering about purpose.
And now I think I have an answer.
:-)
i am weeping too, for joy, for sorrow, for grace in the midst of it all, for your lovely list of goodness and mercies following you...
254. sweet potatoes and turnips mixed with butter mixed with sugar
255. a phone call from my mother just as i was missing her
Thank you for these same blessings. And bless you and the baby in your body. btw, I used to think my little boy was talking to angels while he babbled away at the sky.
257. people in church stopping to welcome this misfit girl
with ya on this one. :)
and oh yes, praying for the less of me the more of him.
love your words, as always.
smiles. thank you for sharing the journey with us emily...wisdom happens, do we catch it, not always...and hopefully it does not require scars for us to do so...purpose, i seek that myself these days and for now have settled on making each day matter in his eyes until he tells me what else...
You have an amazing life. Just look at how many of us really, really love you?
So beautiful, Em. I love your heart. And the way you share it with us. Aren't we all standing in those misfit shoes? So glad to read of that little life inside giggling :). That makes me smile.
You capture so much of life with your words Em - so much that we all feel but cannot express. Surely true wisdom is less of me and more of Him; and we are all misfits in some way or other.
I am thankful for you - for the gift of your tender, wise heart.
Emily...everytime your pen brushes across paper, traces of that wisdom are left in the ink. Somehow they manage to evaporate and rise to rest here within my heart. Thank you.
It happens, too, in the squeal of a grandson in a restaurant as his parents try to shush him and his grandfather just laughs.
I sure do love that misfit girl.
I believe the answer to your husband's question is yes.:) Your art sings.xo
Your list makes me feel like we are best friends, so the same, so pregnant and so different. My scars are different, but you know, who cares?
Hugs to you, and your boys. I just adore boys. ADORE.
i just love you. i just do.
It happens in the sunlit splinters of the everyday.
It peeps through the curtains and you capture it with your pen and your perspective, focused on thankfulness.
You make me thankful too!
xx
loving that good always comes in the less of me... more of Him. beautiful gifts to share...
Oh, I am thanking with you, remembering my own young mama days as I read this...and thinking, aren't we all misfits? Except to Him, who made us the perfect missing puzzle piece to fit in His great heart.
Much love to you.
Great title - such a great focus.
The more I read you, the more I appreciate your imperfect prose.
I’m here from Ann’s this morning.
And I can see the thankfulness in each of your words – and the care you take in placing each one just where it needs to go.
And so after reading them I chose this one for my favorite today: 255. a phone call from my mother just as i was missing her (because we are never to old to not need our moms- and I’m way way older than you :)
Thank you for all of this.
God bless and keep you and all of yours.
misfit? it's all context. the extraordinary is always mis-fit.
love to you, sister.
You share so beautifully I feel like I know you and get you... through your vunerable heart, and words, and adjectives.
Thanks Emily. :)
I've been thinking of that sweet babe within you...thankful with you that he grows - to trace your scars someday with his bitty fingers.
Lovely, as always. :)
All I could think was, "From the lips of infants and children, You have ordained praise."
And the phone call from Mom--each one a gift, yes?
"it. wisdom. happens.
in the less of me, and the more of him.
***
i bow now in thanks, with ann, in the hopes this practice might become genuine, and remember all those who have nothing yet still raise their hands to heaven"
((amen.))
love to you, friend :)
-t-
You are graced with so much beauty, friend.
hugs,
Becky
Thank you , Em
Have a told you how much I love you ?
:) this smile's for you, my friend. what a precious girl and gifted writer you are.
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