Oh, perfect mystery.
How rumbling sound of never-stilling waves,
can rock my soul to peace.
Recently life has been more than a bit frantic. Working, parenting, housekeeping, wifeing… it has all been pilling up and pulling me round until I am wondering whether dizziness is just my perpetual reality.
And so, as an attempted remedy, I spent some time this morning in grounding prayer. Prayer in the sense not of speaking, but of listening. Of sitting in silence for the still small voice to speak to me.
And today, that voice spoke to my soul in lines of poetry.
Like a child’s spinning top
I launch myself at frantic speed
seeking the velocity
to let me balance on a tiny point of contact.
in my enthusiasm,
I push too hard.
No elegant display of spinning speed,
no ballerina poised on point am I.
I am the wobbling, panicked top about to
in my panic I reach out,
my hand and heart both grasping for the solid ground,
for a source of steadiness outside myself.
in that contact
that I am spinning on a world that spins as well,
and the Master Spinner does not need my feeble speed
To make the world go round.
I can rest here,
I’m spinning still in glorious mystery.
No introduction today. Sometimes the soul can only speak in poetry.
“I just want to be with you.”
my child’s plea
a stutter trying to interrupt the fast-revolving wheel
my spinning presence
in no moment standing still.
It feels unnatural to stop
with no objective
no self-validating task.
to only be
And later, open journal in my lap,
I grope for prayer,
for words to wake a passion in my soul,
to feel connection to a God I’ve walked with for so long
but feels tonight so far away.
Then, as my pen spills ink across a page
of spinning words, I feel an urge
a child’s longing
simple words that spell themselves
into my prayer.
I just want to be with you for a while
An image that my daughter loves
presents itself to eyes closed more in weariness than prayer.
The sister who sat at her master’s feet*
to sit and learn.
“She chose the better part.”
Rebuke refused, and welcome given her instead,
the disciple who knew how to be
I want to be that eager girl
whose eagerness leads not to movement, but to peace
to patient sitting,
knowing I will
find all that I seek
and even more
if I can simply learn to be
* The sisters referenced are Mary and Martha, whose story is told in Luke 10:38-42.