Fingertip to Fist

He said, “Come in tomorrow and pass the fetus.” 

As if it wasn’t a baby. 

As if it hadn’t been a baby all along.  As if I hadn’t made up a cozy walk-in closet and fingered crocheted booties and refolded soft doll-sized blankets for months and months in between throwing up in toilets and gutters. 

She was a wiggler.  The mountain of her back and head rose and fell and rose and fell,

her tiny hands tracing imaginary lines within me. 

I matched line for line, fingertip to fist. 

She clung to my ribs like a gymnast gripping the uneven parallel bars, giving me indigestion.   

Her heart beat steady, fast, strong. 

I listened through a borrowed stethoscope, loving her, eavesdropping on her small world. 

Her heart beat out the rhythm of expectation.

Her heart beat out mother music—till it stopped. 

Then the dark whisperings—

those dark whisperings in my ears made my hands sweat. 

“She’s just turned, waiting to be born,” I said.  “I rebuke you, Satan,” I said. 

“Please, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,” I said.

“Come in tomorrow and pass the fetus,” he said.

Rock Tree

Rock rooted,
granite gripped—
foothold firm against
wind, rain, and frost’s bite;

alone,
the crisp cold shaking your branch—
barely a shadow maker;
strong,
no companions to break the force,
barely a bristle raker against
wind, rain, and frost's bite.   

Contentment

Calm . . . teeth unclenched,

open heart and open hand—a consenting—

needing all the sighs and soft breathings,

the sinking, deepening resolve that

enters in . . . and

nests in seclusion in my once

tormented  

mind:

Even in eddying chaos that

niggles at my new found peace, there is intentional calm in this single moment of

time.

(11-11)

Random Acts of Blindness

·         Not seeing the person of indescribable worth underneath the plethora of tattoos and piercings

·         Seeing the woman with the “Hungry” sign in the middle of the median as another uncomfortable part of an already stressful day

·         Ignoring the person with their mouth open, wanting to contribute to the conversation, because my point is more important

·         Waiting for the moment to interject the description of my pain and not seeing one who suffers with no helper

·         Rolling over and going to sleep when a spouse needs to know they are loved and necessary for more than practical contributions

·         Switching the channel when the bloated baby comes on because we’ve all seen it before, and my measly 10 bucks wouldn’t help anyway

·          Not touching the one who just needs a human hand of reassurance because touching strangers is not what I do

·         Slipping a dollar into the can when a conversation was what was needed

·         Asserting power as a parent just because I can, instead of humbling myself and asking forgiveness

·         Seeking conversation, affirmation, and “likes” from strangers and long-ago acquaintances when a neighbor who is lost and battles addiction, struggles alone, right next door

“Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Enter, you who are blessed by my Father! Take what's coming to you in this kingdom. It's been ready for you since the world's foundation. And here's why:

   I was hungry and you fed me,
   I was thirsty and you gave me a drink,
   I was homeless and you gave me a room,
   I was shivering and you gave me clothes,
   I was sick and you stopped to visit,
   I was in prison and you came to me.'
Then those 'sheep' are going to say, 'Master, what are you talking about? When did we ever see you hungry and feed you, thirsty and give you a drink? And when did we ever see you sick or in prison and come to you?' Then the King will say, 'I'm telling the solemn truth: Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me.'”
(The Message—Matt. 25: 34-40)

The WEAK in Review

Note look of pure innocenece!

Well, this foible was not my own, but very closely related!

Hubby took our collie for his nightly run--hubby on bike, dog on foot.  So far so good.  When hubby stopped to chat with our neighbor of over 22 years, said dog raised leg and peed on said neighbor's pant leg and slipper.

Though said dog is wont to christen trees, plants, hydrants, and any free-standing landmark, he has never ever been known to do this kind of rude deed.  (Oh, well, there was that one time he peed on the desk at the health club; but with the excitement of the visit, and with all that testosterone in the air, it was perfectly understandable that he should seek to mark his territory!)

This christening, however, is apt to have a dampening effect on our neighborly relationship!

So our collie wins top billing for the WEAK in review.

Stormclouds--an acrostic

Scudding across a

tormented space, furious foes of light and

oppressive indigo

rage wet breath,

mingling spears of light with leaves and dust and

cold, hard, layered stones.

Loud collisions—claps

of heaven’s violent

underbelly—

deafen we who run for

sanctuary.

Yummy Healthy Muffins

http://themusicalgardener.blogspot.com/2011/10/missus-marvelous-muffins.html

This is a link to my brother-in-law's blog.  He posted a muffin recipe that my sister tweaked till it approached yummy status!  There is no refined sugar or oils, and it is full of fiber.  Good healthy eating!  Try some.