Right there
A little rim, a little edge
holding you in place
There’s actually nothing there
Only a barrier that can’t or can be reached
Just space
Just choice
Yours to take
But you don’t know
What marks the spot
What is the point
Past the point
Where is it
And what’s better past
I cliff jumped in Greece. I backed out the first go round. I could not get past the point of actually allowing myself to jump in. I don’t know what it was. It was a real life addition into all my thoughts and wonderings. In order for me to jump in, I had to not know. It’s funny to think about all the split second moments right before “not knowing.”
It was all tied into who I was, who I’ve been and who I want to be. Breaking past the barrier that you create for yourself is pretty hard. And you wonder what is it you think it shields. Keeps in or keeps out. I don’t really know, but the chance to see it and see what’s better past is a newness I’m now knowing.
I eventually did it. I jumped in. Another example of losing and gaining. Lost and found. Filled and replaced.
I lost and gained simultaneously, lost all sense of maintenance.
I’ve recently been on this thing of rewinding and reworking. What a place. It feels like an ebb and flow of circles and starts.
I’ve been reading a book from my friend Suze called Hinds Feet on High Places. Right on the opening page of the book is Habakkuk 3:19, a verse spoken over me about 6 years ago that I have seen and kept over my life.
At the beginning of the month in Romania I was reading a chapter called “Detour through the Desert” and I want to write out a few stand out sentences that have felt pretty real for me this month:
“I can’t go down there. He can never mean that- never! He called me up to the High Places, and this is an absolute contradiction of all that he promised.”
“No,” said the Shepard, “it is not a contradiction, only postponement for the best to become possible.”
He was leading her away from her heart’s desire altogether and gave no promise at all as to when he would bring her back.
“Do you love me enough to accept the postponement and the apparent contradiction of the promise, and to go down there with me into the desert?”
“I will go down with you into the wilderness, right away from the promise, if you really wish it. Even if you cannot tell me why it has to be, I will go with you, for you know I do love you, and you have the right to choose for me anything you please.”
There she built her first altar on the mountains, a little pile of broken rocks, and then, with the Shepard standing close beside her, she laid down on the altar her trembling, rebelling will.
Then they began their decent into the desert, and at the first step she felt a thrill of the sweetest joy and comfort surge through her, for she found that the Shepard himself was going down with them.
He is faithful.
