My hair is long My nails unkempt My clothes askew My face unwashed Thus unadorned I go before my day. This day, as the last and the one before it and the one before that. How many more? I cannot say I have no say Lord, how long? Instead, You turn me to me And I dare to look; one me upon the other, at the we that is only me. And I am I, the one you love, have loved still love. Take me to then, that then when it was just you and I and I was perfect. My hair askew but you were all I knew. My skin aglow when you're all I know. Naked and fresh Unwashed and penniless. That beginning time when You were mine and I was thine. And everyday hence that You proposed I go; Including this day when wilderness itself greets me at my front door and I step willingly into it. I, Worn plain Yet Your love is the same. Perfect and perfecting still.
Don’t just tell me you love me,
Visit when I’m sick
sick of life
sick of hardship
sick of loneliness
Nourish when I’m empty
pangs of hunger
out of options
Supply when I’m thirsty
offer a sip
of what you’re drinking
melted chips of ice
When I’m unprotected
victim of the hurtful
vulnerable to the willful
Don’t just tell me that you love me,
If I’m opposed, understanding
If I’m young, humor
If I’m old, honor
If I’m angry, calm
If I’m confused, clarity
If I’m distraught, empathy
If I’m falling, lift
If I’m hurt, help
Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these, you did for me.
The gruesome experience “informed” his art.
The break-in and near death experience, “informed” his life’s course.
The death of her mother by suicide “informed” her field of study.
The assault she survived “informed” her very life.
What happens in our lives in-forms us. What we experience forms us, on the inside.
We say we live in an information age. But… TMI. Overwhelmed. Can’t take it all in. Are we convinced that the more we know, the better off we are? How much do we really know after all we have read? Binge reading that which is designed to catch our eye — the moving target or the sensational headline — is not informing. That’s gorging. Over-consumption. Gluttony.
We can choose to stop and ask:
What has in-formed us? What moment? What word? What person? What experience? These have shaped our perception, our point of view, and our understanding.
What is now in-forming us? What are we allowing in to form our perception, point of view and understanding.
Christine Blasey Ford’s life has been in-formed by her “incident” with Brett Kavanaugh. Not only has she survived it, but she is living out of it. She has addressed the event and its circumstance and called it out. She has let it in-form her, so she can let it inform us. To speak publicly, in such an open forum, about such a traumatic and emotional experience is nothing short of miraculous. Yet, she has denied the experience its opportunity to torment her. Instead, she has turned the tables on it. She is leading our charge.
Forewarned may feel forearmed, and informed may feel like arming, but this is a different battle we’re waging, against an enemy we can’t see who employs weapons we can’t wield. We are being prepared for this battle by One who knows us intimately and is ever-transforming us. One who is constantly shaping, healing, and molding, sculpting, renewing and re-building with gracious, loving hands. With our consent.
Love doesn’t, love never, forces its way in.
Is it possible that all our experiences are redeemable, even when they’re too horrible to imagine or too painful to admit? Give them to me, God says. We can hold them together and make something magnificent. I am love. With me, all things are possible.
What in-forms you?
What is shaping you?
From the inside out?