Sunday, September 23, 2007

Sunday, September 09, 2007

Mother Teresa of Calcutta



"Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin."

She had left the convent she had spent years praying and teaching in. Suffering from Tuberculosis, she was on a train to Darjeeling with the intent of recuperating and resting. It was on this train that she heard His voice, the voice of God. He ordered her to leave the convent for good, and live among the poor and work with them. And so in just several years time she had started with a school in the slums to teach the children of the poor. And in a couple more the "Home of the Dying" was started under her direction. This woman denied herself all luxuries and comforts in favor of tirelessly helping those in need.

"I once picked up a woman from a garbage dump and she was burning with fever; she was in her last days and her only lament was: ‘My son did this to me.’ I begged her: You must forgive your son. In a moment of madness, when he was not himself, he did a thing he regrets. Be a mother to him, forgive him. It took me a long time to make her say: ‘I forgive my son.’ Just before she died in my arms, she was able to say that with a real forgiveness. She was not concerned that she was dying. The breaking of the heart was that her son did not want her. This is something you and I can understand."

She lived by grace. This woman saw suffering every day. She saw injustices the world could never imagine. She held it in her hands. Forgiveness was the only way. "If we really want to love we must learn to forgive." Hers was a religion of love.

"There is only one God and He is God to all; therefore it is important that everyone is seen as equal before God. I’ve always said we should help a Hindu become a better Hindu, a Muslim become a better Muslim, a Catholic become a better Catholic. We believe our work should be our example to people. We have among us 475 souls - 30 families are Catholics and the rest are all Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs—all different religions. But they all come to our prayers."

"There are so many religions and each one has its different ways of following God. I follow Christ:
Jesus is my God,
Jesus is my Spouse,
Jesus is my Life,
Jesus is my only Love,
Jesus is my All in All;
Jesus is my Everything."

She never loved to convert. Her service to those in need was for no reason but to love them. There was no ulterior motive. Her work was in honor of God, she did not place that on anyone else, or claimed that their way of honoring God was wrong. Every being that she helped held the face of God, every soul she touched was the very soul of Jesus. She understood the need for love, the hunger to be reached out to. God commanded us to go forth and love others as He loves us. And she did just that, simply and honestly and without expectation.

Mother Teresa was an inspiration to the world and an example of how we are to love.

And during all of this, during her love of those who needed love, care for those who needed care, help for the sick and dying, her life as an example of the love of Jesus, Mother Teresa struggled. For shortly after she came to Calcutta to live among the poor, Mother Teresa suffered a feeling of abandonment from the Lord. When once she heard Him speaking to her clear as day, she now heard nothing.

Mother Teresa described this time as "the darkness". She had known Jesus as her light and her salvation. Yet, she now lived in the darkness. And she struggled with her faith. She feared she might be a hypocrite by telling the world about the love of Jesus, her love for Jesus, when she wasn't even sure if she still had faith in Jesus. She even asked God for forgiveness for her stumbling faith in her letters, adding as a byline "if there is a God".

This news came through letters that had been hidden from the world and that were recently made public. And it sent a shockwave through the world. Mother Teresa, the woman who gave such love in the name of Jesus Christ, was not exactly 100% sure of her faith. This made her....

Human.

What a relief! I'm human too. And so are countless other Christians, Hindus, Muslims, Jews....... I'm willing to bet that everyone of faith has lacked faith at least once in their walk, especially those who are active in their faith. How can we not? There are so many unanswered questions in faith, so much that we with our human minds could not possibly comprehend no matter how much we prayed, studied the bible, researched history..... It's only natural that our faith might take a tumble from time to time, and for some of us, never return.

And yet this crisis in faith is rarely talked about. And if it is, it is never talked about in first person but rather about an "outsider". No, a real Christian would never question God's existence. A real Christian would never wonder if Jesus really was the son of God, if he was merely a man that people believed was the son of God? A real Christian would never wonder if Mary had merely gotten herself into a bad situation and created a lie to save herself from a stoning. A real Christian would not have confusion over whose words she was actually reading in the bible: God's or man's?

Friends, if this is true, then I am not a real Christian.

You know what I find most admirable about Mother Teresa's crisis in faith? Even though Mother Teresa felt an absence from God, even though she was not entirely sure He was there, even though she wasn't sure who it was that ordered her to leave the convent and live among the poor, her life path never changed. She felt like a hypocrite, yet her love for mankind never faltered. She still gave of herself unconditionally, bringing light to those who were in their own darkness. And I can even believe that Mother Teresa, in her darkness, could better understand these lost souls that the world had given up on. I believe that God's distance from her served his purpose through her.

And I believe that when Mother Teresa moved onto the next world, God revealed Himself to her after all those years of absence, and welcomed his obedient daughter home.

Monday, August 20, 2007

Determination

Today I had a disappointing meeting where I was seeking help with the cost of daycare so that I can work and be able to afford to continue living on my own. Apparently I make too much. Imagine that. It's almost laughable that my income, which is significantly lower than my expenses now that the kids are in daycare, is considered TOO MUCH. I drove him feeling a lot more like lead than the hopeful airiness I carried with me just that morning.

Upon entering the freeway, I was forced to merge between two large tanker trucks. It always makes me nervous to drive near these trucks because they are so big, and my car is so small. Should one of them not see me, they could crush me and probably never feel it.



Of course, our freeway is the kind that moves mostly at a crawl all day long. Today was no exception. I was only about five miles away from my exit, but I could tell it was going to be forever before I reached it, as my lane seemed to be moving to the tune of 35 MPH. I could see from my rearview mirror that cars were moving around the tanker behind me, and the fast lane was moving at a significantly faster pace than the lane I was in. If I timed things right, I could probably squeeze into this faster lane and get to my destination a lot faster. But it looked too hard, as these cars were moving a lot faster, and I was surrounded by these two big trucks moving incredibly slow. I would really have to get up to speed fast to be able to match the fast lane. And besides, I knew that if I did manage to pass the tanker in front of me, I would have a heck of a time trying to merge back in since inevitably there were tons of cars in front of it slowing it down.

The opportunity finally presented itself. A Fed Ex truck was slowing down traffic in the fast lane. When the car before it passed me, I made a last minute decision and whipped into the fast lane. Once the truck was not in front of me blocking my view of the road ahead, it was apparent that my assumptions had been wrong. No cars were in front of it, and the lane was pretty much empty. I merged back in to that lane and enjoyed the smooth ride home.

Life is like that. I have my own huge truck in front of me right now. It's called the expenses of being a single mother with a single income who makes too little money to handle all her expenses, and too much money to qualify for financial help. My big truck behind me is working at a job that I love that works me to the bone, pays pretty decently, but will not give me the full time hours I so desperately need, and still haunts me with the dangers of the layoff season underfoot. This truck in front of me is blocking my view of the road ahead, taking away my hope of ever reaching the place I want to end up (which at this point is anywhere on the other side of this truck). The truck behind me is allowing me only to see the other vehicles passing me by while I remain in the slow lane. And the fast lane next to me is making me afraid merge in, for surely I will mess up and crash.

I cannot see the smooth road ahead. It's almost like I refuse to. There are easier jobs out there with the hours and pay I need that will allow me to afford life. Merging in with the rest of those succeeding at life is not an impossible feat. I have just allowed these huge tankers to block my view and allow me to believe that I can't do it.

Well guess what? I can.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Be silent. Be still.

Life is hard. With all these different ways to connect: the internet, the phone at my hip, email, noisy coffee shops, work day in and day out....and yet loneliness tends to be the biggest feeling. And then there's this place of being in between romantic relationships. What I should be doing. What I should be wearing. Who I wish I'd be. Where I really should be on a Saturday night. What size clothes I should be wearing. Where I should be at 29. Never being enough. Noise. Constant noise. The world is just too noisy sometimes...... And yet....

I get scared of the silence.



In the silence, we're never truly alone. Perhaps in the silence we can find we really are loved, and we really are great, and we really are created perfect....in the image of God.

Monday, May 07, 2007

What I Forgot

I was unhappy.
My life had little to it.
I thought, 'Maybe I just need a change.'

So I lost a little weight,
and I allowed my skin to color.
And I got a little attention.
But something was missing,
and it wasn't enough.

So I bought some new outfits,
and I always did my hair,
and my make-up was always perfect,
and my lips always in a smile.
But something was missing,
and it wasn't enough.

So I saved all my money,
and used it only for necessities,
and I watched my savings grow.
But something was missing,
and it wasn't enough.

So I got a new apartment,
what I thought was the answer,
and I'll move in a couple weeks.
But something was missing,
and it wasn't enough.

So I got healthier,
and Pilates became daily,
and my cigarettes nonexistant,
and my food so much more wholesome.
But something was missing,
and it wasn't enough.

So I longed for a connection,
someone to ease my lonliness,
and I hoped that I'd be noticed,
and that this would distract me.
But nobody saw me.
And they looked right through me.
And my loneliness doubled.
And I felt more lost than ever.
And something is missing.

And that something....is You.

All my answers have been about me.
And I've forgotten my neighbor
and I've forgotten how to pray
and I've forgotten that you are listening
and I've forgotten that you have a plan
and I've forgotten how to let you be my center
and I've forgotten that YOU are the answer
and I've forgotten.....
I've forgotten.....
I've forgotten.....
Oh God, I've just forgotten.....
.....please remind me.

Monday, April 09, 2007

Brother Against Brother

"As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother's womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things." Ecclesiastes 11:5

"Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out!"
Romans 11:33



The biggest problem in the Christian community is the need to argue amongst ourselves about what is right and what is wrong when it comes to belief. Arguments like these are very dangerous, as mini wars amongst ourselves and our brothers and sisters evolve. Churches are splitting up. Christians are verbally attacking other Christians over difference in views of God, ways of attaining understanding, the ranking level of values, and what is true in biblical history. Believers walk away from their faith as the very foundation of Christianity becomes uprooted. The most important issue becomes HOW to believe and not just simply being God's children and the salt and light of the world. How are we to be an inspiration to those around us when the politics of the religion become bigger than God Himself?

There are many different churches that call themselves Christian. There's the Presbyterians, the Catholics, the Protestants, the Baptists, the Lutherans, the Quakers, the Mormons, the Evangelicals.... Each church is completely different, and their belief system and preachings are ranked in drastically different orders of importance. One may view sin as the most important area to preach on. Another may view love as the most important. Still another may focus on sitting in silence so that the Holy Spirit may move through them. And another may view history of where the religion came from most important of all. Some may believe that the Bible is literal, word for word. Another may view the Bible is half literal and half metaphorical. And still another may view the whole Bible as open for interpretation. And if you step into the different souls that attend these churches, the beliefs and values vary in a dizzying array.

When it all comes down to it, they are all trying to reach God, and believe their way to be the way to get there. And if it's really thought about, is there anything wrong with trying to reach God? Does it really matter if one person takes the bible literally, and another takes it metaphorically? Will God really deny those who do not interpret the Bible exactly "right" the Kingdom of Heaven? If that were the case, I think ALL of us would be in trouble, for who can really wrap their whole mind around God, understanding the ins and outs of it all?

As my own person, I know what works for me and what doesn't in my journey to God. What I find stifling to my relationship to God is another person's inspiration to God. And vice versa. What I find absolutely exhilarating in discovering more about God others may absolutely abhor. But when Christians battle other Christians for not believing exactly the same way, the whole purpose of being God's children becomes lost in the battle. We are brothers and sisters under the same Father, and yet we are arguing over who deserves the bigger inheritance for being more faithful.

What if God just loves all of us, marvelling at our vast differences, appreciating all our journeys as we strive to reach Him? What if the most important thing to God was that we were trying to reach Him in our best way possible and in the best way we could understand, and not HOW we were getting there? What if we were the only ones who were really responsible for our own journey, and no one could do it for us?

What if we were all simply God's creation, all created separately with different views and beliefs and values and attributes, but all equal in His eyes nonetheless, and all our souls created in His image?

Psalm 133
A song of ascents. Of David.
How good and pleasant it is
when brothers live together in unity!
It is like precious oil poured on the head,
running down on the beard,
running down on Aaron's beard,
down upon the collar of his robes.
It is as if the dew of Hermon
were falling on Mount Zion.
For there the LORD bestows his blessing,
even life forevermore.

Monday, April 02, 2007

Connection



We all long to be connected. Some how, some way. It's why the Internet exists. It's why my son acts goofy to make people laugh. It's why we smile at those who walk by us, or look out our windows when someone drives by our house. It's why we check our non-ringing phones, search the bills in the mail for that non-existent personal letter, look out for a car that never drives up our driveway. It's why I am here writing, hoping in this small part of the world, someone is taking the time to read the words I am writing. It is why I keep interrupting my cleaning of the mess that surrounds me, for cleaning is not a way to be connected. It's pretty solitary.

Today I connected with a bug. Yes, that's right. A bug. They aren't hard to ignore this time of year. I was laying on my lawn, soaking in the last bits of sunshine on a lukewarm day. I had just finished reading 4 chapters of a great book so I am caught up for homegroup tomorrow. And when I finished, I wasn't ready to leave my sunsoaked spot. So I laid the book down and rested my head on my arms. And I watched the grass. And in that grass, I noticed a green bug going leaf to leaf. And in those few minutes, I watched this bug do more work than I had done all day. He went to a leaf, painstakingly feeling his way around and allowing his small spiny legs to maneuver himself precariously. And then he would pause, and then drink in any moisture from this leaf through this small tube of a mouth. And when he was done, he would repeat the whole process.

In that moment, I was no bigger than that bug. And I saw the small blades of grass as the giant forest he was traveling. In that moment, I was connected to that bug. And it's funny, because as small as that bug was, I noticed him. But as large as I was, he never noticed me.

Sometimes things are so large we just can't see them.

The connection is out there. It does exist. And it's become so easy to look at the things just at our level as huge, and miss the things that are right there in front of us because we miss the details. Sometimes it's because they appear too small. Most of the time it's because they are too large. We are those insects in the forest of grass, focusing too much on our own details, seeing them as so large that we miss the bigger picture. We feel pain and regret, longing and sadness, want overcoming need, desire for that bigger pasture. And we miss the things we have, the God that is faithful, the kids who look up to us, the parents who care for us, the friends who are always a phonecall away. We miss all that for the things and people we lost along the way who are not giving us what we want. We miss all the things that are there to fulfill us for the lament over the things that fail us. And then we are so focused on our own misery that we miss out on the other people who need and depend on us, those that could really use our care and support while we lament over the care and support we aren't receiving from sources that won't freely give us that.

We disconnect.

And it's so easy to do, and so hard to get away from. There's always a need for more than what we have, missing what we've lost, taking for granted all that still remains, and always will.

And in that came the full circle of my connection to that bug. For he was working for what he needed, and not taking more, or even lamenting over, what he didn't have. It was all that simple. It's so simple, it's huge. And it's so huge, I am still having a hard time seeing it.

A Long Night at the ER

It's funny the things that go through your mind when you are sitting in an emergency room once the crisis is over. I think that's when instinct ends, and reality hits. For as the parent in charge, it never occurred to me the seriousness of the situation, and mom mode just took over. Calm. Cool. Collected. Everything's fine, just be calm....for her. Hold her hair back while she vomits, rub her back as she cries, smooth her hair as she panics. Be the one in charge as she looks at you with big, scared eyes.

I spent many hours of last night in the emergency room with my daughter. And it was only when she was sleeping in the hospital bed and I was left alone with my thoughts that I was finally able to get off my heightened sense of mom mode and sink into my chair over all that could have gone wrong.

Sunday night is bath night in our house. Time to get ready for the beginning of the school week. Summer was in the shower, I was folding freshly laundered towels, Lucas was playing with his millions of Legos, Yu-Gi-Oh cards, and new pictures of Sonic the Hedgehog I had just printed out for him off the Internet. America's Funniest Home Videos was on the TV, mostly for background noise, as both of us were too busy to watch. And as Lucas was talking to me about something or other, I heard a loud bang from the bathroom. I hushed Lucas and listened. And then I heard the unmistakable cry from my daughter.

There are many different sounds of crying that come from your child. There's the one when they're heartbroken. There's the one when they're angry. There's the one when life is unfair, and they can't have their way. There's the one when their younger brother is just too much to handle. And then there was the one that came from the bathroom. Scared.

I ran into the bathroom and whipped open the shower door. There stood my daughter, blood on her wrist, a panicked look in her eyes. I didn't even take a moment to be scared with her. I asked her what happened and she told me she had fallen and hit her head. A quick check to her head revealed an extremely large lump in the back. The blood ended up being a small cut on her wrist, nothing serious. But the lump was huge. I gently moved her back under the running water and finished washing her hair with as much care as I could not to irritate the growing lump. I then dried her off with a towel still warm from the dryer, and wrapped her up in her robe. She was crying the whole time, her body red from where the shower had beat her up.

It was supposed to be bed time, but I told her she was staying up with me. I made tea for all three of us and we sat to watch a Disney movie. In between crying from her aching head, she complained of not being able to see out of one of her eyes. I mentally took note, but to her I just told her she would be ok and to just not mess with it. She leaned into me on the couch, only drinking her tea to get down the pain medication I supplied her with. After 45 minutes, I determined that it was bedtime, and she would be ok. I figured I would check on her every couple hours, but her apparent exhaustion was needing to be relieved by some sleep. Of course, sleep petrified her. I could hear her crying in the bedroom, and I kept the TV low so I could run to her if she started to throw up.

Somehow I knew that this would be the order of things. Or maybe because this wasn't the first time she had hit her head so hard that a concussion was suspected.

Sure enough, I heard her cry again, and I was already running for a pan when she called out that she thought she might be sick. I held her hair back as she vomited repeatedly in the bowl. Yup, it was time for the emergency room.

My parents came home from their day out at about the same time I had made this assessment. I had just gotten her dressed into some warmer clothes. Lucas was already asleep in bed, oblivious to the bright bedroom light or the panic in his sister. I took turns in getting everything together for the hospital, and holding back her hair and rubbing her back as she threw up. I left Lucas with my parents and drove cautiously to the hospital as she continued throwing up.

The emergency room can be a nervewracking place to be at night. Well, really at any time. My mind was still not focused on the seriousness of the situation, but wandered to what we might encounter. Many years ago, when I had driven myself to the emergency room right before I had found out that my third baby had died inside me, I had been in the same state. I never focused on me. Rather, I saw the seriousness of those around me. One in particular was a mother calmly holding her child who lay still in her arms, apparently unable to wake up. That scared me. And as I entered the ER with my own daughter, I wondered what sort of horrors I would see. This time, with my daughter weakly leaning against me, I saw a shaking young teenager holding a bloody towel to his head, blood spattered all over his pants. And several Spanish families sat in the waiting room chairs. One Spanish man smiled sympathetically at my daughter and me, and offered us the chairs next to him. I gingerly sat down, Summer leaned up against me. I put my hand on her leg and gently pet her, hoping that the bloody boy didn't frighten her too much.

Eventually I was at the window filling out the paperwork. Halfway through, Summer began to throw up again. By this time, there was nothing left in her stomach, and I felt for her as I saw her painfully lurching forward. I left the lady at the counter and sat with her, encouraging her as she continued to gag. The seriousness of it caught the personnel's eye, and they whisked us right away to a room all too familiar to our accident prone family.

Of course, the ER is never a quick process. We spent about an hour in this waiting room getting her stats taken. They had trouble taking her blood pressure, and the poor girl had to go through repeated attempts of squeezing her arm right off from a faulty blood pressure cuff. Her temperature was rather low and her body trembled from the shock kicking in. They wrapped her in warm blankets and gave her a teddy bear that she hug tightly as if she were 5 and not 9. Finally, they gave her some medicine to help ease the urge to vomit, though she still lurched repeatedly with every movement she was forced to make.

Even more time taken, we finally got her over to get a CT Scan. She heaved a couple more times before we could place her on the bed, and I was made to stand outside while she had her brain scanned. The first time we ever did this, the man had allowed me to remain in the room, monitoring her from a glass room that viewed where she was at. This time, a lady was at the controls, and I was placed outside the room with no view but a heavy wood door.

I think this is when I first started to get out of mom mode and into the reality of, "what if things went wrong?"

My fears turned to my daughter, how she would feel alone in that room without her mom. Would she want to vomit again? Was she safe without me watching her? What if the CT scan revealed something awful? I think that last thought crept into my head for the first time at that point, never having entered my head before since the time shen I heard the bang in the bathroom. Suddenly I realized that she really could have a concussion, and what did that mean if she did? And worse, a thought that never occurred to me until now, what if she had cracked her skull on that hard tile?

Her CT scan was done, and I rushed back to her side. She still was nauseous, and throughout the wait for a transporter to bring us back to her room, she vomited several more times. We then spent the next several hours in the recovery room. I turned out the lights and gently prompted her to sleep, which really didn't need much prompting. I then sat back in a rocking chair in the room and rocked.

And this is when the mind starts to wander. We had already been there for an hour and a half. It was just after midnight. We would be there for several more hours. Idared not leave the room to be able to call my folks about the process. I didn't want to leave her. Besides, a security guard sat outside monitoring an inmate, or some kid on house arrest, and I didn't trust the situation at all. Thoughts of what ifs and oh my god filled my mind. Thoughts that pertained to the situation at hand, and what if that crazy guy across the hall snapped?

I also had plenty of time to think about my life at hand. For once there was no distractions from people, electronics, cell phones, computers. There was just me. And while that was terrifying, it was also necessary. And I wryly smiled as I realized that God had granted me a recent prayer of mine in his own way.

The one thought that stuck with me was the miracle of hospitals. Here was this place that many different people came to when they were in trouble. These nurses and doctors knew the many different ways to treat these people. If I were to put it in crude terms, it was like an auto shop, each person coming in for repairs. But it was so much more complex than that. Here were people that were not made by people, but created by God. But these doctors and nurses had become so skilled at assessing the different ways to fix the ails of people, and this was apparent by each different need I saw addressed by person after person wheeled by the door to our room. One lady was whisked by with an IV in her arm. The bleeding boy was rolled to his own CT scan. Doctors and nurses remained calm and humorous with each other in between being serious and dedicated to those who needed them. I thought about what it must have been like hundreds of years before, versus the knowledge we have now about the human body.

And still, I was reminded of the connection we all share as mankind, and the opportunities we have to strengthen that connection as these doctors and nurses were doing by aiding those that needed them.

It was almost 3 am before I got the word on how Summer was doing. The CT scan turned out negative for any damage to her brain or skull. The only concern was the hematoma, that could just be reduced by icing it. The doctor checked her reflexes, I filled out more paperwork, and we were finally on our way. I drove slow to avoid hitting the many daredevil deer, raccoons, and rabbits on the way, still narrowly missing a rabbit who jumped in the way. Summer was wide awake, and we chatted about her hard day, a day that didn't start with the fall (but that's a whole other story). I tucked her into bed, and finally collapsed myself, only to get up 3 1/2 hours later to get my son off to school.

This wasn't our first trip to the emergency room. I'm willing to bet it won't be our last. Summer's fine, her head aches a little, she won't eat yet, but she's up and watching a movie after sleeping in briefly. I think I'm headed for a nap myself after a long night.

Saturday, March 31, 2007

Beach Day

Today we left the sunshine of our town and went to the fog covered beach. Regardless of the cold, it was a ton of fun. My daughter spent the day with one of her bast friends, and we all had a blast. I even got the stunt kite up with the great wind that was blowing there. Here are some pictures from our day....




















Monday, March 26, 2007

Hope



I actually forgot
what yesterday was
until last night
when I was covered in fog.
And it brought me back
to how things change,
how prayers are answered
in unexpected ways.
And I remembered thinking
that life would never be the same,
and I was right
in more ways than one.
And I remember the fear
that I felt of the past
and the events that led
to new fears of my present
and eventually led
to the fall of the future.

Or so I thought.

Truth is,
things happen for a reason.
And the person of yesterday
is much younger
than the person of today.
And I find that I'm calmer
in the hopes for my future,
understanding
that I am a part of something
bigger than just me.
And though I am unsure
at times
of where I am going
I know I am not going down.
And I am standing here
one year later
with hope in my soul
and gratefulness in my spirit
and love in my heart
and serenity in my mind.
And I know,
I just know,
that everything is going to be fine.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Yeshua

Breathe in.
I feel the breath.
I hear it.
Breathe out.
Relief.
Every sound, it is one in my ears.
But it is many different things
making each sound.
The chirping of the crickets.
The frogs in the distance.
The roar of the cars on the highway.
Many different sounds,
one in my ear.
The things I see,
they are all combined in my eye.
The stars overhead.
The perfect lines of the clouds
drifting on an invisible wind.
The way the hills seem to be outlined
by an unreal glow that dips with each dip,
and rises with each rise.
The plane that flies overhead,
narrowly missing another plane on a different course
several miles away from each other,
but in the same spot in my sight.
All seperate things,
all unaware of the other,
but all one sight in my eyes.
The two become one.
The many become few.
All is seperate,
yet all is the same.
And when I breathe in,
I feel you.
For you are in it all.
When I breathe out,
you are there in my breath.
I don't need to see you,
not like I see the things of this world.
For you are in the world,
you are of the world,
you are the world.
And you are more.
To expect to see you
standing before me
would be to deny that you already are,
just not as my human mind perceives.
You are in it all.
And I am just one that make up many
that makes up one.
I am a part of you.