PHYLLIS

I have a beautiful Grandma.

ON MY MIND

CHRISTMAS EVE

Moonlit ice, wax bleeding, sister, the book of John:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

There was a man sent from God whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light.

The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

(John testified concerning him. He cried out, saying, “This is the one I spoke about when I said, ‘He who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.’”) Out of his fullness we have all received grace in place of grace already given. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God, but the one and only Son, who is himself God and is in closest 

relationship with the Father, has made him known.

COMPASS

Give me your lantern and compass,
    give me a map,
So I can find my way to the sacred mountain,
    to the place of your presence,
To enter the place of worship,
    meet my exuberant God,
Sing my thanks with a harp,
    magnificent God, my God.

AN INTERN

Peter told me to reflect, so I'm trying.

What have I learned between September and December? What have I learned? 

I reflect. 

I've learned that when I pray, my voice is heard and echoes, reaching past what my eyes see and into something unseen, something unseen, like wind, but deeper, penetrating. I've known this, but not at the depth that I do now, because when I pray, truly set aside time to intercede and glorify, I feel so connected to the Father. So close to his heart. 

I've seen people, hurting people, dying people, people that are two seconds from slipping off a bridge in suicide, people that want to belong, but are scared of vulnerability, people that wish and wish things were different, better, people that are afraid to come in the open, but instead hide behind obesity, disease, shame, people that have everything, but nothing at all, people that are sick, but don't know how sick they are, people that fight and fight for themselves, their selfishness, their ego, but don't have love to give, people that only have a pack of cigarettes and a battered pair of shoes, people lost, lost people. Scars, ink, piercings, dyes, brands, immodesty, ethnicity it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. They are all the same. A beautiful sameness. A sameness in the way that God sees them. I long to see them that way. 

I've learned that tight-knit community can cause many tears and bruises, but the glory and beauty that comes from it, is worth the challenge. Charissa, Crystal, Lizzie, Amber, Maddy, Laura, Georgia; beautiful women, roommates. 

I've learned that attics and stairwells are lovely places to be.

I've learned that there is gray between every black and white. And that's okay. It's a whole new way of seeing, to see without judgement, to listen and listen without speaking, to try and try to understand, and give grace over and over again. I'm not talking about tolerance, I'm talking about being Christ to all people. To love with eyes that don't condemn, but with eyes that see a soul, a friend, and can creatively express that sight. 

I've learned that going out on a limb to make someone's day, will actually make your own day. 

I've seen God answer my prayer from ten years ago. He gave me an older sister; Georgia. We have had a whole lot of belly laughs, and probing talks, and ridiculous moments never to live down. I'll miss her. 

I've learned that Jesus shows his love for me through a phone call every night. 

I'll keep reflecting. 

101.

There is an obscurely painted book atop my windowsill, marked pages; my thankful list.

I am thankful:
1. For a daddy, stories he reads, deep voice.

2. For a home, my own, open doors, inviting.

3. For Swedish and Polish blood I bleed.

4. For a garden, hands creased in soil.

5. For mountains, that inward calling.

6. For makeshift farmer's shops in truck-beds at intersections. 

7. For library books, shared thoughts.

8. For beloved illustration.

9. For standing beside brother, hand-song, voice-song, uniting.

10. For constellations from the deck.

11. For hands to stain with work.

12. For poppies.

13. For wool warmth. 

14. For well-written novels.

15. For hand-picked.

16. For cedar-scented patch-work.

17. For the feeling yellow gives.

18. For height differences.

19. For first flight, quilted earth. 

20. For pennies, found on every walk.

21. For ink shaped mountains.

22. For nestled close, guitar to strum.

23. For river tubing, long summers ago.

24. For daring Mulligan cuts. 

25. For a bed, unmade.

26. For island bonfires on the St. Croix.

27. For family.

28. For envisioning.

29. For new day's light.

30. For friends in threes. 

31. For pencil markings in margins.

32. For little rogues.

33. For tasting the dust of the road.

34. For hammock tranquility. 

35. For young Lewis and Clark in every boy. 

36. For air-dried on clothelines.

37. For summer docks, carefree. 

38. For casual embraces.

39. For woodpiles to chop.

40. For drive-ins from car hoods.

41. For the reflected.

42. For mornings that don't begin or end. 

43. For the simplicity of perfection.

44. For aerial sunsets.

45. For pockets large enough for books.

46. For those wild, brown eyes.

47. For falls to climb.

48. For a fisherman. 

49. For Jesus, freely.

50. For wood warmth.

51. For multitasking.

52. For child affection.

53. For enduring, cherished beloved.

54. For soaking release, thunder to follow.

55. For daddy's arms.

56. For the ethereal.

57. For papery beauty.

58. For long rides, nestled to rest.

59. For the sent and received. 

60. For father and son.

61. For stars, counted.

62. For little aprons and stools to reach.

63. For antlers, designer's eye.

64. For forest, riches of dark corners, light streams. 

65. For northern lights, such silken treasure. 

66. For chopping it short, free, free.

67. For trumpeting tummies that giggle.

68. For too many books at once.

69. For rooftop thoughts.

70. For the honey taste.

71. For dipping.

72. For curling steam, promising liquid. 

73. For pulling sister's curls.

74. For sea cottages.

75. For dog warmth.

76. For wood grain.

77. For climbing arched bark.

78. For preparing meals.

79. For perspectives.

80. For greenhouses to wander.

81. For pioneering artisans.

82. For handwritten, postage sent. 

83. For authenticity.

84. For electric shows. 

85. For catching owl songs.

86. For rambunctious neighbor boys.

87. For what can be made. 

88. For hand-pressed.

89. For photos that remember.

90. For beats. 

91. For straw hats.

92. For cliffs to jump. 

93. For seagull call.

94. For candle-guide.

95. For where God meets us.

96. For the story faced. 

97. For shades of blue.

98. For sun's touch. 

99. For musty-dust smitten.

100. For eccentric characters.

101. For what is shared.

I am thankful.

BETHLEHEM STORY UNTOLD

And a great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars. She was pregnant and was crying out in birth pains and the agony of giving birth. And another sign appeared in heaven: behold, a great red dragon,with seven heads and ten horns, and on his heads seven diadems. His tail swept down a third of the stars of heaven and cast them to the earth. And the dragon stood before the woman who was about to give birth, so that when she bore her child he might devour it. She gave birth to a male child, one who is to rule all the nations with a rod of iron, but her child was caught up to God and to his throne, and the woman fled into the wilderness, where she has a place prepared by God, in which she is to be nourished for 1,260 days.

Now war arose in heaven, Michael and his angels fighting against the dragon. And the dragon and his angels fought back, but he was defeated, and there was no longer any place for them in heaven. And the great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world—he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him. And I heard a loud voice in heaven, saying, “Now the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Christ have come, for the accuser of our brothers has been thrown down, who accuses them day and night before our God. And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death. Therefore, rejoice, O heavens and you who dwell in them! But woe to you, O earth and sea, for the devil has come down to you in great wrath, because he knows that his time is short!”

And when the dragon saw that he had been thrown down to the earth, he pursued the woman who had given birth to the male child. But the woman was given the two wings of the great eagle so that she might fly from the serpent into the wilderness, to the place where she is to be nourished for a time, and times, and half a time. The serpent poured water like a river out of his mouth after the woman, to sweep her away with a flood. But the earth came to the help of the woman, and the earth opened its mouth and swallowed the river that the dragon had poured from his mouth. Then the dragon became furious with the woman and went off to make war on the rest of her offspring, on those who keep the commandments of God and hold to the testimony of Jesus. And he stood on the sand of the sea.

Revelation 12.

BALLOU

14 July 1861 
Camp Clark, Washington [D.C.] 

My very dear Sarah: 

The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days -- perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.... 
I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American civilization now leans on the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and sufferings of the Revolution. And I am willing -- perfectly willing -- to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.... 

Sarah my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me unresistibly on with all these chains to the battle field. 

The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our sons grown up to honorable manhood, around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me -- perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar, that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battle field, it will whisper your name. 

Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often times been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness.... 

But, O Sarah! if the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the gladdest days and in the darkest nights . . . always, always, and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath[;] as the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.... 

A week after this letter was written, Ballou, Union officer in the 2nd Rhode Island, gave his life at the Battle of Bull Run. 

CAPTURING

Sleepy head peeked from lazy pillow-that was enough, I jolted awake, heart leaping. 

Three windows, angled outward, glass framing pictures of yesterdays' world; gone, snow-falling in penny-sized flakes, rendering everything new.

I slipped on boots and hat, camera in tow, and walked to those familiar places made unfamiliar by the white.

I met this father. He was taking his son for his first walk in the snow. 

It has been a beautiful morning. 

LISTENER: WOODEN HEART

We’re all born to broken people on their most honest day of living

and since that first breath... We’ll need grace that we’ve never given
I've been haunted by standard red devils and white ghosts
and it's not only when these eyes are closed
these lies are ropes that I tie down in my stomach,
but they hold this ship together tossed like leaves in this weather
and my dreams are sails that I point towards my true north,
stretched thin over my rib bones, and pray that it gets better
but it won’t won’t, at least I don’t believe it will...
so I've built a wooden heart inside this iron ship,
to sail these blood red seas and find your coasts.
don’t let these waves wash away your hopes
this war-ship is sinking, and I still believe in anchors
pulling fist fulls of rotten wood from my heart, I still believe in saviors
but I know that we are all made out of shipwrecks, every single board
washed and bound like crooked teeth on these rocky shores
so come on and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

I am the barely living son of a woman and man who barely made it
but we’re making it taped together on borrowed crutches and new starts
we all have the same holes in our hearts...
everything falls apart at the exact same time
that it all comes together perfectly for the next step
but my fear is this prison... that I keep locked below the main deck
I keep a key under my pillow, it’s quiet and it’s hidden
and my hopes are weapons that I’m still learning how to use right
but they’re heavy and I’m awkward...always running out of fight
so I’ve carved a wooden heart, put it in this sinking ship
hoping it would help me float for just a few more weeks
because I am made out of shipwrecks, every twisted beam
lost and found like you and me scattered out on the sea
so come on let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, just some tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

My throat it still tastes like house fire and salt water
I wear this tide like loose skin, rock me to sea
if we hold on tight we’ll hold each other together
and not just be some fools rushing to die in our sleep
all these machines will rust I promise, but we'll still be electric
shocking each other back to life
Your hand in mine, my fingers in your veins connected
our bones grown together inside
our hands entwined, your fingers in my veins braided
our spines grown stronger in time
because are church is made out of shipwrecks
from every hull these rocks have claimed
but we pick ourselves up, and try and grow better through the change
so come on yall and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, were just tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

Video of 'Wooden Heart'

WEDNESDAY MORNING

3am
Knuckles on wood
Black hair framing brown eyes, peeking in
'I can't breathe. I...' words falter
Body wrapped in Scooby-doo fleece
Ice cold, boiling
Ghost faced
Delirious
'I can't stop shaking' whispers through parched lips
Trembling, every bone, an ache building
If demons possessed, this is what I'd imagined
'Breathe, breathe,' I soothed
Wrapped in my arms
Tears in both our eyes
Falling like prayers
'Jesus, please...' fear gathered in my throat
I brushed black hair, stroking, her head nuzzled against my neck
'Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus' her repeated mutter
'You are good, Jesus. You are here, please, calm her, ease her trembling, give her breath.' Out-loud, I prayed.
Jesus, don't take her life, don't let her die in my arms! Show me what to do. Inwardly, I screamed
Georgia.
Georgia would know what to do!
I dialed, she answered.
She had been awakened two minutes before my call, unable to sleep.

Jesus is good. He hears.