Dancing the Blues

So you get to thinking that you can't draw another breath.  That you're never going to heal this time.  That the pain is too much and the sorrow too weighty to bear.  You feel stripped bare 'neath all that crushing hurt.  But isn't God just somethin'?  Kids crank up their music, and we all dance it up in the living room.  Shaking the devil and stomping that floor of doubt.  Hard.  Movin' and groovin' those blues out in this big ole goofy dancing way.  Laughing.  Loving each other.  Stretching our spirits out to reach the broken one riding around town somewhere.  Out there.  To stand in the gap.  Make a bridge with our joy and try to stretch it across to him.  Life line.  Love line.

And even eyebrows can dance.

Bernadette 

To Forgive

So here is the chance to extend grace where it was not given, and I am so glad that we belong to God.  That we are safe.  That He is kind.  And that His goodness is all good.  For us.  For them. That He wants not what is just alright, but that He wants the very BEST for all His kids.  That He leads.  That as His lambs, we know His voice,and we follow His voice.  Oh, what a privilege!  To be holy instead of hot-headed.  That's what the Lord has done here.  So.  Thank You for that, kind Jesus.  And now, we just know that You are making a new way.  That we can trust You absolutely.  In all things.  In this.

In the pain that makes us great.

Like You.

Bernadette 

Home

The Silent Deep lies in deepest sleep.  Here.  Under this roof.
His smile heals all the far apart, and there is no part of him that is not a man.
Still my boy, you know.
But a man.
I am his mama.
I am his thankful mama.
Just taking this huge breath.
Called relief.
And as he becomes more...
yes, it's true.
I become less because a young man's glory is his strength.
And it makes me smile.
Because I'm a bit tired there, resting my head under his chin.
All the children home, and how could I take such a gift for granted?
ALL here.  ALL home.

Simply Grateful,

Bernadette

An Anniversary

Twenty years tomorrow.
Thanks to You, Jesus.
The union has not been broken.
The weld still holds.
And I love this man.
Who works so hard at loving me.
Who begins...even after all these years.
To see me.
Really see me.
And who becomes.
More and more like You.
Every.  Single.  Day.
And how I begin too.
To believe.  To trust.
To try.
And there is all that goodness- that GODness.
In you.
Just wanted to say "Thanks".
For giving me this man.
Who shows me who you are.
In the way he smiles at me.
With those great big lights in his eyes.
Who puts me in the flood.
Of his love.

Of Yours,

Bernadette

The Agony of Love

Picked him up late, the Kind and Compassionate.  Tired.  He folded himself into the seat and shut the door.  I turned to smile at him.  Tell him that I miss him when he's gone, but he'd already dissolved down into tears.  His shoulders shook the whole car, and he gasped for air but caught only great sobbing gulps of grief.

"I put a Man on the cross, Mama!  I put a Man on the cross!  I had him beaten beyond recognition, and tortured so cruelly.  He was innocent.  I'm just...awful!  How can He love me still?  How?  Why does He love me?  He gave me joy tonight and I fell on my face to worship Him.  I was on my face, and I didn't care who saw me.   I murdered Someone, Mama, and He loves me anyway.  He was innocent, and I'm...just a terrible person.  Terrible!  Selfish!  I let my soul fall asleep, Mama, and I didn't care about Him.  I've been trying to give people advice about God, and who am I?  I'm disgusting!   I put Jesus on the cross!  How can He love me like that?  He just smiles down on me and says, "That's my kid.  I love that kid.", and oh, it just kills me.  How does He do that?  He knew my name while He was hanging there, and oh, Mama, He died for my name!  And I read my Bible everyday with such dread.  I've been telling myself that that's just for hard core Christians, but, oh, Mama, it's His book for us.  He wrote that book for me so I could live like his kid, and I'm such a stupid jerk that I think nothing of it.  Just ignore it.  Oh!  I let my soul fall asleep, and He gives me joy and tells me that I'm His kid and that He loves me, and, Mama, I can't stand it!  It's an agonizing love, and I want to be different, and I want to live so the whole world knows that I am His and His alone."  

I reach my hand to his.  Hold tight.  Cry too because I know.  I know.  And I wonder why God loves me, and how He can love me, and why He gives me the honor of being here tonight with this son who keeps calling me "Mama" when I've been such a jerk all day.  Selfish.  Paranoid.  Jealous.  Full of pride and self pity.  Crumpling all the strength of my Shoulders with my words.  


"I put a Man on the cross!  I put a Man on the cross!"  


Bernadette

A Breath

The smallest space.
A moment.
Rush to the floor.
To Your feet.
Rest my head on Your knee.
Tell You I love You.
That I'm grateful.
That I am Your daughter.
That You are my Papa.
That I can be loved like this.
Known.
Like this.
Yes!  I am!
A woman.
In love.
With God.
Sigh.
Eyes closed.
Smiling out into...nothingness???

Breathing,

Bernadette

More of YES

To begin the thing.
Precious lady.
Just yesterday listened to it all...
And when did I start believing the lie that it's not okay to need encouragement from friends?
You all have been so amazing.
When I feel small like this.
Terrified.
It came to me as we were talking, that I want my epitaph to read:
SHE OBEYED.
I've not put pen to paper, but my tongue is being loosed.
Little by little.
That dangerous, vile weapon.
How in all the world can God use it for love?
Praying.  Praying.  Praying.
Just sending this little love note to you precious souls.
Who read these lines.
And wonder too...
What is Jesus up to now???

Bernadette