Stolen Inspiration

My friend Jennifer writes in this really raw, honest, and beautiful way. I was inspired, so I stole her style. Just for today:

When she walks, she fancies herself a philosopher. Insight provokes her, and succinct, weighty thoughts accost her. She promises herself she will write them out when she gets home, but the thoughts flee. They fly through the grove at the threat of embodiment.

When she is at works she chases the inspiration that seeks her outdoors. It’s hiding, and she sits, blinking at her computer screen. Waiting. Nothing. Sigh. Blink.

When she reads, she sees poetry in the words, and she pledges to return to the pages later to copy them and  herald their beauty and charm.

When she sees beauty or meets insight, her eyes light up, and she clings to the moment and wishes for the moment to last, wishes that was her occupation. She closes her eyes and savors the fleeting taste.

When she is outside, alone, she feels free and simple. She feels close to God and content. She talks to Him. He’s there, and sometimes He talks back. Mostly He just listens.

When she reads that Book, singing that Song, He reminds her that He is with her in the woods and in her solitude.

When she is on her knees, eyes closed, head bowed, He reminds he that He is with her at work.

When she stops walking, stops working, stops chasing, she looks up and her spirit calls out to Him. He hears her and comes. He chases away fancies, whims, and anxious thoughts, and He calms her, reminds her she is His, she is safe.

The light dances in the woods above her face. The buzzing fluorescent fixture languishes on the grey fabric walls. He is there, and she can breathe.

  1. #1 by swoon on September 20, 2009 - 10:44 am

    dear mike and laura
    we have one particularity in common, we love God and write about that in our blogs

    I was looking for photos of prairie grasses to finish my painting and found your webpage

    best of wishes to you and all you hold dear


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