rattling around in my heart

it doesn’t feel like almost-winter

but some eternal springing fall

(i should be out walking)


maybe we’re already pregnant in our hearts

because we’ve been trying to work out the

hows and wheres of raising our hypothetical baby

we’re considering abandoning our lines of defense

and asking questions about

who is our village, who’ll raise her with us?

who are the stayers?

what will be standing when 80% of the delicate “us” has left and gone?

we sort of want to hunker down

will we be among the stayers,

the ones who pray and adopt our way into a New Village?

(but then there’s that one in MI with a million heart strings

and cheap property for sale and we wonder

should we join them?)


lately my heart is softer in my chest

i hug folks a little tighter, like i mean it

and great compassion floats to the surface when

i see L’s tears or hear of P’s trials

i think maybe i could love here afterall,

but they’re all go-ers (most gone by july)

it hurts a bit to keep that end in mind


if i want a baby is it for the wrong reasons?

what about africa? (we have to give an answer)


the other night we chatted with missionaries from Uganda

who’ve hunkered down and made it their home for years

i felt i could never be so pure and natural as they

and all the UW students (bright minds,

humanitarians, ready-to-goers)

who have plans for concrete expressions of care

in the form of water systems, soccer clubs, and agricultural groups

i felt like my own hands were so empty

(i doubted that i could go)


when we’re quiet in the prayer room at 9 pm

none of these questions seem so urgent

because we’re in the living room with a timeless Daddy


but then there’s small things

like that i want to bake muffins

and have d & d, c & j come to our door naturally

(maybe they’re the stayers!… surprise!)

i want to make a cookbook so lovely you’d cry

to see its bursting-with-live images and

intuitive anyone-can-do-it recipes

that’ll make you feel nourished and capable.

i want to finish decorating my walls,

record music with t (or hear him do it).

i want to learn sabbath at my core

i want to pray for my co-workers

and there doesn’t ever seem to be enough minutes


so i open, i open

i risk and i dream

and i don’t know who or what will come

and sometimes i want to go home


but most of all i want to be with Him, wherever He is

i really mean that, in my bones

(it’s not just pretty talk)

“to whom shall we go?! you have the words of life,”

one disciple said (john 6:68)

there is no where else


K read psalm 84 this morning

about the swallow who makes a nest for herself,

where she can raise her young… and that nest is

near the alter of the living God.

so i guess i can be a pilgrim so long as

i’ve got that nest with T and our babies

in the place where He dwells


pastor bill preached about the kingdom

and spoke about its belonging to the least

and those who care about them

(at which point he looked at us,

because we are the pretty/young/wealthy ones

in a room of so many leasts,

a status i did not feel proud of because

i want the kingdom and

jesus is near to the poor)


that’s all for now


5 thoughts on “rattling around in my heart

  1. intense…wow….I feel like once you know…then you will know. that doesnt sound like it makes sense…but I think thats what i need to type.

  2. YES!! to babies, cookbooks, the least of these, and Africa! There is a time to every season under heaven!
    I loved catching this insight into your hearts and life! 🙂 God bless! And you can bet I am praying for you!!
    LOVE, LOVE, LOVE! And thanks for sharing!!!

  3. I’m finally catching up w/you, from Zambia no less…internet is an amazing thing. I haven’t forgotten that I wanted to share a bit of OUR pilgrimage w/you–it will come. Just to say now that I believe God puts the desires in our hearts, the bents toward babies and baking and certain people and countries, and while we’re struggling to see how WILL this ever all work out, he’s grinning because he’s got plans up his sleeve. He’s the author and the finisher, and I’m preaching to myself now because he has us currently in a state of daily dependency on him for the smallest things–not entirely a bad place to be. Looking forward to reading the next chapter of your story…it’s a journey of trust, isn’t it?

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