all the time god is trying to make us do our duty as obscure people. ~ o. chambers
sometimes i enjoy carrying the weight of my small world on my own shoulders. i’m wholly unfit for the task, but that doesn’t seem to bother me. i snap at small children and forget my face can smile. i have important business to do. i have to keep this small globe spinning.
i’ve woken up to the sound of a child retching for the past two mornings. the dishwasher is broken and no one fed the gecko while i was away.
problems to be fixed. problems to be solved.
i spent a week away with words, but sometimes i wonder if every sentence i’ve ever written is little more than a cry against obscurity. the whole weight of god’s kingdom would crush my self-reliance until every word from my pen says this:
“i have nothing of value to offer except him.”
it may be that the pressing of obscurity holds within it true peace. could i embrace being of no consequence to this world? this world that molds and shapes young people to pick up microphones and sing out their souls for a panel of judges. can i stop waiting in the wings for a shot at one of the so easily earned standing ovations of our age?
i make a fort. i put on another pot of coffee. i read the gospels. i make dinner and hold a feverish girl. all this talk of obscurity is good for the soul. it’s good for my one soul that is no match for the one who stands able to bear the weight of my world, famous in every age, long after i’m gone.
gratitude list ~ one thousand gifts ~ 1436 – 1459
bottles of wine
picking up garbage
agents saying no
coming home to a garden
john over too early
losing my eyebrows
writing seven hours a day
neighbors making fun
find our own voice
one agent saying maybe
one last fire
reading our stories
“i like the way you talk”