Sunday June 19, 2011
tonight
i sat on your front porch with the peeling blue paint.
i walked through your new old house, able to appreciate beautiful moldings and fine antique furniture and the incredible amount of work you’ve accomplished already. the house that was just waiting for your love although it makes us sad that you had to leave the other one.
i felt so happy to see you were up and around. we were worried when you didn’t return our call and we can’t just pop in anymore now that you’ve moved. we miss you.
so we sat there
sipping your coffee
mesmerized by the stories of your life
a life riddled with rejection, anger, guns, falls, being cheated, fear, illness, being ripped off over and over again by the people who should have loved you most, accidents with chain saws and things far more dangerous
a life that has experienced levels of pain so deep they make my worst experiences look like cat scratches
i see the glint in your eyes
the tension in your muscles
i hear the intensity in your voice as you retell the stories and i sense that you are only touching the tip of the iceberg because you are protecting our boys … and maybe us.
i watch you alternate back and forth between the inhaler to open your airways and the nicotine that closes them as it numbs the pain
i see the fighter in you
the fighter who longs for something better
for love
for a fair chance
we drive off as night falls
watching for more trains
talking to the boys
the headlights illuminate the tall purple salvia and pink vincas as we drive up to our house
i crawl out of the car
suddenly startled by the contrast that is my life
i stand still
reveling in the stillness of the country
a freshly mown lawn
a thousand fireflies dancing in the woods
the feeling of safety
the happiness that is our family.
he grew up rich
i grew up eating macaroni and cheese
why is he there
and i am here?
tonight i feel small.
and once again,
i will go to bed praying for our neighbor who isn’t really our neighbor anymore
that someday he will see Jesus as more than the man up above
that he will know what it means to be loved
but i will pray that for me, too
because he makes me see the too much me in me.
When you write… I feel. I think you get that a lot, so I will tell you what I took from this. I also think that the most unlikely people unexpectedly teach me the most about myself… my walk… Your story inspired me.
@MartinTreehouse – Oh, Meg, thank you!!! I think you understand how much that means. Although our language is different, yours paint and mine words, I think you really understand how much you want people to be able to interpret that language. And you so nailed it.
@smilesbymiles – Thank you back! I like the pictures you added to the post.
really beautiful post Michelle.
very touching! Wow. I am so blessed too! God bless you for reaching out to that guy…
have a good week!
It does make us stop and think:) God bless as you reach out to your ” neighbor”!! Love the new Theme:))
Wow. That was very beautiful.
You write so vividly…painting pictures with your words.
Happy Monday to you. =)
Haha….in between reading your post earlier and leaving a comment you changed your header!
It’s very cute. =)
That is so beautiful, and so touching…
And darling header! I spent some moments just drinking in each picture. 🙂
That was an extraordinary piece of writing. I like what Meg said about it. And I love the work God is doing in your heart and I love that you still go and visit your old neighbor man. I think of that phrase “You might be the only Bible another man ever reads.” What a challenge!
This is poetry. And more than that, too. Glad you let our eyes see your heart.