04.14.2012. Pasxa

the words made me angry
because they sunk in too late
because i hadnt pushed through the pc exterior for the desire beneath
because a hard shell like that so easily deflects my attempts to bring you in closer
a real Russian church, she said
to feel something on Easter
but, what is real?
it only sunk in later that her words dismissed my church as real
i know she meant the building
the cupolas, the candles, the icons, and the women in scarves
but she wants something different
she doesnt know where to find it
and she thinks going to a museum hall on a religious day will show her
but what about the life?
what about the breath and joy and laughter and family?
those are found in a room in a hotel conference room, where there aren't enough chairs
smiles and tears and loud crowd-joining prayers and singing and hands lifted high
its what she wants, what she doesnt know is missing
but she's looking for that in a building, a museum, a day on the Calendar
why? why didnt i hear that all in those words she spoke,
the ones that sunk in late and furrowed my brow
how? how do i recover from the way i accepted the dismissal of my church as real?
the words made me angry
not because of the ignorance that spoke them
but because of all that was lost in between them

Hesed, Hephzibah... Hesed.

Thank you Erin Beaver.

Thank you Rachel Whitacre.

Thank you Lauren Solomon.

Thank you Kathy Rabon.

for reminding me of Jesus.  for telling me to go for something that doesn't make sense... except that it doesn't make sense.  for telling me to talk to Jesus.  for speaking truth to me.  for listening.  for pointing out and articulating things that are baffling me right now.  for surrendering to Jesus.  for reminding me of vision.  for pushing me to follow the path I'm on... the very beaten, very less-traveled one.  for reminding me that crazy is relative, and that if I'm looking crazy to most people, I may just be in the right place.  for reminding me of Crazy Love.

And he said, Hesed, Hephzibah, remember my Hesed.