Hope Floats
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Our conversation is a full-circle balloon,
buoyant and bobbing with ease. . .
until I feel that familiar prick:
ENVY
the joy is leaking,
no longer can I hear your heart,
because I'm holding my own
trying to patch the unexpected
hole
but for the next painful
poke
and the next
and the next
and the next. . .
I'm always one finger too short,
focused on my own inevitable
deflating
sadness.
"Keep your eyes open and guard against every sort of covetousness, because even when a person has an abundance his LIFE does not result from the things he possesses." Luke 12:15
I leaned today that the word used for "life" in Luke's Gospel (Greek, zo-e) refers not to a manner or style of living but to life itself. I'll admit I'm guilty of mixing up the two, viewing a certain way of life as "living." I can fall into the trap of thinking that money to vacation or visit the State Fair; or materials to do a little scrapbooking, knitting, or some other hobby; or the means to a second car so that I can "go" places beyone my own neighborhood will help me feel more alive, adventurous, happy. But pursuing only a manner of living inhibits my ability to experience the abundant, full life of God.
Thinking about this, and what it truly means to live, I flipped on the radio while fixing my kids lunch. A rockin' Newsboys song came on. I cranked the volume and feigned a silly disco pose. Ryker jumped up from his peanut butter sandwich and reached for my hands, giggling. We tangoed up and down the hallway, sock-hopped through the living room. "Let me spin you Mommy, let me spin you," he laughed. We got tangled up in some off-kilter ballroom twirls. Then 3-year old Sean jumped down from his booster. I wiped off his sticky jelly fingers before swinging him into my arms for some more hopping, twisting, galloping fun. He bounced and squealed, "Look at me Ryker! Look at me! I'm dancing!"
My soul smiled. And my spirit agreed: Yes, life is not determined by those things for which we can pay or possess.
Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are ... Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in my pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return. --Mary Jean Iron
buoyant and bobbing with ease. . .
until I feel that familiar prick:
ENVY
the joy is leaking,
no longer can I hear your heart,
because I'm holding my own
trying to patch the unexpected
hole
but for the next painful
poke
and the next
and the next
and the next. . .
I'm always one finger too short,
focused on my own inevitable
deflating
sadness.
"Keep your eyes open and guard against every sort of covetousness, because even when a person has an abundance his LIFE does not result from the things he possesses." Luke 12:15
I leaned today that the word used for "life" in Luke's Gospel (Greek, zo-e) refers not to a manner or style of living but to life itself. I'll admit I'm guilty of mixing up the two, viewing a certain way of life as "living." I can fall into the trap of thinking that money to vacation or visit the State Fair; or materials to do a little scrapbooking, knitting, or some other hobby; or the means to a second car so that I can "go" places beyone my own neighborhood will help me feel more alive, adventurous, happy. But pursuing only a manner of living inhibits my ability to experience the abundant, full life of God.
Thinking about this, and what it truly means to live, I flipped on the radio while fixing my kids lunch. A rockin' Newsboys song came on. I cranked the volume and feigned a silly disco pose. Ryker jumped up from his peanut butter sandwich and reached for my hands, giggling. We tangoed up and down the hallway, sock-hopped through the living room. "Let me spin you Mommy, let me spin you," he laughed. We got tangled up in some off-kilter ballroom twirls. Then 3-year old Sean jumped down from his booster. I wiped off his sticky jelly fingers before swinging him into my arms for some more hopping, twisting, galloping fun. He bounced and squealed, "Look at me Ryker! Look at me! I'm dancing!"
My soul smiled. And my spirit agreed: Yes, life is not determined by those things for which we can pay or possess.
Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are ... Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in my pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return. --Mary Jean Iron
