Cocooning

A nudging from the Holy Ghost--a whisper from the Divine--is easy to miss. Or in my case, dismiss. Just before the move to our new house, I felt God speaking to me through the passages in Matthew about new and old wineskins. I sensed him saying, "Cheri, I'm going to answer your prayers, and smooth the way for you in regards to external circumstances. But, now we embark on the more difficult journey of changing you."

Change is hard. And I really hoped I had heard God wrong. But as Rich and I continue to settle into our new house, receive and celebrate blessings, we are also experiencing major upheaval in our patterns of parenting, in our understanding of ourselves, and our marriage relationship. It is simultaneous hard work and great joy.

We are delighted and surprised by renewal that can only come from God. After enduring such a dry season, dappled with bouts of depression, I am literally swimming in JOY. And together, we are doing our best to make room for New Wine in our lives.

As a result of the changes we're experiencing, we have also started attending a new church. We are grieving the loss of a church family that saw us through some of the most difficult "lows" of our life. But, again, we listen for Whispers to tell us which way to go. And we sense we are being led to a fresh well to deal with some of our new thirsts.

The first week in our new church home, we listened to a guest musician by the name of Staci Frenes. (She is friends with singer/songwriter Carol Zimmerman--one of my favorite artists who has partnered with me on a couple of speaking gigs.) Anyway, Staci was there with her new C.D. Meteor Shower. Her song "Making Room" gripped Rich to the core. He bought it. And after playing it over and over and over again, I'm struck by how the lyrics describe our lives on so many levels. We are literally going about the business of settling into a new home, "creating a new space" to live in, and yet something of the same is happening on emotional and spiritual planes too.

It makes me realize that God's love seizes and savors every opportunity to move us toward wholeness / holiness.

Making Room

clearing out the cobwebs
sorting through the dusty boxes
removing all the clutter from inside these halls
opening the locked rooms
making way for you to walk through
quieting the chaos crashing through these walls
a few things can remain
but most if it's gotta go

i'm making room letting in the light
i'm making room for the wind to dance through
for the music for the laughter
for the breath of life to happen
its long overdue i'm making room for you.

frames of faded pictures
have hung around too long like fixtures
reminding me of who i was those vain empty years
time for saying good-bye
i got no place in my life
for those tired worn out useless souvenirs
a few things can remain
but most if it's gotta go

chorus

this all belongs to you
you're welcome here anytime
it's your home
I don't want to walk these halls alone
so i'm making room
for the beauty for the passion
for the soul that you've awakened
for the music for the laughter
for the breath of life to happen

Sally's recent reading of Song of Songs in response to my sensual poem "Midlife Miracle" [see posts immediately following] inspired me to do my own digging in that same part of Scripture. I remember studying Song of Songs in college, and I've revisited the book since then for various reasons. When Rich and I got married, one of our wedding songs, "Arise My Love," was derived from S of S. The lyrics (taken directly from the Bible) were as mesmerizing as nodding lillies in the morning sunshine. Beautiful, yes, but 16 years later I'm realizing how "religious folk" (including myself) can tend to chasten sexuality, removing all the steamy connatations!

Not this week! Reading the whole piece of literature in one sitting, poem post-partum, I was shocked. Jesus truly is the "Divine Lover of My Soul" (as Sally put it in her recent email.) I found myself jotting notes in a journal, scribbling images that enrapture my heart with fresh meaning, fresh Love. I also sensed God's "YES" to my own boldly stated, but humble poem, and it was all the affirmation I could ever need!

Here are some of my favorite passages from Song of Songs. Maybe they'll inspire you to grab the Good Book and read for yourself!

"Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth--for your love is more delightful than wine. "
How's that for an opening line, verse 1? There's no question where this book is headed, Scripture erotica!

"Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest is my lover among the young men. I delight to sit in his shade, and his fruit is sweet to my taste. He has taken me to the banquet hall , and his banner over me is love." (verse 1: 3, 4) How many times have I heard the popular "banquet" verse and dismembered it from it's true context?

"Listen! My lover! Look! Here he comes, leaping across the mountains, bounding over the hills. My lover is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look! There he stands behind our wall, gazing through the windows, peering through the lattice. My lover spoke and said to me, "Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, and come with me."

(The Beloved and the Lover trade voices throughout the book, and so in the following passages the Lover speaks:)

"Your graceful legs are like jewels, the work of a craftsman's hands. Your navel is a rounded goblet that never lacks blended wine. Your waise is a mound of wheat encircled by lilies. Your breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle." (7:2, 3)

"May your breasts be like the clusters of the vine, the fragrance of your breath like apples, and your mouth like the best wine."

And the Beloved says in response:
"May the wine go straight to my lover, flowing gently over lips and teeth." (7:8, 9)

And a possible climax, but this falls early in the book:

"My lover thrust his hand through the latch-opening; my heart began to pound for him. I arose to open for my lover, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with flowing myrrh, on the handles of the lock. I opened for my lover. . . " (5:4-6)

Okay, even as I type that passage, I'm struck by how R-rated it is! If you missed it (as it's easy to do when we overspiritualize things) go back and read again!

And how is it that I was embarrassed to put such sexy language into my own poem?

There's also a chorus of "friends" that chime in sporadically throughout the book, giving their communal blessing. One could almost imagine them at a banquet hall, clinking wine glasses in cheer:

"Eat, O friends, and drink; drink your fill, O lovers." (5:1)

I echo that!

After writing my latest poem, Midlife Miracle, I was flushed with excitement


The poem, for me, expresses recent soul-stirrings not easily articulated in simple straight-forward conversation. But I knew it was provocative, so I figured I better have my friend Sally "preview" it. Just as I was typing the final line into my blog, surprisingly, Sally called. When I told her I'd written another poem, she immediately pulled it up on the computer and started reading while we were still on the phone together.

"What?" she half screamed? "You're having sex with Jesus?"

I couldn't stop laughing. "It's a metaphor, Sal, a metaphor! I'm not really having sex with Jesus!"

She proceeded to tease. "I'm removing the link from my blog to yours. I'll never get another speaking gig again. Neither will you!"

"Good!" I said. "I don't want another speaking gig!" But something in me pulled back with embarrassment. I relented, "Well, I guess I need to tone this down somehow." Later in the conversation, I asked Sally to re-read my poem when she had time and send edits. She's a wonderful writer, poet, editor, and friend. I trust her feedback implicitly.

But before I heard back from her, I started tinkering. For the rest of the evening, the poem sat nestled in my heart as I pulled lines, changed words, and eventually got the text to a point where gone was the "zing."

I shared the changes with my husband, Rich, and he could hear the catch in my voice. "You're sad that you changed it, aren't you?"

"Oh well. . . I admitted. I don't want the whole world thinking the worst." (I know only a handful of you follow my blog--those who know and love me, thanks for that--but, somehow I could imagine THIS poem being read worldwide, with a giant megaphone!)

So, changes to the poem squared away (pun intended-ha!), this morning I received Sally's edits via email. My heart swelled with thankfulness for such a wise, midlife-sharing friend and her comments:


Cher!

I'm sad you changed your poem . . . removed 'sexy carpenter hands' and 'arching back' . . .

Before reading the edits I awoke with images from Song of Songs thinking how apropos that in middle age - when a woman is supposedly at her sexual peak - you are being 'touched' in new and wondrous ways by the Divine Lover of the Soul. I felt compelled to study S of S again (because of your poem) and search for ways the sexual metaphor would invigorate/refresh my own faith and life.

I hope my playful comments about the original poem didn't hurt your feelings. I hope my joking around didn't come off as nudgings to water down your words. Instead, my strong reaction was because the poem rocked me! Its impact was true and organic and real: sensate in the best of ways. It made me think and process and revealed new truth to me the way any good poem does! I encourage you to return to the more powerful language of the first draft.

I love your thoughts and poems; and feel blessed to share this Middle Life renewal with you, Cheri. Thanks be to God for your poetic processing, your midlife metaphors, your virescent (even virile ;) ) verse! May it continue to be bold and full bodied like good wine . . . like YOU!

Love,

Sal

A poem by Cheri




















I am a shifting mosaic
unsure
where all the pieces fit
sure
that some broken parts have been both lost and found

My gypsy soul wanders the wild wilderness
of Forty
circling back and around
daring to walk
bare
the sensuous feeling of mud between toes

a little thrilled
a little scared
of this beautiful, holy, mucky mess

"Help me stand. . . " or maybe I should pray, "Help me stumble"
to my knees
as I stagger from the drink of
New Wine