sparrow maps

sometimes life becomes about the push and the shove. it's impossible to avoid, as much as i wish as i could burrow down into the silence and inhale the sweetness of rest into my lungs. but instead, there's smog in the air, and it's heavy and there's traffic here and there and everywhere. 

and sometimes i feel upside down and i've forgotten how to straighten myself out. and that expression "pulling my hair out" becomes reality as the brush rakes that little bit too rough in the effort of working the knots out of my soul from where the footprints left their marks. 

looking around, i realize that i've been tying knots in other souls too. because i can't always keep my mouth shut, and i leave crater-holes where i've ripped love out by the roots and left gaping bleeding patches in my wake. and the ones i love hold hands to their hearts to keep what little i left behind, because i'm brutal in myself. 

you are a box with fragile written on it, 

and so many people have not handled you with care. 

and for the first time, I understand that I will never know 

how to apologize for being one of them. 

:: Shinji Moon

we all have the books, the pages worn around the edges from the turn and turn and turn and the press of the ink against every line. we have scrawled our lives there in our own secret language made of whispers and moments. we have a map tattooed in invisible ink on our palms and sometimes we just run out of compass points to decypher. it's hard work to walk alone, after all.

{via pinterest}

i think that's why we raise our hands so often in that moment of emptiness. He already knows the road, but it's okay to remind Him where we are, because He likes to be asked. and my palms are bleeding from the twisting and the wringing and the clawing. and so my hands go up with a soft sob of oh Abba, i don't know anymore.

and that's when the drums of brave start to their thudding, their sweet heart-beating glory finding the cadeance of love and light and forgiveness. and i'm going to hum so sweetly of sparrows under my breath, because if He sees them, He sees me. 

it takes an ocean not to break

hums birdy

and she's right. 

but for me, i'm resting on the hands of the One who soothed the waves to glass-calm and dove into the depths of fire to remind me that i am worth more than the scars on my arms would lead me to believe. i am seen by the One-Who-Sees, and i've said it a thousand times, but one more time is needed, i think. 

i sing because i'm happy

i sing because i'm free

His eye is on the sparrow

and i know He watches me.