wondering

oh, i have forgotten about you, writing.

but i realize i need you so.

something deeper inside my heart.

to see my thoughts and heart splayed out on a page.

mm,

my own way of existing.

i want to go back,

and never forget 

what it's like to be a child.

i hope i always stay, on this spiral.

this spiral that first started

from the day i was born.

and to know, Lord, that you have created it,

you started it.

you started me and put me into being.

even before that first day of my existence.

to not forget it, when in a blank room

that doesn't say much about your reality.

what makes you real, Father?

i'd like to know.

is it this, the feelings that my heart feels on any day?

the stars outside in the night sky?

the hopelessness and frailty of human beings, and yet, promise?

the sheets of my Bible?

jesus' words 2,000 years ago?

the church?

the place where you died for us?

the many believers who have come and gone, leaving their stories of worship behind?

what says,

that you are the Voice

that whispers behind all voices.

You say so.

how does that feeling and certainty come upon one?

oh Lord.

im asking, to prove to me that

your voice is the one.

but all i really want,

is to to just hear your voice,

hear it and that is all.

because i already believe it's the one inside.

how typical.

we shake our fist,

claiming we can't be sure 

whether you're who you say you are.

we put you on trial,

we pile up our doubts.

only sure of our own existence now.

-when we're just angry

you went away.

and wish you would

come back again.

and then, one step before,

one step beyond,

we are angry you went away

until we realize

it was us who moved away.

so that we can't see you anymore.

and now we're lost,

sad and mad.

but 

it is sweet

realizing through the pain,

pain of separation,

that our center of gravity

could only, only ever be you.

mm.

thanks, Father.

was that built in

to the spiral?

this thread connecting me to you.

i am glad for this,

that i can feel the pain of separation.

that means you are still,

so

central to me.

may it always be so.

love,

esther

for me

today's utmost for his highest

The Ministry of the Inner Life
June 21 2010
You are . . . a royal priesthood . . . —1 Peter 2:9

By what right have we become “a royal priesthood”?  It is by the right of the atonement by the Cross of Christ that this has been accomplished. Are we prepared to purposely disregard ourselves and to launch out into the priestly work of prayer?  The continual inner-searching we do in an effort to see if we are what we ought to be generates a self-centered, sickly type of Christianity, not the vigorous and simple life of a child of God.  Until we get into this right and proper relationship with God, it is simply a case of our “hanging on by the skin of our teeth,” although we say, “What a wonderful victory I have!”  Yet there is nothing at all in that which indicates the miracle of redemption.  Launch out in reckless, unrestrained belief that the redemption is complete.  Then don’t worry anymore about yourself, but begin to do as Jesus Christ has said, in essence, “Pray for the friend who comes to you at midnight, pray for the saints of God, and pray for all men.”  Pray with the realization that you are perfect only in Christ Jesus, not on the basis of this argument: “Oh, Lord, I have done my best; please hear me now.”

How long is it going to take God to free us from the unhealthy habit of thinking only about ourselves? We must get to the point of being sick to death of ourselves, until there is no longer any surprise at anything God might tell us about ourselves.  We cannot reach and understand the depths of our own meagerness.  There is only one place where we are right with God, and that is in Christ Jesus.  Once we are there, we have to pour out our lives for all we are worth in this ministry of the inner life.

an opening

so much beauty in this world
a field of poppies and a good song
a picture of a field of poppies and a good song

is enough
to bring the joy into my heart,

the love grows.

presence

i don't know how quite to describe it-

last year, one day during the summer, i went to urban outfitters to get something. or at least i think i did, because i remember a bag in my hand and walking from elm and york street. it was a beautiful day outside, breezy and cool, with the sun shining down . i felt its heat upon my body. and i started smiling, and laughing, inexplicably. the beauty of the day seized me, my heart, and all i could do was rejoice. i walked, then, from that corner to my home on chapel and high, and it was as though i were in a spot of sun i could not get out of. and while i was in it, i felt my heart lifting, felt myself in absolute peace and freedom. and i loved.

the way in which that moment comes back to me now and then, the way in which it seems pure and set apart from everything else i have experienced, makes me feel it was the presence of the Lord.

the holy spirit, to me

i wish to be alive, in the best of ways

early in the morning

i didn't know this before, but i just realized,

i always loved waking up to a saturday morning at yale.
in that time between unconsciousness and slowly waking,
there was a half-formed thought, a feeling of what could fill the day-
brunch late in the morning, with afternoon light; coffee or ice cream with a friend; a walk under autumn trees; someone to study with and spend slow hours in lc or the library with; procrastination; an event to go to at night.
people i wanted to see and it made me happy being near.
that made me content, even as i lay in bed and adjusted my eyes to the morning coming in through the window.
like a feeling of sun slowly coming into my body, growing warmer.

the hours stretched long before me, but they were promising.
mine to spend the way i wanted to.

senses that my mind, body are alive, stirring, even before i wake.

i like it.

more and more

steps are taking me away from the past-

its hard, because sometimes,
some parts
i don't want to leave.