I Don't Ask For Much

I'm tired. I'm weary. My strength is waning.

It always happens in these moments. But there's something different about this time.

I have been patient, but lately it's been wearing thin. Thin enough that in the threadbare patches I've let my heart get the best of me.

I've seen through the illusions, through the past pains that have shrouded my vision and see what truly is, and in that my strength has returned, but, in this moment, even that struggles to fortify my spirit. Revelation leads to patience and peace, but at what point is it sink or swim?

And as I step back and evaluate where I am I realize - When I come to you with my hands out I don't ask for much.

I have not asked to be showered with fine sparkly adornments; I have not asked for the Red Sea to be parted. I don't demand that you do this or that nor promise you that if you do 'just this ONE thing for me' you shall earn my forever love and devotion.

I come with my hands out asking for greater than that. Things that no value of money could ever buy. Things that after searching out what brings you joy - what melts your heart - what rises up the passionate forces of your soul - those things become what I long for and I come with outstretched hands asking 'Please Sir, may I have sum'mor?'.

And even when I do come to you anymore, it is rarely for myself. I don't really ask much at all for me unless you've already said to me that you will give it to/do it for me. And even then, many times, I don't bother you often when it seems to be delayed. As persistent and stubborn as I am, I try to leave some things alone.

But, today, I'm tired. My heart growing exhausted at the highs of expectant joy and the lows of (silently, mildly) bitter disappointment. I don't ask for much in this area that is seemingly tarrying, but I'm asking now. Surely at some point I get to win. Surely at some point all the work I've put into others will be returned unto me. This cannot go on much longer like this, can it?

Too many more disappointments and delays may finally break me. Even though all strength in Heaven and Earth are mine for the taking I do have my human moments when I feel like I'm grasping in the dark for refreshment. This is one.

I know what you have promised, but in the toughest, albeit short, moments your silence causes more doubt than my own heart can create on its own. All I have are remembrances of what you have said to me and I have to trust in those alone.

If I could see it I wouldn't need faith, would I? I know what you have said over and over again, but could you say it just once more? That's all I need right now to get through these hours.

My frail humanity I loathe. I'm greater than this normally, so why is this so hard? Ease my heart, let me hear your voice with kind words of reassurance - tender melodies of healing strength that saturate my soul - a washing wave of peace greater than all words.

This is the only thing that will satisfy my fear, my hurt, my exhaustion, my frailty if I must continue on like this.

I don't ask for much, but could I have this now? Please?

©Kristen Garcia 1-23-2012

Lauderdale Roadside

Clouds and torrential rains swirl around me, blinding the way the road turns ahead of me.

An unfamiliar place, no place to run to safety, just forced to wait out the storm.

As the clouds move east the rains ease up I begin my journey again, the twists and turns of a country road laid out before me.

And then, to the west, a slice of light so powerful begins to dawn in the break of the clouds.

Its beauty and meaning strikes my soul so deep that it is all I can do to find a place to stop and just simply watch.

I lean against my car, watching the intensity of this dawning till I am nearly blinded and have to look away.

And there, on a deserted Lauderdale County Road - the Mississippi River just beyond the tree line - I realize that my soul has just been allowed a rare gift by God.

Like Simeon and Anna beholding the Christ Child as promised I know I have beheld the infancy of the power that shall one day shame the sun and drive us all to our knees.

©Kristen Garcia 1-2011