There are two men, friends of the literary kind and with the Jesus chord that binds. They write amazing letters to one another in the familiar territory of life and love and bewildering sagas of pain and grey days. I met one of these guys last year at a church where he was talking. He stands way taller than my husband and I put together. He reminds me of the earth and the sky and he is a throwback to something I hunger for in my spiritual soul. A poet of a man with a beautiful wife (he writes often so I believe him on that) and kidd’s that hold him hostage in the chains of DNA tethering that I have never been blessed to know. He has a blog called the beautiful due. I eagerly await his thoughts on paper in my inbox. He wrote something so beautiful today that he inspired me to write this.
Winn is his friend. A fine fellow of thoughts and words, he is a Pastor. The questions keep coming from his side of the camp. I love that about him, because I am a why person myself. A weary why person actually. It’s always good to know about others who wear themselves out with the questions. I have a house in my head that is called “the home for the bewildered.” Lately it might need to be renamed “the home for the worn.” Some days I am so worn I can feel hopeless. I hear the thoughts in my brain whining like a broken part in an engine. “This is so hard!” the voice whines “Why is everything so hard?” The thoughts drag me down. Dark down in the muck of humanity and Donald Trump down. I hear the thunder rolling across the mountain as I am writing this, a grey dreary day. Colder than May needs to be I watch the flowers try to stand up against it all. Someday’s even the hardiest of us wilt with disappointments. My two most beloved men are sick and I have been shouldering the fear, as I cook and clean and pass out medicine and take vital signs to mark in the book. I am like the flowers in the elements of change. Trying hard to stand up against it all. The letter written by the beautiful due gave me courage today. It brought the dark thoughts into a light to be reexamined and tucked away. It reminded me of “this is a good country filled with heroes on every block.” That really, truly lifted my heart.
Thanks John for the reminder, thanks Winn and John for the open hearts of two strong men of faith, both with a little Eyor thrown in. I feel right at home in your pen and ink world of sharing and I am grateful.