Heart surgery on Friday.
Summer is fleeting
and I survey my world,
reaching out to touch,
to linger,
to bless
like worn prayer beads,
all these things for which I am thankful.
I find myself brushing fingertips along our bumpy, imperfect walls,
savoring the unfinished-ness of them,
remembering that we are all unfinished stories,
sacred in our imperfections.
To feel the stained rim of a teacup,
a grooved picnic bench,
lichen on a tree
To soak up with my eyes
tissue-thin curlings of bark,
popsicle drips,
chalk.
It's a liturgy of thankfulness
in today.
in the dirt.
in the dark.
Last week, we stayed up late in a lightning storm.
Such power! Such beauty!
And yet they shivered under quilts.
It's hard to be small in the dark
while thunder shakes the house with monster growls.
Being brave is having faith, isn't it?
Faith that tomorrow will dawn
calm and bright.
Faith that Light will come out of the dark.
As it turns out, some hearts
have holes that need patching.
Some hole-y hearts cause strokes.
The patch surgery may help.
We can hope!
Friday morning is my thunderstorm.
Be brave. Be brave. Be brave. Be brave.
Thankful for heart patches.
for imperfections. for thunderstorms. for light. and hope. A brave book I hope you love as much as I do:
"The Girl With A Brave Heart" by Rita Jahanforuz, illustrated by Vali Mintzi.
