We walked long today, past the maple trees and the home of the organic co-op manager, past the big green barn and little old men mowing their lawns. We did much, pulling the small weeds and chopping the lettuce, furrowing brows over scrabble tiles and shaking the dust out of rugs. We wore the internal on the external and we were so happy all day.

Talking about dynamics and correction, the Holy Spirit and where to plant the raspberry bushes. We are happy to be. There is angst and worry and joy and contentment, and, like she said, we see the cleaned-up side of one another--but that's not all.

Because last night I sat Indian style on my bedroom floor while she knelt like a child on my bed and scolded and encouraged me to tears. I folded cardigans, boxing them for an upcoming move, and unfolded my fears about so many things. The truth is that the cleaned-up side that we see, that we show, is actually the abundance of the heart--whether it feels like it or not.

The truth is that she asked me what to pray for and I replied "Just to trust" and she answered that I already have that. Not because I do, but because in her heart she thinks I do. And, really, to have someone think that about me is all I need sometimes.

So this afternoon while I am at the piano, she walks into the room, and says "You really are very good, but here's something you can do to make it better." And I trust her, she's Albany Symphony Orchestra alumnae. And tonight when I declare "I Will Write," and imply "if it's the last thing I do" she stands in the doorway and says, "You know what I wish you would write more of? Descriptive things, show me something beside your inner workings." And the best part is that no matter how many, many times I fail or come short, she always sees past what is for what can be.

Like He does.

Just to know that someone sees my messy practicing side and still thinks the best of it. That, like a friend said once to me, regardless of the erosion that feels like is taking place throughout my being, people still see calm and consistent and worship and love that is taking place within my heart. That even when I can't see past today's portion, which is almost laughable in its predicament, His word doesn't fail.

And nothing can improve that.

(This is my Mama-Nan and me. And a hoe.
And she will hate me that she's wearing overalls in this photo.
She's usually very classy. And very believey [sic] in me and Jesus.)

May 2008