Careworn Little Heart

"The Ragamuffin Gospel....is not for the super spiritual....is not for the fearless or the tearless....

The Ragamuffin Gospel was written for the bedraggled, beat up and burnt-out.....it is for the sorely burdened who are still shifting the heavy suitcase from one hand to another....it is for the poor, weak, sinful men and women with hereditary faults and limited talents...."

I took little parts of the forward of Brennan Manning's book, wrote them out, and put them on my desk.  For moments like this.  Right here, right now when the words would feel profound for my careworn little heart.  

Fine Tuned Old Soul Things

Spring always surprises me, probably because I love it so much, and it is so fleeting.  It's short and intense at school, but at home, it is slow and still.  It draws me back to favorite things of life (and ever the introspection) like November does. But I'm busier now, and so today when I woke up, everything was weird, weird weird.  Seasons are changing again, and I'm a fine tuned person.  (If I have learned anything personal in my 20s with more clarity, it is this.)  But maybe spring feels different this year, or still unconnected to me despite the fact that it is April, because I have moved. 

Vaporous

It is the kind of day where I am running on fumes.  My comrade in teaching just let me dig through her drawer for tea or coffee or something, and when I found instant coffee (very bold, definitely old) from Starbucks, I felt like I hit the jackpot.  I poured hot water into this cup and the whole classroom filled up with the promising aroma of coffee. 

I imagined the steam swirling all around (like I'm Pocahontas in a Disney movie) and I could breathe and pray again.  And then I went to the computer and heard the clickety clack of the letters on the keyboard as I typed, and I didn't feel so rattled anymore.   

So now the confessions emerge. 

Holy. Set Apart. Good.

(Put a bird on it!)

Yesterday at school, I started thinking about 'Joy to the World'. 

Uncommon thinking for life so late in March, I know, but there it was. A lingering thought about how much I love the song.  This year at Christmas I loved it especially, and it was because I mostly heard it Sufjan style.  Sufjan Stevens makes me think of my cousins, somehow always cooler, older, more advanced in the world than me.  Somehow always still watching out for me too.  When I was little they would tease.  I fell for everything, every time.  When I got older, they were my friends.  Of all the people in the world, these are some of my favorites.