[dealing]

I think I'm dealing with anger here,
letting it fuse and diffuse.
Under anger sits sadness,
loneliness and rejection,
longing for safety,
for connecting and knowing.

Why did you think you needed to provoke me,
take a risk of hurting?
Or was that what you wanted,
to hurt, to make me feel
your pain,
to see your side of the story,
to feel your fear,
to confess not being trustworthy?
What do you want from me?

Don't worry, I already felt the guilt,
I can relate to the role of wrongdoer,
identify with shame.
I'm not looking for you to comfort,
or to rescue or to deny yourself.

Sometimes I'm not sure if you see,
what provoking,
probing and poking,
causes underneath the skin.
I still bruise easily,
and I know, I know that
you mean well,

and it's important that you,
keep your ways and
keep you and
keep your boundaries.
But sometimes, it still hurts.

Arms wide open,
I stop defending,
look up,
trust.

[hengitä hiljaa]

The dismissive nature of pain

quite eloquent

like a squirrel forgetting
the hiding places of it's treasures,

purposefully countering brokenness

So I need you to hold me,

Reminding, i don't disappear

Darkness cannot eat me alive

It's been defeated so I won't be

And there I can open the wells

Let the waves come crashing in

Such deathly sorrow

Sea bearing in it's arms,

the caps of the waves carrying
all nutrients,

treasures from the unsearched shores

soothing cure, smelling pure

Search me and know me,

Bring healing within

Inside out

Spring cleaning

Receiving 

and entering,

in

[breeze]

maybe it's the brightness of sunshine,
leaving me feeling so incredibly fragile/
craving to cocoon,
not fully trusting these wings

beauty that attracts predators
will you be my unfailing walls of defense
yes, create around me layer of your life,
breath, trusting, home,
for the name on your hands engraved.

[scandals of grace]

chosen to be your chosen,
strength that sparks
to change/
to not give up,
you make me feel loved/

when skin beaten and bruised
is touched,
it still remembers/
shivers and hides –
your touch heals,
we are walking through pain/

sadness released, brings relief,
new growth/
tears baptizing life of
new beginning
new foundations,
commitment,
new covenant.

[was|is|tobE]

[for6months]

Come with me from Lebanon, my bride.
    Leave Lebanon behind, and come.
Leave your high mountain hideaway.
    Abandon your wilderness seclusion,
Where you keep company with lions
    and panthers guard your safety.
You’ve captured my heart, dear friend.
    You looked at me, and I fell in love.
    One look my way and I was hopelessly in love!
How beautiful your love, dear, dear friend—
    far more pleasing than a fine, rare wine,
    your fragrance more exotic than select spices.
The kisses of your lips are honey, my love,
    every syllable you speak a delicacy to savor.
Your clothes smell like the wild outdoors,
    the ozone scent of high mountains.
Dear lover and friend, you’re a secret garden,
    a private and pure fountain.
Body and soul, you are paradise,
    a whole orchard of succulent fruits—
Ripe apricots and peaches,
    oranges and pears;
Nut trees and cinnamon,
    and all scented woods;
Mint and lavender,
    and all herbs aromatic;
A garden fountain, sparkling and splashing,
    fed by spring waters from the Lebanon mountains.

The Message (MSG)

Copyright © 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson

[Who is woman?]

Part I: In the Beginning...

Genesis 2:22-25

The Message (MSG)

^21-22 God put the Man into a deep sleep. As he slept he removed one of his ribs and replaced it with flesh. God then used the rib that he had taken from the Man to make Woman and presented her to the Man.

^23-25     The Man said,
“Finally! Bone of my bone,
    flesh of my flesh!
Name her Woman
    for she was made from Man.”
    Therefore a man leaves his father and mother and embraces his wife. They become one flesh.
    The two of them, the Man and his Wife, were naked, but they felt no shame.

Genesis 3:1-16

The Message (MSG)

3 The serpent was clever, more clever than any wild animal God had made. He spoke to the Woman: “Do I understand that God told you not to eat from any tree in the garden?”

^2-3 The Woman said to the serpent, “Not at all. We can eat from the trees in the garden. It’s only about the tree in the middle of the garden that God said, ‘Don’t eat from it; don’t even touch it or you’ll die.’”
^4-5 The serpent told the Woman, “You won’t die. God knows that the moment you eat from that tree, you’ll see what’s really going on. You’ll be just like God, knowing everything, ranging all the way from good to evil.”
⁶ When the Woman saw that the tree looked like good eating and realized what she would get out of it—she’d know everything!—she took and ate the fruit and then gave some to her husband, and he ate.
⁷ Immediately the two of them did “see what’s really going on”—saw themselves naked! They sewed fig leaves together as makeshift clothes for themselves.
⁸ When they heard the sound of God strolling in the garden in the evening breeze, the Man and his Wife hid in the trees of the garden, hid from God.
⁹ God called to the Man: “Where are you?”
¹⁰ He said, “I heard you in the garden and I was afraid because I was naked. And I hid.”
¹¹ God said, “Who told you you were naked? Did you eat from that tree I told you not to eat from?”
¹² The Man said, “The Woman you gave me as a companion, she gave me fruit from the tree, and, yes, I ate it.”
God said to the Woman, “What is this that you’ve done?”
¹³ “The serpent seduced me,” she said, “and I ate.”

^14-15 God told the serpent:

“Because you’ve done this, you’re cursed,
    cursed beyond all cattle and wild animals,
Cursed to slink on your belly
    and eat dirt all your life.
I’m declaring war between you and the Woman,
    between your offspring and hers.
He’ll wound your head,
    you’ll wound his heel.”

¹⁶ He told the Woman:

“I’ll multiply your pains in childbirth;
    you’ll give birth to your babies in pain.
You’ll want to please your husband,
    but he’ll lord it over you.”

Copyright © 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson