Thursday, October 27, 2011

UP

Little seeds, planted in the ground...
they come alive from their sleepy pods and begin to grow.
Up they go. Always up.
Growing up is what we do.

I am small. A little tree.
Sprung from an acorn no bigger than a thumb.
I get older and what do I do?
I grow. I grow to the sky.
Reaching ever upwards.
Growing Up.
Always, always growing UP.

Little children.
arms and hands and fingers reaching high
Up to the sky like I'm a tree
Branching toward heaven
I'm growing up
Up, up, up.
Can you see me growing?

I'm a mother
learning what it means to be mommy
Still growing ever inside.
Where do I grow?
How best to expand my thoughts, my desires,
my hopes and dreams?
Up.
Grow your dreams to the sky.
Grow them to the heavens above.
Look up, there you find the answer.
Growing up to see the Son.
Stretch your arms wide
your heart to the whole sky above.
From above comes your peace, your hopes, your LIFE.
Grow UP.

Fruit of the spirit
bloom in my life
cause me to grow
keep my eyes on what is above
and not what lies beneath
Help me learn what it means to grow up.
Up into what I've been created to be.
Up above all things mortal
above what is unclean
Up to the giver of life
rising above all things

We grow older
the end of our days here grows nearer
what awaits us?
We have grown to know where it is.
Up.
Heaven lies above our heads.
It is not so very far away.
Just another little jump.
Like the tiny seeds that fly from a pod
on fluff light as dandelion's down
rising to the heavens
growing ever
up.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

In Memory of Dee

Riding on thoughts today... head is filled with memories of a cousin who passed six years ago today.
He was a cowboy with every fiber of his being from hat to boots and everything in-between.
Dee was a rowdy one.
My mother remembered a little nephew who would rope a stuffed toy and wrestle with all his cousins til they had more than they could stand. Never still for very long. She told of how he'd gotten hold of a bottle of baby aspirin as a child and chewed up the whole bottle full... then as grandmother tried to rake the pills out of his mouth, he bit her finger. They had to give him some epicac syrup to get the aspirin back up. Poor fellow. He was a boisterous little handful when he was little.
I remember him as an older cousin of mine. He and his brother Bob were always doing something.
I don't recall him ever being inside too much... except for meal time.
Then he'd be back out on horseback, or in his pick-up, or running the greyhounds chasing rabbits, or doing one of a hundred jobs that the ranch needed done.
Always in motion.
His skin was forever tanned, his hands calloused and rough, and he wore jeans, boots, hat and a shirt usually covered with whatever he was working on that day.
He had sort of sleepy looking eyes, dark hair and thick black eyelashes to the envy of every girl.
Usually he was smoking with a cigarette casually hanging from his mouth.
It was all just part of who he was.
I recall a few times when he'd stay in the house with all the little cousins.
He played a few games of checkers with grandpa and maybe watch a little football on TV.
But mostly, he was outside.
I think Dee was most in his element there.
Under the wide Texas skies, wind in his hair, riding his horse chasing after a calf or steer with a rope in hand.
Highly skilled in roping. I remember as a kid when I used to go and visit my grandparents, he would be there and would rope me as I walked through the living room.
Never missed, much to my disappointment.
I sure miss him.
Odd how you miss a person a little more with each passing year.
Somehow I thought as time passed, it would lessen the missing, but it seems to have gone the opposite direction.
I remember the funeral as if it was only a month ago.
We drove to Silverton on Friday night and got there to see my daughter Kimberly playing in the band with a little group of college kids who came from Texas Tech in Lubbock to watch the Silverton Owls take on the Kress Kangaroos. The whole town was buzzing with the Goin' Band coming to their game.
At grandmother's house we saw cousins and relatives from everywhere.
My cousin Bob, Dee's brother, had not slept in days.
The two of them had always been buddies... never too far away from each other.
And now...
The two Sons of Thunder had been separated.
No more rodeos or riding together, or swimming or practicing roping... no more anything.
Dee was always quiet in a crowd, but put him on a horse, and he was poetry in motion.
He and Bob had been around horses and cattle all their lives.
Probably put in a saddle before they could walk.
I can't remember how many summers my sisters and I spent up there on that ranch just watching the two of them rope and ride.
How I loved them for all they could do.
I was some uncoordinated city kid just standing at the fence amazed.
But somehow, they loved me as the greenhorn I was.
I was hesitant to go back at first. I'd grown fat and older...
And yet as I walked into the room with all my relatives, I was overwhelmed by all the warm hugs and hearty hellos and a dozen people gathered around me waiting to catch up.
How foolish I was to forget the love there just waiting for me to walk in the door.
I didn't want to leave.
But finally it was very late, and I would not take a bed away from the family members who were more closely related to my cousin.
So we drove over to Plainview and stayed in a hotel.
We got up the next day and drove back to Silverton to be at the Baptist church at noon.
The church was full of Dee's relatives from both sides of the family. It was hard to tell who was family and who was not related, but one of his friends. All looked so close to the same. As natural as cousins on every side.
I saw my uncle Walter there, Dee's dad. He looked nearly untouched by time.
Maybe a little more silver in the hair he had left, maybe a couple more wrinkles, but the same smile and quiet gentlemanly manners I'd always known. A little older. A little more tired.
He wore an older, gray, western-cut suit which seemed to be almost a part of him.
Walter was born in the old house out there on the ranch. He said his mother died there. Said he guessed he's be there until he died too.
The service started and it was simple and beautiful.
There were flowers arranged with Dee's saddle and horse blanket and a lariat on top of the casket.
Seemed to be sleeping there among us, thick eyelashes closed forever in rest.
His har was still dark as a raven, but bits of it had lightened due to all the years under the sun.
His resemblence to Walter was striking. Older. More aged.
His typical black cowboy hat was on top of his hands.
At the bottom of the casket were his boots surrounded by more flowers.
Beside him sort of sticking up at an angle from the side was his fishing pole with flowers and vines all twined around it.
It was beautiful, but seemed out of place to see him lying there so still and quiet.
The service began with one fellow doing the eulogy.
It was pretty good, but he was kind of new and nervous.
A second fellow came up after the first, and he seemed to know everyone better.
He talked about Dee's life with his mom and dad and his brother and sisters and grandmother.
He said, it's not natural to lose your son, brother, nephew or grandson like this... but then he spoke of the comfort we find beyond what this life has to offer us.
Very fitting. Dee was never one to try and live beyond the rustic cowboy he was inside.
Nothing fancy. Nothing dressed up. Plain and simple.
Lastly, an older cowboy gentleman stepped up with a guitar in hand.
He sang
And then he sang Beulah Land
Simple.
Guitar and song.
Nothing else.
Just like it was supposed to be... the way Dee would have wanted it to be.
Just like him. Simple, plain cowboy.
And as he was singing it was thundering and raining too.
Nearly seemed as if it was planned the way the thunder would sound just after the preacher said something fitting, and how the rain stopped as the casket was loaded and while we went to the grave site.
And just as we'd gathered around with the last words, it began to sprinkle again.
During the talking it would thunder now and again and I'd smile thinking of Dee riding by us all again on his new horse in the clouds with lightning in the skies... hooves thundering past us as he rode on the wind.
It was less a good-bye, and more a see-you-later.
I can hardly wait.
Miss you Dee.
Ride on.





"I'm kind of homesick for a country
to which I've never been before.
No sad good-byes will there be spoken,
and time won't matter anymore.
Chorus:
Beulah Land, I'm longing for you
And some day on thee I'll stand.
There my home shall be eternal.
Beulah Land... sweet Beulah Land.
I'm looking now across that river
to where my faith is gonna end in sight.
There's just a few more days to labor,
then I'll take my heavenly flight.
Chorus."
"Oh the place where I worship is the wide open spaces,
built by the hand of the Lord.
Where the trees of the forest are the pipes of an organ,
and the breeze play an amen chord.
Oh the stars are the candles and they light up the mountains;
mountains are altars of God.
Oh the place where I worship is the wide open spaces
built by the hand of the Lord.
There's a carpet of green and a sky blue roof above
And I'm welcome there alone or with the one I love
In your heart take a good look; if you follow the good book.
You're sure to find your reward
Oh the place where I worship is the wide open spaces
built by the hand of the Lord."

Monday, October 24, 2011

Visitation


Back seat travel
sitting next to my sister
watching the trees fly by outside my window
like a forest going by on a very fast train.
Sleepy thoughts floating in and out
between daydreams and reason.
Huntsville.
An eternity away to nine year old me.
I watch the window
stare up into the sky
and wish I could fly
Free and happier than anything
to taste the clouds
and feel the wind blowing against my face
while smiling like crazy
because
I can fly.
I wake up and we're almost there.
The car stops at another red light.
I'm a little scared of whatever is up ahead
We pull into the drive and I wish I could shrink away inside my seat
until I'm invisible.
Guards stand watching in towers higher than the trees in my neighborhood.
Arms folded.
Eyes searching everything.
I can see their rifles shining in the hot afternoon sun
My heart beats so hard I'm afraid they can hear it.
The fence in front of me stands taller than my house.
Great loops of barbed wire give a cruel looking razor sharp, man-eating shine.
I look away quickly, and hope they won't ever tangle me
The guard we talk to speaks like he's a part of the fence.
He's like the wall.
No smiling in his eyes.
No nonsense in his voice.
He looks at me like he's reading another empty chapter
in a very long and hard book
that he wants to put down
and stop reading.
I'm too afraid to give him a smile or a wave.
So I just look back at him with a very wide-eyed, wondering look
trying not to do anything wrong.
We park a long way out.
It takes a long time to walk across the hot black parking lot toward the building.
Like the fence and the guards,
it looks enormous.
It stands like a giant brick box against the sky
as if it's trying to keep us all out
even the sunshine and the air.
Holding mom's hand tight as we start up the sidewalk
imposing
the doors don't want to let us in
the walls and bars don't want to let anyone out
I hold my breath as I walk inside.
Faces...
mean ones
tired ones
sad ones
angry ones
hungry ones
they all turn and look at me
Eyes tell me a story behind each person
some are sad
some are old
some full of hate
and others are only very tired
they look to see who the door let in
inside of their caged in world
made of glass, wire and steel
Fences and walls
inside of the giant box filled with guards
I feel small and afraid
and I wonder why we have to come here to see my Daddy
My sister is braver
She walks tall and unafraid
She acts like she can't see them looking
walking straight past the lady with the stroller
following mom like she's another grown up.
I look at the floor and keep up with her tennis shoes
I don't want to look up anymore.
Hard folding chairs line the room
with a counter full of little windows made of screen wire and glass
separating the whole room down the middle
groups of men sit on the other side of the windows
sitting and talking with us on the outside
guards stand at each side of the wall
and one sits in the middle between the two separated window aisles
He watches the men with folded arms
and stares at them, and us, all the while.
Daddy is behind the glass.
I see him come from outside of the hallway.
He looks different
but he has his same smile.
His eyes smile at me
and look tired around the edges.
He tries not to show it.
But I think his eyes are sad too.
He sits in front of the window.
And puts his hand on the glass.
It's like a game.
I put my little hand up to the glass too.
His hand is much bigger.
I smile and for a moment
I'm not afraid.
My sister talks first to Daddy.
She's older than I am and she's got a lot more to say.
School, the new house, new church, new friends...
Daddy smiles and then says to wait just a minute.
He goes up and gives the guard some change
and buys us sodas.
Puts them on the little ledge at the guard's post.
Then tells us to go and pick them up.
They are for us.
We walk down and wait, afraid to ask.
The guard stops being a wall for a half a minute
as he smiles and hands us the sodas.
Then goes back to his folded arms
and staring like a watchdog.
We play small games
whatever we can
on either side of the glass between us
Watching Mama and Daddy
they talk and smile some
and wipe away tears and talk some more.
It's not as good as a hug,
but the guards and the wall won't let him past.
So we put our hands again on the glass
and press them together there as long as we can.
Too soon, another guard calls time.
He stares like a wolf ready to bite somebody.
Daddy says he loves us, be good, listen to Mama.
And then he says good-bye
I think there were tears in his eyes.
Mama tries hard not to cry.
She watches as he leaves the little room
going down the hall
behind the caged-in bars.
Then we all turn away and leave for home.
I sleep nearly all the way there
waking now and then to stare up at the moon
wondering and staring
waiting for an answer to be spelled out in the stars.
The forest turns black and the sky to dark blue velvet.
while the trees fly silently past the window
like giant black bars made of iron.
I fall asleep and dream of flying over the big brick box
past the guards and razor wire
until I find my Daddy
where we both fly away together
soaring over the prison like a bird
and smiling like crazy
because we're free.

Closer to Heaven

The broken hearted
are closer to Heaven
than those who are sure of themselves.

Angels speak
to those who are lonely
in whispers of hope on every breath.

Tears that fall
leave a path
that only God can follow.

Solitude is that place
only one step away
from the footsteps of Jesus.

At the time of our greatest need
He is there.

In our time of deepest sorrow
His unseen arms hold us
closest to his heart.

Our hearts long for that home
where we have never yet stood.

We are homesick
for a place we have never seen
and have never been...
but are aching to go.

In our loneliness
we find the creator
of all
who awaits our weary souls
to look for Him.

Solitude is God
with no other one to equal his being.

Does he alone wait for the time we have to spend with him?

Does he feel as alone as we do
while waiting for us to seek His face?


Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Broken Horseman


Broken horseman of the plains
'neath winds blowing wild,
rest awhile your weary soul
Heaven's newest child.

Son of Thunder riding fierce
A fast and raging storm
Lightning-skilled with lariat
Pursuit in blazing form.

Raven-haired wrangler, our beloved
Dark tanned by Summer's sun,
Lying 'neath the ground below
Another trail's begun.

Your earthen-shadow left behind
Dropped there by Heaven's door,
Like an old shirt or pair of boots
That doesn't fit anymore.

Gone the steers and horses now
All ridden, roped and tied,
Safely pastured, penned and placed
Beyond that great divide.

Weary cowboy, rest your head
On Zion's blissful grounds,
Lift up your eyes to sights unseen
And ears to sainted sounds.

No mournful lowing cattle call
Nor restless wild-eyed steed
But ranchers, ropers, riders all
From earth fly long-last freed.

And when your eyes have seen their fill
Of Heavenly splendors untold,
Close them fast and think of those
Who you in their memories hold.

And on the shores less fair than those
You walk with old wounds healed,
They wait the Day of Reunite
Where all shall be fulfilled.

And while your ravaged body lies
Beneath the prairie's sod,
We who remain sing hopeful prayers
And breathe our sighs to God.

Until that day which never ends
Shall dawn where all is new,
Those of us on farthest shore
Shall often think of you...

When lightning flashes in the sky
And billowing thunder rolls,
We'll smile as in our hearts you ride
With other cowboy souls