Tree and Dragon

She is a thunderstorm dragon
rolling in from a distance.

I am an oak tree.
He came to me to rest
in my shade
my unknowing of his escaped peril,
confusion.

The thunderdragon
the glittering reptile
Mysterious
eclectic
a mash of girl
and beast

She slunk
he followed.
He trailblazed
she skittered after.
Never walking together,
but never seen without the other.

Two years later,
she has awoken.
My silent threat.

I had a place to belong
in the masses
60,000 strong.
I am behind the scenes,
And now
so is she.

She eyes me as I move.
Ever watching.
Judging.
Calculating.
I find respite,
she breaks the calm.

Like a snake
sizing an opponent,
a cat
determining its foe.
Am I too stong to break?
Will I burn with her fire?

I dream
to make the first jab
send splinters
javelins
hurt
between the multicolored scales.
To repay for the hurt done to him.
He still carries to this day.

I can't
I am rooted.

So we watch each other
Wary,
Cautious,
No trust forming.

Tree and dragon

When Life Isn't Fair

What do you do when Life isn't treating you fair?

Cry?
Get angry?
Become depressed?
Give up?
Just ignore it?

I have been through all of those within the last few months. I've lost several job opportunities. I've worked my butt off to please supervisors. I've fought with the supervisors for what I thought was fair. I stuck my neck out for myself.

And what did I get in return? Life just sticking it's tongue out at me. "Haha. You suck, Liz," Life says. Then the doubts set in.

Will I ever get it right?
Will I ever get my dream job?
Will they ever care about me?

Do I matter, or should I just give up?

*Sigh*


Psalm 73 in the Message (good to get the gist of the verses)

1-5 No doubt about it! God is good—
    good to good people, good to the good-hearted.
But I nearly missed it,
    missed seeing his goodness.
I was looking the other way,
    looking up to the people
At the top,
    envying the wicked who have it made,
Who have nothing to worry about,
    not a care in the whole wide world.

6-10 Pretentious with arrogance,
    they wear the latest fashions in violence,
Pampered and overfed,
    decked out in silk bows of silliness.
They jeer, using words to kill;
    they bully their way with words.
They’re full of hot air,
    loudmouths disturbing the peace.
People actually listen to them—can you believe it?
    Like thirsty puppies, they lap up their words.

11-14 What’s going on here? Is God out to lunch?
    Nobody’s tending the store.
The wicked get by with everything;
    they have it made, piling up riches.
I’ve been stupid to play by the rules;
    what has it gotten me?
A long run of bad luck, that’s what—
    a slap in the face every time I walk out the door.

15-20 If I’d have given in and talked like this,
    I would have betrayed your dear children.
Still, when I tried to figure it out,
    all I got was a splitting headache . . .
Until I entered the sanctuary of God.
    Then I saw the whole picture:
The slippery road you’ve put them on,
    with a final crash in a ditch of delusions.
In the blink of an eye, disaster!
    A blind curve in the dark, and—nightmare!
We wake up and rub our eyes. . . . Nothing.
    There’s nothing to them. And there never was.

21-24 When I was beleaguered and bitter,
    totally consumed by envy,
I was totally ignorant, a dumb ox
    in your very presence.
I’m still in your presence,
    but you’ve taken my hand.
You wisely and tenderly lead me,
    and then you bless me.

25-28 You’re all I want in heaven!
    You’re all I want on earth!
When my skin sags and my bones get brittle,
    God is rock-firm and faithful.
Look! Those who left you are falling apart!
    Deserters, they’ll never be heard from again.
But I’m in the very presence of God—
    oh, how refreshing it is!
I’ve made Lord God my home.
    God, I’m telling the world what you do!

-conclusion soon, come back in a day or two-

I Know He Has Heard Me

When I fail, God shows up.

Last night, Kyle urged me to get back into conversation with God. We were sitting on the hood of the covered up rusty '65 Ford Galaxie in his driveway.

"The Lord has no grandchildren," Kyle said. What did that mean to me? I thought... and tears started to blur my vision. He's a relational God. What does He want from me?

"I can only do so much. I can't make you pray and talk to God. I can only lead you there. You have to do the rest." How long has it been since I sincerely prayed to God? The camp life has definitely altered my usual habits along with my thinking. The tears took over. I know what I should be doing. Simply walking with God everyday. But I don't. 

I felt exposed. I felt like a failure. I couldn't call myself a child of God. I'd confessed that I'd stopped looking for "results" from having that daily walk. Not saying they weren't there. I just didn't see them, because I wasn't looking. I was also taking the small things for granted. 

Finally, after many small urgings from Kyle, I laid on the hood of his car, and looked at the trees and the sky. A hummingbird flitted between the blooms of the tree above us. God's listening, I thought. 

There were still tears, but I got up the courage to pray aloud. I felt like it was the hardest thing in the world to do. I had so much to say... and apologize for... and share how I was feeling... but I didn't do it for Kyle. I prayed for that relationship between me, and my God. My Father. 

When I was finished praying, I still felt a little awkward, but at the same time, it felt right to be back in conversation with God.

What happened next made me feel like God had listened. 

In the gathering darkness, a small shape came stalking through the grass of Kyle's lawn toward us. I scurried to hide behind him, as I feared a skunk. While the creature was inky black, it made no hesitation to my frantic voice, and as it came closer, Kyle said, "ohh, it's a kitty!"

It thought about hopping up on the car with us, but hesitated. I tried to lean down and pet her, but I only got her tail. I slid down from the car and laid on my belly to tell the kitty that I wanted to be her friend. She came and cuddled with me for the next 45 minutes, and stayed in the front of the house for awhile after that. 

This was a street cat. She had four sets of claws, some missing fur, no collar, and was skin and bones. I wondered if she lived in the woods behind the zoo, frightening people who take their friends down those trails late at night just to scare them. 

She loved me. She purred. She had a ragged meow that broke my heart. 

If God was to love me like that through a random cat... I was going to give back. I ran inside, grabbed the nearest can of tuna and disposable bowl and made her a tuna meal with some wonderful clear water to drink. She gobbled down half the can before retiring to the yard to wash after her meal.

By then, it was late, and I went up to her with another bit of tuna and thanked her and God for coming to me and listening to me. And showing up when I fail.