To a Magnolia Flower

I saw thy beauty in its high estate
Of perfect empire, where at set of sun
In the cool twilight of thy lucent leaves
The dewy freshness told that day was done.

Hast thou no gift beyond thine ivory cone's
Surpassing loveliness? Art thou not near—
More near than we—to nature's silentness;
Is it not voiceful to thy finer ear? ...

Set wide the glory of thy radiant bloom!
Call every wind to share thy scented breaths!
No life is brief that doth perfection win.
To-day is thine—to-morrow thou art death's!

(Silas Weir Mitchell, 1829-1914)

I hear you

My dear one, I see your loneliness. I want to share in your emptiness. I will listen. Sing to me...

 

Shamed into solitude,
Shunned by the multitude,
I learned to listen;
In my dark, my heart heard music.
I longed to teach the world,
Rise up and reach the world;
No one would listen;
I alone could feel the music.

Then at last, a voice in the gloom
Seemed to cry "I hear you;
I hear your fears,
Your torment and your tears."
She saw my loneliness,
Shared in my emptiness;
No one would listen,
No one but her
Heard as the outcast hears. 

(Phantom of the Opera) 

 

Psalm 73

Verses 25-26...
    Whom have I in heaven but You?
        And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides You.
    My flesh and my heart may fail,
        but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

I am slooooowly learning the contentment that the Lord would have me to know. He is my strength and portion, which means that I can face the ache of loneliness with hands upturned before Him, trusting that He will give a gift better than earthly companionship.

Returning to hope

My dear one,

I must confess that for a while now my hope of finding you has been all dead. The end of summer was trying. The heat was oppressive and I was lethargic and cranky. I turned to "easy" meals instead of eating right. I dreaded the return to my job. 

And suddenly there I was, back to teaching (and yes, feeling slightly overwhelmed by all the changes that had taken place during my leave of absence). Still feeling horrible, lonely, dead inside. Bitter over the fact that everyone I know has a special someone.

Then, as a faint whisper but growing more and more obvious, autumn crept in. The lengthening shadows gave the first hint, followed by the drop in extreme humidity. Then the mornings brought that delicious coolness I have craved for so long. Colored leaves against a blue sky, apple cider, college football games on a Saturday afternoon, warm pumpkin muffins, damp grey days made cozy with a warm scarf around my neck... 

And with the return of this my favorite time of year, my hopes have also returned. I went back to running -- enjoying the marvelous trails downtown that follow the river. I settled into my new apartment. I settled into a new church home as well -- not the same one I attended when I lived here before, but one I have prayed about joining for seven years. Seems a bit shameful to admit I have departed from my Baptist upbringing,  but I feel like all my life has been pointing me towards making this step. A different denomination, yes, but one that preaches Christ in a way that makes me want to fall on my face in wonder and praise and gratitude. This church keeps me going, week in, week out. My suffocated prayer life has had new energy breathed into it. I have been able to participate in the music ministry, contribute meals to the weekly supper for college students, provide rides for an elderly lady who lives in my complex, and take dinners to a dear couple caring for a dying mother. Are you in this church, my dear one? Do I sing and pray and read God's Word with you each week?

I start crying even now, wanting with everything that I am to see you, talk to you, share my life with you. Will you resonate with the loneliness I feel? Will you see past the quiet smile as I greet you and sense the ache in my heart for relationship ... beyond mere pleasantries and meaningless chit-chat?

My dear one, come before it is too late. Before I give up all hope and sink too deeply into this solitary life that is pulling me down like quicksand.

Waiting,
Me