a blessing

by all means, go deep. embrace all those true and vulnerable places.

see the ways that what was beautiful

became broken

scarred, limping

agree that what was done was wrong,

and forgive anyway,

because then you become

so free

and your love unstoppable.

by all means, dive down into the darkness

take your courage with you

because only then

can you defeat the old enemies

that lurk, waiting to bind you up again

in the fear

and the shame

and all the lies 

you have no business believing 

when the truth lives in you.

by all means, go deep,

but hear this:

don't forget to play.

because when you are a child

in all the most real senses

you are free and alive

and suddenly

people are joining you in your freedom

and discovering a God

who doesn't want their perfect performances

doing all the "should"s, all the right ways.

they, together with you,

explore, and discover

that this God

loves to play

right there with them.

because it means you're together

and engaged

and delighting in love and beauty and presence

together.

together.

together.

a light spirit

 

in some ways, this is a misnomer.

my friends will tell you i am one of the most heavyhearted people they know.

i have struggled my way through mild depression, even before it could be called post-partum. never enough to be diagnosed, just enough to weigh on me. dysthymia, one psychologist-friend said. i've been to therapy, but never on medication. (yet. when i'm done breastfeeding, i am definitely considering it.)

but i wonder to myself if this is just the condition of those who choose to go deeper.

destined to the depths. with kelp wrapping, shark-fears circling... ever clawing our way to the surface for air. so then, why go deep at all? why dive down below the sparkling surface? why make new discoveries of beauty in the darkness?

because we must.

we must because we are no longer content with words that sail us happily along a glassy-flat experience of a one-sided life.

we must because we know he meets us there, more than anywhere, because we need him most there, where our ships have sunk. where our treasure can be regained.

and we must because of all the souls sinking around us. we are rescuers, those of us willing to plunge beneath lovely exteriors. bringing our diver's headlamp and what oxygen we have to the ones fighting for life. it's not enough for all of us sometimes, especially when the victim thrashes, disconnecting our breathing apparatus, headlocking us in their confusion, and we have to come up for air. but then we're right back in the frothy fray, stealing wriggling ones straight out of hungry jaws.

so this blog's title is maybe more of a twofold prayer, than a descriptor at this point.

a prayer for a light spirit - a spirit full of light, buoyed with purpose.

and a prayer that says, "alight, spirit. speak your light-words through me in this space."

jesus, make it so.