is this not sacred

If Jesus lived through years of his life working a carpenters job 

Sweating, getting splinters, dirty feet, and aching muscles, 

Bruised, thirsty and altogether unremarkable, the illegitimate son of––

If If If

Then––

Is this not sacred too?

Is this not holy war 

And faithful, fearful

Living before the face of God

This living

This body

This temple

This secret

This holy place

Here?

Are you sure?

Here?

You want to dwell—

With me?

What kind of god is

This?

That chooses to dwell

Holy

In the dirt

With the dust 

That betrayed him

To make a home 

Out of us

What is this sacred life?

This living

This breathing

This dying

This eating

This waking

This working

This sleeping

This human body 

To a never dying soul 

This is holy ground

Jesus walks here

Dwells here

Abides here

Makes all things new here

Is this the secret?

He is here

black and white

How do I paint the sky for you 

In words of black and white

How do I describe my dad to you

Or the way the trees play with the light

I trace your hands along my scar

But you don’t know how it feels

You don’t feel the leather seats in my car

Or my burnt skin after the sun when it peels

Do you hear the supper bell clang

Do you know the woods where we roam 

Do you remember how the crickets sang

Or the sound of the gravel coming home

I try to do my best to paint

These pictures in black and white

You smile and nod but it ain’t

The same–it’s all just black and white

you touch me

You touch me

    –What?
You lay your hands on my body
    –No.

My body is vulnerable
Weak, open
Too open

My body is sexual
And I can't

Stop it

My body is an object
To be used
By the hands laid on it

It is not safe

    –But you are safe.

Your hands, my God

    –They are safe.

Your hands are gentle

Healing

Not intrusive

Your hands,

They hold me

They are only good intentions

You know me. My body. Its scars. Its openness, vulnerability, beauty, sexuality, physicality, spirituality, trauma, insecurity, its comforts and discomforts. You know the darkness, the brokenness, bruises beneath the surface. 

    –Ow, it's still sore there. 

You know. You know the dirt beneath my nails.

    –Is it dirt? I don't remember.

You know the lies that have shaded my eyes, sealed my lips shut.

You know this body. You formed this body of death. You loved this body of death, this house to a soul. You died to redeem it. You laid your hands on me in the grave. I am not clean. I am dirty and it's ugly here and I don't know how to talk about it. You came to me in the dark when I was weak, defensive. I did not know who you were. 

I only knew gentle hands that didn't rip me open, did not tear me down. You do not ask where it hurts. You know all my bruises.

You wore my death in your own body on a tree in your flesh. It rose up in your throat from your lungs, stealing your breath, suffocating you. Yes– you know my shame. You drank it whole. You stole it away from me.

My body is flesh and bones and dust and divine touch

And you lay your hands on this dirt

And make me come alive in your arms

You take me into your house of healing and you touch everywhere it hurts

And I am not afraid

You take the hurt over and over 

I did not know you were taking it 

yourself in through your fingertips 

on my skin

You trade me 

Life for death

Life for death

Life for death

Until it's all that's left

In this body of death

to be seen

He holds me in His strong arms
He wipes my dirty face with His dirty hands,
Rough scarred and gentle

He looks at me
And I am terrified of being seen

He looks at me
And I cannot understand
How absolutely satisfied He is with me

He loves my mind,
The way my hair falls when I wake up
The way I tap my foot when I’m alone

He takes joy and pride in his work in me
That I am who I am, formed in his own mind and heart,
Utterly His own, in His own likeness

He delights Himself in me
In me?
In me

If He is perfect and
He is content with me
He is overjoyed that I am His daughter
He is excited that I am coming home
He is attentive to me and my cries and anger and lostness and joys and laughter and all that makes my aching heart beat faster

If I am His love
And He is mine

Then I can be at rest
In His arms–
In the darkness and the light

I am on my way home
I am coming home to You

even the darkness

Even the darkness

Even the darkness

Even the darkness

Even the darkness

I repeat to myself in the darkness

I scream to myself in the darkness

I breathe to myself in the darkness

In the garden

Was it not darkness to you?

In the garden

When your sweat and blood mixed with the dirt

and your body weary, strained, crying,

knowing what was coming next?

Were you afraid when you asked your Father to take it away,

when you pleaded if there's any other way,

knowing there was none?

Did you love him so much it hurt?

Was it physical, emotional, spiritual, mental–

the excruciating pain?

Did you love me so much it hurt?

The thought of being separated, torn apart,

despised, buried, suffocating, abandoned 

by your friends as you chose to die eternally for them

Was it dark to you then?

It is dark to me sometimes

I see redemption coming,

but, here, it is dark

— olivia gwyn

Even the darkness is not dark to you;
    the night is bright as the day,
    for darkness is as light with you.

Psalm 139:12

I wrote this for a friend

I keep looking for myself elsewhere

People keep telling me to keep looking 

But I keep losing myself elsewhere

I don't know how that happens when

I've never even felt like I've found

myself

enough to lose

myself

Yet I keep looking and losing but 

for once I would like to find something 

worth keeping

to be found

worth keeping

The darkening makes

me feel worth

discarding

It's lonely here

But you find me here

Over and over again

You walk with me

On paths my feet know too well

Through the dark all night

The dawning makes

me feel worth

something

Maybe everything

Because you gave everything to

Find me and

Keep me and

Show me that you

Found me

Worth keeping–

Till the end

"I am with you always, even to the end of the age."

only tonight

I catch my breath 
As the air pours through the windows

And it hits me out of the nowhere

How many more times in my life will I get this view on a night like this

When the fields smell of fresh grass and damp earth and old hay
And the crickets are singing
To the darkness or the moon or each other

How many more drives home 
When home is a simple word 
When home is a place with people you love 
And it is home

It hits me like a bag of cement to the gut
You’re going to miss this

Everything is changing
And it happens so fast
And we wish it away
For the next the better the best

But it never comes 
Because there is only today 

And today is all we get

Only tonight-
The thin clouds
The lone star
The invisible brightness
Headlights on the road
One hour down
On the way home
On the threshold of summer

Because all of a sudden two years from now is a week from Tuesday 
And nothing's ever going to be the same

So let me breathe in the air
And let tonight be tonight
Let me drive the roads of monotony
And let it settle in my bones
Let me feel it while it’s here
Let me ache let me cry let me bang my head against the steering wheel turn the music up run my hands through my hair and be still 

Let me know that I am alive
And these are the days
These are my days
God-- don’t let them slip away

what if

I remember asking my Dad
Nervous 
Riding in his truck

What was the last thing
Do you remember the last time
The last thing your mom said to you
Before she died

Because what if
Because just in case
Because you never know

Because what if I don't remember
What if I forget

How many times have I 
Tried to brand a memory 
Into my brain, a moment in time

How many have I forgotten?

Eternity is written on our hearts,
But pales in comparison to our own finiteness.

I'm scared of the payphone
Cutting out with no warning

Too many insignificant goodbyes
I love you's, see you later
Ok I'm leaving now

Missed opportunities

Until it was significant
And you missed it
And you're left scrambling-- 

Did I say I love you?
If I can't remember did I even really mean it?

...

You're in an other room right now
and I hope you know I love you
Today right now every moment

Every time you walk out that damn door

so I don't have to

I love you for the way

you look me in my eyes

and try to hide what you want

so I don't have to

I try to hide my smile 

and you ask why

but I lie and say it's nothing

cause I don't have the words to say what that means

JUSTRYLIE.COM

my soul knows it

your works are wonderful- 

in me, in my soul, in my body.

your works are wonderful-

in the way my hand holds this pen 

and the mess from my mind

spills onto this page.

your works are wonderful-

in the length of my legs

and the color of my eyes

and the thinness of my lips.

your works are wonderful- 

in how you led me to yourself

opened my eyes

and made me walk in the light.

your works are wonderful-

in my hands' caring for others 

in the tears I wish away

in the peace and unrest I carry with me at all times

your works are wonderful-

my soul knows it very well.

psalm 139:14.