May they see that I have eyes for only You.

Maybe the shadows are safer.

Last night, I sat on the concrete ledge around a no longer flowing fountain. I was talking on the phone to my sisterfriend. I was talking about hard, meaningful things. And then a man drove by in his blue car and yelled something to me out the window. I didn’t hear exactly, but I think it was “what are you doing tonight?” Sir, I was wearing a raincoat, talking to my friend. What does it look like I’m doing tonight?

And then I walked home. I like walking in the shadows because no one can really see me, but as my eyes are adjusted, I can see others. As I was walking, a street light came on when I walked under it. It was annoying to me, because I like not being able to be seen. When I walk down brightly lit streets I am just as likely to be yelled at as when the street is dark.

The men who are disrespectful will be just as disrespectful in the daylight as they will be at night. The man who wants to yell from his car will yell regardless of whether I am walking in a well lit place or not. It is “harmless,” after all, yelling from his car, he thinks. So I would rather not be seen. I would rather walk in my dark clothes through the shadows that are dark at night, than walk through a well-lit parking lot.

“The parking lot is well-lit,” she said, the real estate agent, trying to convince my friend to rent the apartment. Well, that’s fine and dandy trying to get groceries out of the car or unbuckling a seatbelt, but simply walking? Eh, my favorite sort of walking is done in woods, not so many streetlights there.

Oy. I’d just rather not be yelled at when I’m walking, no matter the hour of the day, no matter where I am, okay? cool.

Today I was given word gifts.

I am bold.
I am real.

Next on the list, I want to be hospitable. Probably no one will notice this one though, because I want to be the type of hospitable that makes Americans squirm.

Come in, sit down, let me make you tea.
Here, eat this apricot I bought at the grocery store today. Isn't its color pretty? I want to share it with you.

Some days I am thin-skinned.
Some days I am fragile like a tea kettle on the edge of a precipice.
Some days the air in the common room is thick like peanut butter in summertime.
Some days the lies come rushing, so sneaky and subtle that I don't catch them till they have put down their nasty little roots and are already chopping at the oak trees in the river.

Some days at work, God puts music into my head.

Dwell in the midst of us
Wipe all the tears from our faces
Dwell in the midst of us
You can have Your way,

so we pour out our praise pour out our praise,
it's your breath in our lungs…

Some days.

tired.
of.

the crickets are soothing.
I work at seven but I just want to watch Parenthood and bask in the cricketness.

…and if my neighbors wake me up at 4 like the past four nights or so, I may call the police.

Corpus. p.1.

My community is shared orange
slices and tuna salad you brought
in tupperware for me to eat later.
How God always cares for me lavishly
through His people,
for my belly and my soul,

meaningful conversations while
communing in simplicity,
laughter because the water fountain sprays,
sitting quiet without words in our mouths
but ears full of crickets,
enraptured with each season's delights
because we are Yours.

Community, you hold my soul
and we live less heavy between
each other's strong grasps
where my faults are called out gently,
called out and up, safely,
and my strengths are brought like dawn.
You bring them brightly.
And where my soul can breathe
but I am breathless.

(last line stolen ;) )