keeping up with the jones'

it's been almost a month since i put my pen to paper, his electronic type pad, that is. i'm feeling lost even trying to edit my thoughts here. i guess losing my job has taken a lot out of me. been writing much poetry lately, mostly in my head, afraid to put pen to it, for fear these nightmares come to undergird all the equilibrium herein.

what am i so afraid of?

i remember saturday night, the scene before the party. my tear stained face pressed against another, the warm glow from the ears and hands adding another dose of healing. i treaded carefully, wobbling clumsily on unchartered territories. places we've never gone before. this is all new. but this, this, is a good beginning.

times like these i wonder why i am still here? why you are still on the couch with me? why you still haven't walked away? why you still trust me? why God's still in love to have His hands and feet hold me in these unlikely times.

who am i that You should be mindful of me?

i've listened to them voices that accuse, condemn and twist. i've stopped singing because i was afraid. now, it's a scary thought to think of what is ahead. i'm afraid to pick up the guitar, for i know not what i might write, that might be a prelude to a journey less travelled.

but some things never change. and this one thing is the one thing that cuts the cake for me.

so to hell with the jones' and their nice dresses and shoes and status quo. i wanna be known for the songs we sing all through generations. songs like nursery rhymes that speak of His glory.

give me this day my daily bread, literally.