it was 3 pm and the watercolors bled.
i tried to paint your perfect portrait,
but my hands shook, and the colors wept.
i stuck my ribbed hands out
to catch the bleeding mess,
but the humanity in me was flawed, yet again.
thank you for heavy noises,
thank you for just words,
thank you for the fracture needed, for the voices heard.
and i am lonesome no more.
for we each felt the thread,
could pull what was unraveled,
It can be easy painting a vivid, yet fanciful image of someone in your mind, building up the possibilities of "what could be." And, it can be difficult swallowing words you do not wish to hear or are not yet prepared for. It is messy, and you are left to sort through the emotions and thoughts that remain.
I have realized, however, how God works with deep goodness. He places people in our lives to remind us that not all is lost when these sharp words appear. As Sufjan would say, "There is someone right here who knows you more than you do, who is making room on the couch, who is fixing a meal, who is putting on your favorite record, who is listening intently to what you have to say, who is standing there with you..." We have a God that works in messiness, through beating, listening, and alive hearts. Not all is lost.