Ever felt alone in the world, like your dreams are on the floor, crumpled up like rejected ideas, and you feel kinda like you are...

Dora the Explorer while she watches Swiper the Fox steal her backpack with "THE MAP, THE MAP, THE MAP" inside?

I have.

Only my "Dora Map" really cannot be stolen.

It's hidden in my heart. It's God's Word.

I keep trying to draw up my own map to the ice-cream, candy mountain, only it gets wrecked every freaking time.

Those days when I have lost my hope and my humor, I pick up a (WWJD) pencil and paper, and write a poem telling God how I feel, with a usually feeble attempt at the end to give Him glory and talk about His goodness.

Normal people would just eat a chocolate bar or binge on Netflix, but I feel like maybe my abnormal habit lends itself more to healing and learning from the pain rather than numbing. So, here is my poem and it is personal, but that's okay... I've learned lately that being vulnerable is powerful. It leads to connection with others, our deepest desire and our deepest fear: To be known.

PRESENTING,

"Moonlight heartache." No, that is WAY too cheesy.

Clair de Lune

In a field of Milky Way,

at the noon of night

A full moon beamed down,

its misty white light

Reflecting silver on a horse

And making quite a sight.

Owls hooting, Dew sparkling

And eyes straining,

I stared up into that ancient moon.

A mysterious one, that quiet Lune.

And old man moon in his queer majesty

Enthroned amid the twinkling sea

Sang me a tune called Clair de Lune.

And looking quite like a bright droplet of glue,

He stared at me too.

If that cratered, silver face

He could once lean down

So many things I'd ask him

If he could make a sound

If his ear could reach close,

Him, so silent and morose,

Pale and distant as a ghost

Ever-changing the tides of coast

Questions like..

How did the shepherds look

Frightened on the hill?

Did Vincent really paint at night

Upon that starlit hill?

How oft did Lewis stare at you

From his Oxford windowsill?

Maybe..

Do you like to be eclipsed

Or does it rather leave you miffed?

Also, a word of comfort

I'd give to the ancient ball

You're not alone in loneliness

It's here on earth,

Because of the fall.

And the dew might be

The moon's glistening tears

As he gazes with silvery light

Back at me, weeping for dreams,

Against a post, among his beams

On that, a Starry, Starry night

Here it could end, but I might add:

The moon's seen another scene

The Savior weeping tears of blood

As companions of His

Mumble sweetly in dreams.

Man of sorrows,

Raised from dead.

For us He is the broken bread.

How blest am I to share his pain.

Should be my crowning joy,

Not shame.

You know, I've always had a love/hate relationship with Dora. I thought she was pretty stupid to seek the advice of me, a four year old, before every single decision.

Me waiting for her to wait for me to answer with a blinking, awkward stare plastered on her face was insanely aggravating. I wanted to pummel the TV screen, and I'd do cartwheels around the living room to burn off steam.

Give me some action! I know about seat belts already! Where's Swiper when you need him?!

Which leads me to another thought.

Satan and evil or "Swiper" will always be in our lives, that is, until we reach the shore of Home. He certainly makes things interesting. . And the pain he creates is never for nothing. God is sovereign over every situation and circumstance on the trail of life and His Word always leads us right.

I'll be much happier when Swiper's been done in though, and Jesus has turned

"even agonyinto glory" (C.S. Lewis)

I'll be disappointed if there isn't a moon in heaven.