grieving joyous

it was a long quiet (relatively speaking) week. it was nice to hear from those of you who emailed and left comments. when i was at my wits end at a couple points midweek, i read your kind words and rejoiced. what can i say? i did the best i could. at least i didn't email back and forth.

i cleaned my entire apartment. there are only five boxes left for me to sort through and unpack. the ny equivalent of my playroom in texas (that room was such a disaster, the place where i piled all my piles to deal with later.

clutter,

helen buttigieg says,

is the result of postponed decisions).

well, these five boxes are visually overwhelming, so i didn't finish them, but put them where i don't have to be tormented by them.

missing music is perhaps the hardest part. though, i don't know that what i play is the most edifying stuff there is, it does speak to me. i understand some of my friends hate that i listen to the stuff, but i'm grateful they love me anyway.

i came away from last week with an understanding of my brokenness. always, this need to see afresh how i'm dysfunctioning. i liken it to having termites. all is well, until one sees the tell tale piles of wooddust here and there. then, you can either ignore it and hope for the best, or you can have it checked out.

when the verdict comes back, treatement is the only option. mandated in some places. my treatment is truth. honesty. so many times i've come before God saying,

i'm broken. look at me. what a mess. can you ever fix this?

yes.

He says.

i'm no poster child for right living, but i understand brokenness. and i was so down about the state of my soul. the termites in my earthly abode, that i just had to lament it in a few poems.

my sister encouraged me.

you're honest.

she said.

but that honesty comes at a price. so i sat in church on sunday feeling like damaged goods. riddled with termite tracks and wooddust on my head. sackcloth.

God encouraged me. of course. with the story of job. i've said it before,

his restoration came hand in hand with his grief. his joyous new birth of children, with the mourning of his lost ones. he did not go giggling into old age. he went sober and a man grieving joyous.

i wrote a poem that basically proclaimed, once i know those termites are there, the battle's nearly finished.

you can't fight an unknown enemy. you can't defeat a hidden foe. even the worst warrior knows this. we must know our sin, reckon with our shortcomings. and trust God to equip us for battle. to do battle on our behalf.

i don't know what will happen tomorrow, or today, for that matter. but this i know. terminix is in the house. God is about restoring the cedars of lebanon. driving out the devouring locust and munching termite.

praise be to God.

one thing more: i thought all three of those losers on rockstar should have been eliminated. not just the dude who played duran duran for tommy lee, dave navarro, and the dude from metallica (i always forget his name, why is that?). duh. duran duran is so totally eighties. knucklehead. but chris and phil need to be eliminated asap. they suck. zaida (or whatever her name is, that hot little chili pepper from puerto rico needs to go tambien) hasta luego.