The work of my hands, Established c. 1987

Yesterday I spent two hours and a little more training for my new position as intern with Washington Eagle Forum. I know. The term "intern" is rather ambiguous. Let me enlighten you. I will be updating their database, which involves editing mailing lists, contact information etc. I also will be managing their website, posting new material, articles, and such. Its just a few hours a week, but frankly, I'm excited. And happy. I had been wondering if pizza was to swallow up my life in large mouth fulls till all that can be seen is pepperoni and bus tubs and grease.

Anyone who knows me would say that I'm not the type they would describe with the words "technical," "computer," or "database," anywhere in the diatribe. This being the case, I find it truly a manifestation of God's sovereignty that He would have me doing such uncharacteristic and unexpected work. In the past few weeks I have been meditating on Psalm 90. The very last two verses jumped out and kissed me on the nose.

"Let Your work appear to Your
servants,
And Your glory to their children.
And let the beauty of the Lord our
God be upon us,
And establish the work of our hands
for us;
Yes, establish the work of our hands."

I whispered those words at work over pizzas, I panted them out on my morning runs, I hummed them at home while I stirred simmering pots of soup, I sang them out as I stood at church with a hymnal in my hands. I want to say them forever: Let the beauty of the Lord be upon me, establish the work of my hands, oh establish the work of my hands. I am still wandering in the wilderness where He led me, but now suddenly the desert landscape seems to be blossoming with vitality and everywhere I look I am seeing the lines, curves, unmistakable prints of my Father's hands. His work has appeared in splendid colors of unimaginable vibrancy. Even pizza looks beautiful from where I stand, breathless at the view. And this is just the beginning.

I went to the wilderness

I went to the wilderness because a hand of destiny beckoned.
I went to the wilderness unwilling, stubborn, afraid, like a captive
Squirrel to civilization. And when the cage bars rose away above me I
Looked up and couldn’t see the doorway it had left behind. Scary
Doorway, beautiful bars, precious, safe. Scary doorway, leave me
Alone. I went to the wilderness weeping, like a widow. I mourned
For my precious future, gone, gone, gone like all other little precious
Nothings that I longed for. I wore black to the wilderness and the veil
That I lay over my red face billowed like a thundercloud above me.
I wore black to my wedding, cold shrew that I was, I wore black to the
Happy day in the wilderness valley. I did not know it was happy.
I could not see. I could only cry for my precious, precious future, oh future
Of dreams, of desires, of delight, oh future, precious, why have you gone?
But no answer would come from my precious, so bright, so beautiful.
It was gone. And so I went to the wilderness, following a strange
Stirring, a whispering in the air, not as a bold adventurer, off
To new undiscovered lands of mystery, but as
A new widow goes to the gravesite, weary, betrayed, seemingly
Alone. But I was not alone. The stirring became a walking, and the
Whispering became a voice, and there in the wilderness, it walked, and
It spoke. What it said is not as important as what it meant, but I shall
Tell you anyway. It said, “Trust me.” Simply that, which is easy to tell
But not so easy to understand. But at those words the veil tore away from my head and I watched it fly, black tulle extended like
Grasping hands towards me as it flew up and away from me. And with
It went a part of me that mourned for my precious. All that stayed
Was a woman, standing, surprised, with joy in her face and trust
In her heart.

Out of the wilderness

"Who is this coming up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved?"
Song of Solomon 8:5a

Someday they will see me on the hazy desert horizon, and at first they won't know it is me.
The steady ripple of heat will enshroud my tired body, dust will be like a robe for me.
Nothing will stretch out like a cruel cat behind me.
But this time it won't be allowed to pounce on me or beat me with its Nothing, Nothing paws.
I will come out of Egypt much more worn and brown than I went in, but every new line on my face will be like love kisses from my Beloved.
Oh yes, yes, my Beloved who at that moment as I look up is looking down at me with all the pride and joy of a bridegroom laughing out from His oasis eyes.
And as they look they will know that something wondrous has happened, is happening, or is soon to happen.
They will see me leaning on the arm of my Beloved and they will run to meet us and prepare a feast and shout and dance for joy that we have come.
Someday they will see me coming up from the wilderness and they will praise my Beloved.