Waiting, waiting.
Pressure builds.
You'd think eventually the top would pop off.
Sides are threatening to explode at their seams.
Seams that I didn't know where there until their strength was tested.
Surely there can't be anymore room?
But there is. Always, it seems.
I don't know from where it all comes.
It's like someone put an undetectable extension charm on my life.
I don't care so much that no one else can detect it, but it'd be nice if I could sometimes. Save me a lot of grief.
But then where would be the room for grace?
If there was infinite space and I knew it, grace wouldn't find a hole big enough to inhabit.
But with all crevices stuffed to their limits, grace multiplies.
It abounds.
Pressure builds.
You'd think eventually the top would pop off.
Sides are threatening to explode at their seams.
Seams that I didn't know where there until their strength was tested.
Surely there can't be anymore room?
But there is. Always, it seems.
I don't know from where it all comes.
It's like someone put an undetectable extension charm on my life.
I don't care so much that no one else can detect it, but it'd be nice if I could sometimes. Save me a lot of grief.
But then where would be the room for grace?
If there was infinite space and I knew it, grace wouldn't find a hole big enough to inhabit.
But with all crevices stuffed to their limits, grace multiplies.
It abounds.
My heart holds up a 'no vacancy' sign and grace says 'I'm coming in anyway'.
ReplyDeleteKind of reminds me of a phrase I learned from a sweet NC lady at Hutchmoot: "a gracious plenty." Always enough, plus a little bit more.
ReplyDeleteMay you always find a gracious plenty, friend. <3
(sorry. The Moot people are still infiltrating my thinking.)