awol summer

June and July are for sure the worst months for me in remembering to blog, and I think it’s because every day feels so painfully long. It isn’t that there aren’t things to write about, because there are. Examples: Andy and Martha’s wedding, the trip to and from Arkansas, moving rooms and trading roomies again, buying health insurance, parks and rec life, going to the Milwaukee Art Museum and seeing Georgie O’Keeffe paintings in real life for the first time.  Life is full and sweet and still my heart struggles to be content.

I forget to be grateful for the 70 wild kids I get to work with every day. I fail to bask in the simplicity of quiet mornings with Tan before work.  I’m afraid of the coming semester, changing jobs, and I feel so insecure and unsteady. But here’s both the good and bad part: I didn’t actually realize I was feeling any of this specifically until yesterday. I was just feel sorry for myself about everything and really it’s just me putting my attention where it doesn’t belong. So I wrote a little poem and I think I’ll leave it here, at the end of this post.

You were imperfect in creation

but you were good before the world began.

That’s why I made you blind to your own image;

that’s why it’s called the fall of man

when his gaze fell from my intention.

I never meant for you to look at you.

Your eyes were made for me alone

and eyes that wander in distraction

lose sight of the one upon the throne;

I never wanted you to block your own view.

Look at me. See the good.

Loot at me.  Stop comparing man to God.

Look at me. I made you for my glory.

Look at me. Lift your eyes to life above.

Look at me. Let your gaze look where it should.