Dad always knows when Mom gives an off-hand, but definitive, "ok" to no one in particular, that she'll be ready to leave for where-ever they are going in exactly 5 minutes. What that two-letter word really means is "Ok. Get your shoes on, get the engine started, open the door, because people....we are going somewhere!"
And what are we if not something like our own moms?
I do it too.
Ok.
.
.
.
.
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I was engaged in a conversation about what is holy with someone who knows a whole lot more than me about all things God. But he used the word holy as an opposite to the word love. And the basic take-away was that we dare not lose sight of the holiness of God because we are sinners and God is not happy with that and WE WILL PAY.
Hot mess.
That is antiquated. Remember this post? And this one? To summarize: "All things are inventions of holiness. Some more rascally than others." (Mary Oliver) I don't know much about much lately - especially about church and religion and my denomination and my place in it all. But I know know k.n.o.w. that the God who resides in my soul and gives me breath is pure holy love. Of course you can't see that pure awesomeness when I'm - gasp - yelling at my children or gossiping with my friends or all those other shit things I do - that are nothing but lazy excuses for being my best, truest, kindest self. I am broken. I am self-indulgent. But God is so beautifully holy. And when I return to my truest ME, and when I look into your truest YOU, there I see all three synonyms....Holy, God, Love.
I received the ashes on my forehead as they spoke these words:
"Tonya, you are dust. And to dust you shall return."
Thank God for my mortality. But I so love this life and this skin I'm in. I don't want to be dust just yet. I've grown accustomed to things stirring around on my insides during Lent. (see the tab) As the 40 days begin again, I'm throwing it out there to the universe that I'm seeking the Holy. I want to get simple enough to see it, to pare back enough to make the space to have my breath taken away by it. To have it make my stomach hurt from laughter. To have it occur to me in the middle of the chaos. To have it surprise me in the quiet. To have Holy make itself so tangible that I can't help but dance.
This is the year of going big or going home after-all, right?
Join me?
Ok.