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7.31.07
(From the first night I moved into Carmen's Room)

Backdrop:

For months at a time I will go through themes. There are words that will prop-up and gather meaning for me, words like tents that hold all these meaning and cadence inside, like tents or rooms echoing the challenge at hand for me, words that spill the essence in the room of my dialogue with God.
And it is so dear to me how God engages my words. How he says,
"Ok, you've propped me up like this? I'll move in what you're saying and dreaming about....or OK, this is your native tongue? I'll speak right back to you with your words. Just to be obvious. Just because I love you. And mostly, I want you to get this. I want you to hear me and I want you to know that I am this rad."

I moved into Carmen's room reluctant. testing the "vibe" as I do. And God blessed my first night. I am in a "tent" period. Where I keep asking for the Lord to set up his tent in my land, even if it is a demented land. But if the Lord sets could just set a tent. And I keep wanting to be in the Lord's tent.

God spoke to me that this new room is for me to make a tent! A place of rightness and where everything fits, like 07. This is the year of Sabbath and everything finding its right place and of rest. of looking back and calling what has been made or done or rendered good.
something is starting to wake-up in my land in my new room.
what a world that has started to sprout right here in this room

wrote (from) 7-31-07

your tent!

What a new thing is waking

Forget the former things.
Do not dwell in the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up:
do you not perceive it?

Everything fit.
Everywhere I am in your tent!
You have buried so many gems in me my head running over and over
when you planted them and the way you tied it all together.

Reluctant to take Carmen's room over, but then I started putting books inside, handfuls at a time (with no boxes to aid) picking the very best, my fondest books and little things off the shlef. Praying and asking "Is this the way? to really go to that dark room near the yapping dogs, shall I leave this room finally warmed-up?"

Then I found it. I found on the shelf, my "Myster" checkered notebook. My journal Joann gave me. My dearest fondest journal I have ever had. the one that has been missing since I met Cliff. I wrote the last entry the dawn of the day I met him, that very day. And I've kept wondering what it said, as it was writing my heart crying out for my man. speaking to the deepest of my needs and teh stakes. It was written to my Grmampa.

So I'm pulling out my favorite books from my shelf, and there it was, my beloved journal.

You were already bidding me yesterday:
The night before I read Joann my dearest poems, poemts that followed me around for years. I read "These Colors are Scheming" poem. It ended with Gold and Joann wanted me to read that part over.
"Gold is what is left behind. Gold is what remains in the gap on the bookshelf when the book is found. And Gold is in a return."

And tonight I found Gold. And there is the gap on the bookshelf where my book (my journal, my me) is found.

Right away I started writing in it, scribing parts of Isaiah down, I was looking for scripture I had found before.
But instead was this wholly other landscape of scripture. It was like I was reading another book.
the Lord was speaking to me these new things.
Before me flooding affimation after affirmation. repeating to me

I will answer you.
I will help you.
I will strengthen you.
I will hold you with my righteous right hand.
Do not be afraid.
I will life you. I will lift you.
I will lift up a banner.