Low Rising

Jesus, two weeks ago I prayed that you would be yourself with me.

After that I felt convicted that I was holding too tightly to my possessions – mainly clothing – and resolved to give my clothes away at the next possible opportunity. “Show me who I can give my clothes to” I said.

Well, Jesus, you certainly came, showed up, and blew me out of the water. You said, yeah Brianna, it’s nice that you’re “ready” to give your clothes away – but I want you to hold everything in this world with open hands.

Two days later a pipe burst in our house and flooded from the third floor down to the basement, causing water damage in about half of our residence. We sat in the living room that morning, after ripping up the wet carpets till 3am the night before in hopes to save the hardwood floors from warping. We drank coffee together and listened to the worries my mom was expressing over the money that this was going to cost and the amount of damage that took place, how hunter’s graduation party was in two weeks and the house wouldn’t be ready.

I stopped and let my family in on the coincidence of my conviction days prior concerning my possessions. We reflected on how you work, God, in our lives and continually teach us lessons through real life situations. How kind of miraculous it is to notice that you were working in that very moment. My mom continued to notice the difficulties that the flood was presenting for us as a family and showing obvious worry over the whole situation. Jesus you gave me boldness and faith.

I said to my mother “I believe that God is going to provide us with enough insurance money. He’s going to be like – here you go – I’m taking care of you, and just put it in our lap.” Alyssa agreed and said for some reason she felt at peace about the whole thing. Maybe that’s because we weren’t paying mortgage on the house, maybe because it was your Spirit giving us what you promised. “The Lord is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in Him” says Nahum 1:7.

Later that day the insurance guys came to estimate and calculate the damage to let us know what our next step needed to be. Through their consultation we were informed that the damage was worse than we initially thought, there was lead in the paint, we couldn’t be in the house when they were demoing and I definitely needed to be out of the house as soon as possible. This was because I had lung issues a few years back and they traced it to mold, dust mite and pet allergies. While the men explained these things and their little machines told us which walls had water and which walls would remain, we didn’t really know what to do with ourselves. We just knew we were going to be making a lot of changes over night.

Alyssa and I started packing my van with the things I already had packed from moving home from college. I had barely unpacked so it was pretty simple. God you were preparing me to handle the transition through teaching me how to live on the go; by moving to college, back home for the summer, to college, to camp.

We were thinking of where we could sleep that night, and Alyssa immediately thought of the apartment that she planned on moving in to with Tim after they get married in October. About two weeks prior, Alyssa had informed my parents that she intended to move in to this apartment in August, in order to avoid the stress of moving while starting her new job at Valley in September. She wondered if it would be possible for her and me to move in to the apartment now until I go back to school mid-august. God, your hand was so clearly over our living situation – you want to give your children good things, comfortable things.

The landlady, Veronica, was away on business in Germany that week. Alyssa got a hold of her and Veronica was more than happy to let us move in as soon as we could. She gave Alyssa access to the apartment over the phone and even extended her empty house to accommodate our family’s needs. God, you bless through the body of Christ. This woman has been a faithful servant at our home church for many years. I pray you would shower her in your wondrous grace for what she gives so freely to others.

Three days prior to the pipe bursting, I stumbled upon an ad for a paid internship for content writing with DialAmerica for the summer. I received a call back from my resume not three hours after sending it, and scheduled an interview for Monday at 2. Little did I know I would be moving my life in to the van Monday morning. I felt like maybe I shouldn’t go to the interview because of how hectic things were and what it would be like to start a new job on top of it all. My family encouraged me to go anyway.

I stopped at Starbucks and sat with a grande Zen tea, trying to focus on my strengths and weaknesses. They always ask that question in an interview, right? With my life in the back of the van, I talked to You, Jesus about how good you are, and you filled me with joy. I walked in to the interview confident and was able to not bring any discouragement or disarray with me. I am still waiting to hear back from them on whether or not I am hired, but I trust that God will open or close the door for the better.

When I got back to the house our friends, John and Jess, were ready with 2 mattresses and their vehicle to help us move Alyssa and I up to the apartment. Many hands make light work and hearts serving Christ serve each other. We took one trip up to the apartment, and then were blessed by the hospitality of our lifetime family friends, the VanLentens. They had us over for a home cooked meal pretty last minute. While talking over dinner, they offered their backyard and house for us to host Hunter’s graduation party. What a great family of believers we are surrounded by – who genuinely grasp the concept of loving their neighbor and giving their possessions.

Alyssa and I settled in to the apartment through another set of disguised blessings. Alyssa’s fiancé, Tim, had lived on his own for a few years after college. He moved back to his parents house after a change of jobs. That meant his basement was full of the essentials for living, all boxed and ready to use; couches, side tables, kitchen appliances, Tupperware, bath mats, towels…you name it. We are at no loss for comfort and we didn’t have to worry for a second what we would be cooking our eggs in. God, you see everything in advance and know exactly what we need – you orchestrate our lives so perfectly, and although we don’t see the whole picture most times – we can trust that.

Hunter, Reagan, Mom and Dad have been living in a hotel for the past week and have been told they will be displaced for atleast 2 months while our house is renovated. Hunter graduated high school and is moving to Boston on June 30, and his needs will be provided for just as perfectly there.

My parents were told that insurance is covering everything from demo to renovation, even food while they are inconvenienced.

When Alyssa and I went food shopping for the apartment for the first time, she asked me if I minded putting the money out for the bill. She said she would pay me back once she got paid next. I said not to worry about it, it was a blessing that I even had money enough to pay for anything, seeing as a month ago I had 40$ in my bank account. God has provided me with a job and the time to save up a little, just in the past few weeks. I told her that she didn’t have to pay me back, I just trust that God will provide the money. I told her when we got in the car in the Shoprite parking lot that I thought we should save our receipts from food to keep track of how much money we spend.

Last night at dinner Dad asked if we saved our food receipts. We said yes and he told us that he was going to take them to the insurance company and they would reimburse us for what we spend on food. He said because we weren’t supposed to be out of the house paying for our own food, they would cover that cost. God, you did it again.

How could I invest any time in doubt or worry when you so blatantly show you are in control of every single thing and on top of that want to bless your children?

My family, when telling this story, says that God can use a bad thing to bring so much good. However, I think we need to start by not referring to the flood as a bad thing. God, you can only create good, and I believe that this was so curiously orchestrated by you. I think you answered my prayer, that you decided to be yourself with me, and show me how creatively and unexpectedly you can use whatever you want in this world to bring glory honor and praise to you. I get chills seeing your creativity – I would never have thought of a flood! It wasn’t the first time you did ;)

Lord, Father, Protector, Healer, Sustainer – you are teaching me that when we speak our faith and believe you have the power, and WILL do it – You DO! You are a miraculous person and I can’t wait to experience more of you.

When I sit on leather

the gap in your tooth

and the band in your hair

stick out in my memory like

the smell of the first time

we held hands and your feet kissed

the edge of the stream

the sun kissed the back of my neck

i saw the shadow of yesterday in

the june of your eyes

reaping dandelion weeds

a cicada shelter

a gardeners worst nightmare

yellow school bus

and you in your white jumper

the sweet wheat grass

and the Crickets

chirp trick jumping

intimate grass touching

with the help of the breeze

its funny how the rain

melts the walls

The Artist's Creed

My eyes breathe

They desire a gulp of canyon

But only get a lick of crayon

Pits burdened under the Atlantic’s ass

Cannot speak their enduring tale

They silently heave

Enduring, while I color with Crayola

In a silly attempt to replicate

The sunrise I saw last evening

The day my marker tastes like lemon

Bleeds June raindrops

Rakes sandy brown desert

Over the 8x11 standard canvas

Will I flatten to a two-dimensional

Black and white shape

Sacrifice my pulse 

And die happy

In Loving Memory

 

Gravity weighs down on me

Heavier than yesterday

On this 98º afternoon

The fleshy sun pushes

My shoulders towards dry

Earth thwarting greater

Than last night

I ate the officers

Radish bitter message

A scorching heat

Wave of mortality

Trickled down my throat

I still taste

The cancer I digested

The hollowed out ovaries

Swallowed skin of the fruit

And all

Gravity caved in

The arctic middle –

The fleshy pomegranate core

Seeded and scarlet

Wounded, no less

She collapsed from the meaty pressure

Folded in on herself

And left me sweating on this

Hellish hot earth without

Any sweet relief

Lingfield Park

I listen to the drumming beat of my heart in the hollow canal of both ears. A deafening sound reminds me I am not dead. I can’t move, yet felt compelled to lay down at the dizzying frenzy called celebration. A maddening sore like an oozing infected splinter pokes my gut. 

I can’t grasp the light weight feather of hope that seems to tie my special needs brother to the sky every waking moment.  What is it that he lives for? Birthday celebrations only come once a year. Yet today he blinks with no less elation than the 13 years leading up to this one. Crunching, pouncing death seems to lurk under each unblown candle that sits upon his cake. His morbid breath creeps with the wind through the trees above the picnic table. He shrinks your shoulders down under the oppressive August heat. Death reminds me before I have a moment to forget, that he is still, and would always be grumbling.

Grumbling in the earth, grumbling in my stomach, grumbling in my brother’s throat with a low pitched tick from the turrets. 

Luke blows out his thirteen candles, spitting all over the dolphin blue icing. Mom tied dolphin balloons to the edge of the two picnic tables. They squirmed uncomfortably, unnoticed by the scarce attendance of extended family. Aunt Jillian and Uncle Tom bolted, after their three kids effectively painted their faces blue in a hasty attempt to eat and run. That left Aunt Lucy and my scrawny cousin Mark who would rather be doing jailtime for possession of marijuana than at his retarded cousin’s birthday party.

Someone forgot to anchor down the stack of dolphin napkins, blowing a scattered paper sea of animals through Lingfield Park. Mom throws confetti on Luke and shows him how to blow in to the party hat to make a funny honking sound. The grumbling haunts again. 

I force down a piece of blue cake and stick my food colored tongue out at my brother. He claps and smiles with all five of his teeth, the smile my mother refuses to have fixed. I watch as Sean pleads with his mother to please leave. I watch her concerned and awkward side glace towards my ridiculous brother. I watch as she turns in the opposite direction of his loud groans and flailing arms, silent. Mom is too engaged in drinking up all of Luke’s enjoyment to notice her sister Lucy walking swiftly behind Mark towards their silver Nissan.

The man across the street mows his lawn. I watch him with my fists under my chin. The machine moves across the lawn in neat rows, conforming each blade of grass to exactly the same size. The man wipes his brow with the side of his short sleeved shirt. He must be hot without the shade. His lips are pursed, I imagine he’s whistling. I help mom by cutting the tail piece of the blue dolphin and place it in front of Luke. 

“For me?” He smiles, jumping as much as the benched picnic table allows his over sized thighs. 

The day lets out a heavy breeze to relieve the hanging humidity. A rustle in the tree shading us chimes with the tang of the mower. My mother laughs. Lucy keys the ignition. Death grumbles. For me?

Birthday

To live we need to breathe
Duct tape your wifes crow smile
To see we listen with intent
Her pecked out pupils
Flower death
Taste the June grass
Afront her jubilent tombstone
Cradle the child
She birthed, name him rape

A Dozen Roses

Your sunken chest smells like
Pink in purple hues

Rooted roller

Coaster never rising

Or falling

The night of our anniversary

You called Melinda

When you came

But it was my body that led

You there just put the dandelion

In cruise control and hope

For the best save the ink

In your ball point for the next

Hollow apology