What Shall I Render To You?

Lately, I've been drawn to the broken shells at the ocean's edge. Even in brokenness, there is beauty.

"What Shall I Render?"

By Melanie Dorsey

What shall I render to You?
Like the mountains I melt in Your presence.
My inner parts laid bare.

What shall I render to You?
My roots are firmly planted.
Your pruning pains, yet a promise of fruit.

What shall I render to You?
In a desert, still there are hidden springs.
No mirage; It is You.

What shall I render to You?
Broken and fragmented.
In silence, lips move, “Beautiful.”

Primal Cry ~ Morning Poetry & Update

"Primal Cry"

by Melanie Dorsey

Some days I want to run away
Escape into tomorrow
To what I hope are better days
Put away the bread of sorrow.

An end to images and voices
And chilling disbelief
Accepting what I feared imagine
Spirit prayer for some relief

Truly understanding
There is no one but You
With naked soul and quivering lip
Not run away, but to.

To the highest place
My feet can climb
To the deepest sea
Where I am blind.

Whether in the sun
Or darkest blue
My primal cry
Will be for You.

(photo by Linda Charlene)

~~~~

A family update

My husband ~ working, loving me, loving us, my greatest fan and biggest supporter, missing Andrew in a BIG way

My daughter ~ took some time out from school, working at the YMCA, tutoring, running, biking, swimming, making music, hanging out with ME!

My son ~ making the grades, making music, thinking deep thoughts, asking questions (the tough ones), parkour, longboarding, running for Jr. class prez

Ted ~ always a mixed bag with him, makes us smile, makes us mad, makes some messes, "makes up with us" and then we tell him he's the cutest, smartest, funniest pup ever!

Me ~ so very thankful for friends, especially the ones who don't seem to mind when I ramble, lose my train of thought, and have harebrained schemes that involve them and that may or may not involve a video camera (You know who you are!), grateful that God is patient with me and people are, too.

Exploring the best way (all things considered) that I can begin to bring in some $$$.
Full of nervous energy and cannot sit still, write poetry so my head will not explode, still don't like washing the pots and pans, really needing to mop my floors but will probably go to the beach instead!

Andrew ~ worshipping our Lord, saving our spots in Heaven, skateboarding, painting and playing with his dogs!

"Still" ~ Morning Poetry

"Still"

by Melanie Dorsey

I’m still here.
And that, alone, may be testament to Your Grace.
I’m still missing.
Though loss here stirs more desire to see Your face.

I’m still singing.
Melodies and rhymes that ascend to Your Holy Place.
I’m still hoping.
Though mind and body wearies in this Earthly race.

Still, I trust.
Still, I know.
Still,You Are.

Let Love Flow.

Still.

(photo ~ by Linda Charlene)

~~~

This week's blog forecast ~ fun, fashionable and frugal! (You've got to see it to believe it.)

There Is A Place ~ Morning Poetry

"There Is A Place"

by Melanie Dorsey

There is a place
Where there are no takers.
No hands raise
Like the elementary child
Who wants to hear,
“I see your hand.”
“You are the one.”

There is a place
Where dreams are dashed.
No hearts would go
Lest they were sent.
An off beat military
Who march to sounds
The rest can’t fathom.

There is a place
Where joy is fleeting.
No sure tomorrow
Lets fear be prey.
Forehead creases,
Ears keep straining
Listen for familiar timbre.

There is a place
Where still I stand
No captor’s easy spoil.
Let this heart
Beat an upward song.
“I see Your hands.”
“You are the One.”

(photo by Linda Charlene)

Winged Man ~ Morning Poetry

When I reread this "Gideon" post (3/4/09) today, I wanted to get some words out of my head and onto paper. (photo by Linda Charlene)

"Winged Man"

by Melanie Dorsey

~~~

Wheat in a winepress
Little man’s solution.
Themeing,
Scheming.
Tribal survival,
In need of revival.
“Winged Man, arrive.”

Word from the Holy One
A mind revolution.
Ceasing,
Fleecing.
In fear of the unknown,
In mind of the well known.
Winged Man arrives.

Weak in a wild place
Pain’s evolution.
Fearful,
Tearful.
Fetal
In a dark room.
“Winged Man, arrive.”

Worn in the waiting
Offering oblation.
In spite of the unknown,
In loss of the well known.
Blind
In the God womb.
Winged Man arrives.

No Box! ~ Morning Poetry

No Box!

by Melanie Dorsey

A box cannot contain my love for you nor who you are.
Not any kind of box.
Not the ones that will store clothes and toys and boy stuff.
Not the one that holds a jar of clay in a place it hurts to see your name.
Andrew C. Dorsey.
It seems so wrong.
It hurts so much.
But listen!
Listen to my heart.
The place where names are eternal,
That’s where your name belongs and is.
In a book, not on a box .
In a book, not on a name plate under the red flowers.
In a book, the Lamb’s Book,
Where Eternal Life has signed your name.
Andrew Christopher Dorsey

~~~~~

(photograph by Linda Charlene)

The UPS man just came. Only 2 labels. So one box left here. Thank you for praying. It was hard. I told the man. I cried. He said he was sorry. Me, too.

Edited ~ "REMAIN" ~ Morning Poetry & Pictures

Edited to add ~ The medical supply place in Gainesville sent boxes for us to return the medical stuff...wheelchair (hate typing that), feeding pump, i.v. stand (hate typing that, too). The boxes came a few days ago and startled me because I couldn't remember what it was for. They had Andrew's name on the label and it totally confused me for most of the day. Then it dawned on me.

Today, without warning, the UPS truck came for the boxes. We didn't have them ready. I cannot look at these things. I asked my husband to put them all in the garage weeks ago...8 weeks ago.

I haven't asked for prayer in awhile. I am asking now. My husband will have to do all of this because I just can't. But the UPS man will be back tomorrow and I will be here alone. I will have to get the boxes to him and I am so afraid of seeing those boxes. My heart beats faster and I get hot and choked up just thinking about it. So, I just need prayer for myself...for our family.

Thank you.

update to above ~ He is boxing the stuff right now. I will leave them in the garage and when the UPS man comes, I will just raise the garage door. It will be ok.

"Remain"

by Melanie Dorsey

Empty vessels,

Jars of clay
We are yours.
Have your way.
In us,
Around us,
Beneath us,
Everywhere.
In dancing,
In mourning.
Fill.
Empty.

But remain.

(photo by Linda Charlene)

Just going through some pictures...


So Andrew...I just love him...and oh...how I miss him.



The Fam...in Gruene, TX
Short-haired girl, shaggy boys!
That T-shirt One Fine Man is wearing is one of 2 I have threatened to burn. I have just seen enough of them...especially 2 years in a row in our Thanksgiving pic! But, I sure love the man inside the T.

(taken spring -09...before the nightmare began)

'Can't help lovin' that man of mine...

One Fine Man sent me the sweetest email from work yesterday. He is so patient with me. I have books everywhere, get the bed made maybe 2 x a week, leave dishes in the sink until a burst of adrenaline hits me...and I'm pretty much a mess most of the time now. But he loves me.