Insignificant

I wrote this poem during a heart struggle, recognizing finally, a deep wound. A feeling of insignificance that colors my interactions with others and brings grief and anger when I experience a slight or perceive someone's greater importance. I called it pride, until my sister, Naomi, suggested pulling up that weed of pride and noticing what lay buried under those roots. The word, insignificant, came to my lips almost immediately, without thought or study. Later that day I was moved to give word to what I was feeling:

Sit in your chair
you ordinary insignificant fifth girl
Behave yourself
Read your Bible every day
Clean and dust; do the dishes
Empty the wash tubs
Braid your hair
Cover your knees
Be quiet, behave, be good
One day you might be a
missionary or a Sunday School teacher
And surely, someone's submissive wife.

There is freedom and release in recognizing one's self. There is love and grace in the embrace of my true self, even those feelings of insignificance. For in the denial of those feelings, are buried the seeds of anger and contempt that fill my gut, and spew from my mouth.

I No Longer Fear

I no longer fear the dropping shoe
They’ve both dropped—or should I say all?

And here I am.

Dropping shoes are a sure part of the journey—

The waiting, the dropping, the picking up again—

Weaves a blanket so incredibly mine

It warms me at night and 

Wraps around my shoulders as I walk through my day.

The bruises and the scars from the 

Falling down and getting up and falling down again

Can be covered with long sleeves in shame

Or worn defiantly like tattoos

Mementos to those dropping shoes that now bring smile to lips

and streaming tears in the telling

For now I know

Or should I say that I am learning

That cracks and broken pieces are the bearers of light and joy

When one sits down on the couch with them

And turns toward them with accepting embrace

And asks what brings you here, or maybe what gift do you come bearing?

Almost 3 years ago I wrote a post Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop. Time passes and our understanding and wisdom deepens. I'm seeing now the connection between sorrow and joy in life; dropping shoes just might be opportunities or invitations to something new. It's a work in process, but inspired by some recent Lenten reading and introspection, I put the above words to paper.

Nancy Perkins