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what you need

1 June 2011

We have been here so many times before and I thought we had finally moved on. But, I suppose I’ve thought that every other time we’ve been here. I wish I could just drive you around until we get somewhere.

I could swear I saw a glimmer of life in your eyes and heard a glitter of life in your laughter but now they are dead and hollow again. It makes me wonder if I am going crazy, too.

You just need the open fields, waving grass, and blue skies, momma, with birds flying and calling. You just need to remember the taste of freedom. You need an old school church revival with whoopin’ and hollerin’. We’ll wear our best calico and bonnets. C’mon, momma, there’s freedom in the Spirit. If Jesus can make the blind man see and the lame man walk, why don’t you have any hope? I’ll play the fiddle if you play the pipes; we’ll dance this sorrow away. C’mon, momma, there’s life to be livin’. Just open your mouth, momma, just open your mouth an’ sing a little.

Those white washed walls and old tile floors won’t help you sing. They are barring your soul into your chest. That’s not where it belongs, momma. It belongs in the sky, flitting between the clouds where you can see the sun. Can you see the sun, momma? Do they open the windows and let you see the sky? Cuz that’s what you were made for.

I’m not crazy. I’m a lot like you, but I’m not crazy and neither are you. Can’t you see that you were made for something more? When I was a lot shorter and was a lot smarter, I remember seeing your eyes sparkle in the sunlight when you saw pretty things. I remember how much you love to travel. They tell me that I’m a lot like you. I look like you did when you were my age. I sounds a lot like you. And I’ve got your brains. But, momma, where’d all that go? I remember you used to tell me about Jesus and all he’s done for you.

I want to take your hand and lead you running through the fields. We could laugh and dance and sing… our skirts flowing with the breeze and the grass tickling our ankles, our souls as harnessable as the wind, our hearts as full as the ocean. I want to see you live again, momma, I want to hear you laugh.

Momma, all you need is Jesus and I just want you to remember that with your heart.

One Comment leave one →
  1. Tracie permalink
    23 October 2011 14:02

    Oh my goodness, Danike. This rips my heart out. I think of your Mom often and pray for her and for you. What you have written here is so insightful and wise and true. Especially the truth that she isn’t crazy and neither are you. There’s more I want to say, but everyone just walked into the room, so I’ll comment on your other post that really touched me later.

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