Faith / Fanciful

Nehemiah was cup-bearer to the King.

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Sometimes, on some days, I drive my car un-mapped through the city;
I weave through Detroit free of any direction except for the basic understanding of
north-south-east-west.

Yesterday was one of those days.

The air was mild, the sky clear,
And I drove with my windows down and my arm out-stretched and my hair blowing
in the fall-fresh air.

The radio was off so I could hear the beauty more intently.

I love this stupid city for so many reasons–
I love its jazzy memories of young love and autos and fresh architecture;
I love the new dreams held in broken buildings and torn streets…and raised-bed gardens.

And so I drive.

I would love to own a building here
And start my own raised-bed garden and city-ed chickens and sunflowers rising to the sky;
Bike these streets, work hard, love hard.

But, I don’t know if that will ever even happen.

So, I just drive through the city,
Like Nehemiah, circling with hope that things will be made clear again
By a God who can provide direction.

And, in His silence, I wait and listen and watch.
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