{worth}

Under a bed hidden and stuffed.  Wrestled and lodged behind drawer casings crumpled.  Snookered and sideways like the car keys amid empty gum wrappers and old grocery lists.  

{cluttered} 

My March has made more of me; it has demanded me to define.  And, like a passenger just de-boarding my midnight flight, I hurry up only to wait.   Antsy and eager for the merry-go-round of identical black suitcases to commence just to find the luggage tag that designates the mark of me.

The mark of me.

  {worth}

The word is moving and subtle.  It commands the center of my soul even at first glance.  I often wonder how each of us finds our way nearer to this 5 letter way of life.

March was my month to stare worth directly in the eyes.  Our pupils, jet black & common, locked briefly and then time & again I was forced to avert from his stable stare as my salty tears were thick and made for a clouded view.

Human life is one big chance.

It's God's shiny quarters dropping one-by-one into your parking meter.   What will you do with the elapsed time the round George Washingtons allot you?  What will your out do with what is on your in?  I dream of balance and poise, of center and evens.  I relish the rush of potential energy anxious and able.

Able.

{worth}

And, I watch fervently for my luggage tag; the mark of me.

March asked me to define.  It expected me to stretch to my tippiest of toes in search of {worth}.

{mine}

Under a bed hidden and stuffed.  Wrestled and lodged behind drawer casings crumpled.  Snookered and sideways like the car keys amid empty gum wrappers and old grocery lists.  

{cluttered} 

I reached up; I looked out; I prayed within.  I wanted my answers concrete and majestic.

My worth hides not in the concealer used to cover and the locks I choose to lighten.  Its presence is not my status or my style.

And, as He dropped another few into my meter this month, I felt His urgency. It seemed to grow in magnitude and strength the further March progressed.  Insecure, I scrambled and wanted so badly to stop this stare down with worth.  I wanted to disengage and rebuke the hard lines and lessons of just who I am.

And, force fixed, I peered once again at the baggage carousel waiting to spot my luggage tag.

The mark of me.

Crowded-like all the way to the very edges of my soul, He was.  My search was so very revealing and honestly intense.  Overwhelmed with emotion, angst and an unnatural serenity from above, I lept. Into His arms, I lept with all the indecisiveness and uncertainty of me.  My flaws and faults, my guesses and games, I gave in.  His urgency had found something.

Under a bed hidden and stuffed.  Wrestled and lodged behind drawer casings crumpled.  Snookered and sideways like the car keys amid empty gum wrappers and old grocery lists.  

{cluttered} 

My worth damaged and torn.
      

My value is in what He provides me.  It is me giving over my weak and watching Him work.

My March has made more of me; it has demanded me to define.  And, like a passenger just de-boarding my midnight flight, I hurry up only to wait.   Antsy and eager for the merry-go-round of identical black suitcases to commence just to find the luggage tag that designates the mark of me.

My mark is not perfect. It falls short and finds fault.  But my worth is everything for the glory of God.  May He have many quarters left for my meter.

My ensemble:

• tank (GAP) 1/2 off Goodwill $.25     
• pants (Patagonia)  1/2 off Goodwill $1.25

TOTAL ENSEMBLE INVESTMENT:  $1.50

My mission: {worth}

My status:  * * * (3 out of 5 stars)  This one is tough for me.

My memories:  I am enough.

.mac