I write to remember

I am increasingly intrigued by memoirs.  

I just re-read Ian Cron*s achingly beautiful awful God-filled memoir (Jesus, My Father, the CIA, and Me: a memoir... of sorts)  Earlier this month I read Jennifer Grant*s new book Love You More, which honors herself and her family with grace and truth.  

Both of these memoirs carry redemption between their covers.  I am awed.

I write to remember what I see, so I won*t  forget. I write to piece things together hopefully with room to breathe in between the lines.

I write to remember

What I see

What I saw.

I write to hold some of it

in words

So I don*t forget,

Don*t lose myself in pretending

It never happened,

God never spoke in words

Or even the still small voice

That echoes.

I write not to forget.

Today is different somehow

And the same;

Today, as yesterday,

 God still speaks.

I write to remember this,

Catalogue the still small voice

Me at the mouth of the cave

Still afraid,

But watching

Listening

Still writing.