southern belle.

[plansforlife]

i often think i would like the south. i don't know for certain, never having been below virginia, but i have the idea. the idea where the old man across the street is not a neighbor but a friend. his white hair and shaking hands infinitely comforting. where the girl that sits, chattering, across from me, in the open air of the restraunt over the river, looks a great deal like my little sister in twenty years. the bright skin of her youth made darker from the hot georgia sun. from the heat that rose in little invisible ripples off the cherry wood of the back porch were she would sit as a child. watching the harbor for the sight of some billowing white sail, pressing her ear against the screen door for the mention of her father. the short, chubby fingers made long, thin and graceful from afternoons of weaving reeds into crowns. the bright blue eyes now green and full of laughter from the flash of fireworks, the hum of electric blue bug lamps to keep the mosquitos from getting close enough to bite, and the joy of life. where the boy sitting across from her is much like myself, if i had not been so caught up with becoming so like everyone else. he's far more relaxed than i pretend to be. he doesn't have that curve in his lower back from sinking down in the chair, trying to make his pant legs reach past his ankles, afraid for people to know that he's a growing boy and won't fit into clothes properly for at least another six years. he his comfort and calm, the way he doesn't bother with taking the curls out of his hair and the way he is interested shown by the way he listens. he is a light that is humble before the weakest of sputtering candles but outshines a golden mississippi full moon. he is out of place. not because he doesn't belong in the south, but because he doesn't belong on the earth. i suppose you could say he is the image of who You want me to become. less of myself and more of the Son. i often think i would be at home in the south. i am more certain of it every day. but that won't be what brings about a change. it's Your paradise that i'm longing for and in the south i see a bit of the land where a man is rich because he is poor.
everything i want i'm comparing to You, 'and i'm preparing every part for Truth.'