knots and responsibility

Human beings are amazing.
living intelligence
flesh and blood thought.
Incredible

But they can really
drive me crazy
Well, almost

Their thoughts are like
big balls of knotted yarn
And somehow I'm responsible
to unknot them
Somehow I'm responsible to
sort things out
and makes things clear

I'm the Interpretor
And I don't want to do that anymore
I'm really tired of all that
the responsibility
It's not fun anymore
if it ever was

I just want to take my ball
and go home
and shut the door

For good

Untying endless knots for the knotters
Trying to fix all the boo-boos
Yeah, I'm gonna lay down that heavy load, Lord
I ain't gonna carry it anymore
I don't want the responsibility
I can't take the responsibility
it's crushing me

I just want to BE
I want to be a dreamer
I want to be an 'artist'
I want to be a 'dancer'
I don't want to be God anymore
I don't want to be The Keeper of the Knots

So here, God, here's the ball of yarn
with it's endless, endless, endless knots
Here, You take it, it's all Yours
I need a break
I need to breathe
because no one can buy
a stairway to heaven

I don't want to think anymore
I don't want to try and figure anything out
I don't want to ponder, question, wonder
I don't want to investigate, analyze, sort, categorize, file-ize
I'm so very very tired of all of that
Endless mazes filled with endless questions

I guess as long as I have THE question settled
all the rest really doesn't matter all that much
anyway

I just want to REST and RELAX and BE
for awhile
Rest and relax and be.... mmm, yes
I really like the sound of that
Yeah, I really like the way that makes me FEEL

Ha, maybe it's called death?
Yeah, maybe
Death to Adoring, life to God

It's clear I definitely need to learn
how to just SOAK and BE
and leave the rest to Him
all the endless questions
where they're safe and sound

No more thinking
more absorbing
more be-ing

Lay it down
lay it down
lay it all down

The Welcome

"Jesus came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to Him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what He said."

Mary, defined only by her relationships to Martha as "her sister", was placed under the eclipse of Martha's driving energy.
But Mary moved to sit in Another's shadow.
She took her place on the floor.

Mary received Him.

Martha only welcomed Him...
with loud applause and perhaps flamboyant pride.
He, the famous, came to her house.
It was spoken of as her house.

The proud deign to give by conspicuous generosity.
The humble -- aware only of gaunt poverty --
sit down to beg.

We have nothing to say to God but thank you.
No place to give Him but a home in our heart.
No gift to offer but unguarded receptivity.

Mary received Him... into life's only two treasures:
her heart and her time.
This was her house.

She gave Him the space to be Himself,
to define -- reveal -- His Own Splendid Being.

No others did that, not even the disciples who wanted
Him for the super hero of their imagination.

To Mary, He gave His secrets.
Busy little beavers building dams of safe protection,
have no time to woo His secrets from Him.

In the end, Martha found Him to be a
painful interruption of her contrivance --
an ungrateful intruder into her very soul.

She did not want to be perceived by God,
only by man.

It was really only Mary who gave Him the open invitation
to His own dominion.

It was after all... His house.

(from "Adoration" by Martha Kilpatrick)