Sail On, Joni

Lam. 3:24-25 The LORD is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him.

The LORD is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him.

Time heals all wounds

That is one of the biggest lies I’ve ever heard. Time might heal the part of you that was wounded but as proof the hurt existed, you’re left with a scar. I have a scar on my left wrist with a whole lot of stitches and the scar nor the memory of the three-year-old that incurred the scar has ever healed and went away. 

I always joke and say that my sister had it in for me from birth when I took her place as being the ‘baby’ of the family but more and more as time and years pass, it’s no longer the funny that I thought it was back then. As my past comes back to haunt me and the wounds resurface as the scars metaphorically reopen to leak blood onto the written page, the anguish along the lines come with the broken path.

The choppy waves are hurtling me so to speak, in a way I had not anticipated. You see, when you’re finding healing, you move forward and help others like you to move on in life. Sharing the same hurts and pains with another is just a way of being in tune and picking up the spiritual channels that drew you, as friends, together on the same wavelength in the first place. 

I have a circle of friends that I met, maybe at first it was writing that drew us together but as the years go on I tend to learn more about the people and the common thread that ties us all together. More times than not it was God and His mighty power that drew us all together in one way or another because He knew we’d need and rely on one another for support to get us through those choppy waves where we felt all alone out on the sea.

A man came to my rescue thirteen years ago and as the sea began moving to and fro the waves crashed all around leaving me with somewhat of a disillusionment until we both reached a shore where we could be at peace with one another and grow. Any lesser of a man would have dumped me a long time ago with all of my insecurities, paranoia and anxiety-filled world but my now husband is still here, holding my hand through all of this. While I accept his quirks and unsavory characteristics, I find we are a scale that has balanced one another nicely. 

God placed new people, a new life, a new beginning in front of me that I embraced and soared with so as not to look back, only occasionally look down at the scars and remember from whence they came. All too often the scars are from the family I left behind. And when I hear people say things like, ‘it is the only family you’ll ever have.’ I’ll have to disagree because it may be the only blood family I have but my new loving family that God placed me with doesn’t leave scars of abuse in their trails to be reckoned with. 

Sure, my friends can be blunt and unknowingly hurt my feelings but that is okay because I learn from them and find healing in their spoken words whereas my blood family cuts to the bone of my existence and holds no shame or offers anything that remotely looks like an apology. I can’t help the family I was put into but I can embrace the family I have now as a blessing and THIS is why I will remain an optimist because I have HOPE in every tomorrow. A wobbled walk or not, I’m alive and I breathe in each new sunrise and thank the Lord for the friends I call my spiritual family that I have surrounding me here in my later years. (later to me) This is the childhood I yearned for, the one that will walk with me to my death and mourn the me that they’ve grown with and have come to love and respect.

My long lost friend who called me did say something that I found to be true. He said, “You were never allowed to be a child. You were made to grow up too soon.” 

While the wound seeped open I remembered with loving care the family of friends I have now who will comfort me during this seepage. While God is my Rock, they are the sand that this mighty wave crashes onto to find relief.  

Lam. 3:26-29 It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the LORD. It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth.

He sitteth alone and keepeth silence, because he hath borne it upon him.

He putteth his mouth in the dust; if so be there may be hope.

Crash and Burn

Luke Luke 7:13 And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not.
***

Yeah that basically sums up the week I’ve had. In the writing world, the f2k class has come to an end and I have to admit, this was one of the busiest sessions that I’ve lived through.

When normally the classes drop to a smidgen of folks hanging on by week six, this session saw all the classes at almost full capacity for the duration. We lost a few due to circumstances: colds, flu, pneumonia and life grabbing hold of them and carrying them away from us. But for the duration, it has been post after post, reading after reading, lesson upon lesson, feedback and more feedback.

I’m drained. I have to admit, this session took it’s toll with all of the drama in my reality grabbing me by the throat and trying to pin me down. But I kept persevering. I think June would have told me, “Keep it up, Joni, You can do it!” Funny how I keep hearing June’s voice in my head. lol That is not a bad thing because she is MY mentor when it comes to getting sidetracked in writing!

This week was no different than the other seven weeks of f2k. Monday as we were driving home, Adam and I spotted a burning house. I didn’t have my phone on me and mom was wondering if it was a barn or a controlled burn. At eight thirty in the evening, I’ve never really witnessed a controlled burning taking place.

We stopped, backed up, almost into the very ditch that tried eating me alive last year, and we approached the house. Easing into the driveway, we saw that the HOME was well on it’s way to burning down. From behind us, a truck raced onto the scene into another driveway and he went around to the back of the house.

Flames lapping up the wall as if to drink every last fiber of the wood’s moisture, crackling embers were flying all around. I couldn’t sit and wait. I jumped out of the car but I couldn’t get around to where the man was, he was on the phone calling 911, I shouted out to him with small flames dancing from the second floor shooting chunks of embers, “Is there anybody in the house?” He was rubbing his forehead with pain written all over his firelit face. No answer.

Tears forming in my eyes. I assessed the house and knew this was not a safe place to be. The entire second floor was being eaten by flames! Not hearing any screams, cries, or whimpers from animals, trembling I got back in the car and we drove home. I stood on my front steps and almost a quarter of a mile away the house was burning. I waited to see flashing lights come to the scene and what seemed like an hour but was about five heartbreaking minutes, the flashing lights appeared.

The next day, to get those haunting images out of my head, I had to go back to the scene to see the devastation. A total loss. The entire upstairs of the house as well as the back wall were gone. I looked through what once was the door I was going to bang on and saw complete emptiness. Chunks of burnt wood layed strewn about, brown water marks running down the front barely standing wall, all windows shattered and the house, now a lost ghost town where once stood a families home.

Drama seems to follow me...what with my dog getting hit by a truck, the month long of nursing her back to health, the joy of seeing my family via a webcam, the hectic f2k, and the house burning down. All a day/week/month in the life of Joni.

911~ A day that altered life

Isa. 64:2 As when the melting fire burneth, the fire causeth the waters to boil, to make thy name known to thine adversaries, that the nations may tremble at thy presence!

***

It’s all about numbers. 911 was the time and date that the hearts of the evil men decided on the fate of our country to go through a horrendous devastating blow. They pulled it off, in a splendor that even amazed them as witnesses.

I lived in Baltimore Maryland at the time of the 911 trauma. I remember the year before on Sept. 11th, they had closed down The World Trade Center at the Inner Harbor because apparently they feared an attack from an outside source. In 2001, they didn’t take these precautions and within seconds of the plane crashes, the world fell silent.

I remember watching as Katie Couric and Matt Lauer announced... “This just in, a plane has crashed into the World Trade Center.” Camera’s were quick to the scene watching the events unfold on the screen for all the world to see.

Were my thoughts, Oh my, a horrible accident? No, my thoughts went immediately to, this was intentional. I bowed my head and began praying. I slid to the floor as my knees buckled from under me, I fell into a kneeling prayer. More and more news came in as another plane hit the tower, and the Pentagon and another plane went down in a field. At that moment, my life was forever altered.

The souls gathered, they roamed, they were confused and lost. Wandering, they looked for home, sought out a place to move onto, found shelter in the hearts of the living who might, just maybe open a door for them. All that they wanted was peace for their shocked system.

I no longer felt a part of this world. I felt my spirit being lifted higher and higher. My marriage of eighteen years, which had been solid, had fallen on a rocky quagmire. Days passed and I felt like a new life was being breathed into my spirit. I no longer wanted a world wrought in pain for my then five almost six year old son. I no longer wanted a solitary life of mundane routine. I wanted life; the breathtaking life that God intended for me to begin with when he created me. A year and a half later, my marriage toppled, much like those buildings.

God gifted me with a talent and I was determined to use it to my fullest capacity within the four walls that I had built for myself. My prayer, my gift, my life, altered by a day in history. Unlike any other day in history, this one changed more than many were witness to; it shifted a mental consciousness. The tragedy drew on our strength and weaknesses producing either anger and hate, or love and hope. Very little had hope. Many either found or strengthened in faith! But, it also bred hatred and immorality to the highest degree.

On this anniversary of the number one tragedy of our time, I will pray for those who hate; I will bow my head and pray for love to sweep the nation; I will hope that our lives will be altered in a positive way, instead of the negative that we so easily choose.

I will pray for YOU, and I will pray for ME!

Lamentations 3:20-23

I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. (NIV)

Poetry Sunday

The Revenge of the Sea

I set ‘asail a calming sea

it called to me one day.

I went to find a peace within

I knew would come my way.



I mellowed on the deck below

my tiny boat was swaying.

My mind was playing tricks on me

with thoughts that I was weighing.



The blackened sky whispered sounds,

a rumbling from afar

It sounded as if God Himself

had left the door ajar.



I rushed up top just in time

to see the clouds were rippling.

The thrashing of the eager waves

made guidance very crippling.



The squall was just above me now;

clouds seemed to descend

upon this tiny boat of mine,

On which I now depend.



Droplets of rain grazed my face

I began to sense a peace.

For in this shroud of turmoil.

The sea's revenge will cease.



A glimpse of golden streams I see.

A beacon to hold my stare.

All at once I realized,

The storm was never there.



Copyright © joni zipp