Poetry Sunday: God's Healing Touch

Pss. 45:1 “My heart is inditing a good matter: I speak of the things which I have made touching the king: my tongue is the pen of a ready writer.”

Shimmering reflections of pain I feel 

Lost in fragments I needed to heal

A mending touch if truth be known

Is in His fingers pressing stone.

By chance, my aches towered then crashed

A mighty sword by flames were dashed

Slicing through with torments rage

Remnants bound in an open cage.

Not being confined by a limited view

My heart beheld all that was true

The night sky opened gems bedazzled

Made whole of me the frail and frazzled.

Armed with faith my body to restore

The strength therein the open door

No longer doomed by fate I’m driven

With all the tools that God has given.

I was blinded by mortal shame

And only had myself to blame 

Shaving off my arrogant pride

Unearthed the healing deep inside.

Once I freed confined vanity

Not veiled behind bent sanity

I relieved myself of the crutch

Bare I found God’s healing touch.

Job 37:23 “Touching the Almighty, we cannot find him out: he is excellent in power, and in judgment, and in plenty of justice: he will not afflict.”

They Ruin It...

Prov. 13:18 “Poverty and shame shall be to him that refuseth instruction: but he that regardeth reproof shall be honoured.”

They Ruin It…

They’ve [humans] ruined my relationship to church; it’s now relinquished to a place to show my face so I can come home and boast of how great the sermon and praise was. They’ve ruined what little trust I had in people by being more about the manipulative angle they can use to abuse me. They make drinking alcohol all about fun and games like it is just a second nature and fine to do without ramifications, they spread lies like mosquitoes spreading Lyme disease injecting their poisonous falsehoods for the world to see and STILL claim to be Christian. 

It is Christians, you know, the very good Christians that are destroying the religion, for ME. I have a faith in Jesus Christ and my Heavenly Father but I have zero faith in humankind. I don’t have faith in the churches because they are imploding while touting their growth. Church is no longer about God, it is about an opinionated what-you’re-doing-wrong drama. 

I read the headlines and the stories are unending of a collapsing society. I should say societies because this is happening worldwide and if you just happily ignore the succession of downfall going on around you, then to me, you are part of the problem. We are perverting society by accepting sin like candy from a dirty old man, it’s become the norm.

Evil is stampeding across the globe knocking down pillars that have been in place for centuries. I’m saddened not celebratory at all. Everything is about race, sexism, politics, shoot or be shot, kill or be killed, blatant propaganda spoon-fed by the media to the masses and fed to innocent children who know nothing yet but are being programmed to follow in the footsteps of the hate in the world.

We as a human race are not coming together to solve problems, I see too often people sitting back and being PART of the problem and enjoying their placement in a world of fellow angry citizens who can’t even rise from bed without feeling hate in their veins.  And that makes you a good person?

What exactly constitutes a good Christian or a good person? I shouldn’t have to struggle to see them; they should be quite obvious among the crowd yet they’re not. They’re hidden among the booze drinkers, layered with, if not covered in, the hatemonger; splintered by the right and wrong in the world.

Actions are what separate the good, not color, religion, race or sex but that is what we’ve done to the world, divided man and thought, and has made information so liquid we bathe in the offering. It does not make us good people by agreeing to everything the hate spewers feed you.

Greed has ruined any form of celebration for me. People want and want but are not willing to give a little time and effort to the term ‘change’. They’d much rather be herded together like cattle and be tagged and counted among the crowd as one of the all.

I feel alone as I wade in the ocean of life. I’m out to sea and see no land in sight. Ruined is the joy in a day. Gone is the hope in tomorrow. I have but one thing to hold onto as a life preserver and that is my faith in God. 

While man has destroyed everything, burnt the promise of growth, singed the tide of deliverance, damaged the blossoms of love and buried the plateau of joy, I remain alone. I will count by single digits the good ones and remain skeptical of the boasting 'good' people; skeptical not judgmental because I hold no right in judging. We each have to judge for ourselves what is right and wrong and prayerfully I choose right.

Ten Things Money CAN’T buy?

Manners
Morals
Respect
Common sense
Character
Class
Integrity
Trust
Patience
LOVE!

Bonus: Faith, Hope and Charity

1 Cor. 13:13 KJV “And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.”

Reasons...

Job 17:7 Mine eye also is dim by reason of sorrow, and all my members are as a shadow.

A Reason

As you can imagine in the depth of my grief, I search endlessly for reasons why things are the way they are. My dad was in the hospital for three weeks when he finally succumbed to COPD in the same hospital room that my grandmother had passed.

I’ve gone over the WHY’S:

Why did he die?

Why was I not there?

Why am I here (in Nebraska)?

Why didn’t I make it to the funeral?

Why didn’t my poem reach his ears?

Why, why, why?

Then I went over the reasons behind all the WHY’S. I wasn’t torturing myself I was more like self-analyzing all the reasons there are for the way things happened the way they did.

Let’s go in order:

Why did he die?

Well, he didn’t just die. For twenty years since his first heart surgery my father had sought out God. He had become closer to God in his final years, not saying he attended church or anything but in his own way he embraced his religion, what it meant to him and where he’d go in the final chapter of his existence, heaven.

My father suffered for many years with heart problems and the last few years it had gotten worse. He was a survivor of throat cancer and watched his sister succumb just this year to the deadly colon cancer (among other cancers she was hit with), and he’d watch from afar his brother-in-law fight with lung cancer.

Over this past year my dad would need more and more oxygen. It got to the point he barely made it to the car with the heavy tanks he had to carry with him. He struggled to breathe on a daily basis. Something we too often take for granted, he was relinquished to begging for more.

Why did he die? Because his heart and lungs couldn’t take it anymore. There was not enough oxygen on this planet to fill his lungs so he had to go to the place where he could breathe easy without any struggles, heaven.

Why was I not there?

It just wasn’t meant to be. I carry a smidgen of guilt but am relieved when I go over the reality of not being there. Reality, something no one wants to hear, they just want to play the point-the-finger-at-the-lousy-daughter game. Yeah, my brothers are back there in Baltimore pointing fingers and wondering what kind of daughter doesn’t make it to her own fathers funeral. I’ll tell you what kind, the kind that lives in the REAL world!

Had I had $3,000 dollars hanging out of my pocket I surely would’ve hightailed it back to Baltimore disability and all. The reality of the matter is, I don’t have $3.00 hanging out of my pocket. I have a roof over my head, I have food on my plate, the house is heated and I have a wonderful husband! Can anyone say they really want more? Then you my friend are a prisoner of a false reality. I don’t live for WANT, I live for NEED and am provided for my needs daily! I WANTED to  be back home but apparently I wasn’t NEEDED.

Let me let you in on another reality. I have two brothers that could’ve very well paid my way back there with no skin off their nose! Did I WANT them to? No! They have their cable bills, their new cars and trucks to pay for, their season tickets to football/baseball games, goodness, where would they EVER find spare cash to help their sister?

My one brother from Tennessee drove eight hours back home but allowed my mother to pay for his hotel for three nights? I forgive him for that since he is the one who paid my mother’s $150 a month garage fees to park their car for the past five or six years. My other brother is a drugee, and my sister has a rental place with her three kids living there.

Why was I not there? 

For the plain and simple reason, MONEY. Sad but true. The reality of life is, that EVERYTHING boils down to money, remember that.

Why am I here in Nebraska? 

Because a man saw a wounded soul 1400 miles away from him and just like a puppy in the middle of the road, he saw to it to rescue me from death.

Why didn’t I make it to the funeral? 

For the reasons above of why I wasn’t there in Baltimore. If you read into the picture I painted of my family, they are who they are and I am no longer a part of them; that bothers them to no measure. I’m happy with nothing (but everything) and they are miserable with everything and more.

They didn’t want me back there because they love me, they wanted me back there to relieve their conscience and so they’d have something and someone to talk about.

Why didn’t my poem reach his ears?

My sister had my last words to my dad on her phone and she was ‘going’ to read it to him but didn’t find the time. Did she read it at his funeral? No. Why? Because she was taking care of other matters that were more important than my last wish to my father.

It wasn’t meant to be. My poem finally made it to my mother via snail-mail and her words were somewhat hurtful, “I’m glad your father didn’t hear this before he died, because it was SAD!”

I’ll tuck that one under my belt.

So again I’ll ask, why am I here in Nebraska?

Because the Lord saw me worthy to be loved! To know what love IS! To feel HIM wrapped around my heart and to bless ME!

While my mother and father were the only two that truly loved me (back home), my siblings claimed to love me but I say to you, to KNOW love is to SHOW love, and in thirteen years I have not been shown love by any of my siblings.

Granted, if they read this, they’d spew that I don’t know what I’m talking about, and * I* never SHOWED THEM love. It’s a tit-for-tat game with them, a game I quit many years ago, out of LOVE for my self and my sanity.

Also granted, that if they knew I was writer, they’d read my words. They love me so well. (Yes I gave them a link to my writing but they lost it somewhere over the years.) Remember, if I’m not making MONEY, then I’m not a writer.

All my WHY’S and REASONS have been answered and now I search for PEACE in the midst of my grief. I go with faith in my hand and God in my heart and I move on to the next phase of my life. I feel the wind beneath my wings…

God bless you all!

Pss. 38: 8 I am feeble and sore broken: I have roared by reason of the disquietness of my heart.

Daily Slaughter

Pss. 62:1-2 Truly my soul waiteth upon God: from him cometh my salvation.
He only is my rock and my salvation; he is my defence; I shall not be greatly moved.

Daily Slaughter

I see it; it is happening all around me and far from me but it still has fingers to touch me; the persecution of Christian believers. Death and slaughter is on the banks of every shore reaching in and finding the ones who believe in God, in Christ, in anything but the distorted Islamic religion.

I won’t justify the terrorists by giving them a name, which is too good for them. I just like to refer to them as slaughtering beasts. By the reading of morning headlines, I see that the terror isn’t restricted to one part of the world. I see men and women losing their mind over here in the good old U.S of A. also.

We live in a world where sanity is laughed at, insanity is a way of life, so much so that even the sane people are left to feel somewhat insane. Slaughter takes on many shapes and forms and insanity is driven by an evil force although no one wants to call it what it is for fear of being thought insane.

I think people of today are finally waking up and seeing with their own eyes that there is something going on that cannot merely be explained as insanity. Just as light is a force of growth (sunlight causes trees and flowers to grow) darkness is a force that causes people to be driven from the light. Even the definition of darkness is ‘absence of light’.

While we stand in awe of the tangerine orb hanging in the sky, we know that it will settle off on the horizon only to give light of the cratered cantaloupe light hanging from the sky with its beads of pearls strung all through the infinite realm of darkness.

Daylight and moonlight are our sources of light in a darkened world but as humans we have not come to worship the sun and moon, we worship the Creator of such gifts. The insanity of life is formed when we are consumed with the worship of the physical and material aspects of life.

I often think of the time when the world was being formed and the angels were in discussion. Lucifer wanted control of the earth and God wanted man to be at the helm of its glory and thus the unraveling of the conscious mind began.

Gen. 1: 4 And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.

We can be told by scientist of the Big Bang theory and possibly believe it, but honestly, could an astronomical event create the human mind, body and soul? Did the Bang have the power to separate the Light from the Dark? Yes, you say? Well how did it divide the atoms to make up the spirit residing in the human mind called a soul?

Since the beginning of time the light and dark forces have been at war. These same elements are in us. IN US! Running through our veins in a rampant force just waiting to surface. Obviously, the dark forces causing us to do evil shadowy things in the land that we were to make prosperous and not destroy causes the insanity of man.

We’re taken back to the control of the situation. When I see men/women being beheaded I think of the control freaks doing the injustice and I see the demon gloom hanging from a sword. When I see beasts killing men and women in MY land with a gun or knife, I see that person who is dying for control, losing his mind to darkness that has blurred his vision stealing the light from within him/her.

No gender or age is immune from this cloudburst. No profession is off limits to the unruly behavior that the force seeks out to destroy. The dark force is upon us, hanging over in an impulsive manner almost forcibly shaking us to do what we normally would never do in a thousand years. Our only sense of self-control is to cling to our sanity.

I feel as if I’m in the midst of a Zombie apocalypse just waiting for the guillotine to wrap around my neck. I observe the seemingly sane give into insane behavior lapping up all the darkness that is there to feed off of.

How is man to ward off the evil taking over the world? Just as he did in the beginning of time, giving up control. Man is to give up control of his material possessions, his physical world and be bathed in the Light that God so freely gives to all.

Luke 18: 22 Now when Jesus heard these things, he said unto him, Yet lackest thou one thing: sell all that thou hast, and distribute unto the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, follow me.

I think of the entire fleet of atheist wandering around groping in the dark. If just once they gave control over to the Light, I can bet God would see them and they’d see Him, whether they want it or not. But it looks to me like they’re accepting living in a dark world of pessimism giving control over to the wind that carries them to and fro.

When I think of Israel and the land where my Savior was born, I also think of the persecution that went on there. I think of the first man and woman who were led out of the Garden of Eden with the promise of life. I think of the Eternal life that we are given when we choose, quite simply, light over dark.

While the world is succumbing to the evil darkness washing over us like a summer rainfall, we become parched and depleted in a world without light. The sleeves of armor are wearing thin as we watch the takeover. Our only saving grace is not out here in the physical world, it is in the moisture of our insides drinking the fresh, ripe fruit juice of the Spirit living within us.

Pss. 63:1-4 O God, thou art my God; early will I seek thee: my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is;
To see thy power and thy glory, so as I have seen thee in the sanctuary.
Because thy lovingkindness is better than life, my lips shall praise thee.
Thus will I bless thee while I live: I will lift up my hands in thy name.

Help Me Lord

Pss. 12:1 Help, LORD; for the godly man ceaseth; for the faithful fail from among the children of men.

Help Me Lord

Help me Lord it’s been a long day

My body is failing I begin to sway.

Through the mist I see them rise,

Mangy wolves in disguise.

They rant, they rave through it all

bellowing out a howling call.

Looking like sheep dressed in white

Prowling on innocence in the night

They saunter along and show their claws

Prying open my self-made walls.

I stand alone they circle ‘round

To steal the Light in me they’ve found.

In one fell swoop they’re whisked away

My Holy Savior saves the day.

Help me Lord, to always see

The You that found a part of me.

 

 

 

 

 

Poetry Sunday ~ Alone Am I

Pss. 102:7 I watch, and am as a sparrow alone upon the house top.

Alone Am I

Alone am I in the confines of my mind

Left for no one but me to see

Running along in these empty halls

As an echo sounds as sanity calls.

Forsaken am I can anyone bear

The care and love of life

Amnesty airs forgiveness of lies

Solitude speaks silence of eyes.

I dared to go where lightning glared

Its fingertip on my soul

Searing a hole in loneliness cold

Breaking the mold if truth be told.

Seclusion aims an arrow set free

On me it callously claims.

Alone am I in the confines of free

Left for no one but me to see.

 

 

~~ * ~~ * ~~

A Dislike Button?

Well we know THAT won’t happen because of the state the nation is in right now. We’re divided, we’re colorized and we’re full of DISLIKE for more than we LIKE.

I was thinking of writing to Mr. Zuckerburg to offer some suggestions for a ‘possible’ dislike button. While the Like button, introduced in February 2009, is used up to 4.5 billion times each day, I’m sure I have a few friends who have used half of those millions in one week.

I personally think the LIKE button is as demeaning as Mr. Zuckerburg feels the DISLIKE button would be. Maybe the like button was for you to feel good about yourself, but not much unlike being in a schoolyard with surrounding friends, when one child is left in the corner with NO ONE liking them, it can begin to feel very isolating; intentional or unintentional.

Here’s my ideas:

Instead of a like/dislike button, why not have a like button with options? It hurts (yes truly hurts my heart) to see people announce the death of a loved one and people LIKE it? I think they’re trying to express emotion without actually using WORDS of condolences. Emoticons can only do so much. A heart symbol means love, it doesn’t mean an offering of sympathy, empathy, prayer or agreement. Simply put emoticons display emotions of love, happy, sad, angry and so on.

When I purchase an item online I’m often asked when giving a review of the product--

Do you: LIKE, NOT SO MUCH, AGREE, or DISAGREE. I think the like button on facebook should be upgraded with the changing trends of this world. Give us options.

Just like those questions on products, facebook offers a place to ‘leave a message’; many choose not to express emotions and click the LIKE button for no apparent reason other than clicking to acknowledge that they saw the post.

When a review is left for a product, again we’re given options:

Was this review helpful yes or no.

Quite simple. We’re given options!

I think Mr. Z is apprehensive for fear of it affecting advertisements, trolls, and bullies. We have options whether we want to SEE the ads, or choices of what we DON’T MIND seeing, so why can’t the LIKE button express more emotion. Facebook is an emotionally driven site. We need more than emoticons, again, they just don’t cover it all! We need choices!

If Mr. Z is afraid of the downside of a DISLIKE button, why not take the LIKE button away completely and replace it with the silly emoticons? Then when someone dies, the emoticon with tears can express what the person wants to say. If someone disagrees with a post, the angry face emoticon, smiley will replace LIKE, and a heart will signify LOVE. THEN a person can actually feel free to use WORDS to convey their joy, sadness, sympathy or love for a post in the message box.

An example: Joni received – 5 smiley faces, five angry faces, 1 million hearts. Okay I exaggerated the hearts a bit.

Here’s another suggestion for FRIENDS. Have you ever seen a person with over 300 – 800 or even a thousand friends? What is up with THAT? Do they seriously know these people or are they friend thieving? Jumping on the grab-a-friend-of-a-friend bandwagon?

I love the LISTS. We can name them and then click on what we see in our feed. I have a WRITER list and view what my writing friends are posting. My suggestion is this, what can people see on my wall? That option is FRIENDS ONLY which kind of stinks if you have a bandwagon of friends. I would LOVE to see OPTIONS of who can see this! FAMILY, friends, close friends, etc. Not too hard but apparently Mr. Z wants us sharing with total, possibly stalking strangers! Just because a friend APPEARS nice, is not always the case when he begins stalking you now is it?

We live in a techno text world, one I am not accustomed to in any way. If I go to a page and see a bunch of txt lingo I click away from it quicker than you can blink an eye. I will not be dragged into trying to interpret what people are TRYING to say. Can’t people write WORDS anymore? Can’t people express themselves like normal people? I have one or two friends who actually uses words, it’s comforting to know out of millions of people caught up in this age of technology, I can find two or even three that still use words to express their emotions.

Mr. Z, something needs to change. The site is no longer a social friendly service for teens, it is a community of adults overwhelmed by not being able to express themselves. If the emoticons do it for people, give them what they want. Me, I’ll just keep writing for myself. “Better to write for myself and have no public, than to write (and be a showcase) and have no SELF!”

Here! Here!

 

I walk alone...

"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be."

- Douglas Adams

In writing, it is kind of hard to focus when insanity rears its head. Sure the folks can pretend to be writer’s but really they are just fooling themselves. The writers that I admire most are the ones who keep their sanity in check, learn and progress at a normal pace in their writing careers, and the only insanity can be seen from their families by way of, “What! Are you crazy?”

I realize they walk alone. They surround themselves with like minded people and the crazy ones, they surround themselves with the gibbering fluctuating frenzy of madness. I realized these past few weeks as the clique isolated me from themselves, the reason they pushed me away, it wasn’t my ‘craziness or madness’ it was my sanity. I’m sane and in the clique, there is no room for sanity.

They throw pity parties, they float in jellybean madness, they gossip like the wind, they toss around God like he was a joint to pass around; they can always be seen huddling around, supporting one another but in the end, they get nowhere except where they began, in the white room.

This all has certainly been an enlightening experience, and I’m glad for it because it peeled those out of my life who were bringing me down.

“People too weak to follow their own dreams, will always find a way to discourage your own.” Author Unknown 

This is true because as I sat getting pelted by ignorance, I realized those folk are weak and just needed someone stronger than themselves to sling mud at. Sure I got mud in my eye, but I’ve moved on to where I can finally focus more strongly on REAL writing, not the circus atmosphere; I seek the pleasant Shady Brooks atmosphere.

Ok, Shady Brooks is a place in my mind where water ripples downstream, I create the illusion of the rainbow permanently above my head inspiring me to move forward in life, sitting on the edge of the water with my notebook in hand. No laughter, just the rushing water, wind-chimes off in the distance and me sitting there, alone, awaiting sanity to brush my face and as they slowly appear, I realize, they are all new people, that have entered my life and are lifting me to the heights that I need to be.

Thanks for the memories my fellow writing friends. You carried me to the hot air balloons lift-off and now I must soar. I’m going to new places to meet new people, and you all will just be a memory. A bad and a few good...but nonetheless... a memory.

It's all about writing...

Those who are quite satisfied sit still and do nothing; those who are not quite satisfied are the sole benefactors of the world. ~Walter Savage Landor
***

When you come here, you expect to read about the writing craft, something, anything that my mind can produce about the craft. And usually that is what you get unless there is something really important that I need to tell you about my life.

They are far and few between which I’m sure you’re glad of; don’t need a woman ranting and raving now do you? Of course not, so I try to deliver tips and tricks of the trade, that maybe you can use in your journey to help you with your writing.

I often get sidetracked when diversity hits. Yesterday’s rant is a perfect example. I love f2k, that is a FREE Creative Writing course, that I have been an online mentor on, along with many other mentors, over the years. The diversity hit when things of the unexpected pop up in my face. We have eight classrooms, we had over 600 people register for the course, about 400 showed up, and in the first frantic week, well over 200 posted a lesson one.

Keep in mind, we mentors are all volunteer, taking our time out of our lives to lead writers in a new direction. So you can see my dismay when I am giving of my time, and some people ruin the learning experience, with taunts of food and smiley's.

I’d like to ask, when you were in school, did you have rules that you had to follow? Were you allowed to throw food around and whoop and holler when your friend went potty? The mentality has shifted.

I am all for a successful writing course, I’m all for leading and teaching newcomers and some really good writers, new stuff. But I am not a facebook fan, a social network person, or a child who has time to run around and play. I’m sure we’ll get the great learning experience back within our grasp, but right now, the Social aspect and chat chat chat, like like like, is what people want.

Out of respect to Bob Hembree, and all that he has done for me and more than likely will continue to do for me, I will continue on with this course that I started. I will remain in my room and balance the fruity and whimsical, like Carmen Miranda, all on top of my head, and just hope that the mounting fruit don’t topple.

Allow me to say, f2k has brought many writers into the PUBLISHED world and it is still a great course. I’m just a stiff shirt, who likes the academic side of learning and not the insane.

Freaky Friday~ Sanity

The Heavenly host cried out in joy the day you were born. Know you are here for a reason and REJOICE!
~joni~
***

Sanity...part II

Okay, after reading my post yesterday I’ll get into clarifying it up, hopefully. It sounded like a cryptic message lay hidden in there and if you know me personally, there more than likely is.

The year started off in a weird way. I was searching for myself and somewhere along the line I got lost; what with the move and all. Some thought I was uncertain of the move, unsure of where I wanted to be but in my heart there is only one place I wanted to be and that is here in Nebraska.

My writing took a big back burner because now I was taking on tasks that I never had to do before. I think life got flipped upside down and confetti flew all over the place (those were my brains) and I found myself here on a farm out in the middle of nowhere with chores that needed tending. A good five-six hours were spent mowing, raking, weeding planting, sowing, reaping, washing, drying, all kinds of chores!

I was sure my writing was going to pick back up but excuse after excuse,distraction after distraction kept me from writing. Now keep in mind, I’ve worked hard to become a writer and all of the sudden things stopped. I didn’t want to write, I hated writing. Writer’s block? No, stuff happens. I was putting others before myself and my writing was what got cut short.

If I could put the year in review? I put my heart and soul in the blender and pushed ON! There I go, look at me twirling all around, jumping through hoops, press STOP and I find it’s Christmas already!

Last week, something happened. I felt a shift in the atmosphere. I got hurt. Hurt to the point I’ve been trying to pull myself together like a worn old teddy bear needing someone to sew his arm back on. I’m not one to dwell on crap, so I move on, but I’m telling you...it was a polar shift and I don’t know if all the pieces will fit together again. Where do *I* fit into this puzzle? I don’t have nostalgia here, or old friends, family, memories. Nothing, so where do I fit in? :::shrugs:::

I was moving right along, enjoying everything this world has to offer then, WHAM, this boulder started rolling like in the Indiana Jones movie? Rolling, I’m running, running, it’s rolling and WHAM! I’m crushed! Like a cartoon character I pick myself up, stick my thumb in my mouth and blow, POOF, I’m whole again.

Come January my writing is going to take precedence in my life once again. No more excuses. No more problems getting in the way! I’m doing it and that is final!! I need to find myself once again and I will turn to the strength and love that has come to comfort me in my darkest of moments, my Heavenly Father. I know I’ll make it because He is going to carry me as if I’m a feather!

godspeed my friends...

Thought-filled Thursday

Lam:3:11 He hath turned aside my ways, and pulled me in pieces: he hath made me desolate.
*
I will not go down...

Psalm 16:9 Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth: my flesh also shall rest in hope.
*

As a writer I feel as if I am in my own little world within my head. Thoughts run like a freight train in circles until one end catches up with the other.

They circle like kids on a maypole these thoughts of mine and maybe I’ll be able to turn them into a story. The only problem is, these are not of the fictional tales these are downright gut wrenching life tales! Soul searching spiritual revelations!

I can’t remember a time in my life where things were just pleasant as a peacock. I mean, I’ve always strived for feeling good, Lord knows I’ve tried. Sometimes not always choosing the right method for feeling good, but I learned my lesson, moved on and became what I thought was a better person.

I drift through the aisles of the days like a fog laden morning. I wonder if the eggshells will break in my hand or will the mirror crack into a thousand pieces. I’m afraid to turn and look to see if what I’ve done has caused a train wreck, a disastrous train wreck that pummeled through my year and left only pieces to be cleaned up.

I hang here in the gallows of Christmas time scurrying here and there taking care of matters but what is this hanging on the boughs? It’s my sanity, dangling like a partridge in a pear tree, dangling like the clapper of a bell, back and forth, clinging, clanging to what it is that holds me here on this Earth.

I realize that nothing is as perfect as it seems and everything can use a little glue to hold destroyed bits and pieces together. Suppose it’s a lost part? I’m thinking you just either need a shiny new unblemished trinket, or enjoy the broken torn blanket that you carry and be grateful for having something warm and treasured to cling to.

You know what I’m saying? Why throw away the old, when what you have is here? Now! I’m not prefect, never will be, but then no one else is perfect either because we all have little bits of ourselves scattered around the years that could use a little bonding to pull us back together.

I’m tired of hurt, pain, disappointment. I’m living for the moment and whatever it slams into my face. If I break, I have the Lord to fill in the gaps and holes and in the end...I’ll mend.

A writer’s life is insanity.

(to be continued...)