Oct 132016
 

I’ve been staring at the screen and the cursor blinking now trying to write and I am aware of the sound of the fish tank needing water, the rush of the filters flowing hard and lulling me to a different time and place.

Aware that the darkness outside my window seems blacker than usual -a sign that the moon and stars must be covered in clouds that can’t be seen until the sun rises.

The exhaustion that has taken over my body weighing me down, like if I were to fall into waters deep I would sink straight to the bottom like a solid rock -and there never seems to be enough air. The air is tight inside of me, not wanting to escape my lungs and refusing to fill them properly too.

Panic possesses me and heightens the sensations of… everything. My emotions running high, my heart easily wounded and hurt. My bruises coloring me in shades of purples and pinks and blacks and green.

The swelling in my back pressing against my tailbone and causing numbness to painfully run down my legs.

A God who has redeemed me and saved me from all of these things if I simply choose to have faith, and I do. I am aware of that, and when the pain gets too high I pull into Him even more than I do in the everyday mundane and for that I am grateful. The hurt in my body and the broken in my soul are what makes me cry out to the One who has already saved.

And, when it is really bad I can feel His mouth against my ear and His words caress my ear “by My stripes you are healed.” The truth, spoken directly into me by the One who IS Truth.

Oct 102016
 

When you see me in the grocery store smiling and laughing you don’t see the pain behind my smile. The unknown’s that are hidden behind my eyes but right at the surface of my brain. Almost like if you were to pluck out an eyeball instead of gore you would have thousands of thoughts just pour out of me.

Ones that only a very select few even know.

Ones that often scare even myself.

I don’t know how tonight will go or what tomorrow will bring or if the risen Son will give me the gift to rise at all.

The unknowns are in everything, the everyday mundane, in the isle that hasn’t caused an asthma attack in a year that made me sick today. In the strange smell of fried onion wafting through the town at 9:30 this morning or the smell of blueberry tea around noon.

They say you learn something new every day. I never used to believe that, but then one day I realized that Christ was the gift that keeps on giving, the teacher who keeps teaching, the preacher that keeps preaching. I am His lamb and He is my shepherd. A hook to gently guide.

The only thing I know for certain is that Christ is the One constant, the One that is steadfast, faithful, unmoving, every changing and not changing at all.

 

Oct 092016
 

Funny how over the years the words “Post-It” have caused flashes of ugly little squares of paper with a sticky back to flood the brain. Then you go to buy the darned things and see the cute owls and the off brands and you literally stand there wasting time debating price, color and cuteness all for a note that likely won’t stick.

A reminder that will be lost before it’s been forgotten.


I look through my Bible tabbed with Post-It’s the same way that my daughter has her textbooks tabbed. Interesting how something that I had only began doing that she didn’t know about is something I had spotted her doing the same. I wonder if this is normal or if its some form of inherited colour-coding mother-daughter neurotic trait. Lord knows our lives closely mimic each other without intention.

I guess it doesn’t matter too much though if we aren’t purposely trying to be like the other.

I don’t want her to be a yellow or pink or acid green Post-It note that everyone has or can achieve. I want her to be unique. Her own shade with her own tackiness.

I want her to make her own mistakes and be victorious over Satan slain. Even if each of us must crush that cursed serpents slithering head with the heel of boots of steel made for hard work again and again.

Oct 072016
 

My faith has been through the wringer lately, and I may have been failing the test, letting myself fall, letting the world step in the way, letting myself give in to things I know not to do. And yet, here I am writing as part of this crazy group and I feel the cradle around me, knowing that like the prodigal son, I am always welcomed back, a feast is prepared and my presence is worth a celebration to the One true Father -our Father, yours and mine!

How wonderful to be His. To come back from the darkness and see His Light brightly shining at the end of what seemed like driving a tunnel in a car that has broken headlights. Yet, I know it is easy for me to break, shatter into a billion pieces and watch the scars scab over but never really go away.

You can glue the mirror back together again, but it never reflects the same. It’s always more fragile than it was before and the tiny shards that we couldn’t pick up and see leave scarred cracks where the glue resides, a wholeness that isn’t really complete and as best as I try to be whole I have to accept that I am only as whole as I am in Christ and that while my tests may be failed, and I may fail this journey called life, I will one day be wholly whole, in His divine presence as I am greeted at the pearly gates and welcomed into the Heavenly realm.

Oct 062016
 

You look at me with cupped hands
Your thumbs wipe away the tears that slip from my eyes without my permission
You whisper ‘baby it’s okay’
And, I know it will be.

Because, You created this day.
You knew the saltine water that would spill from my eyes
You knew as I struggled to catch my breath the word to escape my lips would be ‘sorry’
I have no reason to be sorry, I am Yours.

I grip onto Your hands and feel the holes in broken flesh and know that my scars are Yours
That as you hung on the cross You were working to purify and heal my inevitable sins.
With the flash of a light You knew from the start that this is how love would truly begin.
And, the Earth trembled as the Father eagerly awaited You at those Holy gates.

I wait on my charges just the same.
That they would walk through the door with lessons learned, full of Love and soul-y unscathed
I have to place their hands in Yours because it is You who holds life’s script
Like me, I know they too will trip.

You reach out that broken-scarred hand and raise us up from the depths
You show us that blind-faith is the only faith
That the answers are predestined, defined
That Your ordination is Love of the purest kind.

Oct 022016
 

The strawberry plants in pots on the deck didn’t have much of a yield this year and now their leaves are vibrant reds against the greens and yellows with feelers reaching across the wood of the deck and towards the table where we didn’t eat outside because some people are afraid of bugs, but where I enjoyed my morning coffee and fetch with the dogs just the same.

The air crisp and cold this week unlike last week when the fans were all on and the air conditioning tempting. The sky has been painted in hues of blue, green and grey as the atmosphere tries to decide if the rain is the story it wants to paint of if its that of the sun setting golden behind golden leaved trees.

The wind whistles and whips and tears many of those leaves off all in a matter of a few hours and yet while out for a drive I am surprised to see that some trees stand naked and stark, a grey that is reminiscent of one who is dying -that pale colorless flesh reserved just for those who are extremely ill. And the backdrop is vibrant yellow, green and the sun pokes through just long enough for the next batch of clouds to roll in filled with the water of life that will supply these trees through their roots for the months that winter will provide.

Keeping the natural spring that all the animals congregate around, regardless of the mercury, spewing naturally warmed water into a pool for them to drink from. And I am reminded that God takes care of the Raven and I can pass my worries and anxieties and fears to Him because that Raven was an animal created for us {wo}men to care for while He cares for me directly!

“Do you hunt the prey for the lioness
and satisfy the hunger of the lions
40 when they crouch in their dens
or lie in wait in a thicket?
41 Who provides food for the raven
when its young cry out to God
and wander about for lack of food?
~Job 38:39-41~


Oct 012016
 

I hadn’t planned on this tiresome walk, the one that has left my legs feeling uselessly cramped and the fire inside my muscles screams for a break as I drag heavy feet along as I shuffle, seemingly without a cause.

And, the words roll across eyes tightly closed the way credits run so fast at the end of a movie and I am reminded that “even though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death, I feel fear no evil” because “His staff and His rod will guide me ALL THE DAYS OF MY LIFE{Psalm 23} and my cup will be filled to overflowing and when I fall face first into that sandy valley He will heal the pains I feel and the steps will become easier and I will become lighter and the journey won’t feel so long.

Because, getting to know Him is a lifetime of work and yet no work at all because as our Creator, He already knows us and us Him and while we often hide it or deny it or ignore it, His presence is always in us, regardless of the roads we walk.

Creating a relationship with the One who saved me is beautiful, knowing that He has always been faithful to me, even when I wasn’t is a miracle. A journey I will likely walk 1000 times more and each time I take those first aching steps I will be reminded that He is the crutch that will help me to stumble along.

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