Tag: Love

At the Heart of Joy

February 13, 2016

There’s no joy to be found in a side-step with Truth.

If you want to destroy love, make sure to tell lies.

To thwart peace, you must practice deceit.

Hope dies in a self-centered thought.

Death solves no problem in life.

Death begets death.

Life begets Life.

 

Happiness fleeting pursue as a temporary joy, consume.

The passion of romance rises and falls with the moon.

Beauty can be deceptive, the mask of hate and evil.

Vain-glory, insatiable black hole of soul.

Death is destined to swallow itself.

Life cannot die.

Life fills Death.

 

There’s a hunger within all that material gain can’t satisfy.

A need for love, forgiveness, guidance, and eternal Life;

Peace with God, the Father and inner peace with self.

Hopeful purpose found in Christ-centered thoughts.

Enlightenment: Truth’s beauty to satiate the soul.

Light consumes Night.

Life triumphs Death.

 

Truth is the pain of healing that brings joy when obeyed.

To promote Divine Love, make sure you honor Truth.

To ensure peace, practice honesty with integrity.

Spread hope by serving God and then all others.

Life is the solution to our struggle with Death.

Jesus embodies Life.

Jesus is Eternal Life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heart of Blue

February 9, 2016

I cut this heart of blue,

From special paper I saved for you,

In love’s cooler hue;

Trim in fine lace, used time as my glue;

Binding of hearts true;

Ribbons weave through and through,

Defining edges anew;

Now, tiny hearts of pink and baby-blue!

My how our years flew!

Happy Heart Day! True love share with you!

 

The Bottom

February 9, 2016

There is no known exhaustion,

Like the complete exhaustion,

Of trying far too long,

To make-believe and be strong.

When on the inside weakness screams!

Breaking the profound silence,

Where-in lays the corpse of cherished dreams.

 

This is the human condition,

A very bitter truth rendition,

At the hitting-bottom reality moment;

In agony lie there, in Pride’s torment!

Embraced truth is humility;

God’s strength survives our weakest moment.

 

Love Divine

February 4, 2016

If the world chose to heed its old women,

And consider this love-poem I’ve penned…

Reveal that romance is hormonal crimson,

Nothing more than transient biology bend,

Desire to procreate defies logic and reason.

 

This is the true love-message I wish to send…

Possible love divine exists; Please, do listen!

Govern desire; to prevent the need to mend;

Sex, enjoy as open recreation and be bitten!

Caught! In jaws of natural consequences end.

 

Laws humans can’t change or have re-written;

Nature’s boundaries aren’t meant to rescind;

By respect do deliver divine love, pure linen!

Intimate relations a holy bond; purity defend!

Divine faithful love! Avoid empty lust demon!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the Day She Became an Old Woman

January 21, 2016

On the day Carol became an old woman, she shed several tears. Standing in the threshold of the last days of her life filled her with certain uncertainty. Though life is tenuous at any age, when old age comes everyone knows what comes next and there is no way to dodge death. This dreadful day came so suddenly yet also, gradually. Somehow, she didn’t think it would happen to her. Carol never could picture herself with grey hair and never accepted it. In fact she did everything in her power to remain young looking and deny the passing of time but on this day, reality couldn’t be denied. Would she live long enough for her hair to turn white or worse, fall out? Carol didn’t want to die but she didn’t want to be elderly either.

Carol gravitated toward the bed and overcome by this strange season in life, laid down and absent-mindedly, stared out the window, upward into the perfectly blue sky. It was early afternoon, she was tired and it felt good to lie down. She remembered when she never felt tired during the day and how hard she’d worked all of her life; all that was required of her to obtain this familiar, beloved place to relax and gaze at the sky, as she loved to do. Now, she had to think about letting it all go and down-sizing. Tears filled her eyes to the brim when she thought of the children and how far away they are now. She worked so hard at raising them, at doing for others, and now, that she is less capable of serving it seems she is mostly forgotten. Her life once noisy and full is now, quiet. Carol needs quiet at this age but misses companionship, camaraderie, and most of all, being needed. These days she and her husband had to focus on self-care and every day it became more time consuming. No matter the reason, a self-consumed life is a lonely life. She reminded herself to be grateful that she still had her husband and felt a bit of relief in the act of counting a blessing. Then she thought of the inevitable final good-by and the brimming tears over-flowed.

Sunshine streamed warmth through her bedroom window to relax Carol’s sore, stiff muscles and joints. She could see the very tops of the trees swaying in a gentle breeze, as she ebbed into a sorrowful sleep. Carol drifted into dreams and felt herself as she was inside, at the prime of life. It was a bright summer day in a special place. Towering mountains surrounded a valley with a lake in a green meadow. Just beyond the shore-line lay a beautiful forrest, with every kind of tree. The trees nearest the lake bore various fruits more luscious than any she’d ever seen or tasted. There was such peace in this place, a benign but powerful presence that quieted her every anxiety. Birds in free cacophony filled the air with the music of gratitude. Music so beautiful that Carol found herself also, singing. The lyrics flowed through her from the Presence and washed away every sorrow. Suddenly, she was aware of her husband standing beside her and taking her hand in his. Their eyes met in glowing smiles, they kissed, and then realized they weren’t alone. This beautiful place was filled with content, joyful people, all in the prime of life. It was evident there was no sickness here, no aging, no decay, and no death. “This is my home” was her final thought before she found herself awake.

Outside Carol’s window, the sun was fading in a peach and blue display and the tree tops were still. The atmosphere of her dream lingered in the feeling of that powerful Presence and she heard in her spirit; “Trust me Carol. You must let go of this world before you may enter this better place I allowed you to visit in your dreams. This isn’t the end but a new beginning, a revealing of eternity that is new to you now, but a reality that has always been. You belong to Me and everything you love and must let go of here, I will replace and multiply when you are finally home. Until then, continue to serve me. Reach out to others as you are able and point them to My Son. Though you must rest often now, give that time to prayer and meditation. I still have My purpose to work through you here. I won’t abandon you and I will see you safely, through every step of letting go. Then I will safely, see you home.” Carol’s tired, sad heart flooded with the surety only, a beloved child knows and an acceptance of her circumstance that comes only, by trust in the Divine. Refreshed and revitalized, her thoughts turned to Jim, and as she had done innumerable times before, she got up to cook his dinner. Grateful that Jim was still with her and required this of her but also, reassured that should he pass on before her, she would never be alone. Their best days were yet to come.

Undistorted Joy

December 28, 2015

Words that pour from a fractured, patched together heart,

Sometimes, fly in a hailing storm of bullets!

Fired randomly in fear!

When a threat today echoes in the echoes of the traumas of the past;

Triggering an emotional storm; driving the broken one to posture in self-defense;

Paranoid and in confusion, vainly trying to prevent yesterday’s repetition;

There is no rhyme, no reason, and no sense!

No poetry, no prose powerful enough to muffle the bullets and protect

An unwitting target; when missiles, manufactured from thick layers of pain from the past,

Are fired! While the patched together one hides, thinking only of self protection;

Valiantly and covertly seeking to destroy those monsters lingering in closets of the mind;

Ghosts of long ago that haunt in the conflicts, the disagreements, the present threats;

Which quickly magnify and loom with all of the power of original monsters who shattered that heart,

Many years ago …may they find eternal rest in my forgiveness… and in letting them go…

As I die to myself…and submit further to the process until that process is completed…

Please forgive me (as I forgive them), my passive aggressive reflex!

Expressed as words that rained down on you as bullets! You the victim of my fear!

And my sometimes, inability to recognize the difference between then and now;

Those times when paranoia drives my reason under the bed with a shotgun,

To fire at everything and anything that dares to move!

Forgive me please, for internalizing my monsters in an effort to gain control,

Long enough… to patch this heart together and move forward.

Forgive me for pelting you with the bullets intended for them; Forgive this murder in my heart!

Expressed so passively; born in thick, deep layers of pain and swallowed aggression;

Please forgive me, let it all go, and live your life in peace, with abundant blessings!

Don’t allow these randomly fired bullets to lodge and remain to spread their poisonous infection,

That carries the sin of abuse from generation to generation to generation to generation…

Let it all end here!

I have seen the enemy of me and she is me.

This log in my eye has been lifted out and now, I understand.

I am truly, sorry for the pain my words caused!

I’m sorry you were caught in the path of my triggering!

My words that hurt you and triggered the echoing of your own painful past…

May we each walk into our futures, toward greater healing,

Experiencing the metamorphosis of faith,

Available to all in Christ;

Where shattered, mended hearts become new and the echoes of trauma are silenced,

In repentant hearts that by confession expel the poison, stopping the infection of sin;

Hearts purified by forgiving as we both are forgiven.

This is the place where love and justice meet to create lasting peace.

This is undistorted joy!

 

 

 

 

Road Trip

December 19, 2015

Happiness is found on the road, moving in sync with time; chasing the horizon and then leaving it behind, in pursuit of the next visible goal. It is the purest expression of life, constant motion and never knowing what will happen next. All preparations for the final destination, in road maps, travel times, weather forecasts, the well-thought out plans, are swept away by the uncertainty of the road. When anything can happen, there is no alternative but to move forward by faith; and enjoy the experience of chasing the future while resting in the now. Although this is the factual truth of everyday life, nothing makes life’s reality as tangible as a road-trip.

Marriage is a road-trip. For many, it’s a short, rough journey, with an abrupt end. Others are blessed by companionship that transcends all road conditions and journey together for a lifetime. I have been blessed with such a husband and there is nothing I enjoy more than a long drive together in contemplation of all we’ve survived, accomplished, and overcome, as we continue to move toward the future. We are a miracle and each of knows that if it were not for that Third Cord, which binds us together, we would have unraveled years ago. Our interests are varied and made most evident as we travel; while he listens to Rush Limblah-blah-blah and I think about colors. I lose myself in the landscape, as I compare the natural revelation to the scripture stored in my heart. I wrestle with ideas as he reviews football stats. I think about redecorating (again) and he thinks about paying the bills. He has not a glimmer as to why poetry is important and can’t tell the difference between Picasso and Monet. A mind set on the practical can’t quite comprehend the deep meaning expressed in art and he’s too busy completing tasks to invest the time to learn. I am the thinker who dreams and he is the doer that accomplishes them. Our faith in God and the love we have for each other joins our opposing personalities in a strengthened twine that makes us a successful team.

Though I am amazed that Rush has been blah-blah-blahing for at least, twenty years now, he can only be heard for three hours each day. When the Hillary expose’ is over, I pop in the Who, then switch over to Johnny Cash and throw in the Beach Boys to keep him happy as we sing along about the cars he loves. ( I sing these Beach Boys tunes of my husband’s youth with joy, knowing that I am the New Mexico girl, the desert fox, who made all his dreams of California girls vanish, without a trace.) The road ahead of us is long; still hours and hours to go but we are lost in celebration of our lives and the remembering of everything we’ve built and done together. We talk about the kids; laugh over sweet memories of when they were little and then fawn over the grandchildren, wondering why we didn’t have them first. We shed a few tears over the failures, disappointments, and calamities that left painful scars. I switch from Johnny to Belinda Gail and singing along, we give praise to the One who blesses us and keeps us through the good times and the bad. We rejoice in the Love sent on the wings of a dove. I am so thankful for my husband, one so the opposite of me, who is able to complete my dreams. I’m thankful I am married to the man God chose for me and not to some of the ones I wanted to choose for myself.

The road stretches on before us, with all of its uncertainty. Neither of us knows what lies ahead, or how the road conditions might change but my prayer is that we continue traveling together and ride into eternity, hand-in-hand.

 

Sunshine on a Winter Day

December 17, 2015

I am so grateful that the sun still shines in winter.

Thankful for these warming rays brightly streaming,

Through my window, mercifully sent by my dear Father!

Warmth to comfort my body, lift my spirit; to liven my soul;

Lifting all thoughts to joy, allowing them to float on the waters,

Of sickness and sorrow; thereby abating my sadness and suffering;

Snugly wrapping me in loving security; and embrace me in His presence;

It is brutal! Outside it’s cold! A threat to my existence but here in my window

I sit, enjoying the heat of summer; kept safe from vile enemies that long to take

Me down to smother me in agony; in hopes of crushing my spirit, destroying my body!

But my soul, my enemy can’t touch, it belongs to the One who limits my enemy’s strength;

Daddy! He cherishes, protects His child; Surrounding me with bright sunshine on a winter day!

The Reveal

December 15, 2015

The sun fades quietly on this early winter day, without even a hint of color. As if a painter’s rag, soaked in turpentine, wiped away the landscape, leaving only streaks of ghostly grey. The deepest dark of a moonless winter night settles over everything and seeps into the minds of the weary. The hours drag until midnight, when the cold silence of falling snow muffles every sound except the slow, deep breaths of the slumbering. Early morning wind rattles brittle window panes, curtaining them in frosted lace; a delicate touch in the preparations for the unveiling. The first light glitters and gleams to reveal a skiff of diamond chips scattered across the desert floor and then lightly, sprinkled like sweet sugar over the Sage-Brush and the gnarled Cedar. The beloved, La Plata’s towering above the mesas and hills, true to their name, glow as polished silver. Then turn neon rose, as they mirror the sunrise, in celebration of this wonderful new masterpiece. Created while the high desert peacefully, snored through the transformation of a dreary day, wiped away, and reworked; leaving a dazzling bright landscape in its place. A special gift meant to fill even ancient hearts with child-like awe and wonder. Yes! The desert can bloom in winter, as an unexpected rose sometimes, does in some sheltered corner of the garden; when the only One capable of creating something from nothing, retouches it and by His mighty Spirit breathes new life and beauty into that which appears dried grey. A cacophony of praise breaks out in admiration, grateful singing of the winter birds! Will those created in the Master’s image also, give Him praise? Or will they turn away from the miracle, this precious gift made out of Love; and with jaded hearts deny this living masterpiece that each of us is part of? If you doubt the reality of God, look closely in the mirror, then look beyond yourself, and all around you; can’t you see what God has done? The grandeur of nature and the magnificence of the universe is a powerful reveal of the Mighty Hand that brought them into being!

Pure Religion Promotes Life, Love, Joy, and Peace

November 17, 2015

There’s a sad, shivery rain beating against my window, blurring my view of the world outside. I draw close to peer more intently, in order to estimate the severity and duration of the storm. My cheek brushes the glass and I recoil in shock when I receive a cold, Judas kiss of winter. I feel a dull ache enter my muscles, joints, and bones. It is the ache of life under the rule of death that leaves every older person wondering if this will be another winter added to the list of winters weathered and survived or the last one. I’m not afraid to let this old body go; I know there is a better one waiting for me, because God’s Word says it is so. In the nearly, forty years I’ve known Jesus and been known by Him, my Heavenly Father has never broken His promise. However, there are those who love me and depend on me so, I pray that my Father will give me the strength to remain and I leave no widow or orphans in this dying world to suffer until, they are strong enough to survive and thrive here without me.

My thoughts turn to the violent acts in Paris that left so many widows and orphans. The rain intensifies as Heaven weeps over the insanity of murder in God’s Name. It seems there are so many people now, dividing into groups, and preparing for war. Fear is everywhere and the powerless, crushed beneath the boot of earthly power have had enough and want vengeance! One man’s fight for freedom is another man’s terror and all are fighting the same enemy that they see in one another. If it continues, everyone that manages to survive will be a widow, an orphan, and most, likely both. War, no matter what banner it is fought under isn’t holy; it is man putting himself in the seat of God in practicing vengeance that belongs to God and not to man. Terrorism won’t bring freedom but only, God-less anarchy and the prison of living in constant fear of others. The only righteous One, who frees the oppressed and those who seek freedom by becoming like the oppressor, is Jesus. The only war guaranteed to end all wars, is the war against sin within that can only be fought with success in hearts where Jesus lives by faith. The only pure religion is the religion that promotes Love, Life, Joy, and Peace through the practice of visiting widows and orphans in their affliction and living a moral life as defined by God. Jesus is the only sane answer in a world made insane by the fear and pride of mankind. Jesus is the only One able to quell our fear of the rising evil without and have victory over the evil within.

The rain is freezing now, turning to cold ice, and Winter is busy blanketing the world with snow. The specter of uncertainty and fear vaunts itself with threats of leaving all who won’t bow to it, with the loss of loved ones and personal destruction. The enemy knows its season is short and is wasting no time in establishing its ownership of this Season of Death. The natural response is fear but the right response is trust in God, the One who limits the power of death. No matter how thick the blanket of snow, or how deadly cold the winter becomes, the seed of life waits safely, beneath the ground; awaiting its new day with the hope that this will be the final season appointed to death. The sure hope promised by God that comes by His intervention, when Death will meet his own end and Die.

The snow is sticking now, beginning to pile up, and my window is so fogged and iced that I can see nothing with any certainty. I have no idea how long this storm will last or how devastating this winter will be. I am only a woman who can’t predict the future, or use the signs of the times to predict my destiny. I belong to Jesus and I must walk by faith and not by sight. I fight fear by putting my trust in God and continuing to fight the battle He assigned me to; the battle against my sin. This I do in preparation to practice the Biblically pure religion of visiting the great number of widows and orphans that this season’s devotees promise to create. I am humbled to know that if it weren’t for the grace of God, I would be a terrorist too because the enemy they wish to destroy does live in me; as it also, lives in them. Sin is the enemy that threatens all of us and is insidious in its ability to create unawareness of its presence in its hosts but to be readily seen, feared, and hated in others. Sin is a deadly disease, seeking the annihilation of the human race. There is one antidote, Jesus Christ. Those who have received Him by faith and make Him the ruler of their life are given powerful antibodies that ensure ultimate survival while fighting continuing infection. In Jesus, we have what we need to endure and save others from Death. The threat appears fierce but when we employ the powerful weapons of repentance, obedience, and prayer, we are promised certain victory.

Prepare for Death’s season and its uncertainty by drawing close to God; trust in His promises and providence. In such evil days, He is the only One in whom we can safely, put our trust. In the face of Death, we must reach for Life, by reaching for Jesus. “Greater is He who is living in us, than he who is living in the world.”

James 1:27, John 16:33, 1 John 4:4, 1 John 5:4, 1 John 5:5