Grounded

Grounded

I am a bird whose
wings have been clipped;
bright feathers of flight ripped;
by stolen dreams.

Crippled by apathy.
Denied what comes naturally;
to slip the grasp of gravity.
Forced - not to fly.

Wings whoosh in protest;
clattering against the cage,
sounding indignant rage,
against this wrong.

God created me
upon air currents to glide;
among the clouds to ride;
not to be grounded.

I screech in defiance,
"Why can't you see? This is me!
What I am suppose to be.
Allow me to soar!"
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We get great news! Something wonderful has happened. We are flying high! And then, we meet Mr. Gloom & Doom. . . . and they bring us crashing to the ground of cynicism.

Why is it that some people insist on stealing our joy and diminishing dreams? There are some that carry a raincoat even on a bright, sunny day. No matter how beautiful the moment might be, they seem to constantly be clothed in a cloak of negativity. They remind me of Eeyore or the Flintstone's character, Bad Luck Schleprock, who always had a dark cloud hanging over his head.

You get a new job or promotion - They complain about the company or one of your coworkers.
You get a new car - They say you should have bought "this model" because the gas mileage stinks on what you got.
You are getting married - You don't really want to tie yourself down, do you?
You bought a new house - Just wait to you start having to make repairs.
You are going on a trip - Oh, that place is a tourist trap that costs way too much money.
I am sure you can think of some of your own examples . . .

Why do people do this? Are they jealous of our happiness or do they honestly see the world through such ominous eyes? If so, what a sad life they must live; a life totally opposite of what the Lord wants for us. The apostle Paul taught us, saying: "Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things." Does that sound like we are suppose to dwell on the negative? I don't think so! Hold on tightly to a positive attitude. Don't let them steal your joy. Instead, make it your mission to let your light shine so brightly, that their darkness has no choice but to shrink into the nearest corner. Soar to the greatest heights and let no one hold you down!

Dear Lord of Light, please make me a contagious Christian whose joyful spirit and a infectious, positive attitude spreads to everyone I am near - at work and at home. I know I have my periods of pessimism too, times when the negativity of others rub off on me. When this occurs, put Your hand over my mouth and help me to remain quiet (something I am not always strong enough to do alone) instead of allowing me to crush someone else's happiness. Never allow me to dash someone's dreams with my own moments of skepticism. Help me to rejoice with others who are soaring with delight in Your blessings. ~ Amen

All is Well

Oh little one of little faith
don't you know the Father is near?
What must He do to prove to you
that you have nothing to fear?

Though the rain pounds upon the earth,
are the birds not sheltered from the storm?
Snugly they rest upon their nest,
secure, unscathed and warm.

As hatchlings protected beneath
their mother's feathered wing;
so are we guarded by His grace
as to His promises we cling.

Though winter winds bluster and blow,
snow blanketing the barren ground,
Spring's seeds of life lie underneath;
dormant, yet waiting safe and sound.

Each season of hardship is followed
by a joyous time of rebirth.
So are the days of our lives filled
since the day we are placed on this earth.

We are given times of trials
before His blessings He bestows;
so learning on whom we must lean,
our wisdom continually grows.

Oh little one of fledgling faith,
now you know the Father is near.
What else must He do to prove
that He holds your life most dear?

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I look at the world around us and wonder why some can doubt that God exists and cares about them, but they do. Some think our God created us and then sits back and just watches - but does not participate in our lives. How wrong they are! I realise they focus more on the evil happening in the world; which blinds them to the blessings that surround them. It also does not help that even Christians have a habit a complaining, criticizing and condemning others, instead of lifting up those who need a positive example most. Though I have never doubted there is an awesome God in total control, I have been guilty of staring at my own petty problems to the point that I miss the needs of others. Sometimes, I am even blind to the gifts the Father surrounds me with. The thing is, being a Christian doesn't mean I'm perfect - far from it. What it does mean is that I am very aware of how far from the example of Christ I am and how far I still have to go. Thank God that He is merciful and extends grace to each of us. Still, we are to strive to be Christ's hands, His voice and His outreaching heart to a hurting world. How are you doing? Me? No where near as good as I should be.

Gracious Father, forgive me for being "too busy" or too preoccupied with my own problems to see the needs of others. Help me to control my complaining tongue and be more positive to those around me. Open my eyes and help me to see where You can use me most, not just today, but every day. Let Your light of love shine through me until the darkness of doubt and fear no longer exists in those I love. ~ Amen

Time Passes

Time Passes

Time pours like water
in our hands.
There is no holding it.
There is no slowing it.
Another day, another week,
another year surges by. . .

Time runs like sand
through a sieve;
each grain a moment;
each moment a memory.
Another birth, another death,
another life races on. . .

Time melts like wax
before a flame;
to be molded by the Master;
to be cast by Christ.
Another jewel, another treasure,
another gift from God.


I am not sure I am through with this one; but, it is what was on my mind at 5:30 this morning (maybe because today is my birthday and time passing was on my mind). Needless to say, I picked up my notebook and pen and started writing. I have played with it off and on all day. The title and the last two lines may end up being revised at a later date (suggestions anyone?).

Time is a gift that we all tend to take for granted. Everyone expects tomorrow to come. The reality is; that isn't always the case. So much time is wasted looking behind, dwelling on the negative, the mistakes of the past. Let it go! Today, make the choice to make better choices!

Creator of time and humanity, teach me to use my time wisely. Help me to grow my friendships and deepen my faith in the time You have allotted me. Allow me to make better mistakes than I made the day before (because we both know I am going to make them) and allow me to learn from them. ~ Amen

Day of Doubts

Day of Doubts

I request guidance. . . and receive only silence.
I ask for answers . . . yet questions remain.
I pray for peace . . . still chaos reigns.
I want for wisdom . . . repeated mistakes plague me.
I hunger to hear Your voice . . .for the faintest whisper.

Worry is the opposite of faith.
I plead, "Hurry, Lord."
You say, "Wait."


We all have them; unanswered prayers, days of heartache, moments of darkness when it just doesn't seem like the Lord is listening to us. Yet, we know in our hearts He never leaves us. So, what's up? Cecil Murphey has an entire book dedicated to the subject of when God seems absent, called Seeking God's Hidden Face. I have only gotten a few chapters in, but it is nice to know that even the stongest of Christians have these times as well - and come out with an even stronger faith on the other side of it.

There are times, I don't know what to pray or do, Lord. Yet, I know, You hear my heart's cries. So, I wait . . . .

Symphony

Listen!
Do you hear it?
A symphony!
Hear the flowing,
effortless,
tones of the flute?
The haunting violins'
strings on the wind?
Be still and listen!
Harp notes drip
off the Musician's fingertips.
Indeed! Drums are gently rolling
like distant thunder.
Rest with me on the porch swing
and let's listen.
As music streams from the rising melodies,
Harmony's heard within
one of nature's orchestras;
performed by the earth's
most electrifying Conductor.
Listen . . . to the rhythms in the rain.

Through It All

Through It All

How could He do it? I do not know;
Not letting a trace of hurt or anger show.
Before Pontius Pilate, He was made to stand;
tried and convicted, yet an innocent man.
Nevertheless . . . He still loved them.

Oh, the emotions that must have torn at His heart;
the tears, the fears, going through the betrayal part.
Did God lift those burdens at the garden that night
or did the turmoil within, Jesus continue to fight?
Nevertheless . . . He still loved them.

The crowds' displeasure must have deafened His ears;
the taunts and the scorns, the hateful sneers.
Through all the mockery and the awful shame,
the spitting, the beating and the calling of names . . .
Nevertheless . . . He still loved them.

The sound of whips cracking seared the air,
brutally biting, as His skin they did tear.
Forced to carry His cross up Calvary's hill;
could all this possibly be His Father's will?
Nevertheless . . . He still loved them.

Oh, the torture and torment as flesh and metal did meet;
spikes driven deeply through His hands and feet.
Not even in that dark hour did He curse or condemn,
instead requesting, "Father, forgive them."
. . . through it all, He still loved them.

Why did He do it? I do not know . . .
He died for us upon sins' death row.
Bearing our transgressions, He took our place.
Suffered even hell with strength and grace.
And still . . . He loves us . . .
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This is one of my favorites. Originally title "He Stood Silent", it was pointed out to me that Jesus did not remain silent the entire time that he stood before Pilate (something I already knew, but for some reason . . .) And so, revisions were made to correct my oversight. I think I like this version better anyway.

My Savior, there are no words to adequately express my gratitude, or my awe, at how much You love me. I am unworthy. My heart continually sings praises and my spirit soars - because of You. ~ Amen

Willing Spirit

Soulful mirror of my spirit
tell me not what you see.
Reflect not this awkward image.
Project instead what I strive to be.

Serene as the sunset submitting
to shadowy twilight's sway;
mild as the morning mists falling
upon a softly lit September day.

Patient as plants first emerging,
determined to warm in white sun.
Persistent as their roots striving
to see the ultimate goal's won.

Working and sowing God's garden;
may fruit be born of each seed.
Let me follow ever faithful
wherever the Lord might lead.

No longer blindly stumbling.
Aware as the hawk in winged flight.
Seeing the struggles of others;
trying to make each wrong a right.

By a life filled with selfless deeds
let the light of my faith illume
the path of the One who shaped the sun;
who adorned the night with the moon.
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When I began a writing class through the Christian Writers' Guild in 2004, one of our first assignments was: In poetry or prose, describe your heart's desire for your inner spiritual life. The above poem was written in response to that.
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Lord of Light, the spirit is still willing; but, writer's block is like a total eclipse of the sun. Illuminate the darkness, please. ~ Amen

Writer's Request

"I want, dear God,
to follow Your lead,
to write Your words,
to plant love's seed."

"So, using this gift
You did impart,
teach me how
to touch a heart."

"Help me to pen
salvation's plan,
of how You've loved
since time began."

"Whisper the words
and I will take note.
In poet's terms,
Your thoughts I'll quote."

"Then on that day
when humbly I stand,
head bowed low,
heart in hand,"

"Let it not be said
my deeds were few
or that this poor soul
You never knew."

"Proclaim not that
my faith was weak,
but that Your will
I did diligently seek."

"Then I will look
upon Your face,
with tear-filled eyes,
and know Your grace."

I penned this poem in the year 2000. I had been praying - pleading - with the Lord to show me what talent I might have to use for His service. Why it never occurred to me that writing might acutally be that talent, I don't know. I have always loved how words, when placed together in just the right way, seem to sing. I love poetry, especially the old poets: Frost, Longfellow, Whitman, Tennyson . . . the list could go on and on. But, my own feeble attempts at writing always fell short in my eyes. When God finally put the thought in my mind that writing was my talent, I was unsure. So, still doubting, I submitted and said, "Lord, if this is the talent You want me to use for You, show me how . . ." The year that followed, God provided one need after another, in unbelievable ways, to send this single mom to her first writers' conference in Glorieta, New Mexico. October 2001, right after the terrorist attack, I climbed on a plane fulling trusting God to protect me. The devil didn't want me there. Many tried to talk me out of the trip and I was sick as a dog the entire time (didn't know I was allergic to Mountain Cedar). But, the conference was wonderful! I learned a lot and made many contacts in the writing world. Still, one rejection letter after another and the busy world of having two jobs to make ends meet took their toll. I stopped submitting my work for others to tear apart. My writing slowed, then stopped completely. But, the longer I have gone without writing, the deeper and darker the emptiness inside of me seems to grow. That said, this blog (suggested by my cousin Carol Ann - thanks so much for the encouragement), is my attempt to get back on track; to find the missing part of me by picking up the pen again and sing through my poems and prose praises to my Lord and Savior.

Forgiving Father, reawaken the poet within me. I rededicate my passion for the written word to Your service. I am not complete without doing what You designed me for. ~ Amen