For all the hurrying
To complete
The next task
Reach the next
Milestone
I am finding peace
In the unfinished
Relief in knowing
There is more
To become
Simple changes
In the day to day
Or transformation
Across the years
A me anyone has yet to know…
Hopefully, one who is
A bit wiser, one
Who remembers
To slow down
So as not to miss
Even the singular
Steps of growth
Requiring
The most faith
Revealing
The simplest joys
So much
Talk
Of rights
Not yours
In companion
With mine
No, mine or yours
Exclaimed
Over and over
IN ALL CAPS
Making certain
Everyone knows
And no one
Disagrees
How lonely
It must be
Concerned only
With oneself
Not interested
In truly loving
Another
Or in understanding
That our hearts
Are Capable
Of beating
The same rhythm
At any given
Moment in time
Another poem from a recent writing circle with Ali Grimshaw. https://flashlightbatteries.blog/. You never know what’s going to show up on the page. And the critical voice is not invited. Love this process! ❤️
The ground
Is parched
Grass once green
And inviting
Grows brown
Crunching
Beneath my feet
Trees struggle
To survive
Their leaves
Hanging on
For it’s too soon
For them to fall
One single spark
And the results
Would be
Devastating
Praying for rain
The Earth
Is parched
Tears shed in
Sadness and grief
But also in
Reconciliation
All dried up
People struggle
To survive
Their children
Hanging on
For it’s too soon
For them to fall
One single spark
And the results
Would be
Devastating
Praying for rain
How can this be?
Seems only yesterday
The ground was wet
With the tears of an entire world-
Are there no more left to cry?
I do not believe so, but what is the answer-
My soul
Is thirsty
Longing for
A cool breeze
A steady rain
Not a storm
Filled with
Lightening
And thunder
No loud voices
Sharing dissent
For all to hear
Instead, the quiet
Whisper of love
Sent in raindrops
Coaxing our tears
To once again join in
Watering the ground
One glance
Then a second
Wrinkled brow
Curious smile
Where do the mountains end?
Where do the clouds begin?
A closer look
Would perhaps
Provide answers
If answers are
What I seek-
On third glance
I choose to simply wonder
At how this
Humble horizon
Takes over my thoughts
Leaves me dreaming
Of sitting
At the foothills
Longingly
Looking up
Toward the highest peak
Where questions cease
And peace overcomes
With the passing of a gentle mountain breeze
Too much time
Spent looking back
And my mind
Becomes cluttered
With only questions
No clear answers
Too much time
Spent looking ahead
And my heart
Becomes unsettled
Hovering over
All the what-if’s
Time wasted
Ignoring moments
Formed for this day
Missing opportunities
For peace to come
Right when needed
Time guarded
Thankful when
My heart and mind
Can rest securely
On the promises
Covering all my days
This past week had its challenges. Everyone in my house was sick with a cold and cough. It was the first week back to school. Needless to say, there was little time for writing or reading the words of my fellow bloggers.
In the middle of all that, I was reminded of the importance of being thankful for each day. And to look for the good in each day. It may be cold outside, but the sun is shining brightly!
Sleep came easy
Pleasant surprise
I thought surely
It would evade
Instead, it was
Baby sleep sound
I woke to a
Familiar song
But my head
Was still dreamy
Wait-was it a dream?
No-a chorus
Of birds playing
In the morning sun
Their conversation lively
And filled with hope
For the day ahead
I listened as they sang
Outside my window-
A window in the house
Where I grew up-
Now I sit outside
A hospital in the town
Where I grew up-
I sit and wait
Thankful for sunshine
And blue skies
Thankful for prayers
And loving hearts-
Thankful for the birds
I hear singing even now
In this space between
Worry and peace
What is one word almost always associated with hospitals? Waiting! 😉 But that is ok. My dad is not the only person in need of surgery today. We are not the only families waiting outside during these unusual times. Dad and mom are patiently waiting in his room, updating us with texts. We are enjoying the sunshine. I continue to write in between conversations. It is one thing that helps keep my heart calm. ❤
My heart is seeking
A place of safety
Not to hide
But to sing
At first, quietly
To myself
Until joy that
Runs deep
Becomes
Overflowing
Gladness, and
I can sing
Out loud
With confidence
Hearing my voice
As it mingles
With others
Looking not to
Stir up conflict
Instead, pursuing
Lasting peace…
My heart left full…
Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving will look very different for most of us this year. Mine will be nothing like those of my childhood. At least forty people gathered in my Grandparents’ small house. Everyone would fill their plate and look for a place to sit. It really didn’t matter if it was a chair or a spot on the floor. Even outside on the porch if the weather was nice. All that mattered was being together.
Although those times are long past, the memories are forever inscribed on my heart. I always look back with a smile, grateful for my growing up years.
But there is no denying the difficulties this year brings.
It is my hope we can find ways to express thanks while also acknowledging those difficulties-joy mixed with our sorrow.
Sincerely wishing you all a Happy Thanksgiving! ❤
The past few mornings have been rainy. It’s difficult to wake up and get moving when the sky is so gray. But yesterday morning, though rain still fell, had a different appearance.
Looking outside, I noticed the sky looked strange. The view out the back door was still mostly gray, but with an odd hint of pink. Looking out the front window showed the sun trying to shine through the rain. My first thought-I bet there is a rainbow.
So, I walked outside, and sure enough, there it was, a beautiful rainbow, the full arch, from one corner of the sky to the next. Little drops of rain fell on me as I took in its beauty. And then, of course, I had to snap a few pictures.
My eyes saw each color of the rainbow. Clear and bright. But when I looked at my photo, something was wrong. Still beautiful, but the colors seemed muted. Not what my mind remembered from just a few moments earlier.
I immediately began to edit my photo. Don’t you love those filters? But this took a lot of adjustments. I played with light, contrast, shadow, etc. Finally, I had a picture that represented what I had witnessed.
Why was it so important for me to change the original picture?
Seeing that rainbow brought a moment of beauty and peace during difficult days. And by sharing my photo, I hoped to share that experience. Maybe someone else needed that same kind of moment.
Which photo best represents what I actually saw? In my mind, it is the second. But logically, I know it is probably something in between the two. Maybe the second one is more representative of how I felt. Either way, that’s the way I saw it. And I think there’s a lesson in there somewhere… 🙂
I am currently re-reading an old favorite, “Hinds’ Feet on High Places” by Hannah Hurnard. I love this allegory, especially the main character, Much-Afraid. This book was first introduced to me by my precious friend, Shannon.
Read her story here. ❤ Instant Friends
A specific passage caught my eye as I read this morning.
“…while the storm still furiously raged outside, there they were, sitting around a crackling fire, warming themselves and drying their sopping garments while they drank comforting hot cocoa and satisfied their hunger. Though the uproar of the tempest without was almost deafening and the hut shuddered and shook in every blast, yet inside was nothing but peace and thanksgiving and cheerful contentment.”
What a goal. To experience that kind of inner peace, no matter the storm outside.
I once heard someone say the following regarding life and storms. At any given time…
For me, it seems finding peace is most difficult when the storm is approaching. The clouds are far off in the distance, but it’s only a matter of time before it arrives. The “calm” can be thick with tension. Questions are constant. What if, what if, what if…
The time before the storm is when my anxiety builds. And then when the storm finally arrives, it fades. I just have to push through. That is when I realize I never really had any control anyway.
Although storms cause us to question, they seldom provide answers. They are sometimes accompanied by sorrow and suffering. But I must believe that the possibility of peace exists. Even when it is hard to find.
Each of us has to find our way through the storms. But we do not have to face them alone.
“Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me, for in you my soul takes refuge; in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge, till the storms of destruction pass by.” Psalm 57:1
“When darkness seems to hide His face, I rest on His unchanging grace. In every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil.”
Words from a hymn I’ve known since childhood. Words I’ve heard twice this week in a newer version of the song. The rhythms and melodies were new, but the words remained the same. A combination that evoked a much-needed sense of peace and rest.
The first hearing brought back memories. The second hearing brought the realization of just how much I needed to remember.
Yesterday, I received my second steroid spinal injection. I’m happy to report no fainting this time. Whew! However, it left me feeling anxious and restless. And though extremely tired, unable to sleep.
My evening became a cycle of panic, no sleep, and tears. The thought of my 5:30 A.M. alarm loomed. Followed closely by the thought of teaching school after only three-four hours of sleep. All I could think was, extra coffee!
My morning classes were surprisingly successful! Time with students and teacher friends seemed to help my energy increase. Even my fifth-grade class after lunch was acceptable. 😉
But then, my energy began to fade. I could feel myself hitting a wall. How in the world would I make it through physical therapy after school? For a few seconds, I considered canceling. After all, I just had that injection yesterday. Surely they would understand.
But when I got in my car, there was that hymn again. I smiled and began to sing along. On this second hearing, a new phrase stood out; “Weak made strong, in the Savior’s love.”
So I headed to physical therapy, my energy starting to return. A bottle of water and a protein snack pack may have helped a little. It helped my body anyway. But it was the music that lifted my spirit.
Therapy left me with a feeling of restored purpose. And though I walked away tired, it was a good tired. A tired that reminded me of the importance of taking care of my physical body.
All of this from the simple words of a new/old hymn. A hymn I heard twice in one week. Reminders of love, strength, and grace. Old words combined with new music to provide just what I needed.
Piano Girl 