Posts tagged death
Posts tagged death
She saw him first
and then gave an ear to lend.
He told her that he was alone in his walk
And that all he needed was a friend.
That was the beginning
of several small lies.
Ones that he had told himself
Ones that he needed to simply survive.
No one understood him,
or so he had said.
Though she understood him.
Her attention gave food to his death and it fed.
A secret trip,
one will never know.
Though lies are always found out
Even though no one was ever told.
It bred life into a fantasy
For both of them and grew.
Though both claimed there was nothing romantically.
But then she outed him and then everyone knew.
More lies to base the future on.
For she’s thinking with her feelings, her heart
Failing to see that lies are a song
That pulls the heart apart.
“No one understands me, no one trusts me.”
Was what he had claimed.
And it really seemed he was alone, she could see
And then to her he remained.
Again.. another lie, little did she know
This isolation he lived
Was one created,
One that he owned.
“Exiled,” he cried
And she felt for him
Once again this proved that
She was his only true friend.
Choices were made,
Though he claims they were not his.
If she only knew what really made him cave.
Maybe a second thought she would give.
She thinks she is different
If only she could know
She is one of many
The deception can only grow.
She lives in a world
No one can envy her of.
Lies add up and break
What one thought was love
Are you riding on a crescendo? If there were a soundtrack to your life is it at the build up point as you move from point “A” to that really cool, end of the line point “B”? Do you spend everyday waiting; hoping and reaching for something that will mean you have made it? What are your goals?
I took a hard look at my life around me. I have walked through a majority of my days waiting for the next big moment. I am riding out the cymbal crashes, the build up of the music, in my own soundtrack of life and have found it disappointing; as I am never happy when I reach the side I thought I was living for. The depression that used to consume me stemmed from this very issue. There is always something more, something more unattainable and then a colossal let down when the moment finally arrived. That was when I realized the problem. I was living for the wrong moments.
I am so tired of living for the: When I grow up, I am going to.. When I lose weight, I am going to.. When Christmas is over, I going to.. When my divorce is final, I am going to.. When I am finished with college, I am going to.. Tomorrow, I am going to.. and there it was….
I decided I needed to look at today and ask, “What can I do today? (This may be my very last day waking up this side of the daisies, waking up with any one of my healthy children, in this house and the list goes on.) What can I do today to make my Savior proud and not have any regrets?”
This has changed my long term thinking to a shorter-term thinking. Don’t get me wrong, I am still going to school, I am still staying on a budget, cleaning my house and all the daily things that need to get accomplished. I am simply looking at every opportunity as if “THIS” was the big moment my whole life lead up to.
There are no guarantees as to what lay ahead. We all live with this sense of entitlement and are shattered when things did not go the way it should. We find little fulfillment when we finally DO reach that point “B” because we failed to look at the scenery during the trip.
What if you were told you only had 6 weeks to live? What would you say to those you love? What would you spend your time doing? Living everyday, submitted to God and what He gave you for TODAY has been awesome. The scenery around me is gorgeous. I am thankful for today. Matthew 6:34 So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
beneath a heavy carriage
obsessed with death
not birth nor marriage
the umbrella of grace
is wind blown, destroyed
are now fully employed
“finally,” a sigh
of relief escapes
yet there is no peace
to hold on and embrace
confusion and anger
the mechanics of self protect
explode to others
who love yet now neglect
the broken wheels peel
and crumble to shreds
the weight of decisions
have left the wagon dead
(I was out of town the week I wanted to repost this.. doing so now in honor of him)
“Of course,” he replied.
My existence not denied.
To him he would keep -
from them I would grieve.
Four years were lost,
at my innocence’s cost.
His patience, endearing-
an only daughter to be rearing.
I am sure I’ve never said
all the thoughts in my head -
of how precious he was
or how thankful because
I found myself trapped in
some unforgiveness.. a sin..
of his own self destruction,
how he ruined himself from
a normal life or so I thought…
My fairytale life, I finally got.
I should have and could haves
does not mean that I would have
I grieve ever so at them.
I wish I could tell him,
“Daddy, I love you.You wanted me, thank you.
Once my hero now a legend in my heart.. wow
to think one day I will meet my Jesus and be fulfilled
I’ll see you there. We’ll both be home and in His care.”
The Drought of a Summer
Even the breeze on this hot summer day does not squelch much of the heat that I am feeling from the temperatures outside. I have made a conscience effort to not complain about the heat. I simply remind myself how cold I was this past winter and how I had been looking forward to the warmth that summer brings. It is funny how it is the small things we look forward to while taking the big things for granted.
Seasons happen and we do not even have to think about it. I do not have to set my alarm to make sure that a season occurs. I also do not have to tend to the seasons in any way to make sure that they arrive on time. They simply just ‘are’. It reminds me a lot of how I thought there were other things in my life that just ‘were’. Yeah, I realize I put that in a past tense. So much of what I thought was solid in my life has dried up with the summer’s heat into ashes and has blown away in the humid breeze. Sometimes I fear it has burned me beyond repair, but it hasn’t.
This summer season has been a drought that I never saw coming. My heart has been broken. My family has been uprooted like flowers carelessly plucked by someone walking by.. only to find them strewn about further down the road in thoughtless disregard. It is hard to not become bitter. I will admit that at best I am angry. I am angry and I do not think words could even do it justice. The key for me is watching the anger to make sure it does not turn me bitter.
As I mentioned, it has been a scorcher out for some time now. I joked with a friend on facebook that the weather here is only preparing me and my children for our pending trip out of state, a much HOTTER state. So, as I look at my own drought, metaphorically, it is only preparing me for something bigger.
Though I may be burned, I am not burned to ashes. I am continuously watered by the Word. I am watered by those around me who actually care, the ones who call, stop by, help with the ‘gardening’ and do not mind the burned edges around my yard. The precious flowers in my garden that have been wilting and feeling a little uprooted under the lack of stability, now have others that are tending to them in ways that stimulates life and in ways that they so desperately need.
I reflect often, if not daily, on how this current season has been the hottest I have been in compared to all others, it is, indeed, preparing my family for something larger. I have surrendered complete control to the situation and know that God is my master gardener and that He has sent others out to tend my garden with me as well. The water, light and food brought to my garden have sustained me thus far. This encourages me to know I will make it through this drought. It leaves me cautiously optimistic. I will also not take this for granted and will give the praise where it is due.. at the end of every day I give my bouquet to God for without Him, my garden would not even be possible.
Until next season…
Oil dripped from the memory.
It hung on a canvas wall.
I was told never to touch it
because it never dries.
However, my handprints were found.
Now they will always remember me.
I am hoping to forget.
I try to lose myself to the breeze.
It blows so hard.
When that’s not enough,
I turn up the music, oh so loud, to drown it out
Though the thoughts will not submit.
Scars come in many shapes and sizes.
Some you can see,
Others not so easily.
The attributes are endless.
The newest for me
is the lack of all the silence.
A constant ringing or roar is
what my new silence consists of.
A constant companion and reminder
of how I tried to drown it all out.
Now the thoughts of my own or
Flouts of others’ reverberate on all my senses.
Acrimoniously I am left
My heart in withdrawal
My best friend and enemy are all
Simply one in the same.
Isolation is a longing
And a place my scars come close to death.