essays of life

There were many who could accuse her…

/ jill autrey dorman / 5 Comments

 

assorted colors rocks

Photo by Ir Solyanaya 

There were many who could accuse her, she knew it was the law.

The very men who used her now want to see her stoned.

She remembers how it started, so hungry and alone.

She rode the tide of shame and commerce, with nowhere else to go.

She heard about the Holy man healing all the sick.

They said he spoke of God’s love for all, even those who have no hope.

So now she stood before Him and prepared herself to die.

He then wrote something  in the dirt and gazed up into her eyes

And said, “no man here can accuse you and neither do I.”

Oh the washing of her soul a deluge fell that holy day,

and she followed Him from that time on, He is The Truth, The Life, The Way!

Come endure the Midnight Hour

/ jill autrey dorman / 2 Comments
brown boat on beach line

Photo by Emre Kuzu 

 

Time is not a matter here

in the midnight hour

I sing to you my love song

though it be worn and tattered

 

I fell the deep wells of danger

of both your Joy and Light

To such will be the way of it

 beneath the looming night

 

Come endure the midnight hour

where language has no name

Yet Hope and Hardship mingle

 with your Faithfulness and Grace

I hold you now with such unfailing love…

/ jill autrey dorman / 2 Comments
woman carrying a baby

Photo by Kristina Paukshtite

If I die tomorrow my sweet grandbabies won’t remember

how I held and rocked and loved them with all I’ve got.

They will not know I sang them songs made up just for them,

or how I prayed everyday of my life

that they will follow the call of God.

I hold you now with such unfailing love though

I will not be here to keep every grief at bay

I hope you’ll feel these arms holding you now

and know I am yours Forever and a day.

When Coca-Cola only came in a bottle

/ jill autrey dorman
photo of person holding bottle

Photo by alleksana

 

When Coca-Cola only came in a bottle

now seems like halcyon days in my mind.

I know there is no such thing as the good old days,

still it was the simplest of times.

We had one car families and all walked to school,

time moved slower because it had to.

There was not such a rush to grow up and move on.

The days were full and the nighttime warm.

When Coca-Cola only came in a bottle

all was right in my world.

 

I am here now

/ jill autrey dorman
person kneeling on highway

Photo by Ricardo Esquivel

Have you ever had the strange sensation of having traveled off the map of your own existence?

It is like moving in a mysterious land where you only know a smattering of words in that language and feel so far removed from your core being.

Some scholars call this some kind disorder of adjustment but I disagree.

I find this to be a time of challenge and exuberance in this journey.

A bigger lens through which to view the magnificence of this great pilgrimage, from the cradle to the grave and beyond…

then just as quietly or quickly some sound or smell or jolt of love for someone brings me back home.

I am now standing in my familiar dimension and even though I do not feel totally whole in this earth shell…

I know that I belong here for now until I know that I don’t anymore.

…And you will know the Truth, and the Truth will set you free.” John 8:32

 

 

Her breathing is God singing…

/ jill autrey dorman / 3 Comments
christ the redeemer

Photo by Matheus Bertelli 

 

Her tiny toddler body lays wrapped against mine.

Her breathing is God singing, His Love her sigh.

No guile no malice no doubt or fear.

Her precious hands show me God is near.

She whispers my name as she falls asleep.

Never a sweeter word has been spoken to me.

My heart could burst open when I smell her sweet head.

If there is a treasure on earth more than this I choose this song instead.

A Mom

/ jill autrey dorman
high angle photo of woman on ladder

Photo by Samantha Garrote 

A mother is a 100 percent flawed human being who was allowed to have part in a unique way in another human beings life. Not every mom loved it, wanted it or succeeded at it. Some moms are sick. Some moms are wounded or abused. Some are driven by a secret or a demon. Some dreamed of being moms since they could talk, others did not. Some are natural at it (whatever that means). Some of us live, eat, and breathe it. Some of us enjoy every moment except maybe the fatigue! Some are fulfilled. Some are not. Some of us fail (ed) at it. Some are not biological Moms but are mothering anyway.


The Truth is most of us didn’t know what we were in for. For me being mom was more than I ever dreamed. It set me “right”. It makes me want to be a better person than I am. Motherhood gives me unspeakable joy and to be honest when it hurts it is the most painful experience. This holiday called Mother’s Day is not good or bad. It is a societal invention. That’s okay. If you are a mom this holiday and you enjoy it that is honorable. If this day brings you pain or grief this is honorable as well. We all must make our peace with our moms and with our children. Moms count in the billions. Moms are not a political agenda or a consumer product. Moms are people who love and want to be loved and fail or succeed depending upon the day or the moment of any given day. I am in the club. I wouldn’t change that. I have no regrets. To all the moms out there…let’s be kind to each other.

The Shell Seeker

/ jill autrey dorman

 

 

brown sand

Photo by Miri

Standing on the highest sand dune people moved back and forth on the ground below.  She no longer has their youthfulness of an unlined face but she knew she finally possessed the joy of ageless Grace. The pilgrimage called her to this beautiful place. The wind and the sun an old friend on her face.

Now she is the shell seeker in the wide brimmed hat, as a child playing in the sun she’d laughed at people like that. She remembers younger  days when she grew weary but now the days of peace are what linger here.  Emotions don’t obey the rules they are the heartbeat in being human.  Like waves reaching the shore emotions can be kept for a moment but are better when given away.

The shell seeker’ s eye remains clear and adept while watching the children play. She knows that life is not going back but more of giving it away. The Truth is, life consists in learning and loving well with Grace underneath God’s sun.  To remain whole in the midst of life’s ups and downs, to surrender all secrets and lies is anointing oil to the soul. To shed insincerity and live in the present, the waves echo behind her now compelling her to go on.

Nothing about Love is passive…

/ jill autrey dorman
purple flowers

Photo by Nadi Lindsay

 

Wisteria vines will grow on walls, over other plants  and  along the weathered splintered gray fence that is long forgotten. The vine of Wisteria is thick and knarled and strong…

The fragrance of the low hanging purple clumps of flowers permeated the bright spring day and it made her feel lightness in her heart that she had not experienced in a long while. She thought about how precious her memories of first love are. There in lies the treasure. It is in the pleasure and the pain…if you allow it,  first love leads to the Truth that we know nothing much of love.

She is older now and reflects back often on what she thought love was as a young woman or rather perhaps she was simply in love with what she thought love was. She loved but then she lived. In that living she learned that love is tough as nails. Love is knarled like the Wisteria vine. Love will grow over barriers and around obstacles still blooming and still fragrant. Love is having the strength to stay. Love is a wild and furious risk, a pouring out of all that one can from that cup and drink it. Love is rich and poor. Love is sickness and health. Love is a verb, an action word. Nothing about love is passive. Love cannot be manipulated. Love. Risks. Everything. The Holy God is Love’s name…ponder this, ponder Him…you will find Him because Love never quits and perfect Love cast out all fear and Love never ever fails.

 

 

 

Desert Place

/ jill autrey dorman / 3 Comments

 

 

person in desert

Photo by Joel Friend

 

 

When this young prodigal daughter wandered

It was not because You, O God changed in time. 

You O blessed Savior still sought the one and left the ninety-nine.

 

I could not outrun your Grace even in the valley of the shadow,

I kept seeing your face in my disgrace and sorrow.

You said, “I have already won the battle”

 

As I lay deserted there I heard you call me Friend. .

Dying within an inch of my life I thought you must be a dream

But you Lord whispered “everyone needs to learn, from a desert comes a stream.”