Nothing about Love is passive…

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.

 

 

 

Everything that used to be solid

silhouette of two person

Photo by Trung Nguyen

 

Everything that used to be solid is suddenly fluid.

The mid-afternoon sky the color of hammered gold

Waves of heat rising from the horizon looks like water only to find a hard rock road

I do love living where the Sky is bigger

Somehow it feels tedious to have too many trees above

If I don’t know you then I don’t know anybody

It is like waiting to touch the bottom of a bottomless well

Emmet

green grass during sunset

Photo by Nathan Cowley

 

The daybreak drizzle has moved out to sea.

The dawning clouds are steel gray.

The wind is about 10 knots up from the Gulf Stream.

Nations have risen and fallen, two world wars, more political unrest, man has gone to the moon and the World Wide Web has come along, but nothing much has changed on this little wedge of the island.

The tide goes in and out.

The gulls and cranes still swoop and dive and the dolphin still dance. The beautiful gold sea oats continue to hold the sand dunes together…
But now you… have been born!

Your little smile, your hands and feet have changed everything.

I cannot smile without you.

There are very few words of wisdom I will give you as you grow up and let me into your world of sticks, and bugs, and rocks.

You will sleep the sleep of the blessed each night and when I get the chance I will tuck you in.

What I will do my grandson is love you. Love you unconditionally with all of my being and spirit.

Long after I am gone I will still watch over you and love you with a love that has no end.

The daybreak is clearer now, the sea breeze cleansing. The wars and internet have no meaning to me now.

The tide is a beautiful dance and all of God’s creatures perform just for you.

The sand dunes are for you to climb and my whole world is golden.

In my War Room

woman wearing black tank top leaning on table

Photo by Engin Akyurt

 

As if at forced shutter speed all life  now is slow motion.

A stealthy enemy invades War Rooms with limited detection.

At what price can we buy peace of mind and human devotion?

This peripatetic killer cares not for education or station

and will only be stopped by God’s love of our Nation.

 

 

I am still right here my neighbor.

I will pray through this long dark night with you.

Let us lift up our pleas to the One who heals.

Let us be the ones called courageous and true.

I will, I will fight in my War Room for you.

 

I have always felt set apart

big waves under cloudy sky

Photo by GEORGE DESIPRIS

 

I stare out my window

Like a sea wife staring out the horizon

Time moving ever so slow

 

 

 

I have always felt set apart

Looking outside of dreams into the  indigo haze

Time capturing the beats of my heart

 

 

This is what faith is

The hope of what can’t always be seen

Time cannot define where he is

 

Empathy…to stand for everything or nothing…

 

high angle photo of woman on ladder

Photo by Samantha Garrote

Empathy without a clear identity in Christ puts one in a position to stand for everything or for nothing. To understand empathy and to nurture that gift the Empath must always be aware of matching their empathy side by side with who we  who are “in” Christ Jesus. (As one who believes and follows Jesus as Lord or as one who is not a Believer.) It is paramount that we build our Christian lives upon our Identity in Christ Jesus, Truth of who we are in Him.

Empathy as well as all spiritual gifts must  be held close to and in direct correlation to God’s Word or we will get it wrong. Empathy is a wonderful  gift as long as we check and balance it or any gift with Truth.

The Angels Have Not Grown Older

man with wings standing on brown mountain peak

Photo by Rakicevic Nenad

 

The Angels have not grown older.

I always see them over my shoulder;

gentle, yet piercing mighty eyes.

Always checking the road maps and signs.

 

I have grown much older;

my dreams like nets all thrown.

Some  I’ve known have wished me well;

a couple of them said “go to hell.”

 

Words, just words without caring.

Words, just words both wrong and right.

Still, I journey on toward His Holy Light.

Still, the Angels lie down beside me each night…

I journey on.

Sweetest Hallelujah

 

 

photo of child s hand playing clay

Photo by Kate Romeo

These small child’s hand prints on my glass backdoor

the sticky applesauce and popsicle on my kitchen floor

I wouldn’t trade for all the mansions in this world.

 

These conversations with my daughters

the new territories in this journey

I wouldn’t miss for all the fame this world could offer

 

These days I count as precious gems

to the road that leads me found the bend

I will simply give my sweetest Hallelujah

I Know…

 

aerial photo of boat on sea

Photo by Pok Rie

 

I was not your faithful friend

I was not truthful, no

I am not the best daughter, sister, wife, or mother

But I know The One who is all I have not been

 

The One who is a kind and faithful friend

The One who always tells the Truth, yes

The One who is the best in me that I cannot be

The One who’s is all I have not been

 

So when you think of how I let you down

And remember the times I did not live in truth

I want you to know that I know

Jesus is The One who is all I have not been