Photo by Tina Nord
Oh the smell and sound of my Gulf shore
all of my changes were there
My Texas bayou city and bluebonnets in my soul
my angels were younger then
When I climbed my highest wall
these places cushioned the fall
My sea loving heart and my Texas soul
are the notes in my Holy song
Photo by nagaraju gajula on Pexels.com
Photo by Pixabay
She said, “the “human affair” requires a miraculous solution. She shared how her mind would grow wings and soar in the great blue beyond. That is how she knew she was different…her mind would discover life’s secrets as it dipped and glided on the winds and over the Milky Way. She said “I just never knew that most people did not seem to care to go where their mind would take them if they let it…”
She knew in order to please others her mind must stay tethered to her body but it seldom obeyed itself in this endeavor. She said, “when people judged her she simply put them away like old worn out shoes because they could not help that they were worn out and would most likely never be able to take wings and fly with her. It is a choice we each must make. Most people think it childish to soar above the Milky Way or ride upon a raindrop.” She said her fondest memory was when she made snow angels in her own snow globe because Winter was her favorite season and she like to remember the angels…
She spent two years in a German concentration camp when she was eighteen years old and she never saw her family again. She would watch the birds fly overhead mingling with the ashes of the dead and let her mind go with the birds so that she would not become the ashes. Many years after the war she came to America and stayed with a distant Aunt who had also survived. She was put through many psychiatric test and told she was what we now call Bipolar but she never believed the doctors. She wrote beautiful poetry that lifted people up among the hopelessness of the aftermath of such a devastating time in human history. She had a tattoo on her arm and a limp due to a hip fracture she received in a beating in the camp because she did not stand up fast enough for one of the guards.
One evening as I was preparing her for bed I asked her if she believed in God. She looked at me without speaking for a minute or two and then she said with her chocolate brown eyes glimmering with tears, “who do you think let my mind grow wings and soar and still does? Who do you think slept by me every night in that camp and protected me from rape and disease and starvation? Who do you think I rode to the Milky Way with?”
“Oh child, she whispered, our God is bigger than all the evil, the most heinous deed man can dream up.” As she lay her head upon her pillow and I tucked her in for the night she said calmly, “tomorrow I will be going beyond and will never be tethered to this old body again and when I go please don’t let anyone try to bring me back. I have waited long enough to meet my poet. It is God who writes the poetry of our lives and no one can take that away from you.”
I turned out the overhead light of her hospital room and I walked out into the night air and I stared up at the Milky Way and I cried. I cried and smiled at the same time. I knew I had been given a great gift. I would never forget that the “human affair” requires a miraculous solution and The Holy God is the poet of that solution.
Where shall I go from your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me.
If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light about me be night,”
even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is bright as the day,
for darkness is as light with you.
Psalm 139: 7-12
Photo by Travis Rupert
Stillness is golden
sunrise over the ocean
Oh what a morning
my eyes did behold
Needless to speak
when it seems so lonely
The silence is healing
in this oh so brief world
Serenity’s healing balm
makes me a believer
Tried to buy more time
but it had all been sold
Photo by Afta Putta Gunawan
I always tried to save the Lost Boy…
I could pick Him out in a crowd
His eyes look sad as if they wanted to be found
He is hurt deep inside but never makes a sound…
I always tried to save the Lost Boy…
he will never dance to someone else’s tune
he talks tough to his friends and howls at the moon
he takes care of others and will grow up too soon…
Oh the Lost Boys are blue, some are bound to lose
I pray to The One who can right all wrongs to sing His song
and fill the boy with sweet light and soul
because I know now I cannot save The Lost Boys…
Photo by Chevanon Photography
I suppose all writer’s like to sit and observe people. I am sure they must. I do this without even realizing it, even when I don’t want to.
I was sitting in a cafe yesterday for instance, in a nice part of North Dallas and four teenage girls came in…the following is what I observed and where my mind went…
The perfect girl, I will call her #1. She is tall. She has on designer shirt and shorts with the perfect little wedge shoes and subtle but elegant jewelry. Her hair is smooth and perfect and naturally deep auburn. Her sunglasses are effortlessly perched on top of her head. She is the Alpha Female, the leader, the talker. The others follow her but more importantly they trust her implicitly…
Girl #2 is so close to being an Alpha she has staked out being the #2 girl with authority. She is willing to follow the Alpha as long as the other two girls acknowledge that she is #2. She knows she isn’t as pretty or perfect but she is striking and smart, articulate and unafraid.
#3 is Happy. She is happy to be here. She is smiley and bubbly and very pretty without knowing it. She is easy going so she can never be an Alpha Female and she is okay with that. She knows her place and she knows she is just as smart and articulate as her friends but she knows “the art of waiting…”
#4 is the youngest in the pack. She is beautiful and smart but insecure. Her first words were “I didn’t wear my sunglasses.” She is afraid to step out and speak her mind yet because she is a little scared the others will make fun of her. For now, at this stage in her life, she is a follower but has every intention of overcoming her doubts and become the Alpha Female one day herself. She is the one who interacts the most with #1 because she is learning and soaking in observations. The teacher and the student…
I do not believe that women in the American culture have ever been taught or given the okay to move in packs or accept they are part of a marvelous tribe. Most of us bear the good and bad of life in a private place. We may have one friend or two we can tell most things too but it is rare that we would ever run a joint household as they did in the ancient days…The statement “it takes a village” is not true in the America that I see. An American woman is expected to do it all and do it on her own and we all can see how well that has worked out.
I digress…so there they were, four girls, just eating, laughing, talking…they are probably nothing like what I observed…it is crazy right? I know.
Photo by Alem Sánchez
As I prepare my heart during Lent season heading toward the Holy day of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ I keep coming back to the thought of The One in whom I put my trust.
All of us “trust” something or someone, as as a result, we worship the very thing we are trusting.
Dr. Hud McWilliams says, “for a relationship to be authentic, one must realize that a choice has to be unencumbered by manipulation.” (no fear, no rules, and no behavior that merits you favor). “
Looking back on my youth I have come to realize many of my relationships had an element of manipulation or my own agenda in them but now I see that Jesus never manipulated people to engage with or follow him.
Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God. Hebrews 12:2
God gives us the ability to openly choose Him through Jesus Christ. No manipulation, no winning a lotto, no position of prosperity or health. So, I remain humbly astounded that my relationship with God can be truly free and without manipulation…
Photo by Skitterphoto
I suddenly wake and can’t see anything
I start throwing my fear around…
I open the window
I look for the sun for any signs of the spring
and then I can breathe again
I can feel each Holy breath…
I hear my babies laughing
I smell roses drifting on the breeze
Deep inside a sweet voice whispers
what have you to fear?
and then I can breathe
I can feel each Holy breath…
At night I gaze up into the heavens
I hear someone call my name
I laugh at the man in the moon
and peace comforts me again
and then I can breathe
I can feel each Holy breath
Photo by Garon Piceli
I lie down under the burden
of the courage that I lack
For you to see the sin in me
cannot be taken back
It is my greatest fear at times
you might finally know
The dark and filth I tasted once
I never want to show
Exposure of who I really am
could it drive your love away?
After all you’re only human
dare I hope that you would stay?
The truth of exposure that I fear
is a mystery not of loss
But a debt that is fully paid
willingly hung upon a Cross
Photo by Fabio Gasperoni
Sunshine in my window I heard the screen door slam
The more I lose the more I win guess it’s just the way I am
Leaving the rain behind me living a brand new way
Taking the view I’m given being thankful every day
Swept the illusions all away cobweb’s about what is true
I cleaned out the hidden places guess that’s just what I had to do
Spring rains clears the skies I close my eyes to pray
There is still so much to know guess that’s just my way
Leaving the rain behind me living a brand new way
Taking the view I’m given thanking God every day
Photo by Matheus Bertelli
Once I was the girl on the side street flashing in and out of the dark. I was taught a role to play for the well being of my family and for my Dad’s livelihood. I played it well. Such a mix of tender family moments peppered with the fear that maybe Jesus didn’t really come for me…
…now the ocean’s wind catches each regret, each sin, and sorrow throwing it into the eternity of a perfect God to be forever forgotten. In the light of the moon a young woman, who thought the stars would stop shining above her found the Maker of the stars and the freedom and love and the lullaby when He sang a Holy song baptizing over her in waves. So now I am drifting, sailing and it was you who came for me.
On that day when the sun tipped over the edge of the earth and spilled colors like buckets of orange, pink, and violet as a reminder of the power of Holy light. The young woman once ravaged and scarred by guilt and shame found joy in the warmth of The Son. Lifted from the darkness you came for me. You hold me in your arms and by your own wounds, scars, and stripes you heal me. The girl on the side street finally came home…
Jill Autrey Dorman 