That face…

silhouette of person s hand touching water during sunset

Photo by Emre Kuzu

His face sparkled like a multi-faceted diamond. A face that blazed like the sun yet different. A pure white light with flashes of blue, silver, and gold. It hurt my eyes so badly to look at Him but I could not, would not turn my face away. I did not care if I went blind. This face is the One I’d been waiting to see all of my life. His face was all I could look at as if in a trance; like when starting a fire in the Old World. Mesmerizing doesn’t begin to describe it. The blaze was so bright that I could not see anything of His other features at all.

On either side of Him stood two beings, they were a coll alabaster white, not bright white, not shining in any way but pure and cool looking. They each stood facing Him never moving their face from His. They did not speak. They were powerful creatures, I could tell, they were strong and sure of their purpose. They were creatures with a human face that I could recognize and at least seven feet tall and had wings that were about six feet tall and four feet in width. Each feather gently folded into the next. Once for just a second I saw their feathers slightly ruffle from top to bottom and could see these were strong wings. Wings that never faltered  when they flew or fought in a battle or stood at attention. I was afraid.

I was so afraid that my legs could no longer hold me. I was eager to kneel down. It felt good to kneel before Him because in the Old World with decaying knee joints I could no longer kneel in His presence. All the while my eyes were burning severely from His brightness. I felt strong in the kneeling as if I, like the two creatures, am created for this very thing.

Then the most incredible thing happened…He knelt down on His knees too and when He did it was the face I knew it would be. His face. The face of softness and kindness. The face of antiquity yet new and fresh. His eyes were not like our eyes. His eyes were not blue, brown, green, or hazel or gray or any of those colors…they were simply Light.

He took his hand and palmed my cheek and spoke to me. The words he spoke I will not share with anyone ever. They were words just between us. Words I had thirsted for since I was formed in my Mother’s womb by my Father’s sinful Adam’s seed. They were words beyond redeeming love, words of My Story with Him, of understanding with healing and further instruction of what is to come. They were words I had never heard spoken before, another language if you will. They were Peace and oh what joy did flood my soul.

At that moment the same blazing light that came from Him entered into me and my eyes no longer burned at all. My sight was inconceivably and brilliantly clear. I belonged there with Him…every “longing” I had ever known in my Eternal Life and even before in the Dead Life stood right there in front of me. Each one of them actually existed before my eyes and each one was finally satiated beyond measure. He smiled at me and pulled me up from my knees and that is when I felt the scars in His hands. Those beautiful wounded hands took mine and we walked among my life, my dreams. As He held my hand in His I knew I would never have to be separated from Him again.

He said, “let’s walk along the place you loved the most in the Old World.”

Gently without fanfare or fear I heard that beautiful love song of waves washing upon the shore. The smell of salt water and life teemed all around me. There was no stench of dead sea life or decay of any kind just the scent of cleanness. The colors of the water was too wonderful for words. Again, I want to keep this precious moment private…this was our beach, just His and mine. We stayed there and looked for shell and other jewels that were of a beauty and colors I have never seen. We waded into the water and even though it was Ocean water we could drink it and it tasted sweet beyond honey. We picked some living anemone flowers and held them and then put them back unscathed into the water. They swam around His feet as if to love on Him. Oh it is a glorious place We sat down in the sand as white and soft as a cloud and we held hands and rested…

 

 

Observation in a Cafe…

portrait of young woman drinking coffee at home

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.

and then I can breathe…

 

air atmosphere blue blue sky

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

 

 

 

Swept Illusions

 

two brooms near fence and wall

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

I’m not far from that girl

jill

1975

She is still keen on being loved for who she is inside

Her gray – blue eyes can still cut through a room looking for true hearts

and she still feels poetry in music and loves a Rocky Mountain high…

 

I’ll raise a silver chalice to the girl I was in my youth

She is always  with me never far from where I am

and she loves the life she is given walking strongly in the Truth…

 

Her thoughts still flow on paper and she still gazes  at the stars

A few times we have both flown too close to the Sun

I am older now and wiser and that girl is never far…

All the Pretty Horses

girl standing near carousel

Photo by Abby Chung 

 

Joni Mitchell and a cup of tea…

I shut the door so no one can see

and dream of something kept underground

when I had to jump off that merry-go-round.

 

I loved the ride and all the pretty horses

I loves what I thought I would be.

I would have sold my blood to be published

so all the work could read.

 

 

I would wax eloquent and be held in high esteem…

all the other riders would admire me.

They would gaze at me on my grand carousel

marveling at all the wisdom I share.

 

Well now I speak in present tense…

the merry-go-round broken down and spent.

For my profound literature there is no need

I still like Joni and a cup of tea.

sjad

Cage of Flesh and Bone

 

brass wrought container

Photo by Jessica Cortez

 

I heard there was a party not in this Cage of flesh and bone

Since there is little or no magic here, I am stepping on down the road

 

Time is out of mind, send me an inviting card

Just swaying in the Twilight, leaving earth won’t be so hard

 

I was interviewed in a gutter, took a catnap in a palace grand

Just a wayfaring woman, Shadowing the Promise Land

 

A duchess lost in fiction in love with a Strangers moon

Now Truth is my destination, Time will be forgotten soon…

 

 

Image Bearer

white and black moon with black skies and body of water photography during night time

Photo by GEORGE DESIPRIS 

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 He sang washing 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 lifted me in your arms and by your own wounds, scars, and stripes you healed me.

This is the heartbeat of God’s love. The fractures, wounds, and scars are remarkably purified like gold after the pain of repentance has done its work making every person precious in His sight transforming us into the Holy wholeness of the Holy One whose image we bear.

In the end are not the scars part of the beauty? 

I think Jesus, when we meet him will show us his perfectly mended scars in his human-ness  even though He is now glorified. He is always perfect. I think he will say “yes, these scars represent each of you and they are beautiful.”