...sweet baby kisses...

a sweet face full of life and purity.  no worry creased her face in sorrow, no sadness filled her eyes.  her little, round nose sat happily in the middle of her face beneath two large, round, golden eyes that danced in merriness.  those eyes so easily moved to compassion, so easily filled with love, look on - big and beautiful.  above the sweet, small chin smiles little lips of roses, parted ever so slightly revealing a pretty smile of a pure child.  never pulled in sorrow only bright with childish dreams, her lips give sweet baby kisses covered in sticky ice cream.  a turn of that shining head, and the locks of her golden hair dance.  they leap and skip to the tune of the sun and wave at the flower of the summer.  those locks of hair so soft and sweet shine like the rays of the sun bouncing off the clouds into the palm of my hand.  long and silky the waves of hair frame her face in light.  this wonder of nature, this sweet little girl, this fairy of flowers, is the one i call my sister.  she is loving and kind and always here for me, the only sister that i want to call my own.

  

-to my beloved sissy-

-written 12/31/2010- 

two wheels...

dusk creeps in,

porch lights disrupt the coming darkness.

my five dollar pink and white bicycle stands ready, it's training wheels still attached.

daddy is seated on the porch step, screw driver in hand,

loosens the white training wheels.

how can he pick my bike up like that?  

to me it is heavy and hard to move, but to him it is a light thing.

  

with a promise of barbecue, and my daddy's strong arms to trust, i straddle my bicycle - altogether new without my trusty training wheels.

what do i do if i fall?

 

i start with the tires on two round flat weights,

then, matching pink helmet on, i am at one end of the straight sidewalk... a new adventure.

i'm scared to pick both feet up off the ground, daddy will drop me.

but he doesn't, he promises he won't and he doesn't.

i start out slow, slow... speeding up.

don't let go, i don't want to do it by myself! how do i stop?

 

a fall or two, determination, fading light, daddy's strong arms.

and then i stop falling, and i can do it on my own.

no training wheels.

balance.

i don't know if i ever got barbecue, i don't know how many times i fell, i don't even remember if i was actually able to ride on my own very well that night.  but i can ride now.  i don't worry about falling anymore.  i rarely wear a helmet and knee pads.  i can do it on my own now.

i learned how not to fall back then.  and as i grew i taught myself how to do other things.  taught myself how to change gears, how to ride with no hands, how to skid my tires, how to pop my front wheel up... but i never would have been able to learn those things if i hadn't first learned how to balance on two wheels.

two wheels... riding with two wheel

-written 7/20/2011-

God's google

i googled the word "inspiration" today and the first thing to come up was someone trying to sell a software learning program.

  

it caused me to start thinking of how i would change google if i could.

  

googling the word "inspiration" would bring up a link to the Bible and pictures of God's handiwork around us.  Three dimensional images of nature singing the praises of their Creator.  inspirational Bible passages that give Him glory.

imagine typing in the word "love" and instead of a link to "The Love Calculator," one would see the word "GOD" in big letters filling the whole screen.(1John 4:8 "God is love")  at the bottom would be a phone number to call if you wanted to accept Christ into your heart, an example prayer of acceptance, and passages of Scripture.

 

imagine God's google... no fudged, inappropriate, or distracting information.  only truth.

-written 6/29/2011-

...to climb or to jump?...

standing on the edge of a cliff... sunrise... the dawn of something new...

to jump means to fall... is it worth it?
  
the blazing sun peaks its softest edges up above the horizon and lights the pale blue sky with a brilliance of a polished shell on wet sand.  always moving steadily, like a mother stroking her child's hair.  soft and gentle.
  
down... looking down now... into a vast mysterious drop
a veil of misty white sweeps her translucent hair back and forth, blocking the view of the depths.  making judgment hard.  creating confusion with grace.  and yet, as in times before, the mystery and promise of excitement call out in a bubbling song.

brilliant rocks stand proudly on the side of the cliff speak of shining hope and joy, while gloomy stones hide in the shadows whispering doubts and sorrows.
tempting adrenalin sweeps over at the thought of unknowns waiting to be discovered.  fear invades at the idea of hidden dangers.
and all waits.

pain awaits, joy awaits, misunderstanding awaits, happiness awaits, mystery awaits.

  
to jump means to leave behind all reason.
  
reason is the rope, God is the belayer, i am the climber.
to climb means........... what?
  
to climb down is slow and laborious.  it is hard.  but in the end only a few cuts or bruises are the result, at worst.  God's voice, directing and encouraging from the bottom where He can see all, will protect from hurt if heeded.  difficulty will nurture strength.
to jump is easy.  it requires no rope of reason, it is carefree and fun... for a time.  but broken bones and fatal wounds are waiting at the bottom, if the bottom doesn't go on forever.
     
...to climb or to jump?...

to wait means to fall unprepared... the dawn won't wait forever...
-written 6/27/2011-

cheese & growing up

growing up take discipline, wisdom, change, love, hurt, tears, laughter, work, courage.

it is hard.  it means tearing yourself away from all you know and creating a new world for yourself.

 

take a block of cheese for example.  you take a grater and slowly rub the cheese against the sharp holes until little strips of cheese are scraped off.  you rub until your fingers are in danger of being cut and all you have left is a little stub of cheese.  the grated cheese has changed shape and is ready to create something new and different.  To melt and become something original.

your parents are the hand that shreds the cheese.  preparing it for use.  that little stub of leftover cheese is the bond you have with your parents.  the part of you that loves them despite arguments and the need to separate from them.  and finally when the cheese melts together to form something new, that is who you are in the end.

 

perhaps cheese isn't the best illustration of what growing up is like.  but i know this.  it hurts.

it not only hurts because you love your parents... but because they love you despite all the pain you cause.

-written 6/22/2011-

gardenia

A wilting flower's death,
comes with it's sweet and fragrant final breath.

Once each petal's withered brown,
each velvet ray has drifted down.

  
Still a hint of life remains,
a vague scent of beauty sings a solemn strain;

and only those with eyes to see

can, in mind, understand its former glory.

-written 5/?/2011-

...a dive...

 ...a quiet splash...

i dive straight and shallow, deep and strong.  The cool water glides over me and i am blind... flying.  Those sweet moments of complete freedom from the world, when the only thing that matters is holding my breath and feeling the water speed pass.  Seeing the light through my closed eyes shine in patches on water.  All the cares and worries are left behind, because for an instant in time i am too fast for them to keep up.  It is like a dance, like a symphony, like a pure emotion, like a pause in time.  Then i reach the end, surface for air.  The quiet is gone, the noisy world crowds in.  The cool is gone, the sun glares hot.  The motion is gone, i am still.  The feeling is gone, my worries have caught up.  So i get out, walk across the burning pavement, and do it all over again.

-written 5/10/2011-

..........bend me

i'm scared to death... but then i hear the breeze blowing outside my window.  Strong, gentle... Swaying the trees, bending them to it's mercy.  Making the leaves dance in a quiet song.

The breeze finds it's way to me and i'm calm again, cool again.

 

Each time the pine trees bend in the wind, they always end up strong again.  Always stand up tall again.  They may be a little more bare, but their roots are strong.

Each time the wind blows my life around, i think it is time to fall.  i think it is time to give up and stop trying anymore.  i forget that i'm only bent and not broken.  And when the wind stops blowing, i will learn how to stand up straight again...  because my roots are stronger, and i will last longer than those stormy winds thought i would.  It's only when i give up that the wind will break me down.  Only when i stop bending that i will break.
 
A dancer cannot dance when she has not stretched - she will pull a muscle.  But the more she stretches, again and again over time, the more agile and flexible she will be.  And after a while, instead of only going this far, she will be able to go much further.
   
The same with life.  When hard times come, and we learn to cope - to bend in the wind instead of letting it knock us over - we will find that the next time a worse storm comes, a stronger wind, we will be able bend a little more.  We won't break, because our roots are stronger, our muscles more limber.  And we find ourselves bending a little further, and dancing a little stronger in the wind.  Far beyond what we ever imagine we could
  
i know, as i look back, that had i not faced hard times before... i would not be able to face the hard times now... and those to come...
  
"Thank you for all the trials in my life that made me strong enough for this.  Make me stronger, Lord.  Lead me on to the next storm.  And please remind me to keep bending when i feel like breaking.  To rely on You as my roots... my stronghold in the wind."
 
-written 5/5/2011-