Category: Pieces of Me

She has always been short.

Her laughter her retort.

Sly look, or her small grin…

Hope for us caught in sin.

Did she wink

or just blink?

Does she know what we did?

No. We conspired.

We hid.

Advocate and Mother:

beside us, no other.

Friend: Mother:

our Short-soul;

Lessons taught:

Her only goal.

But, really:

She is just so SMALL.

Culture Who?

Stop letting Culture dictate the meaning of Beauty. 

Who is Culture anyway? 

Culture says, 

“Thin is commendable”

“Youthful, admirable”

“Old is irrelevant”

“Arrogance is confidence” 

“Humility, idiocy.”

Culture splashes ads across platforms and glamorizes impossible and unhealthy ideals. 

Skeletal models parade platforms pretending normality, 

casting hateful glances at society. 

Thin, young, relevant, arrogant, prideful people lead Culture into sorrow, shame, and despair. 

Culture, who?

Why are you intent on destroying honor? 

Stop defining us. 

Beauty exists outside the cruel dictates of Your limited knowledge. Stop. 

We must stop listening:

stop believing:

stop perpetuating, You.

Defy Cultural concepts, spewed out on sensuous seeking hearts.

Seek instead.

Seek True Beauty.

Find it:

treasure it:

share it.

Stop Culture’s false doctrine of Beauty.

We must redefine and realign.

Culture Who?

There is an evil twin

that lives within

the eyes I see in the mirror.

Her strength, it grew

and before I knew

I had come to fear her.

She lives inside

and has not died

although I thought she had.

I hear her voice.

I have no choice.

It nearly drives me mad.

Lust and pride

subtly hide

beneath her sly façade

and all the while

she seems to smile

lovingly at God.

From deep within I hear a cry:

the me-I-want-to-be screams, “crucify!”

Dying to yourself,

the ultimate war,

denying the things

the world strives for.

DIE! Die evil twin

I want no more!

No more of you and your evil lies!

No more of the things that I despise.

I humble myself in the sight of Him

who gave me His strength

and forgave my sin.

I fear no more that dreadful twin,

but each day I must die

to the lie within.

jth- 1/23/92

Some guy on a random street at a stop light ‘flipped the bird’ at two old ladies who were in his way. He squelched his tires and sped around their car.

One of these ladies was the passenger in the vehicle. She is 89 years old. When she saw his outrageous and uncalled for behavior, she said, so kindly, “I hope he gets home safely.”

The other old lady was me. As he honked at me and sped passed, I honked right back, saying, “Dude, what is your problem?”

My eighty-nine year old mother said, “Well, he’s in a hurry.”

I judged him by his intentionally rude, hateful gesture, and his hostile, aggressive driving. My kind mother offered grace.

I took it personally while she prayed for his safety.

When will I be as gentle and kind as she?

I was reading through my Bible App just that morning and next to the passage that says I should exhibit love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control, I had added a note that said, “WORK on kindness.”

This ‘bird-flipping man’ has led me to believe that I need to work also on self-control, gentleness, and patience.

I am thankful for the beautiful role model who was in the car with me on our way to eat ice cream. She showed me the correct response to the situation.

I am also thankful to see that there is more of my Character that needs to be yielded to God.

I do hope you made it home safely, Bird-Flipping, Lesson-Teaching man.

I do. ~~~~~

If you don’t know:

‘flipping the bird’ is a rude gesture associated with the worst of all vulgar words.

I met a new Wind.

I asked him, “From where did you come, and where are you going?”

He answered, “I came from where I was. I am going to where I will be.”

It struck me; our commonality.

“Are you blown by force or do you choose your path? Do you meander through the glade and whisper through the trees, or are you compelled along by nature’s cruelty?

“I ask you the same,” said the wind in a lofty breeze. “Why are you here to question me?

Do you chose your path? I must boldly ask.

We met in the the moment you saw my force. I would not have stopped but you questioned my course.

Be on your way now, to tell your tale of when you spoke with the wind.

Go where you are going, but remember where you have been.”

I met a new Wind.

I had a friend named Flip.

Flip owned, and operated a prosperous lawn and garden center.

Flip took a chance on me, one with no experience growing anything, and hired me, as his first seasonal employee.

One day Flip decided to take lunch offsite. He gave me detailed instruction on what he needed me to do while he was gone.

He needed me to ‘deadhead’ the purple petunias by removing the spent blooms down to the next leaf joint. He explained that by removing the faded flowers, the plant would continue producing new flowers, and would stay in bloom longer.

Purple petunias are my favorite with their deep purple color and their faint, mysterious scent.

I was so happy to have a task that was uncomplicated and yet would continue the cycle of glorious petunia purple-ness.

I was happy to have the task completed as I saw him pulling into the parking lot. I had deadheaded the petunias, cleaned up my mess, and displayed the baskets along with the other flowers.

As Flip walked towards me his face showed dismay. It was not the dismay I expected. He was confounded as he asked, “What did you do?!”

I was startled, since I did what he asked me to do.

“No. No. No! I asked you to deadhead them. You have removed all the blooms.”

He then showed me what the new blooms looked like and questioned me. “Don’t you see the difference?”

I hadn’t noticed a difference until he pointed it out to me. The new and old blooms had looked the same with just subtle differences that I will now forever remember.

Flip.

Thank you for not getting hostile or mad. Thank you for using that moment to train me further in my knowledge of plant cycles, growth, and care.

Thank you most of all for teaching me how to rectify a plant-based mistake.

Fertilize it with phosphate, with potash, and give it time. It will bloom again.

I remember your lesson Flip.

I apply it often.

*Learn bloom stages.

*For vigorous growth, remove the dead blooms.

*When I cut away the wrong things, do damage control by adding nutrients.

*Most important: give it time.

And so I will Flip- so I will.

The diamonds in the grass

The diamonds in the skies

Are diamonds in my heart

And diamonds in my eyes.

Surprised the thirsty Earth

The gentle pouring Rain

Was washing clean the dirt

While easing parching pain.

Droplets of dew on grass

Sparkles of stars in sky

Ignited hope in heart

Renewed love in my eyes.

Diamonds clear

Conquer fear.

The diamonds in my eyes.

All the tears I cried

on the day you died

are stored in a jar

on the Moon or on a star.

They shine bright, through darkened night,

by the light of Moon or Star.

The tears, the tears are stored

in a jar, in a jar— oh Lord.

They shine bright

Though darkening night,

by the light, the light

of a Star.

Tears— my tears;

In a jar, in a jar.

Human Resource jargon is the worst.

If you want me to ‘Reach out’ to someone, what happens if we touch? Is that terminable? Shouldn’t I just make a quick call?

If you want to be ‘Fully Transparent’ will I just hear a disembodied voice?

This brings me to another question… why work? If you have the ability to be fully transparent; go National! Call the tabloids, or the network news. You have an incredible skill. It has to be on the Super Hero list of skills.

Full Disclosure. Why? Partial disclosure is more than I can possibly bear.

HR Jargon; it makes me laugh.

My daddy had an annoying habit.

When I lost something, which was quite often, he would ask me where I had it last.

As a teenager, I always wanted to reply, “Einstein, if I knew where I had it last, I’d know where it is.”

I was a very compliant child, so I just bit my tongue in frustration and continued my search.

One day my dad and I connected in some strange cosmic anomaly. He realized my frustrations and asked me why I was so mad at him.

“It makes me so mad because if I knew where I had it last, I would know where it is,” I replied.

“No. If you know where you ‘think you had it last’ we can start from there and try to reconstruct where you went, or what you did next,” said my wise father.

The cosmic anomaly opened my eyes to a new way of thinking.

First, my daddy wasn’t trying to irritate me, he was trying to help. Second, strange cosmic anomalies do exist. Third, and most important to me is, “Where DID I have it last?”

My glasses, my phone, my keys, my sanity, my memory… when I follow the ‘where did I have it last’ method, I almost always recover that thing which I lost.

It works well for glasses, phones, and keys…

my sanity, my memory… these… ?

Where DID I have them last?

I have a grandson who is unbelievably curious.

He has an incredible gift.

He finds critters.

It is remarkable. As the rest of humanity goes about their mundane tasks, Zeke finds salamanders, snails, lizards and beetles.

He will flush a turtle out of an underground home that no one knew was there.

No one knew, but Zeke.

I have marveled at the innate ability he has. Then I realized, Zeke found, because Zeke looked.

Zeke knows of the mysterious creatures abounding in nature, so he, with childlike faith seeks them, and finds them.

It has started an inward journey in my heart that began with the question, “What am I seeking?”

Zeke’s wisdom, the wisdom of a child, spurs me on with the excited exclamation,

“Just look!”

As with the physical things, my observant grandson finds, I desire to find God.

As the rest of humanity goes through their mundane tasks, I want to find the narrow path through Life’s many uncertainties.

I believe I will.

I, like Zeke, will find, because I will look.

I will just LOOK.

My world stopped spinning when I heard.

The earth continued in its orbit, carrying me with it, but time, as I know it, stopped.

Blood froze in my veins, movement, and momentum, impossible, as I struggled to process even a simple thought.

Those around me continued in the minutia of life while I was left gasping for breath and being.

Nothing pierced the unreality.

Nothing penetrated the solitude or the incapacitating silence.

On the day you took your life, you left me with nothing but frozen tears and unbearable unbelief.

I had no idea your pain was so overwhelming.

I hate that you felt desperate.

I hate that I had no idea.

I hate that I lost an irreplaceable part of my soul.

My-Boy.

Why did you go?

I hate the idea that I have no idea.

Suicide:

I hate you. I hate the incomprehensible lie you tell. I hate your devastation.

I hate you.

I often write about Dawn and gentle breezes, of the wind and birds.

I write of these because of the deep darkness and gale-force winds I have experienced in my life.

I write of them from a perspective of deep gratitude.

I write of them for my future self, to remind her of beauty and the power of soul solace.

I have lived with mental illness, untimely death, tragic consequences, and through the suicide of one who was part of my soul.

My writings are simplistic.

I am not.

I am thankful that through my darkest night, there was meaning.

I was unaware at the time that I was growing.

I write to encourage those who need an anchor in a stormy sea.

I write for those blinded by hurricane-force winds.

I write for me, and I write for you.

Storms are not a constant.

Growth is often painful and seemingly unbearable.

There is, however, True Light.

There is Reason.

Hold tight.

Life is precious.

Even when blinded by pain, I purpose to seek momentum.

Will you?

Hold tight.

You have meaning.

Tomorrow will dawn. Please be here.