shadow of me…

Me…my shadow
in my shadow I am expressionless…

In my shadow you cannot see the the weariness …the heaviness of my heart that I wear in my sleeve…

all is masked by the outline of me…in my shadow

in my shadow my flaws are hidden
my distress unseen…

my shadow is comforted… Loved… warmed by the Son…the light…

unconditionally and completely…in my shadow

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…walking the blurred line

Dreams they come
muddled and fragmented
flowing together in pieces of one another…
a representation of the patterns of my thoughts that during the day are maneuverable … manageable at the least…
at night they swirl and combine into a most ominous mix of terror and confusion… leaving me exhausted as I wake to sort through for truth amongst it all…a blurred line it becomes between sleep and wakeful states…

…the mission

I strain to hear the gentleness of the raindrops on the leaves of the trees

Stretch to breathe in the fragrant air of the approaching storm

Eyes alert to see the vivid streaks light up the sky before me

I wait…for some movement…some feeling…some stirring no matter how faint… Some reaction to the external…

I’m on a mission…a mission to feel…to know without question I am a part of the world that surrounds me

A mission to make my way out of the thickness…the heaviness that is cement…forbidding me to move… To respond outside of these tears

…my island

my island ….

I have a little island though its no paradise
No GPS can get me there…. I just find myself there from time to time
It’s not serene or a place to entertain
Even I don’t wish to be there
On this island I am serenaded by the song ‘you’re not enough’

Pieces of my shipwrecked self wash up on the shore…random shattered ness that taunts
Reminders of failure…of fault and of shame
Scattered pieces of my brokenness…

My island is where all I need is Jesus because when I’m on my island Jesus is the only certainty I have…

In my island moments He makes me whole

For now I wait… For my escape from this place
Not knowing the form my rescue will take…

Striving for awareness …the hope not to miss the arrival…the gentle voice that coaxes me back to the mainland

The cloudless blue sky so vivid and the warmth of the sun reminding me of life…brilliant and penetrating as it encourages me to breathe once again within my own skin…

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little curator…

So quiet you arrived
Gentle curls and stunning blue eyes that searched… Observed and took it all in…

Your soft spokenness grew to excited sharing..eyebrows raised, sparkles in your eyes like fireflies dancing on a summers eve

Your gentle quiet nature a comfort to your friends
Gathered close…bent noggins to hear your amazing ideas…kept in inventory inside your own museum…

Artifacts like treasure you collect in your heart…fossils of the brief years you carry and the many years to come

Taller you have grown…your voice more commanding yet still sweet…treasuring your days as your history grows

I smile … thankful to have taught you and learned from you…stay gentle little curator…

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chrysanthemum girl

When we met I asked myself if I was meeting my very own preschool self as memories of my earliest years flooded in
Years that surely shaped the teacher in me…

So poised and confident you stood already embracing your teacher self…so comfortable and aware

Others drawn to you as even they too could see the leader in you…

You are bold like the chrysanthemum bringing joy in the crispness of Autumn…

You are a hearty flower strong and beautiful I will miss watering you and watching you grow…

…the journey

I am a work in progress… I am aware that I am a work in progress… I am choosing to be an active participant in this process of growth.

Owning that I am a work in process is part of my growth… It’s a journey…we are all on one. There are times when I have kicked and screamed along the way, I can remember times of gripping onto the doorframe as the current of this journey insisted I be propelled forward despite my protest…so many times I have been perfectly content to set up camp… make my air bed nice and cozy, build a stunning fire and settle in. This I know is a coping mechanism…I recall many times in my life that I have tried this strategy. One time in particular, I was sharing with a close and dear friend who told me with some degree of sternness and a whole lot of love: I see and hear how you are feeling right now and I am so sorry you are in this place, however, you may NOT set up camp here. You must pack up the tent and collect yourself… gather what you need and move forward. Your journey is about growing… ‘wave to the folks in that town… ’cause you’re just passing through’, she said. She checked in on me by phone, via email and in person throughout this trying time to be certain I had travelled safely through this town I thought for sure was to be my next place of residence. She loved me, she encouraged me, she saw things that I did not see.

Along this journey, I have gathered certain tools I thought were helpful but am now growing to know that I may also stop using tools that are no longer working for me. This is NOT easy! (Added to the list of things I am working on) . After all, it’s hard to be a work in progress…

I look at it this way… I am thankful for my knowing … I want to be a part of my growth, to encourage and love myself… I want to do my best to be the light Jesus intends for me to be…

I am a work in progress… and today I am encouraged.

Take time today to think about where you are at in your own journey… we are ALL on one…Are you pitching your tent in a town you should just be passing through ? Are you holding the doorframe as the flood of the current rushes through?

I would encourage you to embrace your journey … It’s YOURS! Be kind to yourself, allow yourself grace… ask for help when you need it and cry when you need to… When trusted others seek to assure you and help you ‘un’ pitch your tent… Let them… We all need one another… and when you find a tool in your box that isn’t working anymore… toss it out the window on your way outta Dodge!