…swallowed up

…the trumpet sounds …troops recalled to battle

startled and staggering they arrive as the territory is bombarded and overtaken

anxiety soars …immobilizes

although their location remains unchanged, stunned they are to be once again called up to serve

certain they were, after the last time, that this war was over…

at least it was the resounding hope…

the jaws of depression closed around me….and swallowed me up once again

…and I am left to wonder how I will emerge this time …

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

in the shadow…

In the shadow…anxiety lurks
Sadness waits… Curls it’s fingers around my ankles as I pass
Before I know it my chest seizes
I become frantic inside, tears sting my eyes still searching for that which has touched me
My body feels heavy, my mind struggles to be positive and hopeful
I know the mind is powerful… The battle ensues… I cannot do it on my own…cannot seem to escape fully the shadow… the shadow of depression that I long to be rescued from…the shadow that is all too real…

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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looking for time…

Waking up early for more time in the day… More time to do more…

Rushing to get it all done or just shutting down and avoiding it all together because that just seems easier…

Overwhelmed by it all… Closing up even more and retreating as time slips faster into the darkness of my curled up self…

Taking the first step…being brave… Mornings first deep breath and stretch, I find thankfulness for waking…

I pause…and breathe … and grow…and awaken to the quiet, find comfort in it, restoration in it

I hear birds outside and inhale the richness of my freshly brewed coffee… Has it ever smelled so good?

This moment of pause becomes the foundation of my day… In this moment of pause, I have gained time …somehow stretched my minutes, and enjoyed it… I inhale the truth of Be still…and know …I exhale and sink into this cozy place

God whispers to me in those moments and He says just what I need to hear…’ You do not need time to do more… You need more time of doing less’