Blue like a river

Sweet peace slides through my fingers like river water. 
I can feel it's ebb and flow,
tugging at my heart, my mind. 

There and then gone,
It leaves behind a sad hunger in my soul, 
and a longing for it's cool refreshment.

My Heart's Song

Awareness beckons.
Calling my mind to the surface,
towards consciousness,
away from dreams of the night.

Unwaveringly, my mind sets off on a road all it's own.
I travel a well worn route, walk it daily.
Down the miles and the years to where my children dwell.
But they are children no longer, these sons of mine.
Men now, years past mothering and the need for one.

Still it is a mother's heart that beats in my chest.
A drum pounding a song to my sons grown so far from me.
An anthem that could not be stopped if I desired it so.
The lullaby they listened to under my ribs
as they lay waiting to burst forth into the world.
My heart will sing this litany
till the last beat quiets in my chest.

A canticle so familiar and true,
strummed on my heartstrings
the moment I first beheld them.
When my heart swelled beyond reason,
so full of amazement and joy
that it must surely burst.

The lyrics never change.
They are the same, enduring.
Words of love and hope.
An acclamation brimming with motherly pride..
It is an ode full of joy and anticipation,
for who they are and who they will become.

It is a quiet hymn of thankfulness.
For I am blessed to know them,
to have held them in my arms.
It is a chant to the world
that I am holding them still.
In my heart. In my mind.
In my prayers.

My song is full and pouring over,
an aria that runs in an endless river
from my heart to theirs.
I am convinced this refrain will echo
down the years.
Long after I am gone from this place.

If they listen closely,
with their hearts open wide.
I believe.
They will catch the melody
of my heart's song,

Still drifting to them on the breeze...

Just an old chunk of wood

At first I see nothing beyond the familiar form.

The "me" I have become over the years.

The hardened block of who I am.

Recently though, life has come at me like an axe.
The first swing sliced cleanly through the branches of who I believe I am. It is now busy lopping away the bark covering the persona I have unknowingly created.

This slashing is painful to the extreme.
I wonder if can survive this much chiseling and gouging. It seems there may be nothing recognizable left.

I study my reflection.

It's still me that stares back, yet not me.

Hmm, something  new there, just behind the eyes.

Though still raw and rough hewn to behold,

it's evident.  A transformation is taking place.

An epiphany surfaces,
I am being sculpted.

A craftsman has eyed this timber it seems.
Considered it's natural shape and bend.
Determined the best means to free the heart within.
Artistic license is being taken.

This artist will shape me as he sees fit,
skillfully carving me into something useful.
My true grain is slowly beginning to show.

I am more than a little surprised.

The color is deeper and richer than I thought likely.
Much more real this "new" me.

I know this transformation is nowhere near complete.
So much more work to be done.
I can't imagine what the sanding process will entail.
When finished,  I cannot fathom who I will be,
or what I will look like.

Though still painful to endure,
I think I've found the key.

To abide this refinement,

I cannot not fight against my sculptor's hand.
I must yield to his touch. Trust the skill of his knife.
I will wait patiently..

and let the chips fall where they may..

A Hard Look in the Mirror..

This entry was difficult to write, so I know it will be uncomfortable to read. It may make you squirm a little. But man or woman, parent or spouse, I pray if you see yourself here, even a little bit, these words of mine will encourage you to change and to grow.

I know of what I speak. This is a lesson learned in the hardest possible way, by wielding my words as a weapon and seeing the injured fall under the weight of them. It is an offense I detest in myself. Oh, to unsay a lifetime of thoughtless words that have pierced my loved ones. But no. Once airborne they cannot be drawn back, and they echo into eternity.

Like a blade, harsh words lay the victim wide. Yet we throw them about with no regard to the pain they cause. Apologize as we might, the damage is done. The wounded, though they forgive us, will nonetheless bear a scar.

If I can enlighten one person to the devastation of this, then these words are not in vain. So dear friends, this is my love letter to you:


I heard you today. You and your little family enjoying a mall lunch at the food court, your children playing in the fountain. So entertaining to watch, such a perfect little family. Then it happened.

I saw the daggers fly from your lips. Straight toward your wife's heart, they hit their target full on. Her shoulders sagged. Your words knocked the wind out of her, visibly crumbling her self-worth. I don't believe you realize the power of your words.

Like a snake, your criticism wrapped around her, crushing her spirit. Your assessment of her inadequacies was like a knife. You were probably trying to motivate her, but you shamed her instead. Though only a onlooker, your words stung me too. I'm sure you love her, I can see that you love her, but you wield your words like a club. I fear you will beat her to death with them.

Still, behind the hurt in her eyes, I could see that she adores you. She thinks you hung the moon. Young man, prove it's true. Be the person she thinks you are. Walk in grace and integrity, curb your tongue.

You are called to be her protector, her safe place, not her judge, not her jury. Not one more voice in a world of voices that tramples her down. A gift to you, she was created from God's own heart, made beautiful inside and out. He knows and loves her as she is right now, just as he does you.

I'm sure it would shock you, if someone told you how you sound. But, be it adult or child, if there is little feeling of acceptance, understanding and respect between two people, if one is hurting, is belittled or mocked by the other; "can't you do anything right?", "you're so lazy", "are you an idiot?" that person is verbally battered.

Some would justify, "Being nice doesn't work. They've got to learn to take it. I'm doing it for their own good, to help them become a better person." But another might ask, does verbal abuse ever make someone a better, healthier person? Does it ever enrich the relationship? Does it ever show love?

For some unfathomable reason, we seem to be the hardest on the ones we love the most. To our family we often speak with severity, using words we would never utter to a friend, an acquaintance, or a even a stranger. Why do we have this need to be judge over another? Why the desire to "fix" our loved ones, to point out their shortcomings, when we should be working our own?

How confusing, the heart. How devious the tongue. (you can read more on this: James 3:2-12)

But of course, thankfully, there is a wonderfully redeeming flip-side. The tongue can speak joy and peace as healing as any balm. Soothing, they bless both the hearer and the speaker. Sweet words make our hearts sing. Words of affirmation and acceptance build us up. They help us stand taller and make us feel loved and appreciated, safe and warm. They beget kind words in return. They teach our children the power of kindness.

Something harshness can never do, words of encouragement easily accomplish, for they cause us to bloom. Like spring rain, they create in us a desire to grow, to reach for the sky. To be our best. And it's in this process that we all become richer, fuller and more complete.

What a contrast. Words can cut or they can heal. Bring pain or comfort, sadness or joy. Death and life it seems, are in the power of the tongue.

Choose life.

'Nuff said.

Butterfly Love, the waiting game.

Hello? Tap, tap. Is this thing on? Excuse me, young people, your attention for just a moment please. Pam feels the need to yammer..

If I could impart one thing I have learned about love, it would be this. Guard your heart like a treasure.

Also, don’t rush to give your heart away...protect it from being dulled by casual encounters and...BELIEVE THAT LOVE IS WORTH WAITING FOR. Whoa, all that just sort of tumbled out, sorry. It was WAY more than one thing. But really..

I know, I know, Valentine's Day is practically here. Don't get me started.. Okay, I'll say it. I don't believe V-Day is a real holiday. I think it's a marketing creation. A total Hallmark shakedown.

Worse than not being Irish on St. Patrick's Day, it's a "holiday" that can leave you feeling remarkably unloved if you aren't in a relationship. Or if you are, but your significant other believes that when you say "Honey, you don't need to get me anything", you really mean it.
Anyway...

Love. It's everywhere. Love is in the air, in our hearts, on our minds. In movies, books, magazines, TV, billboards, argh! "Love" is crammed down our throats at every turn. Beautiful, sexy people throwing themselves at each other left and right. Of course we want that. We want that NOW! Don't we? We should HURRY! Shouldn't we?

The answer is no. Wait. What? That's right, I said no. Easy does it, darlings. I know "love" sounds wonderful and we SO want romance in our lives, but "real" love is a pretty serious pursuit. Because boiled down to it's essence, true love is sacrifice. But that's a story for a different day, for now let's talk about the waiting.

Consider the butterfly, (lets make it a girl butterfly, although this totally applies to guys too. They can be moths, practically the same thing, a little more macho and not nearly as cute. Obviously.) So. The butterfly goes through all sorts of stages before she is ever ready to fly. As an egg, there she sits, waiting. Caterpillar, growing and waiting. Pupa, more waiting.

Finally she emerges from her cocoon as a gorgeous winged being and off she soars on the breeze, right? Wrong. If she steps off the branch too soon, she will crash to the ground, most likely injuring herself in the process, perhaps permanently. So, guess what she has to do. This is the hard part. She waits.

But she's not sitting there twiddling her antenna waiting for Mr. Right Breeze to come along. No, her waiting is purposeful. She's busy, very busy. Maturing. Because, even though she is fully grown, her parts are all there and she has everything she needs to fly, she's a baby. A baby butterfly, one that still has a lot of developing to do. She's engaged in strength training for flight that takes time and effort.

She needs time for her wings to unfurl, time for them to mature and dry. She'll need to try her wings out a little, fluttering them while still holding tight to the branch. All this HAS to transpire before she can actually lift off. Only once she has patiently prepared herself, can she leap into the wind. It's the same with our hearts.

Sound boring? Lonely? It shouldn't be. Just the opposite, it should be a seriously appealing endeavor. You've got time on your side and you've got freedom. Time to figure out who the heck you are, and who you want to become. That will keep you busy for a decade or so anyway.

You should have the freedom to let your adult personality unfold and grow without the pressure to "act" fully mature that a serious relationship brings with it. You need time to have CAREFREE SHENANIGANS! My wise little Ellakins once advised me that "fun is everywhere if I would just see it".

The same holds true for friends. Future friends are all around you. Before you get too busy with being all grown-up, get out there and forge a few friendships that will last your lifetime. The opposite gender is an intriguing species, and I've heard they can make wonderful friends.

This is your time between times. Please value it. You are obviously no longer a child, but a relationship is NOT what makes you an adult. It should NEVER define who "you" are. Try not to run so fast from your youth that you leave your innocence behind, or rush blindly into the complicated relationships of adulthood with your wings still damp. If you do, you may tumble to earth, perhaps to struggle broken-winged and broken-hearted just above the ground.

Patience my precious friend, enjoy getting comfortable in your own skin. Then when your wings are fully dried and Mr. Truly Right comes breezing in, you can turn your eyes to the sky, take the leap.... and let your heart soar!

Thank you for your attention. Have a lovely day. <3