Tag Archives: faith

I AM…

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18

Truth revealed through a tender heart
The hands shaping wounds into works of art
Eyes that see beauty in the deepest of flaws
Who gives hope to every hopeless cause
Foundation when everything trembles around
What lifts your spirit when you’ve lost ground
The Rock of Ages in your sinking sands
A quiet still voice against the world’s demands
Maker of ways when there’s no way out
Reason for believing when filled with doubt
The light of salvation when you’ve given up
The end of thirst when you drink from my cup
Everything good beneath your broken view
Love, the Creator, and I dwell within you

This is more than a declaration of my spiritual beliefs. Each statement above represents each individual’s capacity to receive and give and BE love. There is a way to convey truth that isn’t harmful, threatening or hurtful in its delivery and intent. While some express an ease in living in denial or ignorance; this perspective is disingenuous to one’s true being. Truth isn’t always welcome, and it often travels on airs of subjectivity, causing the hearer to tune out. However, whether the hearer is someone else or you, learning to deliver and receive and BE truth is necessary to realizing a life of integrity.

Everyone is wounded. Everyone has hidden parts. Often, we sacrifice the fullness of life by constantly licking those wounds or hiding behind those secret places of hurt and insecurity. Overcoming isn’t about ignoring or forgetting; it’s about learning, reshaping and offering a testimony. What good is any pain if you do not grow from it? What good are your past experiences, if they are not used to help others going through similar trials? The key word being “good”… what “good” can come of the bad you’ve known?

Love is blind. No, it is not! Love sees all, and accepts all for what it is. Yes, we want the best for and of ourselves and those we care about… some of us even want the best for and of the world at large. But let’s be honest, nothing in this life is perfect (whatever perfect means). Criticism reigns within and without on so many levels, as this world dictates a clone mentality… look like this… think like that… measure your being up against the skew of a few. Beautiful is what makes you – YOU. What makes you special… physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually… is that which defines your unique contribution to the universe. Sameness is like listening to an orchestra and hearing only one note.

Who or what is your “go to” when you feel defeated? They say misery loves company. Well, I know nothing draws out darkness like light; it draws it and drowns it with hope and stability, pouring out a reassurance which lets you know that you will survive the sinking ship. Some are blessed to have others in their lives who serve as a rock; others are blessed to be that rock; and, many can only find the source of comfort they need beyond humanity’s angels. If you don’t have a source of uplifting… reach out, because there is ALWAYS someone willing to share joy with another’s heart.

Be still my aching heart. There is holiness in being still, in bringing peace to all the beating impulses of the mind and body. We often want to run, act, react, force, move, control… and in those desires, we lose our center. Rashness and anxiousness take over and master our wills and senses as we stand in defensiveness against the world. But in the stillness… in the calm… in the meditation… in the prayer… in the soothing whisper of a loved one, we can regain composure, perspective and presence. We must remember to carry a stillness within to balance the chaos among us.

Some believe in karma, while others see no consequence. Some believe everything happens for a reason, while others believe in chance. Some believe in free will, while others believe in destiny. Some believe in judgment. Some believe in nothing at all. Most, I think, believe in some combination of these. My faith rests in the guidance and protection of my God, Yahweh, while others define the Creator in other ways, if they, in fact, believe in a Creator. Even for the non-spiritual, however, there has to be a driving force internally or externally which prods one to persevere. Perhaps it is the human condition for them. I know, for me, too many miracles have occurred… too many paths have been uncovered… too many chances have been bestowed… too many tragedies have been survived… too many endings have been avoided… and too many unimaginable blessings have adorned my life for me to not believe in something greater than myself… greater than humanity… greater than this world.

This world confines, speaks doubt and negativity, and finds ways to extinguish the spirit of innocence and altruism. And yet, here we are. You and I, he and she, us and them… constantly fighting to reveal something beautiful, engaging, inspiring, and evolving… something so much more than what exists on the surface of existence. In as much as God is here for me, I am here for you, and you are here for someone else. We are all capable of leading someone else somewhere better; and, through the process, will find ourselves improved.

Everlasting life in His cup… the salvation of His sacrifice… the goodness He creates from our falls and failures… yes, these are my beliefs… my mantras… my “self-talk.” How similar or dissimilar these are from other faiths, I do not know. I do know that LOVE in and of itself is life giving. I do know that sharing LOVE with others is contagious and has brought many souls out of isolation and suffering. I do know that LOVE has seen through the dark, ugly and hateful, and has transformed hardened hearts and vexatious minds into completely new spirits of joy and abundance. I do know the power of LOVE… in God… in myself… and in you.

Challenge for Growth Prompt #5: I Am Love

Wings

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4

Come float upon the breaths which gift the spirit’s flight
Weaving through each finger the feathers of hope’s delight
Knowing not what lies beyond horizon’s reddened light
Still a worthy venture, clawing past despairing night

Flying high on faith, within the broken heart’s cocoon
Landing on the Rock to bask away life’s deepest wounds
Wading in the glory, for every midnight has its moon
Dancing with the story, for every note reveals a rune

Compiling pieces of the journey into a span far and wide
Watching soul begin to soar as all but joy will soon subside
Casting light between all clouds, on these blessed wings I ride
Ensuing peace, for everything a rightful place beneath God’s eyes

For Dungeon Prompts: Using our Words for Spreading Joy

Anew

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8

Drifting into tainted places
Swallowing the world’s disgraces
Falling with the empty faces
Longing for Your Heart

Landing where the earth caves in
Bankrupt from invested sins
Ending where You must begin
Running back to start

Employing only one solution
Reckoned into absolution
Overcoming life’s destitution
By way of Love’s new mark

Giving up the walk alone
Unchained from all the darkness sewn
Here’s a life that’s not my own
The All redeems the part

Proof is found in the belonging
Celebrating its homecoming
Surrendered… held… still unmoving
This soul – Your work of art

Knowing you’re the great Creator
Stirring up the heart of nature
Drawing creature to the Maker
Now Your Will imparts

Redemption

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7

When the beginning of the end opened my eyes,
life capsized for the drowning of my soul.
Swallowed whole into the belly of darkness, this
starkness of disillusionment made me fold.
Distant and cold, I drifted through space
unlaced from the purpose of my being, not
knowing the needing in my displacement, the
torment of existence without redeeming. The
seeming overwhelmed. Meaning lost in sacrifice –
a constant price for the deeply seeded seething.
Then, seeing pierced my heart to restart
and apart fell my context for breathing.
The receiving – a reconstruction of my worth:
Love’s rebirth into eternity’s foundation.
Spirit awakened and inflamed to the core,
now adorned with joy, spitting game to nations
by way of salvation through mercy’s open door.
What’s more, with this sifting comes a granting
to hold the ranting and give the lifting – a
daily gifting of hand and hope, an expanding
prism scope of the brilliant shades of faith; just
a taste of the depth of deliverance, displayed
with reverence for God’s illuminating face. Wasted
no longer – self salvaged by everlasting grace.

For Dungeon Prompts: We all have a redemption song.  What is yours?

Fingerprints

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9

Impressions more than linger
in the complex layers of my heart
From start to finish, your threads dominate
this fabric of being, scripted in love
I see only so much, and in that portion;
not nearly enough of what I should
Ignorance and folly abounds, and still,
you dance on my breaths and
glisten from my eyes; gifting
my presence with yours
Anything I adore is child’s play
beside the infinite trembling of my soul
within the reverent contemplation
of your affection for me
All these broken pieces giving meaning
to my tenderness, the language of your
tongue on despairing ears; and
purpose to my pores, which
whisper understanding,
often beyond reason
because you need none
In stark conflict with self, I bleed you
through worldly wounds beyond
my comprehension; and am warmed
knowing grace is your answer,
when mercy is mine
Veins empower insubordination, but
a child of Light can never fall far;
spirit-bound, I am trussed to your
essence for eternity
Every moment on the scale of forever,
I will rest in the center of your hand,
folding into the lines of your everlasting
fingerprints, from which I was formed.

Holding Composition

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15

The Unknown Righteous_Jerusalem Square of Remembrance

Resurrected bits and pieces resist the crumble,

while vices mumble in these halls, leaning

hard against these walls.

And though I’m home,

I feel alone,

listening for answers my heart can’t hold.

These scenes aren’t foreign,

but I am…

not fitting this skin I’m held in;

needing new form and parcel

for this breath of partial

blowing through my frame.

Reaching for fulfilled me,

tripping over empty;

vacant lots where impressions stayed.

Wanting Him to have His way, while

salted sores impose delay;

how can I rinse away these stains

from nature’s stone?

On my own, fighting in faith,

as demolitions swing their fates;

this foundation feels the quake

… something is lost.

But for the cause, I stay awake,

vigilant for watching’s sake; a

lighthouse beaming hopeful refuge

through these eyes.

Unwelcome spies casting shades,

by this prayer eclipses fade;

flailing forms dissipate as dawn comes nigh.

Structure abides for one more ride,

but I confess this space confines

and, with it, time defies me;

pinching corners in the sphere

of my timeless here.

I just want to be –

without then or there or them or he…

free of now’s dichotomy.

Newness in a soul’s rebirth,

dropped face down in yester’s dearth;

how the pressure closes in on will.

And still, I am the pillar rising high,

holding form and sowing life, while

all the holes beneath the worth

keep me tethered to sinking earth.

Teeter

by

9

teeter_n2pub_credit

This silly world of ups and downs,
grasping for earth and clouds
in disproportionate measure;
fiening for frivolous work and
intensified pleasures.
Where is the weight of existence
when hearts are heavier than
the feathery disposition of mind-kind?
Man is but thought and flesh,
losing soul in the center,
casting out his Inventor for the
adulteration of both.
Full scope narrows as the
cascading of false joys smother;
tethering one lie to another, and so
we suffocate in the smokescreen
that holds our baited breath.
Drawing in deeply upon the
staleness of – this is all –
and there life falls into the void.
Who is left annoyed by this
emptiness of being, this
looking without seeing, this
thinking without knowing, this
taking without needing, this
acting without feeling?
Treachery is breeding, while
balance flees its cause, leaving
today’s teeter in the shadow
of tomorrow’s cost.

Image credit: n2pub.com

Unto You

by

32

Bellows burst open the careful seaming of my soul,
as I lift up my being to the Lord.
Wearing this offering best with abandon; if I
arrived clothed, soon I won’t be anymore.
Love rises from these faults and failures, like
the trembling chords of freedom’s first cry.
Your embrace unfolds all my secrets,
taking death to renew this child’s life.
Out loud, You shine through exalting’s stance;
in palms’ submitting, face’s illuminating,
eyes’ pouring out of your proof, while feet
dance in the rivers of Glory’s wading.
My tongue swells with praise, and these days
fade with moments of profound Presence.
With the salted wet pores which seep my wear, I
wipe away this playground’s dust from my senses,
leaving room for your restoration only.
Cleanse my spirit with angels’ harmony:
the blistering fire; the smoldering flame; the
gentle flicker… all the same, engulfing me.
The sound of your grace cannot be named;
the depth of your mercy to no phrasing belongs.
All I can offer in the surrender of my all –
the float of my voice upon the heart of my song.

For Dungeon Prompt: Take Me To Church

He Laughs

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17

He’s tickled through the seasons…
and I’m the reason.
Sometimes, He laughs so hard, He cries;
especially, when I am wise and
rest assured that tomorrow’s figured out.
What is that about?
He grins;
wiping His eyes from winter’s night
to spring’s daylight,
shaking off all those tears.

But summer bore my soul…
and I’m gifted in this role.
I can talk the talk
and walk the walk, taking
troubles with an easy stride.
Is that right?
He shakes His head;
letting summer’s streak turn up the heat
‘til every feat
feels like scaling the Himalayas.

Now, really, how hard can it be?
Recovery is a breeze…
I’ve fallen hard with autumn’s blow, and
at this age I ought to know just how to
pick up all the pieces and move on.
Oh, girl, come on!
His insides chuckle;
while He watches my knees buckle,
posture truckled
low beneath the changing winds.

I say, “Look, God, let’s get this straight!
Through all your plans, I bear the weight,
weather storms and give you praise;
yet, mysteries compose my days.”
Roaring, sparks and rolling seas…
Well, I’ll be!
He slaps His knee;
catching breath for words with me.
Lovely child, do see…
you project for just one life; I, for eternity.

For Dungeon Prompt: Making God Laugh

Waking

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2

Waking Image

Step by step, I’m taken
Pulled deeper into awaken
Would’ve slept sounder had I known I’d rise to this.

Without remiss, I own the barter
Served the sentence for the charter
Becoming new, I’ve grown to breathe inside the bliss.

To feel the bursting open
To hear what’s never spoken
With every sigh, I serve the universe my kiss.

Letting go and taking in
As it all gathers within
With certainty, my eyes now pierce the groggy mist.

Unfathomed warmth surrounds
While I chill upon these grounds
Amidst the noise, my heart’s bound to the cosmic hiss.

Thank you Lord for the stirring
Every stretch in this emerging
Dawning way, stay my will at high noon’s tryst.

Entrusted

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9

What does it matter –

Inheritance scattered,
equality tattered;
who am I to be flattered by this portion I hold?

I sit to keep from falling,
sometimes run from the calling;
if I stand up to the mauling, will I fold?

Whipping out this tape to measure,
scoffing at this so-called treasure;
why not ride out life until the days grow old?

Hands stretched out, feeling about –
no straight line for this account;
how can life amount to more than what unfolds?

Right or wrong, we’re of one song;
each note unequivocally belongs,
as we strum together throngs to form the whole.

Every sound can be laid down
or lifted high with great resound,
only bound by those convictions of the soul.

With deep regard through darkest nights,
search the stars for Heaven’s lights;
embrace birthright for therein shines divinity’s role.

Entrusted by the hand of God,
all lives bear seeds to feed the sod.
Harvest the fruits to spread the love which bore your mold.

For Dungeon Prompt: Myth Making. The life lesson I share is that although we all are granted unequal portions in life, it is our onus to realize our worth through God’s eyes; and in accordance with His living trust for us, multiply and distribute our fruits abundantly for the good of all who dwell in this time and place and beyond.

This Labor

by

7

Heart to the grindstone…
There’s no void to fill,
only the struggle of human will.
Levitation is heavy in this
soul-dropping plane of existence.
Beyond any repentance –
the unforgiving gavel of
the daily unravel.
Sizing up situations with the
skins I tailor:
dressing down victories and
dressing up failures, but these
shoes never change.
The tread is long and light.
I wear this fight
in the ease of my stride, while the
bleed of my tears tell me
I’m still alive.
From the gritty beginnings, to the
forums of scholars; from
praying for ends, to the
giving of dollars; from the
shelter of nana and her teachings
of Zion, to the
innocence of love lost in the
dens of the lions…
This rounding out of “here”
drives my spirit to “there” and
I feel, but don’t flinch anymore.
What’s more, my falls don’t sink,
even when death seems like
more than a blink –
I linger in the quiet place,
‘til rise reintroduces itself by grace.
I work hard at this balance;
this artful toil of being present
where my body belongs, but
the rest of me doesn’t.
Lowly peasant teetering
beneath this diadem of glory;
like Hephzibah’s story –
Desolate form lost in this world;
evoking a light only God can unfurl.
Wielding His beacon, as darkness I roam;
this labor of life paves the way to my home.

In response to Dungeon Prompts: Hard Work, What Does It Mean To You?

To me… physical labor, service to others, motherhood, spiritual growth, career development, and living with integrity… are all necessary, valuable, “doable” elements of life. And by “doable” I mean… very manageable for me, without too much difficulty, given my natural inclinations toward each area. The “hard work” comes in when one must balance everything meaningful to one’s life without cracking under the pressure and breaking into pieces of uselessness that no one else can be held accountable for because… well… all the pressure came from myself; my own desire to excel at everything and let no one down. We measure ourselves constantly… in our minds, in our circles, in our societies. We size up our intellect, cleverness, humor, brawn, adeptness, victories, failures, likability, uniqueness, sameness, and so on. Even the lazy have a slothful scale of comparison. No matter how much or how little you do; how much or how little you have; and how much or how little you care, I believe life is contextually challenging. Life itself is the hard work; the adding and subtracting of the relevance and impact of experiences and circumstances through the tunnel vision of human eyes. And for those of us who relish in spiritual elevation; life is all the more intense, but in a peacefully centered way. I have been fortunate enough to walk down many trails in this lifetime. The culmination of societal extremes rests squarely in my mind’s eye and my heart’s understanding; and I would be a lesser person if I didn’t embrace this blessing. So, while I do complain often about the injustice within my bubble… it is only dust babbling. My soul can’t count high enough to tally all the good I have known. I am ever grateful for this labor of life.

The Struggle

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0

How troubles find me in these fields
wrapped in petals, among smothering weeds
Deeply inhaling fresh damp earth, as I
dig deeper to sow these seeds

Like freckles lost in newborn skin,
each blemish quaintly smoothed
This face reflecting every end –
A profile still unmoved

Knowing all a heart can know,
yet seeking so much more
Praying for death as I chase new life
Self-abandoned for the One I adore

Holding steady to a centered peace
while I heel-toe on the ledge
Begging for a safe reprieve, as I’m
drawn closer to the edge

So much lies within these walls
where windows threaten to shatter
Taking cover amid hallowed halls
to escape the earthly chatter

Sirens call out with their charms,
flickering moth to flame
Darkness woos with candied tongue
Now, thoughts are dipped in shame

Herein lies the shifting lever
to this tug-of-war inside
Can compromise buy out my fervor
and gently cloak these eyes?

There is no price that can be paid
to resurrect the Light
But treasures bartered in the lay
intensify the fight

Steadfast is the soul’s one cry
while dust drifts towards the sea
The sun and moon in this spirit lie;
my struggle with humanity

Conundrum

by

4

Caught in these throes of freedom
Playing to win what I was born to lose
Shallow causes mark the depth of the fall
Holding less than a pause for the passions I choose

Led by a tip-toe spying the fault
Growing crass in the stride of these deeds
Sinking into steps not meant to be made
Until I finally own the stampede

Mud on the soles sticks deep to this soul
Though it bathes in the flow of the Light
Floating in clouds that swallow me whole
Setting darkness aglow in the night

Perilous stardom flickers about
Illuminating for all corners to see
Out creeps tempters behind angels’ cloaks
Now I’m dancing with the enemy’s breed

Chiseled from the center of spiritual war
Each hand adept at yielding its sword
Consorting with slaves of the devil’s hoard
Posting shields with the armies of the Lord

Affixed in a mix holding firm to the spoils
Heart gripped by Blood’s mercy and grace
While fire in the veins of my jubilant flesh
Ensure the drawing of temptation to this place

Every element of life represents the great divide
Averting eyes from the nature of the sum
Luring spirit out to play whilst the soul toils away
Existence vexed within its own conundrum

Anniversary

by

5

Ten years and counting

since I learned to bleed

Wounds no longer festering

inside this shell of broken dreams

Time redeems the hollowed spaces

while the hand of God replaces

the varicose traces of those imprints on my soul

Embraced in the Whole that gives me freedom

Losing bondage for the Kingdom

Eternity’s gift the day it saw the shackles fall

I will never look the same

a different cause, a different name

The knowing abandoned at the end of my glance

No reflection of your brand upon my heart

just one stroke in the beauty of this art

Now I dance in the comforts of chance

in a world divinely made for me

Thank you for the time you couldn’t spare

for stealing moments of my air

for breaking down all the good I tried to see

So grateful for vacant dinner tables

silence when all was unstable

unheard cries through darkest nights

heartless acts with scornful might

That smothering absence of any heed

whenever my spirit couldn’t breathe

was exactly what I needed to survive

Never was a fall so low until your kind

I came to know and still the rise so

ever high once failure resurrected hope

The scope is immeasurable

this growing into self in spite of self

by way of self’s ability to overcome the impossible

You crushed the innocence of my love while

laying the stepping stones for my ascension

And at least in this dimension I am compelled

to thank you for all the wrongs that fueled

the heaving throng of miseries which freed me

Ten years and counting the ever mounting

sea of blessings which hold my being

in a depth of seeing that guides my path

since the day I walked away from you

Amen

by

6

Amen.
I start with the end
because it is the only known
in a reality blown to pieces
by shades of gray explosives
planted by the pretty faces,
strong arms and warm embraces
of false prophets with the dirtiest of hearts
in the purest of places.
If I’ve found a resting place,
then I’ve lost it – my grip on what this is.
Chalky blue skies whisper life’s secrets
as told by the stranded children
of a forsaken Lord,
leading generations of non-believers
down paths of misfit tragedy.
Yes – if I’ve found a resting place,
I have been misled.
For I am not my Father’s miss-gotten child,
and in this foreign land
amidst the back-stabbing nature of man;
I must not tarry.
Diligent is my soul,
harnessed with irreparable spirit that
stares blaringly into the eyes of the wicked,
not with a beseeching plea for reciprocity,
but with an inescapable love
and spine-bending tenderness.
Still, no less …
my compassion and understanding are
deftly limited by my
humanness –
my inability to Know God
in my inherited affliction known as
original sin.
Here’s the bind I’m in:
charged at birth with past, present and future
crimes
of the flesh, heart and clouded mind;
I face a darkness the sun’s brightest rays
cannot lighten.
Even enlightened,
I fall short of His righteousness.
But knee-deep in His grace,
I navigate the abysmal conditions of
a race gone mad
– called humanity.
And in spite of its insanity,
I break loose its chains,
letting the blood of Yahweh’s brow
run eternally in my veins,
so through the Lamb’s pure stains
I can see the spark of hope that reigns from
Heaven,
which is my home.
Thank God His path is known.
For I must end up where I started
as the Holy Spirit’s beloved departed,
bringing death unto the dead
and walking new into my stead
with my Dear Heavenly Father.

Thanksgiving

by

0

Not a day,
but a way of life
centered on You

No feast greater than
the filling up our Creator has
placed at my table

But for You,
I was never able to overcome,
persevere, survive… See

Mind never
quite where it needs to be
because I’m human

Thus, eyes You’ve sewn
in this heart – Your part;
Master’s giving tree

Eternally praying it forward,
loving how You love me,
and I can’t help but share it

Spared it at times,
as recovery takes time
from the hands of man

Pain is fleeting;
not this beating of Truth, though
Your embrace never dies

Never too wise,
compromise binds the fragile spirit
veiled with flesh and ignorance

Still, where this soul fails,
Your faithfulness prevails
and – if nothing more –

All of my being
knows
to whom it shall give thanks

 

Aboideau

by

0

It swings both ways…
the door between
my contagious charms
and the burn behind your gaze
Your phase is just a meltdown,
a falling into what can never sustain
These bones refuse to sink into
shifting sands that sift through
shallow, weakened walls…
Arms unloaded and locked, not meant
to understand the tides that
stir this spirit’s pause
I pray you feel this cause
Rejecting moods of reckless man,
praise rides wild on doting breaths
my soul cannot contain;
a force that gnaws at soulless limbs
which wish such love was tamed
Unashamed and hanging in defeat,
loosed tongues wield whetted blades;
prepping now a victor’s march as if
such things can cut these flames
This source knows no retreat,
a Will of power beyond my own,
seized in the Light that never dims,
a joy with an unceasing roar, but you’re
standing at my door, wearing
eternity in your glare,
darkness furies in your stare
And I, fully aware of the
Heart who holds my own,
wonder which you fear more…
the power of Glory within
or the sight of the open door

by

4

Time waits

while I run

This ferocity of action

charged by expectations

only a madman can measure

This treasure – gifted curse

of accommodation

Pockets too deep to

not pay the costs

Cashing out this well of

blood, sweat and tears that

I remit with a smile

The meanwhile, as meager as it is,

gives way to tender moments and

fits of fury, competing

to be my resting place;

mere seconds of redemption in an

ongoing whirlwind of others’

and self-imposed demands

Wants get met under the

delusion of necessity, the

compromise of humanity, the

sacrifice of sanity

But I’m still thinking…

Annoyed and intrigued,

wagers pour their pockets into

the kitty riding on my survival

I hear their whispers

I know their bets

I feel their air,

but won’t breathe it in

Those clouds are too high

and too low for my sustenance

Not for sport –

Existence is an art; drawn and

choreographed by circumstance;

painted and performed by me

I always have a choice