Child of the King

She marched out the door with a smile on her face,
A polka dot dress, socks edged in lace.
"We're out, Mom!" she says, not even a trace
Of sadness to temper the lack of embrace.

"Come back here and hug me!" I say
A huff and a sigh at doing things my way.
"Okay. Have a great day!"
"I love you, Mom!"
And they drive away.

I close the door and survey the mess.
Everywhere, trappings of our beautiful princess:
A pile of beads that sparkles in the sunlight
Her favorite tiara because it fits her just right.

High heels and crinoline,
Crushed velvet and satin
A princess wand tinkles under the chair I just sat in.

Up to her room to make up her bed,
A blinking light escapes her shoe on the stair tread.
Clean out the castle, make everything shine
Only the best will do for this princess of mine.

Waiting in the carpool line now
Wondering how this day has turned out
Oh! There she is! She flits to the car and tells me all about
Her "little-big" nap at rest time today
Because she was "so tired" from getting to play.

"Now. Tell me the story of Adam and Eve.
Why were they naked? Why did they believe him,
that serpent that told them the fruit was good for them?
I know what Serpent means!"
"You do? What's that?"
"It means SATAN and we don't want to trust him!"
"So true, " I say, "In Whom do we trust?"
"In God. And in Jesus. We must learn to obey Him...
But when I'm bigger I'm not gonna obey you anymore,
I'm just gonna do what I want."

"Huh." Is all I can think to respond... is she baiting me?
"Maybe you'll want to obey when you are bigger."
"I don't think so."
Well, at least she's honest right?

I love her spirit, all brown sugar and vinegar
Thinking and testing to see what it gets her
And still in her heart the compulsion to love
The Jesus she so often thinks and hears of.

Beautiful inside, gorgeous without...

She,a beloved daughter of the King
IS a Princess, no doubt.

Triglycerides

Well! You little tattle-tale.
Humph. Sneaking up on me like that.
Afterall, it's been two years of pregnancy,
Two years of nursing...
You could have warned a body you were coming!

Now you're always niggling at the back of my mind
Not to eat this, not to eat that
No fun, you-
Always telling me what to do!

Well, you'll see, I have a plan
You won't be 'round long, my friend
I've got a plan and I'm sticking to it!

You may not think that I can do it
But since I HATE being bossed around
You'll see that I can stand my ground.

Won't be long now,
Adios, suckas!

Untitled... for lack of letters forming

This that I can hear, it swells
It overwhelms, it surrounds, penetrates, shakes
It moves, caresses, turns, kisses, holds
It brushes, whispers, yells, fights, forgets
It often burns and stirs and then it quits
but not the soul- no, the soul remembers
it remains there, in the smoldering embers
Of melodies that were but are no more
Yet somehow still remain, the sweet refrain
That lifts the edge of gloom or pulls it closer
While he who writes those words is none the wiser
To his words which trespass on sacred ground
And where can I hide from this haunting?
Who will put this ghost to rest?
It's pursuit is relentless, under the skin, in the vein
Now in bone and then in marrow
Shortly will I find myself at the end of myself
With this that wraps its cords around my mind
And sings a soft and sickly lullaby
Of what could be if things were not so
If I were not so...
Or perhaps if they were more?
No, indeed it always ends in self or selflessness
Or the end of this
... or that, where am I?
Have they found me?
Will they tell me when they do?
Is there a word for this thing that sneaks
And steals and changes?
Is there a word for this longing other than selfishness
and vain conceit?
Are there any choices yet left to make?
Surely there was so much that we never saw
Surely there was something left undone
That brought us here, to now, to this
How can one un-be what one has become?
The unlearning seems so impossible
I feel gripped in the maddening crush of
A wealth of information laid bare
And where to hide from my mind? There is nowhere!
There is nothingness and desolation
There is life and population
There are wars and droughts and famine
Lands of plenty, peace and swimming pools
And so I know my knowing still lacks and understanding
Of any thing that exists outside this thing.
This thing that touches, changes, moves, stirs, removes..
Causes a longing for something.
No, the longing was already there and there too long
for some get so suspicious of that look on my face
or in my eye, that light that somehow changes
Those words that wont' come out the right way,
Letters which refuse to form the sequence that would best explain
This
And so I'm left with
This

Arrhythmia

And so and so and so and so it goes...

Ink and ink and ink and paper: words
This and that and junk and stuff: pain
Hurt and fear and lifestyle choices: shame

Space and time and loneliness: anxiety
Awkward, inept, unfit for polite society.

Exile and anger, depression: self-loathing

Guilt and misery and misunderstanding: distance
Out of the shell only when necessary for existence

Truth on pain with pressure: shutting down
Cutting just to see if blood is found.

Tears and tears and tears and tears: help
Help to feel and be and see: heal
Whispers in the soul: kneel

Quiet in the disquieted mind: silence
Stillness in the heart: hope
Peace in the spirit: deliverance

Crimson blood to wash away the stains: clean
Resurrection power to break apart the chains: victory.

On Personal Truths, In Reflection

I care more about having a peaceful home than a clean one.

I have bitten off more than I can chew.

Two year olds know everything.

There are those I do not like.

There are those I could not love more.

I am not the center of the universe.

She is not the center of the universe.

You are not the center of the universe.

It's easy to fail at most things.

Where parents fail, God's grace prevails.

Saddness is more natural than happiness.

Easy is rarely right.

Hard is not always the only way.

Always and never are overused.

Mothers are overused.

Half of my brain is missing, the half that thinks and reasons clearly, as well as spells correctly and knows syntax.

I will not be the next American Idol.

Singing is one of my greatest passions and gifts.

Discernment is my "spiritual gift".

We have McPheever.

Amy has beautiful eyes.

Joel has a beautiful heart.

Our life is a work of art.

Clarity, energy and a pleasant disposition are sold in 150mg controlled release pills. I take them regularly.

Running is hard.

Running is awesome.

Running is accomplishing a goal.

Writing is therapeutic.

Reading is relaxing.

My Dad has diabetes.

My Father is with me always, even unto the ends of the earth.

My Dad is a man of integrity. He loves me dearly as I love him.

My mother is clothed in strength and dignity, the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.

Tenth grade girls are fun to be with and hard to relate to.

Old Navy commercials drive me crazy.

Mac/PC commercials are best.

The Office is the best BEST.

I tell you: This is all my joy and my peace, nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Go Ahead

In shadow does it wander into the room
And tip it's hat to greet me with its gloom
Uninvited, yet invited still
Bringing with it dark and musty chill

So long, long gone you were
I know it to be true
Yet here you are to tell me that
I am not through with you
Of course you would come back to speak your peace to me
Now that I am standing on the edge of victory

Unreasoning, illogical and hateful voice of the past
Comes again to tell me this state of being will not last
And I, with doubled fists, set jaw, raised chin
Will not sit and let the chants begin
Shadowboxer surely I will be
Before you are able to get a grip on me

Not such an easy target this time, am I
I know your next move, I know you so well
You who love to chain my blood bought soul in temporal hell
No matter what you say, I will not listen
I fought so hard to break free from this prison
I won't go back
Stomp your feet, go ahead and yell
You can't have me because my mind is well

My arsenal is full, I am ready to attack
Not to sit and wait for you to tell me what I lack
Go ahead, if you must and whisper in my ear
You will not find unstable insanity here

More resilient now than ever, I've become
It's more than me at stake now
Besides, I've already won
Test and see the mettle that is forged
Around my mind which you for so long gored
Not so slick that you can not be beaten
Mercy is your very great enemy,
and He has visited me

No, don't wave your white flag this direction
Go ahead, invade, I will kill this infection

Paper Faces

Okay, in the past week I've seen two movies with masked avengers. V for Vendetta and The Phantom of the Opera and I've come to the conclusion that I love the man behind the mask. At the end of both of these movies, I find myself in a deep and abiding depression and obsession of thoughts over said hero. What is it about the wearer of the mask that breaks my heart? I haven't been able to think about much else, only to pray for the souls of these movie characters as they portray the brokenness and heartache of a lost and dying world. I think that I love them so much because they are some of the few who recognize they are lost and dying and therefore take up a banner. Only it's the wrong banner and therefore at the End of Days they will still only have lost time and brokenness to show the Father.
The Dark Angels in both movies wore masks to hide thier grotesque disfigurations. Now, because it is hollywood and we are waiting on the big reveal we don't really believe they're that grotesque underneath, certainly not grotesque enough to push our beautiful heroine past the point of love. And really, the Phantom's disfigurement was in "his soul" as so eloquently sung by Christine Daae. But V never reveals his face for the masses to see. He sadly admits, in the midst of the promise of love through the worst of times that he cannot reveal what lies beneath. 'Why' I want to know? You're loved!! Totally and completely, we've watched you murder, lie, torture and yet we love you, we're rooting for you, we're on you're side!! But he cannot and so he does not.
And I realize, a week later, as I still can't stop thinking of their beautiful, tortured souls that this is the cry of God's heart. To love us through the worst of our disfigurations, the worst of our actions, to call us out of a life of darkness and futility, of totally wasted effort, and into a life of light and song and meaning, a life of purpose. An eternal life. I am so saddened by the fact that a lost person can give all, even his own life, for what he believes is a just cause when the object of his faith is no more alive than the wooden gods of the high places. We, humans, created beings, want to follow someone who has purpose and gives meaning to life, who takes calculated steps on a certain road of action, who is able to see past today and affect change for the future. Jesus, why don't we want to follow you? Give them eyes to see and ears to hear. Soften hearts to recieve the Word implanted and give us boldness to implant the Word.
I did not know that they were hungry for a Purpose, I did not see that their hearts desired Life.