Transparent Me...
These pieces of mine are special to me because they are me...raw, transparent, ME. If you're interested in knowing more about who I am inside these pieces are an open entry through the doors...
That's Me
My hands are my voice but I'm not deaf.
I'm shy and withdrawn unless I know you well.
Words do not flow easily through my mouth.
I don't do well in a crowd.
My hair is my conviction and glory.
My hips have carried my heart 5 times and harbored 6.
I'm stubborn and pushy.
But I'm compassionate and understanding.
Sometimes I'm spiteful but I don't tell lies.
I'm not a Christian, but a sinner who strives to be like Christ.
I make a lot of mistakes but I learn from them as well.
I'm weak and unworthy; I'm strong and fearless.
I'm an open book if you know which page to find me.
I'm a mystery novel if you don't have time to look.
I'm bold and I'm scared.
I'm spontaneous but logical.
I'm affectionate and excited inside.
But I'm cursed with being reserved.
I'd like to show what's inside.
But I forgot how. I'm not sure if I ever even knew.
I believe a tamed but ambitious heart is simply wisdom.
I believe an untamed heart still has a lot to learn.
I cannot understand where anyone finds pride in that.
My pride is in my wisdom and grace.
I believe to respect your spouse is not demeaning.
I believe it's a reflection of your own self worth instead.
I believe in myself although I don't always meet my expectations.
I also believe in mind over matter when there is a will.
I view the world through the eye of my camera lense.
God is the one with the talent. I just try to capture it.
Although I could never begin to do his work justice.
My eyes see the world inside its frame even when my camera is out of reach.
I don't need glory or fame before I die.
I only need to know that I somehow managed to stumble...
to stumble on God's will, wherever that may be, before I die.
Crawling, walking, climbing, running... I don't really care how I get there.
I'm a constant work in progress.
I think it's funny that people call Christians a hypocrite when they see them doing wrong.
But they call them out for being "holier than thou" when they see them doing right.
I choose not to be identified by my religion, but by my God instead.
I'm self-conscious about myself, inside and out.
I trust easy because everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt.
I don't cry in sad movies.
But I cry when I watch the news.
It took me months just to write this.
Because I am still learning who me is.
I will never stop learning that because I will always grow.
Yep. That's me.
I'm shy and withdrawn unless I know you well.
Words do not flow easily through my mouth.
I don't do well in a crowd.
My hair is my conviction and glory.
My hips have carried my heart 5 times and harbored 6.
I'm stubborn and pushy.
But I'm compassionate and understanding.
Sometimes I'm spiteful but I don't tell lies.
I'm not a Christian, but a sinner who strives to be like Christ.
I make a lot of mistakes but I learn from them as well.
I'm weak and unworthy; I'm strong and fearless.
I'm an open book if you know which page to find me.
I'm a mystery novel if you don't have time to look.
I'm bold and I'm scared.
I'm spontaneous but logical.
I'm affectionate and excited inside.
But I'm cursed with being reserved.
I'd like to show what's inside.
But I forgot how. I'm not sure if I ever even knew.
I believe a tamed but ambitious heart is simply wisdom.
I believe an untamed heart still has a lot to learn.
I cannot understand where anyone finds pride in that.
My pride is in my wisdom and grace.
I believe to respect your spouse is not demeaning.
I believe it's a reflection of your own self worth instead.
I believe in myself although I don't always meet my expectations.
I also believe in mind over matter when there is a will.
I view the world through the eye of my camera lense.
God is the one with the talent. I just try to capture it.
Although I could never begin to do his work justice.
My eyes see the world inside its frame even when my camera is out of reach.
I don't need glory or fame before I die.
I only need to know that I somehow managed to stumble...
to stumble on God's will, wherever that may be, before I die.
Crawling, walking, climbing, running... I don't really care how I get there.
I'm a constant work in progress.
I think it's funny that people call Christians a hypocrite when they see them doing wrong.
But they call them out for being "holier than thou" when they see them doing right.
I choose not to be identified by my religion, but by my God instead.
I'm self-conscious about myself, inside and out.
I trust easy because everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt.
I don't cry in sad movies.
But I cry when I watch the news.
It took me months just to write this.
Because I am still learning who me is.
I will never stop learning that because I will always grow.
Yep. That's me.
She Stood
Some have hurt my heart and made me cry.
Words, and even silence can devastate a soul sometimes.
Still, I stand.
Endless nights in prayer, endless weeping, humbling myself before God and those who do me wrong, and often, not even understanding why...
Still, I stand.
Hurricanes blow my way. The devil and his demons taunt my soul and try to whisper in my ears...
Still, I stand.
Those spirits try to attack my marriage, my children, all those I dearly love... in desperate attempts to knock me down.
Still, I stand.
Sometimes I get weary and discouraged as I walk this path to righteousness. Sometimes I feel like I can't make it anymore and that I was never meant to win this race. Take back your thoughts devil.
Because still, I will stand.
Sometimes I feel unworthy and insignficant. Take back your thoughts devil.
Because still, I will stand.
And there are times I feel like I can't ever do anything right, that I'm so clumsy on this spiritual road. Take back your thoughts devil.
Because... I will stand.
Oh, you think you'll overcome my spirit with doubt? You can have back your doubt... I'll stand.
And do you really think sending guilt and condemnation from my past this way, will break me? Keep your nonsense! I've been forgiven! Regrets are for idle saints.
I'll stand!
When you're stumbling on your own walk and thinking of taking that other road my brothers and sisters...think of me, and know, I stand. Think of me and know, you too, can stand. Find your salvation again in knowing that His soldiers can stand, because they're covered in His blood!
And when my Maker has called me home, honor my written wishes, and don't hold a funeral for me. Have a singing, shouting, and dancing worship service in His honor, because you've been given your freedom!
Celebrate my homecoming the way you'd celebrate any soldiers! Wear colors of freedom, and forget any garments in black...
And when someone stands behind a pulpit to give a word in my memory...
...just simply say, "She stood."
Words, and even silence can devastate a soul sometimes.
Still, I stand.
Endless nights in prayer, endless weeping, humbling myself before God and those who do me wrong, and often, not even understanding why...
Still, I stand.
Hurricanes blow my way. The devil and his demons taunt my soul and try to whisper in my ears...
Still, I stand.
Those spirits try to attack my marriage, my children, all those I dearly love... in desperate attempts to knock me down.
Still, I stand.
Sometimes I get weary and discouraged as I walk this path to righteousness. Sometimes I feel like I can't make it anymore and that I was never meant to win this race. Take back your thoughts devil.
Because still, I will stand.
Sometimes I feel unworthy and insignficant. Take back your thoughts devil.
Because still, I will stand.
And there are times I feel like I can't ever do anything right, that I'm so clumsy on this spiritual road. Take back your thoughts devil.
Because... I will stand.
Oh, you think you'll overcome my spirit with doubt? You can have back your doubt... I'll stand.
And do you really think sending guilt and condemnation from my past this way, will break me? Keep your nonsense! I've been forgiven! Regrets are for idle saints.
I'll stand!
When you're stumbling on your own walk and thinking of taking that other road my brothers and sisters...think of me, and know, I stand. Think of me and know, you too, can stand. Find your salvation again in knowing that His soldiers can stand, because they're covered in His blood!
And when my Maker has called me home, honor my written wishes, and don't hold a funeral for me. Have a singing, shouting, and dancing worship service in His honor, because you've been given your freedom!
Celebrate my homecoming the way you'd celebrate any soldiers! Wear colors of freedom, and forget any garments in black...
And when someone stands behind a pulpit to give a word in my memory...
...just simply say, "She stood."
Unconditional Forgiveness
Tightly swaddled in your wrath you wonder how you'll move on from here.
Submerged in your afflictions brought on by flesh and evil malignant spirits...
you ponder... who loves your soul more?
You doubt that you will ever turn back and somehow ought press on.
But the laceration in your heart says, "no, no more."
Mortals who've inflicted the wounds turn your window panes cold.
The frost drips morsels down into your gut who escorts them fiercely to your soul.
Your carnal and savage will loathes the sight of them.
But your metaphysical God pricks your cheeky conscience back into submission.
You desire to spew your agony back upon those who placed it there, tenfold.
And then you recall the plank in your own eye...
... and how many tears you... you...you, must've brought your God.
...and how many times he embraced you even when your heart was ugly.
...and how many times he loved you when your mouth was depraved.
...and how many times he reached for you even when you had no loyalty for him.
...and how his unconditional love for you drew your heart into remorse, and that personal responsibility and anguish extracted the compassion back out from the depths of your soul.
...and your heart was once again free to adulate your God in complete ecstasy.
And so you were reminded that if you are made in his image you shall also love as he loves.
And you learned that this is how you shall move on.
Submerged in your afflictions brought on by flesh and evil malignant spirits...
you ponder... who loves your soul more?
You doubt that you will ever turn back and somehow ought press on.
But the laceration in your heart says, "no, no more."
Mortals who've inflicted the wounds turn your window panes cold.
The frost drips morsels down into your gut who escorts them fiercely to your soul.
Your carnal and savage will loathes the sight of them.
But your metaphysical God pricks your cheeky conscience back into submission.
You desire to spew your agony back upon those who placed it there, tenfold.
And then you recall the plank in your own eye...
... and how many tears you... you...you, must've brought your God.
...and how many times he embraced you even when your heart was ugly.
...and how many times he loved you when your mouth was depraved.
...and how many times he reached for you even when you had no loyalty for him.
...and how his unconditional love for you drew your heart into remorse, and that personal responsibility and anguish extracted the compassion back out from the depths of your soul.
...and your heart was once again free to adulate your God in complete ecstasy.
And so you were reminded that if you are made in his image you shall also love as he loves.
And you learned that this is how you shall move on.
ABUSED
Ashamed.Violated.Belittled.Degraded.Worthless.
Hurt. Angry. Afraid. Weak. Depressed. Cold. Timid. Anxiety. Outcast. Embarrassed. Abandoned. Afraid...afraid... afraid...
Dear God,
These are just some of the ways they made me feel. Dear God, here is my shame. I give it to you.
Here are my feelings of violation. I give it to you.
Here are my feelings of belittlement & being degraded. I give it to you.
Here are my feelings of worthlessness. I give them to you.
Here is my hurt. I give it to you.
Here is my anger. I give it to you.
Here is my fear. I give it to you.
Here is my depression. I give it to you.
Here are the walls that have made me cold. I give them to you.
Here are my timid and anxiety filled nerves. I give them to you.
Here are my feelings of being cast out. I give them to you.
Here are my feelings of embarrassment that my feelings of shame have brought on. I give them to you.
Here are my feelings of abandonment. I give them to you.
Here is my fear... my fear...my fear. I give it to you.
Dear God,
Please forgive them for what they've done to me. Dear God, never hold them accountable for their sins against me. Please wipe it off their record permenantly. I forgive them. I ask you to forgive them to with no conditions... wipe it all away.
Dear God,
I forgive myself for allowing myself to carry the shame that I didn't cause. I forgive myself for allowing myself to feel guilty for sins I didn't commit against me. I forgive myself if I ever hurt anyone because of the person I became. I forgive me. I forgive me. I forgive me in spite of me.
Dear God,
If I ever held resentment for you for allowing bad things to happen to me, then I forgive you. Dear God you have always kept me. I understand that mankind does evil to the innocent because evil co-exists in this world with your goodness. I understand that you give man free will to choose right and wrong, and because of that, some have done evil to me. You allowed them to. I forgive you. I forgive you. I forgive you.
Hurt. Angry. Afraid. Weak. Depressed. Cold. Timid. Anxiety. Outcast. Embarrassed. Abandoned. Afraid...afraid... afraid...
Dear God,
These are just some of the ways they made me feel. Dear God, here is my shame. I give it to you.
Here are my feelings of violation. I give it to you.
Here are my feelings of belittlement & being degraded. I give it to you.
Here are my feelings of worthlessness. I give them to you.
Here is my hurt. I give it to you.
Here is my anger. I give it to you.
Here is my fear. I give it to you.
Here is my depression. I give it to you.
Here are the walls that have made me cold. I give them to you.
Here are my timid and anxiety filled nerves. I give them to you.
Here are my feelings of being cast out. I give them to you.
Here are my feelings of embarrassment that my feelings of shame have brought on. I give them to you.
Here are my feelings of abandonment. I give them to you.
Here is my fear... my fear...my fear. I give it to you.
Dear God,
Please forgive them for what they've done to me. Dear God, never hold them accountable for their sins against me. Please wipe it off their record permenantly. I forgive them. I ask you to forgive them to with no conditions... wipe it all away.
Dear God,
I forgive myself for allowing myself to carry the shame that I didn't cause. I forgive myself for allowing myself to feel guilty for sins I didn't commit against me. I forgive myself if I ever hurt anyone because of the person I became. I forgive me. I forgive me. I forgive me in spite of me.
Dear God,
If I ever held resentment for you for allowing bad things to happen to me, then I forgive you. Dear God you have always kept me. I understand that mankind does evil to the innocent because evil co-exists in this world with your goodness. I understand that you give man free will to choose right and wrong, and because of that, some have done evil to me. You allowed them to. I forgive you. I forgive you. I forgive you.
Apostolic Woman
Is it my curly hair that flutters below my waist
Is it my skirt that drags the pavement
Or my smooth uncovered face...
The curl in my hips that sway with each step
The way I cross my ankles when I sit
No cleavage you'll see
No fine jewels dangling from my ears
My voice is meek but my message is loud
My heart is tamed but my ambition is endless
Humble... I am humble
Does my tongue frighten you
Fear not, it is only the Lord moving through my soul
I am under the influence of the Holy Ghost... the Holy Ghost
Don't tell me this isn't real
"I once was lost... but now I'm found"
I once was lost... and in sin I was bound
But now I'm free
Don't tell me this isn't real
Don't tell me I have too many rules
Don't you dare take my sacrifice from me
Don't you take my worship from the Lord
My body belongs to Him, every curve, every step I take...
What is it about me you find so intriquing
What is it about me so different from you
Do you see that...
It's a reflection of my soul you see, when you look at me
So let me show you the God who resides in my heart...when you look at me
He shines through my eyes
He shines through the curl in my hips
He shines through my uncovered face
He shines through the glory I call my hair
He shines through my skirt that drags the pavement...
...And through my words, my smile, my love for you...
He shines through me.
I follow no man's rules.
I carry this cross because I follow Him.
Apostolic Woman, I am.
Is it my skirt that drags the pavement
Or my smooth uncovered face...
The curl in my hips that sway with each step
The way I cross my ankles when I sit
No cleavage you'll see
No fine jewels dangling from my ears
My voice is meek but my message is loud
My heart is tamed but my ambition is endless
Humble... I am humble
Does my tongue frighten you
Fear not, it is only the Lord moving through my soul
I am under the influence of the Holy Ghost... the Holy Ghost
Don't tell me this isn't real
"I once was lost... but now I'm found"
I once was lost... and in sin I was bound
But now I'm free
Don't tell me this isn't real
Don't tell me I have too many rules
Don't you dare take my sacrifice from me
Don't you take my worship from the Lord
My body belongs to Him, every curve, every step I take...
What is it about me you find so intriquing
What is it about me so different from you
Do you see that...
It's a reflection of my soul you see, when you look at me
So let me show you the God who resides in my heart...when you look at me
He shines through my eyes
He shines through the curl in my hips
He shines through my uncovered face
He shines through the glory I call my hair
He shines through my skirt that drags the pavement...
...And through my words, my smile, my love for you...
He shines through me.
I follow no man's rules.
I carry this cross because I follow Him.
Apostolic Woman, I am.
Peanut Butter Jelly Hands
Oh Peanut Butter Jelly Hands... I see you've come calling today.
There you are on the bottom of my skirt and right on my backside too.
I saw you across the arm of my favorite chair.
I see where you've explored my cabinets and painted my clean pots and pans.
Oh, and there you are again across the bottom of the 'fridge.
And don't you look lovely on my tapestries over there?
And wait, the cat's mouth is moving real funny... as if she has some peanut butter stuck in it.
Yep... you must've managed to greet her tail, you silly little peanut butter jelly hands.
There is some lovely artwork on the kitchen floor too.
I should start charging people for the show!
Why, who wouldn't pay a trillon, or two, to see such a beautiful work of art?
Your fat little fingers are cute as can be.
Your scent is sweet as a baby's first bath with just a dash of peanut butter jelly perfume.
I could bottle it up and give it away to the mommy's who miss these days.
How lucky am I to be here now?
You sweet little peanut butter jelly hands...
There you are on the bottom of my skirt and right on my backside too.
I saw you across the arm of my favorite chair.
I see where you've explored my cabinets and painted my clean pots and pans.
Oh, and there you are again across the bottom of the 'fridge.
And don't you look lovely on my tapestries over there?
And wait, the cat's mouth is moving real funny... as if she has some peanut butter stuck in it.
Yep... you must've managed to greet her tail, you silly little peanut butter jelly hands.
There is some lovely artwork on the kitchen floor too.
I should start charging people for the show!
Why, who wouldn't pay a trillon, or two, to see such a beautiful work of art?
Your fat little fingers are cute as can be.
Your scent is sweet as a baby's first bath with just a dash of peanut butter jelly perfume.
I could bottle it up and give it away to the mommy's who miss these days.
How lucky am I to be here now?
You sweet little peanut butter jelly hands...
Tea Dates
Forgive me if I stare, your blue eyes captivate me.
You giggle at the silence as you sip your tea...
We have 20 minutes til' you get ready for school.
You have a few new freckles on your nose.
How many are there now? God truly knows...
"Look at my loose tooth Mom."
I smile... the intellect of the conversation over hot tea brings me joy.
No talk of bills or money, diets, husbands or problems...
Two different worlds, yet one.
Six years have flown by since you were born.
I feel a dull ache inside as seven is only two weeks away.
I move your dirty blonde hair out of your eyes and stare once more...
in hopes to never forget this moment or that tiny soft face.
I pray your innocence never leaves you and that no one ever steals it away.
I pray that even when that smile leaves your face, it's merely a temporary glimpse...
and that inside, you always remain whole and full of spirit.
I pray Daddy gives you plenty of hugs as you grow
and that we have endless intellectual talks over hot tea.
I pray that God is always your first love...
and that you always stand behind the convictions He instills in you.
You grin at me. I grin at you.
We sip our tea some more.
These are the best kind of tea dates.
You giggle at the silence as you sip your tea...
We have 20 minutes til' you get ready for school.
You have a few new freckles on your nose.
How many are there now? God truly knows...
"Look at my loose tooth Mom."
I smile... the intellect of the conversation over hot tea brings me joy.
No talk of bills or money, diets, husbands or problems...
Two different worlds, yet one.
Six years have flown by since you were born.
I feel a dull ache inside as seven is only two weeks away.
I move your dirty blonde hair out of your eyes and stare once more...
in hopes to never forget this moment or that tiny soft face.
I pray your innocence never leaves you and that no one ever steals it away.
I pray that even when that smile leaves your face, it's merely a temporary glimpse...
and that inside, you always remain whole and full of spirit.
I pray Daddy gives you plenty of hugs as you grow
and that we have endless intellectual talks over hot tea.
I pray that God is always your first love...
and that you always stand behind the convictions He instills in you.
You grin at me. I grin at you.
We sip our tea some more.
These are the best kind of tea dates.
Old Ladies Don't Wear Socks
As I was sitting in the waiting room of my doctor's office yesterday, I observed. The room is always full of elderly folk everytime I go in. I don't know what it is about my Dr. that his patients consistent of elderly folk... and then, me of course. But they do. I suppose I fit in though, with all my chronic aches & pains.
As I observed (for a good 30 minutes or so) I actually enjoyed myself. There is nothing like making the time pass by watching old people wait in a waiting room. I know that sounds sarcastic, but let me explain...
I first noticed Florence. I don't know that Florence is her real name, but she looks like a Florence, so that's what we'll call her. When I came in, she had one of the receptionists sitting next to her in the waiting room. They were chattering, whispering in each other's ears, and giggling like a couple of school girls.
Everything about Florence was perfectly & maticulously placed. She wore a long skirt & matching shirt. She had on light make-up that gave her wrinkled cheeks just the right rosy-red effect. Her hair was up in a french twist, and the top of her head was covered in blonde curls to follow the twist. It was the most perfect twist and curls I'd ever seen. Not a hair on her head moved. I figured she must've been wearing hair pieces, because I don't even think 20 year olds have hair that perfectly beautiful (Florence will be 70 in March by the way, as I overheard her say.) But she wore the hair well.
She wore jewerly... a lot of jewelry. She wore big earnings, big necklaces, several bracelets, and really big rings on her fingers. You could hear the "clink-clink" as the metals brushed against each other each time she moved.
She had the attitude and the walk to match her attire. If I had to imagine what a southern belle in the South looks like, I'd say they look like her.
She was cute though, and friendly. She liked to chat with the receptionists and cut up with them. She would also start chatting with anyone who sat next to her.
I noticed she wasn't wearing socks. She wore stockings instead. And as I began to look around at all the other feet in the room, I noticed that I was the only woman wearing socks. There must've been about 10 elderly woman in the room with me. Not one of them had on a pair of socks. They all wore stockings, even the ones wearing pants. One woman was wearing a plain jean skirt like me, and even she wore stockings. At first I thought," don't these women's feet get cold? I must be the only sane one in the room."And then I realized, I'm the only one in socks. So I became self-conscious. I crossed my ankles and began to tuck my feet up under my chair.
I started looking around at the others in the room and observing them. There were about 3 who were couples. I thought the older couples were cute. I think I heard one ask his wife if she remembered his Geritol.
I saw one man walk in pushing his wife in a wheel chair, with her oxygen tank in tow. He could barely walk himself. She had short, red curly hair...obviously a wig. They sat next to Florence. I heard them making small talk. Florence asked them what their favorite places were to eat. He began going down the list, and then said that he just picks it up & takes it home now... since the wheelchair. His wife wasn't wearing socks either.
Florence mentioned her husband a lot. I think he had passed away. She spoke about him in this manner..."when my husband was.... my husband used to..." etc.
One thing I noticed about the couples was that they seemed to move as one unit. They each knew the other's persons next move or next word, and they were in sync. I noticed that one couple didn't even have to make complete sentences with each other. Husband would start to say something, and before I could even tell what he was saying, wife would nodd her head, smile, and say okay... and vice versa. It was like they had their own secret language, like listening to the oriental workers at the nail salon, and wondering if they're talking about you.
I started to imagine what these women looked like when they were my age. I imagined black & white photos neatly placed in their albums back home, and then I thought to myself, "I hope my computer never crashes, or no one will have an album to go through when I'm old."
I thought about the socks none of them were wearing. There must be a reason. I thought, "A different time and age." And then I wondered, what was that time and age? A time when socks were only for men... a time when just going to the dr's office meant looking your Sunday best and looking like a lady. It was a time when couples stayed together for so long, they literally became one unit. What was divorce anyway? A time where photo albums weren't a mouse & a click away, but a set of books on a shelf.
Yes, times have sure changed. I keep telling myself I'll back up all those photos on the computer and then I never seem to have time. These women must gasp to themselves when they see the young ladies today walking through Wal Mart in their pajamas. My stringy hair must look awful just hanging down. Now I know why Grandma always used to tell me, "get your hair out of your face." I get the impression that not pulling your hair back somehow wasn't lady-like at one time. None of these women let their hang like mine was. Each of them had fixed it neatly. And I get the impression that socks were something men used to wear, like a lot of other apparel we all wear today.
I know times change... but for the life of me, sometimes I just can't figure out why.
As I observed (for a good 30 minutes or so) I actually enjoyed myself. There is nothing like making the time pass by watching old people wait in a waiting room. I know that sounds sarcastic, but let me explain...
I first noticed Florence. I don't know that Florence is her real name, but she looks like a Florence, so that's what we'll call her. When I came in, she had one of the receptionists sitting next to her in the waiting room. They were chattering, whispering in each other's ears, and giggling like a couple of school girls.
Everything about Florence was perfectly & maticulously placed. She wore a long skirt & matching shirt. She had on light make-up that gave her wrinkled cheeks just the right rosy-red effect. Her hair was up in a french twist, and the top of her head was covered in blonde curls to follow the twist. It was the most perfect twist and curls I'd ever seen. Not a hair on her head moved. I figured she must've been wearing hair pieces, because I don't even think 20 year olds have hair that perfectly beautiful (Florence will be 70 in March by the way, as I overheard her say.) But she wore the hair well.
She wore jewerly... a lot of jewelry. She wore big earnings, big necklaces, several bracelets, and really big rings on her fingers. You could hear the "clink-clink" as the metals brushed against each other each time she moved.
She had the attitude and the walk to match her attire. If I had to imagine what a southern belle in the South looks like, I'd say they look like her.
She was cute though, and friendly. She liked to chat with the receptionists and cut up with them. She would also start chatting with anyone who sat next to her.
I noticed she wasn't wearing socks. She wore stockings instead. And as I began to look around at all the other feet in the room, I noticed that I was the only woman wearing socks. There must've been about 10 elderly woman in the room with me. Not one of them had on a pair of socks. They all wore stockings, even the ones wearing pants. One woman was wearing a plain jean skirt like me, and even she wore stockings. At first I thought," don't these women's feet get cold? I must be the only sane one in the room."And then I realized, I'm the only one in socks. So I became self-conscious. I crossed my ankles and began to tuck my feet up under my chair.
I started looking around at the others in the room and observing them. There were about 3 who were couples. I thought the older couples were cute. I think I heard one ask his wife if she remembered his Geritol.
I saw one man walk in pushing his wife in a wheel chair, with her oxygen tank in tow. He could barely walk himself. She had short, red curly hair...obviously a wig. They sat next to Florence. I heard them making small talk. Florence asked them what their favorite places were to eat. He began going down the list, and then said that he just picks it up & takes it home now... since the wheelchair. His wife wasn't wearing socks either.
Florence mentioned her husband a lot. I think he had passed away. She spoke about him in this manner..."when my husband was.... my husband used to..." etc.
One thing I noticed about the couples was that they seemed to move as one unit. They each knew the other's persons next move or next word, and they were in sync. I noticed that one couple didn't even have to make complete sentences with each other. Husband would start to say something, and before I could even tell what he was saying, wife would nodd her head, smile, and say okay... and vice versa. It was like they had their own secret language, like listening to the oriental workers at the nail salon, and wondering if they're talking about you.
I started to imagine what these women looked like when they were my age. I imagined black & white photos neatly placed in their albums back home, and then I thought to myself, "I hope my computer never crashes, or no one will have an album to go through when I'm old."
I thought about the socks none of them were wearing. There must be a reason. I thought, "A different time and age." And then I wondered, what was that time and age? A time when socks were only for men... a time when just going to the dr's office meant looking your Sunday best and looking like a lady. It was a time when couples stayed together for so long, they literally became one unit. What was divorce anyway? A time where photo albums weren't a mouse & a click away, but a set of books on a shelf.
Yes, times have sure changed. I keep telling myself I'll back up all those photos on the computer and then I never seem to have time. These women must gasp to themselves when they see the young ladies today walking through Wal Mart in their pajamas. My stringy hair must look awful just hanging down. Now I know why Grandma always used to tell me, "get your hair out of your face." I get the impression that not pulling your hair back somehow wasn't lady-like at one time. None of these women let their hang like mine was. Each of them had fixed it neatly. And I get the impression that socks were something men used to wear, like a lot of other apparel we all wear today.
I know times change... but for the life of me, sometimes I just can't figure out why.
I BELIEVE!
I believe that when I pray, God hears me!
I believe that when I pray, His spirit moves & an annointing falls on who ever my prayers are for.
I believe that when I pray, I have the authority of the Holy Spirit... And with that authority, comes great power! It has the power to move mountains. It has the power to bind demons and shake all of hell into submission!
I believe that my prayers never go unanswered. I believe that when I pray, my prayer is already answered before I even asked. There is no such thing as unanswered prayers! They just aren't always answered the way we thought they'd be. But I do believe, that GOD answers them according to HIS will and according to what is best for us & those we pray for. And sometimes, it's not God, but it's US & free will choosing not to accept His gifts.
I do believe, that ALL THINGS work towards the good for those who believe in HIM. I do believe then, that every prayer is heard and every prayer is answered towards the good in my life! I fully trust in and believe that no matter what, GOD is in control when I pray!
I believe in the POWER of prayer. I have seen it's power work in my life and those around me. I have learned that prayer is more than just a few words uttered from our mouths. We're talking to a KING, King over all things and earth... ! Can we even fathom that?! Can we fathom the power in our prayers?!
I believe and pray, that anyone who reads this will feel His spirit right now and SEE the power of prayer in their own lives as they believe and pray, in Jesus name. Let it be so!
I believe that when I pray, His spirit moves & an annointing falls on who ever my prayers are for.
I believe that when I pray, I have the authority of the Holy Spirit... And with that authority, comes great power! It has the power to move mountains. It has the power to bind demons and shake all of hell into submission!
I believe that my prayers never go unanswered. I believe that when I pray, my prayer is already answered before I even asked. There is no such thing as unanswered prayers! They just aren't always answered the way we thought they'd be. But I do believe, that GOD answers them according to HIS will and according to what is best for us & those we pray for. And sometimes, it's not God, but it's US & free will choosing not to accept His gifts.
I do believe, that ALL THINGS work towards the good for those who believe in HIM. I do believe then, that every prayer is heard and every prayer is answered towards the good in my life! I fully trust in and believe that no matter what, GOD is in control when I pray!
I believe in the POWER of prayer. I have seen it's power work in my life and those around me. I have learned that prayer is more than just a few words uttered from our mouths. We're talking to a KING, King over all things and earth... ! Can we even fathom that?! Can we fathom the power in our prayers?!
I believe and pray, that anyone who reads this will feel His spirit right now and SEE the power of prayer in their own lives as they believe and pray, in Jesus name. Let it be so!
The Rhythm Of The Jody
They are the shadows you see lingering in the dark.
They will cover your body, try to muzzle your mouth & suffocate you.
They will try to take over your mind and make you think you're losing it.
They have even talked many into ending their own lives simply through their presence.
They are real.
But so is my God!
When your chest feels tight and evil's presence is all around... call out His name, "Jesus!"
When your mouth feels like liquid and you think you can't open it, push with all your might and shout His name!
Worship the Lord better than David did!
Claim your promises because He promised them to you!
Claim His Word because he wrote it for you!
Claim His name because you belong to Him!
Claim His blood because it was shed for you!
Claim His power because He is in you!
Put on your armor.
Grab your weapons soldier.
Open your ears for the sound of your commander's orders. Listen. Obey.
Don't forget your canteen because you have to stay hydrated. Drink up soldier, drink!
Stay close to your wingman, and watch his back.
THIS IS WHAT ALL YOUR TRAINING WAS FOR!
Soldier, this is WAR!
Remember your marching formation, get in step with the jody, keep the rhythm with your brothers and sisters, move as one!
"Forward MARCH!"
"Quick time", 120! Move! Move!
"Double time" 180!!...
♪ "I'm a soldier...left! left! left!... in God's army.
And I'm marching...left! left! left!... claiming VICTORY!
I will not give up...left! left! left!... I will not turn around.
I'm a soldier...left! left! left!... marching heaven bound!" ♫
"Troops who march in an irregular and disorderly manner are always in great danger of being defeated."
-Vegetius: De Re Militari: A.D. 378
Be ONE with the KING! VICTORY is OURS!
They will cover your body, try to muzzle your mouth & suffocate you.
They will try to take over your mind and make you think you're losing it.
They have even talked many into ending their own lives simply through their presence.
They are real.
But so is my God!
When your chest feels tight and evil's presence is all around... call out His name, "Jesus!"
When your mouth feels like liquid and you think you can't open it, push with all your might and shout His name!
Worship the Lord better than David did!
Claim your promises because He promised them to you!
Claim His Word because he wrote it for you!
Claim His name because you belong to Him!
Claim His blood because it was shed for you!
Claim His power because He is in you!
Put on your armor.
Grab your weapons soldier.
Open your ears for the sound of your commander's orders. Listen. Obey.
Don't forget your canteen because you have to stay hydrated. Drink up soldier, drink!
Stay close to your wingman, and watch his back.
THIS IS WHAT ALL YOUR TRAINING WAS FOR!
Soldier, this is WAR!
Remember your marching formation, get in step with the jody, keep the rhythm with your brothers and sisters, move as one!
"Forward MARCH!"
"Quick time", 120! Move! Move!
"Double time" 180!!...
♪ "I'm a soldier...left! left! left!... in God's army.
And I'm marching...left! left! left!... claiming VICTORY!
I will not give up...left! left! left!... I will not turn around.
I'm a soldier...left! left! left!... marching heaven bound!" ♫
"Troops who march in an irregular and disorderly manner are always in great danger of being defeated."
-Vegetius: De Re Militari: A.D. 378
Be ONE with the KING! VICTORY is OURS!
A Writer's Recipe
Ingredients:
Experience
Pain
Joy
Dreams
Hope
Visions
Anguish
Soul
Passion
Vulnerability
Transparency
Pen & paper (or writing tools of choice)
Pseudonym
Prepare:
Take 2/3 of experience and mix it with 1/2 cup of vision. In a large, seperate bowl, mix together pain, joy, dreams, and hope. Using the pen, gradually blend the experience & vision mixture with the latter mixture inside the paper. Take heaping spoonfuls of passion and anguish, and pour it into the paper.
Place the entire amount of the soul, vulnerability, and transparency in a clear, glass container. Blend well. Lumps will remain. Set it aside for unlimited viewing by anyone who so chooses. Never cover it. Even if you want to. Skipping this step will result in an empty paper, making your efforts at this recipe moot.
Choose a (cool) pseudonym (pen name) and place it at the end of the paper when it you are done mixing all the ingredients together.
Use the remainder of the experience & vision... when you get it.
~The Porcelain Soldier
Experience
Pain
Joy
Dreams
Hope
Visions
Anguish
Soul
Passion
Vulnerability
Transparency
Pen & paper (or writing tools of choice)
Pseudonym
Prepare:
Take 2/3 of experience and mix it with 1/2 cup of vision. In a large, seperate bowl, mix together pain, joy, dreams, and hope. Using the pen, gradually blend the experience & vision mixture with the latter mixture inside the paper. Take heaping spoonfuls of passion and anguish, and pour it into the paper.
Place the entire amount of the soul, vulnerability, and transparency in a clear, glass container. Blend well. Lumps will remain. Set it aside for unlimited viewing by anyone who so chooses. Never cover it. Even if you want to. Skipping this step will result in an empty paper, making your efforts at this recipe moot.
Choose a (cool) pseudonym (pen name) and place it at the end of the paper when it you are done mixing all the ingredients together.
Use the remainder of the experience & vision... when you get it.
~The Porcelain Soldier