Tag Archives: hope
2.
Two. What are two years worth? Can days be discarded, undesirable and unwanted ones? In a telling shortness, the two years behind me are worth all that’s ahead. I’ve cursed plenty of those days playing the victim drunk stumbling on … Continue reading
in homage and honor.
“Tomorrow found in today; what’s ahead discovered in days behind.” This has become somewhat of an echoing mantra and anchoring core value in my life. Often what we need for today and beyond lies in the path behind us. A … Continue reading
seek thou joy.
“Go forth, my heart, and seek thou joy.” Paul Gerhardt Joy is found by those who search and see. Shuffling in a life less than, marred by mistakes, taken by circumstance, wilted in days echoing hollowly. It is easy for … Continue reading
there and someday.
“One day is worth a thousand tomorrows.” Benjamin Franklin Now defines there. Everyone wants to get there. There, a place nestled away waiting in a future day. When troubles have subsided and problems figured out and all that we need, … Continue reading
things she wants to say.
It’s in the remembering that we live braver, hungrier and more convinced of hope and grace and beauty swallowing. I have noticed small bright pink post it notes lying around in the same spot. At first glance, I paid … Continue reading
a shadow.
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. Psalm 91:1 “The nights are loneliest.” Standing there in a room of his most loved, he was all alone. So was I. … Continue reading
FEAR and the sinking.
FEAR: The best behind me. FEAR: Life will always be this way, shadowed in loss. FEAR: My daughters always wounded learn to survive, emotionally maimed. FEAR: All goodness is fleeting and happiness constantly reframing. FEAR: Love past will suffice. FEAR: … Continue reading
the beholder.
“If we shield the canyons from the wind, the beauty of a new creation may never be gained.” Elizabeth Kubler-Ross Grief never goes away. To be repetitively honest, I hate writing about it. Pull the covers back waking to a … Continue reading
empty pockets.
What of home draws us in but the hope of being, the want of becoming? Like a steadied dock secure at the edge of waves tossing with random relent whether coming or going or sinking strength abandoned, home is escape … Continue reading
home.
Warm door knob waiting on cold nights. Waiting. Wanting. Welcome. Walls whisper greetings and memories both enchanting and unnerving. Home is where the heart is and where treasure buried deep feeds the soil of one’s heart, always and forever.