Blissful Arrest

Take me away to 

Prince Edward Island, 
Garden of the Coast.

So I can spend the night in a big wild cherry tree, 

all silvery in the moonlight, on my way 

to Green Gables’ Shore.

Drive me down the peculiar red roads 

and adorning serenity of White Way Delight.

Arrest my senses in fields ofLavender

 and Queen Anne’s Lace.

Luxuriate my palate with oysters, 

clams, and lobster while 

the salty sea breeze captures my breath.

Stroll me along the crimson 
brimmed harbor, discovering giant windmills and 

faded lighthouses set in a background of dark blue.

And spend the evening at Laird’s Hill 

gazing at the red and orange hues, 

melting into the Lake of Shining Waters.

Tuck me in at the white farmhouse 

with a faded green roof.

Ironic Destiny

InTheGangOfPharisees                                                      

  Killed Christians

BlindedByTheLight

    Changed            

OneTwoThreeFourFive     

years   behind   bars     

         

    Martyrd         

BytheGangOfPharisees      

    Tasting                             

TheIrony of it all

NowIfTheyCouldTalk    

    I wonder       

WhatWouldTheySayToPaul?

Take Me Back

Gate falls. Pulsing red

lights. Tall, white

 poles passing.

Desperate to smell

salty ocean breath

Red, orange and

purple hues

swirl. Listen,

aquatic rythym syncs your breath.

Captured castles await you

Knee deep

can’t reach, crashing,

rushing,

and sucking

stinging eyes, almost lost my suit

Shades of red

skin. Frizzy hair, untamed.

Steamy

five o’ clock shadow.

Heavens flash and rumble,

run for cover

El’s drive-in.

Generations rave.

Fried shrimp,

cole slaw and ketchup

between the bun.

 

Purple awning dawns.

To the pier and back

with mom.

Tiny footprint engrave the tracks.

Gritty toes, a trail of sand,

seashells in the sink.

Hot cocoa melted marshmallows

soothes the lingering chill.

Hints of Me

I'd walk from Cork to Larne to see the forty shades
or all the way to China for a glimpse of ancient jades

Life after death, eternal living
Chaotic to calming, life giving

Critters in disguise
To the predator's surmise

Squeeze, juice, or slice
A fragrant spray or over ice

Starbucks, Garnier, and BP
attract with hints of me

George, Abe or Andrew
Out of print: two

Hug the tree, bend the knee
Refuse to reuse

From Titletown to Emerald Isle
to Stephen Kind's The Mile

Flatter with purple, magenta or red
Deuteranopia paints me dead

Ensalada, melon and tea
Blue and yellow matrimony-y

"Lu se" in Mandarin Chinese
Not so good in macaroni and cheese

Relationship with the Dead

Desiring relief of
endless grief,
Mothers come,
searching the name of their son,
longing for one last
conversation.

Hand placed
upon the engraved,
now
representing
just a name
absorbing grief.

Say goodbye,
longing for
the name
to come alive.
Instead to find,
a wall
with names engraved
staring back
in your reflection.

Risk

Nerves like hot wires.  My heart smells impending rejection. Pensive, I lie awake contemplating the risk I am about to take. Bittersweet anticipation swirls throughout my body as I picture letting ten, nearly complete, strangers a glimpse into my soul. Eight short hours to pass until my poem, wrought with my heart's deepest thoughts, awaits the critique of my professor and classmates. Although the critic I fear most is in my head, poisoning the little hope I have. Words flail against my innermost, unguarded thoughts. Hoping for the honest critique of my fellow comrades, I want to quiet his voice for good.

Deep reflections unconsciously embedded in the recesses of my soul sprout into daylight.  Threat to this newly formed life constitutes more than correcting syntax and grammar; The real threat: the critic’s voice propelling fear as I write honest details, breaching my level of comfortable vulnerability. Vague and abstract thoughts build a barrier of ambiguity, impervious to my insecurity.  Another voice comes through loud and clear sharing truth that compels to risk again: A good writer is specific, detailing concrete images and experiences scaling all five senses. Then these words resounded within the walls of my mind:

"Playing it safe may keep you from scrapes and bruises, but never gets you anywhere. To accomplish great things, one must risk every last drop of confidence for the holy cause. Success is born out of risk. If you fail, life is not over. You get up and keep going. And, pray of course that God will guard you against unnecessary suffering."

Surprising passion erupt in me as I discover the depth of untapped ambitions for writing. A summary of the experience I describe as the most enjoyable pain I've ever experienced. Sacrificing typical pleasures, my daily focus narrow to five simple tasks: Sleep. Eat. Class. Work. Write. ...Do over.

Mercies in Disguise

 "Blessings" by Laura Story is a new favorite song of mine. The depth of her lyrics are all the sweeter because I know the story from which they were inspired. In fact, I knew her husband before a brain tumor hospitalized him in 2006. Before this tragedy, he was on staff with the college ministry that led me to Christ. Laura Story's faith was put through the unexpected fires of fear and loneliness as she watched her husband suffer; most young newlyweds don’t imagine their spouse being kept alive at one point by breathing machines or having to find their way through significant post-operative vision and memory loss.

“Life is filled with things you don’t expect, but the Bible tells us to respond by trusting God and continuing to worship him,” Laura begins. “Martin (my husband) hasn’t received complete healing—and that can be hard at times when we view God as all-powerful and all-loving. But here we are now saying, ‘Yes, this is how faith works.’ God has proven to be faithful. We have been truly blessed out of a circumstance that at first didn’t seem like much of a blessing at all.”



Singing and teaching in churches across the United States, Western Europe, and South America, she believes “we have a voice that wasn’t there prior to this suffering. I can hardly begin to tell you of the hundreds of hurting people we’ve prayed with, people going through more than we have. This is a chance to share the gospel.” (http://www.laurastorymusic.com/bio)

The lyrics of her song sting to the core and comfort all at once. Truthfully, I don't love to suffer or have my desires go unfulfilled or experience loss. However, it is a comfort to know that these temporary unpleasantries are God's mercies in disguise. The object of our hope makes all the difference. Hope is desire, expectancy, anticipation of something that will come. It's a fixation on something worth waiting for, and even worth suffering for. Titus 2:13 says we are "waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works."


True and lasting hope is only found in Jesus Christ. When we pray, our prayers  should be for that which draws us closer to Christ. When we long, it should be for the heavenly. When we hope it should on the confident expectation that Christ is coming again and will make all things new. And for now, He is "a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul" (Hebrews 6:19). Hope in present sovereignty and future triumph!

WHY? Because when we put our hope in objects of comfort, peace, protection or in people or in feelings, we will eventually crumble along with collapse of those things. Put your hope in Christ and the loss of these things won't shatter you to pieces. He is "a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul" and when all else fails, He remains. All else pales in comparison. I've said too much...read the lyrics below. Let the words bless your heart.

We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
And we cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
All the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
And what if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know the pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home,
It's not our home

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy
And what if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are Your mercies in disguise