Showing posts from October, 2014

Bent in the stillness

I remember tiptoeing past her so as not to disturb as she was bending over the chair, head buried.  Not that she would have heard me in the midst of her deep secret telling.  And I listened as her heart cried out the hidden parts that shook her down to where she was.  Down to her knees where she stayed for a time I could not imagine, and she wouldn't rise until it was all wrung out.  Her eyes and her heart leaving behind parts in that chair where my mother reached out to touch heaven on our behalf.

Time ticks by and I look back at myself, the mother of two children toddling around.  My prayers were quiet whispers of safety made in a comfortable bed because I didn't understand that danger was already lurking around the edges of their souls.  The time for kneeling in front of chairs was not now, and I had all this life before me.

But the thief of souls comes to seek and kill and destroy and it's when a son grows old enough to choose how he will live his life that the fear of…

Living large

I peered through the glass then adjusted my position until I could see clearly.  They were hard to find, being so small in such a large tank, but I knew what I was looking for.  The smallest one was flecked with a tinge of green on its underside.  The other two were just showing signs of their mature color, and I was excited to see the orange and yellow of their bellies.  Our toads joined the family nearly a month ago, and we've been checking on them daily to ensure they had plenty of water and food.

They originated from the tropics where they are indigenous to the rain forests.  I feel a twinge of guilt that they are confined to the space of an aquarium.  Do they know what they are missing out on?  No doubt they are loved and cared for.  They do not have to worry about finding food or water.  They do not have to worry about being hunted down or accidentally squashed.  But are the guaranteed basics of safety and comfort a fair trade for the exotic environment they were created fo…


I've been working through a book that asks tough questions.  It gets down into the bones of your soul.  It pries into your past, and begs you to look at the raw hurts that have been tearing away the best parts of you since you were a child.  We all carry wounds, there are scars barely covered by the thin pink of our skin, and we know if it is touched again it might break open and we would bleed to the point of emotional death.

There is fear in pain and death, so we tend to ignore the fact that it is a very real part of living.

I am 34 years old and I still struggle with insignificance.  Looking back, this has been a theme in my life.  As a child, I longed to be loved and accepted but found myself feeling lost in the shadows of the outspoken.  It is quiet there in the dark.  Your voice can't be heard.  You find the insides of you screaming to be accepted, but you are too afraid to ask if you are enough.  And so you sit alone hating how you feel.  I'm not good enough.