I make my bed in the morning as I think of the elderly woman fleeing who hasn’t slept in 3 days.
I brush my teeth as I think of the young man who lost his yesterday from shrapnel coming through the window.
I fix my coffee as I think of the little girl who is crying for lack of water in the deep dark train tunnel.
I get dressed as I think of the mother clutching the last dress she has, the one she’s worn for the last ten days as she holds her baby tight, wondering if her world is coming to an end.
War. What is it good for?
That’s the old song. It says it’s good for nothing. It says it brings no solution. It says it only brings heartache and decay.
Remind me. What is it good for?
I jump into my car, driving across town, and I think of the men, barely learning the world, crammed into tanks, being lied to about their missions and their cause.
I sit at my desk as I think of the soldier huddled with his gun, waiting for the shot.
I walk down the hall as I think of the many who may never walk back through their door.
I leave for home as I think of the millions who are fleeing their own, never knowing if they’ll return.
War. What is it good for?
That the age old question. It’s said to be a folly. It’s said to be for purpose. It’s said to be the point in which decisions can be made.
Remind me. What is it good for?
To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under Heaven.
When you’re grouching on your son, but really, you’re grouchy because you’re still seething from the argument with your man.
When you’re snappy with the cashier, but really, you’re wanting to snap at your little girl who accidentally spilt the chips in aisle 3.
When you’re ill with your neighbor, but really, you’re grouchy because the car seat got ripped; you spilled your coffee, and you just dropped your keys while your arms are full.
You came out of nowhere. Although, I knew you were always there. You hit me without warning. Although, I was expecting it everyday.
Blindsided
You flew in like a hurricane. I saw all the warnings, but I kept on driving. You landed like an earthquake. I was wondering, waiting, but I rode on the train
Blindsided
You demanded as a tidal wave. I resisted, yet you kept pushing and taking. You dominated as a tsunami. I revolted, yet you devoured and consumed.
Blindsided
You absorbed like a vacuum bomb. I can’t breathe, and you come back for more You depleted like a hand grenade. I can’t feel, and you return to draw again.
Blindsided
You prance forward as a golden peacock. I weep, yet not for me, for your hidden demise. You shout as a heralded trumpeter. I grieve, yet not for me, for your veiled destruction.
Blindsided
He will come out of nowhere. Although, you’ve known He’s always there. He will hit you without warning. Although, you’ve been expecting Him everyday.
I find myself screaming across the chasm You don’t have to live to die
Blindsided
Penned- MG -3/21/22
Remember therefore how you have received and heard; hold fast and repent. Therefore if you will not watch, I will come upon you as a thief, and you will not know what hour I will come upon you.
Revelation 3:3
Behold, I am coming as a thief. Blessed is he who watches, and keeps his garments, lest he walk naked and they see his shame.
There’s an old song that proclaims this adage for some, “War. What is it good for?” And the singer answers himself to say, “Absolutely nothing!”
*I do not own nor possess this pic.*
As we have a war raging on the other side of the world, this song came to mind, and it caused me pause…
Pause, to think.
Pause, to wonder.
Pause, to ponder.
War is always devastating. It is always mind boggling. It is always consumed with questions and concerns. It is always heartbreaking and oh. So. Overwhelming.
Overwhelming enough to bring panic.
Overwhelming enough to bring depression.
Overwhelming enough to bring paralysis.
War often can bring a surprise along with it. Although, we wish it came so differently, it can bring a sense of togetherness, a bonding that would never happen in any other scenario. Whether they be broken, fearful, wounded or strong, it’s a gathering of souls.
Souls that need protection.
Souls that need encouragement.
Souls that need reckoning.
Souls that need redemption.
War, in a crazy kind of way, can bring about resilience never realized until that moment. War can bring about courage that is fortified in the midnight hours. It can bring about a needed change to rebellious hearts.
Hearts that beat as one.
Hearts that beat with anger.
Hearts that beat with fear.
Hearts that beat with love.
Love can rage war on evil like nothing else ever can. Love can bring light to the darkness. Love can bring hope to the hopeless. Love can bring resistance and a halt to evil that would try to prevail.
And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
1 Corinthians 13:13
Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have thegift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing.
1 Corinthians 13:1-3
Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.
1 Corinthians 13:4-8a
For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.
It’s the month of love. Valentine’s Day is either loved or hated, depending on who you are…
So, what is this “love” everyone talks about?
Is it really real? Or is it just a fantasy?
Can it actually last? Or is it just a fairytale?
Love is everything they claim it is, and yet, it’s none of that and so much more…
Love is new birth and discovery. Love is exploration and the bloom of a flower.
Love is friendship and honesty. Love is mystery and the patient waiting for an unveiling.
Love is finding each other in the brokenness and surviving the tragedy by sheer determination.
Love is grieving and remembering, laughing and forgetting, holding on and letting go.
Love is acknowledging truth while having eyes half closed and speaking clarity while not saying a word.
Love is a 1,000 tiny miracles that bring two hearts together despite the chaos, the doubt and the criticism of the outside world.
Love is best described by the One who created it, implanted it, and destined it to be…
Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.
Don’t just leave your relationships hanging through this life.
Show up.
Be present.
Be engaged in their lives.
If they’re the jerk, then have the ability to speak truth when needed.
If they’re toxic, then have the guts to remove yourself when needed before you follow suit.
If you’re the unimaginable fool, then have the courage to admit it and make it right.
And for goodness sake, if it’s truly mental issues that keep you from them (or them from you), then get help for all involved, and do it now.
The distance isn’t worth it.
The void isn’t fair.
The heart wrenched cries are undeserving.
The questions when you’re (they’re) gone are too complicated to add to this process of grief.
The pain that is left in the wake of this kind of ignorance, in the dawn of sorrow, can be beyond capability.
And if you’re the one experiencing the anguish of brokenness:
Don’t allow that heartache to consume you to the point of disengagement.
Keep breathing.
Keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Get up in the morning.
Even if you must crawl.
I know it’s hard. I know it’s beyond hard.
And I know no grief is the same.
No one can tell you the “perfect way” to grieve; it is a different theater of actors for all.
But you can grieve right…
Grieve in truth.
Grieve in love.
Grieve in reality.
And grieve with HOPE.
Hope is the only reason to even walk through the pain.
Hope will carry you though this life and allow your heart to beat and your lungs to exhale even when you’d rather fall into the grave.
Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.
1 Thessalonians 4:13-14
Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him. Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken. My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge. Trust in him at all times, you people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge.
But which overflow you choose is vital to your vitality and peace.
You can choose to live in the overflow of anxiety: no peace can be found here, no rest for your weariness, no strengthening for your bones, no joy for your sanity.
But this choice is on the list. It’s your decision to pick it from the bunch.
You can choose to live in the overflow of anger: utter rage will consume you, suspicious and discomfort will be your bed and pillow, every moment filled with drama, every relationship teeters on the edge of fire.
But this choice is on the list. It’s your decision to pluck it from the bundle.
You can choose to live in the overflow of nothingness: no happiness can be found here, no purpose for your apathy, no relief for your depression, no clarity for your fog.
But this choice is on the list. It’s your decision to pull it from the plunder.
You can choose to live in the overflow of sorrow: grief will swallow you, tears will be your blanket, every second enveloped by brokenness, every friendship walking on the knife’s edge of the grave.
But this choice is on the list. It’s your decision to grasp it from the pile.
Or you can choose to live in the overflow of grace: no loneliness can diminish you, no indifference can devalue you, no hatred can murder you, no fear can unravel you.
It is your choice. You have the ability to select from the narrative and create your own story.
The freedom of truth is waiting.
Come and drown in the overflow.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Romans 15:13
Therefore if the Son makes you free, you shall be free indeed.
February… Oh, how it begins the painful dance of my heart each year.
It’s not that I’m angry. It’s not that I’m hating what I see. It’s just a longing within my once little girl heart that will never be fulfilled.
The beautiful pictures plastered all over social media bring sweet memories never beheld. Precious relationships promising treasured protection and defense for all her days.
His large frame casts a shadow not of harm or destruction but of love and nurture. Her petite form is sheltered, cherished and adored. They stand in parade for all to appreciate and celebrate.
I am thankful for his place in her life. I am grateful for her desire for his strength and fortitude. I truly am.
Yet, my heart breaks time and again for the wee little one standing at the door, her packed bags awaiting his never return. She forms her own dance, spinning, twirling, hoping for his hand; yet, he never extends it.
Someway, somehow, she makes it to the One who holds the key. With tears streaming, hopes shattered and dreams crushed, He takes her into His arms, and swirls her life into a new masquerade where she can smile again and forever more be held where she always wished to be. ❤️
The Lord your God in your midst, The Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.
Joey and I have talked about this from time to time, and as I began to blog this morning, I ran across this thought in one of my notepads.
Thought I’d share it for a parent out there who needs to hear it…
There is a great balance in the weight of parenting. It truly takes both parents to survive.
You’ve got to find your niche. Find your balance. One of you will be good at one thing; the other will be better gifted at others.
Here’s a simple illustration:
One of our sons had a project to be done. It was started late, of course. I helped till midnight. I’m a night owl and pretty detailed. I stayed engaged till the job was done, and for this reason, I was very knowledgable of what was needed for the completion. This isn’t bragging; it’s just the facts as we both could see it.
The next morning, Joey dealt with a cell phone issue for another son. There was no blow up. No arguments. He just prompted the convo, said what needed to be said, and it was done. And honestly, it all came out much smoother than I would have ever made it to be!
It takes two. As parents, you have to figure out your weak spots and allow the other parent to balance you. Be honest. You’re not the best in all things, and neither is he.
You don’t have to be all things to your child. That’s God’s job. Be who He called you to be. Immerse yourself in His gifting.
I can’t scream this loud enough: Stop fighting to be “supermom/superdad.” You’re not created to be all things for all moments. If I could shout this from the mountain tops or paint a thousand billboards to make this message clear, I certainly would.
This isn’t a competition. You don’t have to be the best, nor do you have to demean your spouse to make you look better! You figure out what you can do and learn from your spouse on the rest. You don’t have to be the only hero.
When you struggle to be the hero, you only become a narcissistic hinderance in your child’s life.
Read up on narcissism. I guarantee you. You don’t want to go there! 😉
Happy parenting!
I will praise You, for I am fearfullyand wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, Andthat my soul knows very well.
I’d like to ask our modern culture and our “evolved” Christian believers, “When did we get to the place where Truth cannot be spoken for fear of offenses and sin cannot be confirmed for fear of judgement?”
If we are a follower of Christ, Truth is absolute and irrevocable, and sin is sin, not just “grace-filled” or “judgement-filled.”
When did we get to the point where we care more that we not offend someone than we do about their very souls? When did we get to the point where we work so hard to preach grace that we forsake the reality of sin, hell and an eternal death?
If we read the Bible, from the front cover to the very last page, God is so very clear: the wages of sin is death.
We’ve gotten to the place where we’d rather argue, and too often quite hatefully, with our brothers and sisters in Christ over the possible offenses taken or not taken over an issue rather than the merits of truth.
We’d rather drum up dissension over the intentions of someone’s words rather than seek His Word for His truth on the subject at hand.
We’d rather slash the hearts of our fellow kinsmen, and in turn, wound those who are listening and trying to find their own answers, rather than speak with love AND truth and let the Holy Spirit bring forth His conviction and mercy.
It sounds too much like the arguments of old, when men and women would argue over the color of the pews and the length of the choir robes while their babies were battling issues of sex, drugs and rock and roll.
It smells too much like the wayward youth of decades past who fought so hard for their independence and their owns rights that they forsook the ancient boundaries set before them to show them The Only Way.
It looks too much like the sly dealings of darkness who always brings forth confusion, contention and chaos in order to distract, disengage and devour those who are most vulnerable and afraid.
Wake up, Church. Lift up your eyes.
Look upon the One whom we have pierced! Gaze upon His torn flesh, His stripes, His pierced hands and feet.
He was wounded for OUR transgressions.
He was bruised for OUR iniquities.
It was not for someone else but for you and me.
It was for our own prideful stance. It was for our own arrogant words.
Not a one of us is not guilty. Not a one of us is worthy of the mercy and grace He gives.
It is time for us to stop claiming our own opinions and laments as Gospel. It is time we stop doing what is right in our own eyes.
Lives are at stake.
The innocent lie within the balance.
It is time we all repent.
Moses stood between the children of Israel and God’s burning wrath. Moses stood between the children of Israel and the armies of Pharaoh.
Moses cried out to God for their lives to be saved.
Moses was their hero. God was their Savior.
Whose hero will we be?
…if My people who are called by My name will humble themselves, and pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land.
My journey didn’t stop with mere time travel or writing; it led me to become one of the most sought-after empaths, a soulful psychic who reads the hidden depths of the human spirit. I’ve been blessed—or perhaps burdened—with an ability that allows me to feel the emotions of people from every corner of time.
I am a licensed psychologist based in Greece. My love for housekeeping has inspired me to create this blog about home management and family relationships. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing!
Dedicated to movie nerdom, nostalgia, and escape. In the late 90s, I worked at Blockbuster Video where they let me take home two free movies a day. I caught up on the classics and reviewed theatrical releases for Denver 'burbs newspapers and magazines. Today, while raising two young, beautiful daughters with my amazing wife, I look forward to anything rated R and not Bluey. Comments and dialogue encouraged!
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