Pride

The struggle for privacy

Fear or Conceit

No matter what causes you to hide, the result is always wounding pride.

The concealment of shame is revealed in the blame, and it’s exposed in the rain.

The seething, veiled anger causes pointed fingers, refusal to linger.

The struggle for privacy

Terror or Pain

No matter the attempt to shield, the answer is never to yield.

The removal of truth is shown forth in the uncouth, and like pulling an eye tooth.

The reeling emotions causes rare demotions, and inner commotions.

The struggled for privacy

Real or Fake

No matter the desire to perform, the reply is always to conform.

The hiding of faith is displayed in scaiths, and expressed in the haith.

The disclosure of reality causes exposure of brutality and the coming finality.

Pride

Pended – MG – 4/5/22

Pride goes before destruction,

And a haughty spirit before a fall.

Proverbs 16:18

Blindsided

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.

Revelation 16:15

Living in the Overflow

We all live in the overflow…

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.

John 8:36

The Daddy-Daughter Dance

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.

Zephaniah 3:17

The Sound of a Lonely Heart

Do you hear it?

The steady buh-bump of a heartbeat

It’s almost monotonous as it beats on and on

Sometimes, it will jump ahead and run a race for a bit

Yet, usually it’s just the faithful buh-dump that continues to march along.

All by itself

Do you hear it?

Late at night, you can hear its inner groan

As the sighs are taken and the tears are falling

Sometimes, the moan becomes a wail as eyes burst forth with life

Yet, usually it’s just the haunting sound of the broken beats

Do you hear it?

The silence is deafening, as there are no words to fix the dull aching thuds

Sometimes, the echo of the night is all that can be heard through the suffocating stillness

Yet, usually it’s just the steadfast weeping of a lonely heart.

Penned – MG – 1/19/22

Let It Live Elsewhere

I read this, and it settled in like a long awaited truth to my soul.

This idea of letting go of pain, of allowing it to be placed somewhere outside our body, outside our mind, can be so healing.

When we hold pain and sorrow, it only brings more agony and anxiety.

When we constrain the heartache we’ve lived, it only brings more shattered dreams.

It only brings more grief and breathlessness.

Don’t restrain the tears.

Don’t stop the weeping.

Don’t halt the search for peace and joy.

But do allow that gut wrenching, earth shattering, all consuming knife within your soul to be let go.

If pen and paper bring an ease, then let the words fly as if being chased by a cobra.

If paint and canvas bring a breath of fresh air, then create the masterpiece of a lifetime.

If a song can be sung or a lyric be written, then allow the harmony to find it’s way as a raindrop finds the groove in a muddy hillside.

But clear that affliction from your thoughts.

Issue that grievance a pardon or prison sentence to far away lands.

Surrender that anguish from your heart and begin to breathe again.

Freedom comes with the release.

Now, go live.

And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.”

Revelation 21:4

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also abounds through Christ. Now if we are afflicted, it is for your consolation and salvation, which is effective for enduring the same sufferings which we also suffer. Or if we are comforted, it is for your consolation and salvation. And our hope for you is steadfast, because we know that as you are partakers of the sufferings, so also you will partakeof the consolation.

2 Corinthians 1:3-8

The Lord is my shepherd;

I shall not want.

He makes me to lie down in green pastures;

He leads me beside the still waters.

He restores my soul;

He leads me in the paths of righteousness

For His name’s sake.

Psalm 23:1-3

One Year Later

Sat down to write Christmas cards tonight

Only to realize, I had to make a transfer to create more room

As I rewrote each name and address, one change kept coming up

So many things are different one year later

A friendship that has been washed out

A wife who decided to walk away

A grandparent has left for the other side

A husband who said goodbye forever

My heart broke after I wrote one name and not the other

My eyes shed tears as I remembered what was lost

My inhale grew a little deeper and the exhale a little longer

So many things have changed just one year later

A bond forgotten for brighter days

A dream shattered beyond recognition

A once in a lifetime sliced beyond repair

A light that grew dimmer until it smoldered

Oh, how I wish I could wave a little wand

Make wronged things right and old things anew

Oh, how I pray You’d come back sooner

Make desolate times dissipate with a feverish hope

You can change so many unraveled in so much less than one year later…

An Old Friend

Some days, I simply awake with a sadness, a longing I can’t explain.

It’s not like I’ve had a bad day.

I’ve only just awakened.

Yet, the weight of pain creates tears that threatened to overflow.

I searched my thoughts to see if it’s a dream I may have had, a lack of sleep, or something that was said.

Some days, it’s just simply a feeling I must fight to see the sunshine again.

It’s not anyone’s fault.

I can’t find the one to blame.

It’s not a fitful night.

Yet, it’s like a fog that threatens to overcome my musings to darken my day.

I search for words that cannot be found and listen for comfort that cannot be grasped.

And then, I remember.

This is grief, an old but sneaky friend.

He slips in when you least expect it to settle into your morning routine like a weathered but comfy cloak.

Once his name has been revealed, I can open the blinds and let the sun beams warm my face and watch as it chases away the rain.

For grief isn’t here to crush my soul.

It is only here to remind me to feel deeply, to breathe slowly, and to focus my heart on what is to come.

And when Hope is what is to come, grief can no longer consume my exhale.

Penned – MG – 12/1/21

Those who sow in tears

Shall reap in joy.

He who continually goes forth weeping,

Bearing seed for sowing,

Shall doubtless come again with rejoicing,

Bringing his sheaves with him.

Psalm 126:5-6

https://youtu.be/YNqo4Un2uZI

I do not own or posses this song, except via Apple music.

So Many Broken and Bruised

I do not own or posses this pic.
Website: https://pixels.com/featured/mirror-reflection-loriental-photography.html

I look around at the festive gathering and underneath the smile, I see the broken and bruised.

I breathe in the cool breeze and wonder how the atmosphere can change so quickly.

I gaze across the room and fight the tears welling up as I see her laugh to hide the pain.

She wears her smirk as a veil to cover the scars that run too deep.

She flitters past to appear all together, never lighting too long to allow searching eyes to peer in.

She waved goodbye before the stories could resurface and the truth could be revealed.

Yet, in the final farewell, I saw the unshed tears held at bay by the dam of poise and finesse.

I heard the longing in her slight tremble when she claimed she’d be alright.

I watched as her frame faded into the night and wondered what shadows would chase her past the midnight.

Oh, how I wished I could bring her back.

I yearned to call her name and beg her to stay.

I looked in the mirror to see a remnant of her image peeking through the lighted reflection.

If she only recognized His love is still there waiting for her surrender.

If she only perceived His grace is still hanging on right where she left Him.

If she only realized His mercy never walked away.

She could come to know all the healing that she needed are the very things she left behind.

PENNED – MG – 11/27/21

The World Moves On

When your heart is broken, the world should stop and pay tribute.

The everyday routines should pause and have a moment of silence.

The hustle and bustle should be freeze-framed to allow for a breath.

But nothing halts.

Nothing slows down.

The earth keeps moving.

The sun keeps shining on.

When grief is gripping your throat, the hands of the clock should not tick.

The hours seem to rage when they shouldn’t be allowed to exist in the present time.

The minutes are no longer like sand but rather like molasses that shouldn’t flow.

But nothing halts.

Nothing slows down.

The earth keeps moving.

The sun keeps shining on.

When your soul is bereaved, the grave screams louder.

The tombstone seems to be the inscription on your mind.

Yet, there is hope. For the dirty cave doesn’t have to be the end.

Nothing halts, but His love is ever reaching.

Nothing slows down, but His grace speeds up.

The earth keeps moving to His rhythm.

The sun keeps shining on to show you The Way.

10/18/21 – MG

My flesh and my heart fail; but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

Psalm 73:26

Blessed are those who mourn,

For they shall be comforted.

Matthew 5:4