I lay my head on the pillow to sleep, and you are there.
I am consumed with my thoughts, and you are still there.
It seems I can’t escape you; your presence is always with me.
I walk along the trail with the trees looming, and you are there.
I wade along the shore with the shells shining, and you are there.
I sit among the people with the chatter boxes, and you are there.
It seems I can’t hide from you; your presence is ever with me.
You remind me of a lifelong friend, but I am not sure you are such a companion.
I’d like to be rid of you instead of making you a home.
I rise with the sun, and You are there.
I rest my eyes with the moon, and You are there.
I sort through my feelings and my thinking, and You are still there.
It seems I can’t evade You; Your presence is thick as billowed smoke.
I walk along the streets with the children playing, and You are there.
I hike to the mountaintops with silence deafening, and You are there.
I plunge into the darkness with the fears looming, and You are still there.
It seems I can’t elude You; Your presence is encircled as a cloak.
You remind me that You are a friend, and I am grateful you stick closer than a brother.
I’d like to welcome you for eternity, for Your presence shadows all the pain.
And I will pray the Father, and He will give you another Helper, that He may abide with you forever— the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees Him nor knows Him; but you know Him, for He dwells with you and will be in you. I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you.
That one who hurts the most has to reach to another.
That one who drains the life takes even the morsel.
That one who cries the longest must be silenced.
That one who glares the hardest is allowed the violence.
Life isn’t always fair.
Life doesn’t always make sense.
Everybody has a story to tell.
Everybody has a scar that shares hell.
There is One who bled while others were hailed.
There is One who winced while others scoffed.
There is One who was pierced while others were passive.
There is One who died while all others lived.
Life isn’t fair, but there is a hope.
Life doesn’t always make sense, but there is a love.
His story is the redemption to tell.
His scars are proof He conquered hell.
Penned – MG – 5/9/22
And He bearing His cross went forth into a place called the place of a skull, which is called in the Hebrew Golgotha: Where they crucified Him, and two other with Him, on either side one, and Jesus in the midst.
John 19:17-18
…who Himself bore our sins in His own body on the tree, that we, having died to sins, might live for righteousness—by whose stripes you were healed.
1 Peter 2:24
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.
My soul yearns for a country I’ve not yet entered.
My memory is drawn to a lane it’s never walked.
My eyes search for a site I’ve not yet lived.
I wonder how I can dream of a place I’ve never been, and then I remember.
We’re not home yet.
We’ve not yet received the decree.
We’ve not yet acquired the dream.
We’ve not yet taken hold of the promise.
We’ve not yet been enraptured by the hope.
But rest assured. It’s coming.
Now I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. Also there was no more sea. Then I, John, saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from heaven saying, “Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people. God Himself will be with them and be their God. 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.
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.
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.
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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