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

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

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

Happy Father’s Day

For so many, Father’s Day can come with a roller coaster of emotions. Every little girl or boy wishes to have a Daddy who loves them, protects them, guides them and defends them, but sometimes, that’s just not how life turns out. And sometimes, we’ve had to say goodbye long before we’re ready.

Sometimes, rolling into the Father’s Day weekend, every thing can be just fine, and then, all of a sudden, you just cloud up and rain. You feel grouchy and agitated for no particular reason. You just want to sleep a little more, isolate a little longer, or pull back a little deeper.

You can’t really put your finger on it at first, and then, the tears roll down like a drenching spring shower, and you realize you really do miss him. Maybe it’s because he was bigger than life, filling the void deep within. Or maybe he was too absent, dropping in whenever he felt suited him, but left you waiting by the door with your bags packed foe a visit way too many times to count.

Or maybe, it’s never a missing or actual longing for him because he was so broken that he tried to break you in ways only nightmares can speak of; yet, the tears come for what could’ve been, should’ve been, and for what never could have been imagined…

So, for all those whose Father’s Day weekend brings with it a bit more complicated feelings than what you’d hoped for, know there is a God who sees you, and He longs to fill that void, heal that brokenness and mend those wounds that you’ve tried desperately to hide or ignore.

He truly is the best Dad a girl could hope for!

A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families, He leads out the prisoners with singing…

Psalm 68:5-6

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

Stop to Smell the Roses … and Count Them, Too.

I love roses. Really, I love flowers of almost any kind, but I’ve always been partial to roses, poppies and Gerber daisies.

Particularly, in red and hot pink… but these orange roses above are absolutely beautiful as well!!

And lately, I’ve been drawn to them more and more while being reminded of the phrase, “Stop to smell the roses.”

See, life has just been crazy busy lately. Busy in good ways, I suppose, but busy nonetheless. And I find my heart longing for a pause…

A pause for refreshment. A pause for reflection. A pause for renewal.

In everyday life, and especially, in the busy days of life, if you don’t have those pauses that bring refreshment, reflection and renewal, you might very well die. If you don’t die, you might drown in the heaviness around you. If you don’t drown, you might just grow resentful or depressed or burnt out.

You’ve got to pause. And you can’t pause with chaos in your head. You’ve got to pause away from the frantic. You’ve got to pause out of the panic. You’ve got to pause beyond the emotion and turmoil.

Get alone till you’re not alone anymore.

Sit still until you are still.

Breathe until you do breathe.

And then, inhale even deeper and smell those roses.

And then, take another minute to count them.

I promise you. If you’ll do this often, you’ll find you can face tomorrow a whole lot easier. … doesn’t mean tomorrow will be easier. It just means you’ll be a little stronger to face it.

I will meditate on the glorious splendor of Your majesty, and on Your wondrous works. Men shall speak of the might of Your awesome acts, and I will declare Your greatness. They shall utter the memory of Your great goodness, and shall sing of Your righteousness.

Psalm 145:5-7

The Fight of Seduction

The sound of your voice still rattles in my head.

The effects are slowly but surely becoming dead.

The triggers you brought always through my heart were shot.

But now, your deceitful lies have all been quickly caught.

The murmur of your tongue is fading from my mind.

The impact of your facade dissipates like scattered grind.

One look, one word, no matter the hour, I’m still taken back.

Yet, I fight and I claw to resist the seducing hatred that only brings me lack.

Oh, how I wish to cry, to scream, to vent out to all the world.

I want to demand justice and deny your pleasantries that swirled.

I fight my own daggers, realizing bitterness is not the answer.

Gall cannot bring life, my bones it will eat like a cancer.

So, I walk away, never seeking retribution or the slightest reconstruction.

I will wait for time to tell and truth to shine before my souls gives to abduction.

I cannot be free from the memories that bring pain, but I can sing.

I can praise my God for His goodness and grace, for the life He will bring.

Penned – MG – 3/1/20

Don’t Hide the Scar

*A little late to posting today. My apologies.

I saw this picture the other day, and it struck a chord in my soul. Sometimes, we work hard to hide the scars we’ve obtained through the valleys of life. Many times, a scar leaves us with the memory of what is broken and marred. Often times, we try to cover the scar with a smile, a laugh or a seeking to remain in the shadows, thinking somehow, if the scar is never seen, the wounds and the pain will magically disappear as well.

I have found this statement to be so very true. “Never be ashamed of a scar. It simply means you were stronger than whatever tried to hurt you.”

Growth, strength and healing is all in perspective. Let truth be your guide. Let love be your light, and let hope be your destiny despite the scars with which you travel.

Hold your head high and embrace those things that remind you of the struggle, of the wrestling for the next breath, and always remember, your scars don’t make you a victim, unless you choose for them to be.

What Do You See?

As I was contemplating what to write today, I was reminded of this incredible devotional I read the other day. I thought I’d share it with you now.

Are you a prisoner of WAR or a prisoner of HOPE?

Are you a prisoner of your promise or a prisoner of your past?

How do you see God?

Will you see Him or will you see only you?

Your perspective will help you to pursue Him or cause you to forsake Him.

I pray you find His Hope today…

Devotional

*I do not own this devotional, nor did I create it. It comes from Youverse.

Sometimes, My Heart Just Grieves

I’ve had several conversations over the past few week with friends who are going through incredibly tough seasons of life, and, as I think back through them all, my heart just feels heavy tonight. Many days, these conversations cause me to seek good, practical advice, Godly wisdom and a lot of scripture to encourage, admonish and uplift their weary hearts. Often, these stories told cause my spirit to rise up in righteous indignation over injustices done. I encourage them to fight, to never give up, to seek God, as well as, to seek their personal well being at all cost.

Yet, sometimes, like this evening, my heart just grieves over their losses and their pain. I wish I had a magical wand that could, somehow, make all the heartache, fear, doubt and turmoil just disappear. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

If you’ve not experienced sorrow yet in your life, well, just keep on living, because it will come. If I can give you a piece of advice, both for those going through the trial and for those who are listening to the story, find someone to lean on. Don’t ever try to carry your burdens (or theirs) alone. You aren’t meant to.

Especially, for those of us who call ourselves a Christian. God never set up the Body of Christ for you to walk through this life experiencing all the brokenness it can bring and travel that painful journey alone. Find yourself a good church family, a wise pastor, spiritual leaders, and pour your heart out. Let them pray for you. Allow someone to come alongside you and help carry those burdens!

If you’re the one always walking alongside helping to carry the weight, you’ve got to learn to lean as well. You can’t always lean on those hurting, because they may not be ready to help carry you; however, you can find someone stronger than you to lend a helping hand. You’re not Superman! (Sorry to bust your bubble!)

Learn to lean. It’ll help you stand stronger.

Learn to release tears. They will wash your soul and help you to breathe deeper.

Learn to grieve. It’ll help your heart be real.

Learn to take a hand. It’ll help you to walk steady on that road to eternity.

Video is not mine. Simple YouTube search.

Video is not mine. Simple YouTube search.

Listen to both and be encouraged today. 💗

Learn to Dance

I saw this pic the other day, and please forgive me, it hit me all wrong. Yes, I do understand the concept. I do understand that everyone wants to not feel broken. I do understand that being happy and free feels so much better than being heartsick and broken beyond repair. I get it.

I’ve had my share of brokenness. I’ve had my share of broken dreams, broken promises, broken images, and broken foundations in my life. I’ve had more than my share of tears shed through the years. I’ve experienced more than some and not as much as others. Brokenness is not comfortable, enjoyable, or even a bearable element of my soul.

But I cannot embrace the cultural trend that forgetting from where I came makes me more joyous, more loose, more free to live. I refuse to welcome the notion that to obliterate my past makes me a better, more balanced, human being. I will not accept the propaganda that tells me “a forgotten past brings a brighter tomorrow.” (*chosen words before seeing similar quote online. No correlation or reflection. Unaware of that author, quote or beliefs.)

When someone is hiking up a mountain, forgetting from whence you came will only cause you to lose your way back down the trail. When someone goes on a long extended trip, obliterating the road map will only cause you to never return to home.

When someone tries to erase history, history is never truly erased. What has been has been, and there is no way to live as if it never existed. That is just pretending, and pretending just makes you as a child.

Being a child is wonderful while you are of a physically young age, but once you have crossed the threshold of maturity, that immaturity only makes you look like an ignorant fool. (…and yes, those can mean two very different things.) So then, you have to look yourself in the mirror and ask yourself the hard questions…

How old am I? How old should I be acting? Will I live my life in immaturity, ignorance and foolishness, or will I live in maturity, knowledge and wisdom? The choice is truly yours.

I choose to walk in integrity, maturity, wisdom and truth. I choose to embrace my past, my pain and my brokenness, even the shattered pieces that may always carry a shards of irreparable moments. I will carry on, even if I walk with a limp, and even if my scars are evident for all to see.

I choose to be full of joy. I choose to have peace. I choose to love and be loved. I choose to have life and give life.

Is it hard? Heck, yeah! Is it uncomfortable? Always. Telling you that’s it’s not would be returning to those childhood days of pretend and make believe. Life is so much better than the fairytales. Not because it never rains and not because there is no pain, but rather, because through the rain, I learn to dance, through the pain, I learn to sing.

And this song and dance is better than any mythical enchantment I could ever dream. This song and dance gives birth to a beautiful melody called life created by an unimaginable symphony of experiences and awakenings. Without these notes on the pages of my soul, I could never leave the legacy of song for my children, my friends, my family, for one who is ready whom I may never know.

So, I will choose to dance even when it’s raining and even though the storm brews darker. I will dance and sing, and sing some more, to bring a little memory of sunshine through the pain; so, the legacy will live ever more brightly for my children and those who are to come.

**Listen to this.

*I do not own nor possess this song, video or photos. These are all from simple Google search.