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Oct
04
THE KISS (a poem for my husband)


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I still remember the feeling I felt


When we first kissed…


I remember the spot my feet pressed into on the stairs


How the light held its softness


In the space around us…


So still


Was everything but my heart.


I remember the way your shoulders turned


As you leaned into me


The tilt of your face


And the scruff of your cheek


And your incredible smell…


You smiled as our lips met


And you pressed into me


All iron and ocean


At once indestructible and immoveable


and yet caressing, fluid and all encompassing


You wooed me with the promises you made me with your eyes…


Your kiss filled me with hope


the swell of your presence overwhelmed me


The power of your arms immured me


I felt you were invincib...


Sep
04
A Poem for My Children


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O my children, how I will long for these days,


years from now when I am worn and slow.


Your eyes bright and innocent,


as you ascend the stairs in the big old house.


Gaggles of socks and lunch boxes,


snack time and worry over tests.


Broken friendships and mended hearts…



“Did you brush your teeth?”



Unruly, regal curls and cares over muscles and curves…


Seven wonderful hearts around my table every night; and, oh, the laughter!


The giddy giggles of sisters, cascading into my heart from aloft…and the abrupt adorations of brothers, vanquishing imaginary demons and emerging as heroes.



Ah! My children have vanquished many a demon in me!



Precious ones, remember me.


Remember all...


Sep
04
When I Die


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Do not weep for me


When I die…



My sorrows, sung


My worries, wrung


The full breadth of the past, tightly hung


As a noose ‘round the neck of the enemy.


Do not weep for me



When I die…


My sin, slaughtered


My calling, coffered


My sacrifice of praise, perpetually offered


As I am enveloped by Christ in eternity.


Do not weep for me



When I die…


My blessings, blooming


My legacy, looming


My life of service to Christ, brightly dooming


The plans of pain for my seed, from the enemy.


Do not weep for me



When I die…


My cries, caught


My spirit, sought


The love of the Savior, tightly wrought


Around my soul and heart for eternity.


Sep
04
The Shepherd (A Poem for Mothers)


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Never forget the value of what you do in your home.


Whether you are dusting the furniture or wiping bottoms,


Reading a story or comforting your toddler at the doctor,


Wiping down the table or on your knees praying,


You are shepherding the hearts of your kids.


You see, it takes all of that…


The cleaning


The teaching


The putting on of Band-Aids and answering emails…


To affect the lives of children.


Each day you wake up to these blessings of Christ wrapped in your flesh and bearing your name


And you stand in the gap for them


Doing what only you can do


And all the things that are so hard to do…


Each day you are the watchful eye of Christ


The just Hand of God


The comfort of the Holy Spiri...


Sep
04
ON BECOMING


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“Have you heard it was good to gain the day? I also say it is good to fall, battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.” Walt Whitman


It is difficult


becoming who I am.


Growing into


God’s original contemplation…


grabbing hold with understanding


of the maiden grains of dust


uniquely blended by Magnificence


that


are


me.


Who am I, Lord?


I have spent years surrendering all


so much effort spent in forgetting


so eager to leave behind


the tarnished life, the waning over-being,


the pain-drenched whore I knew as sin


(but mistakenly thought was me).


And in that exhilarating exodus


I forgot myself.


So eager to lose myself to Christ


I lost sight of all the iron and spark He loves,


He...


Sep
04
AROMA PART I (a poem for my father)

This is the first poem in a 4-part series on the concept of AROMAS… and how scents can trigger old things. Good things, bad things, Great Things.



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Aqua Velva and Old Spice under the Christmas tree


Even to this day


I think of you when I


smell them


And the short season of my life


when you were the most


precious aroma to me


I remember burying my face


in your neck


your Devil Dog haircut


pricked and prickled


and I didn’t care


little arms wrapped around


Hope


Larger than Life


Humor and Strength…


falling asleep


on Daddy’s chest





Sep
04
AROMA PART II (a poem for my husband

This is the second poem in a 4-part series on the concept of AROMAS… Good things, bad things, Great Things.



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All of my life I fringed about


lost in the dark places


the lonely spaces


of dank and dire


Until you…


Hard to describe your breath


sweet and masculine


always sweet


like the very air in your body


was laced with sugar and metal


like your lungs were


uniquely designed


to turn my pollution


into purity.


I first noticed it


at our first kiss


as you held my face


you inhaled


all my doubt


and wanderings


and exhaled all over me


the sweetest


longings


for me


to give you my heart


forever.


Sep
04
AROMA PART III (a poem for the man who abused me)


This is the third poem in a 4-part series on the concept of AROMAS… and how scents can trigger old things. Good things, bad things, Great Things. Don’t worry, they aren’t all this intense. But I believe the mark of a strong mama is an emotionally healthy mama, and in order to be that we have to go to the dark places and slaughter the demons. I refuse to be afraid of the pain. I will face it head on and Christ will meet me and fight for me in the places of agony. And, funny thing, they become very tiny once Jesus has had His Way in those areas of my heart. He is Light and light reveals so healing can take place. This poem is just a reflection on an old pain. Don&rsquo...


Sep
04
AROMA PART IV (a poem for jesus)

This is the final poem in a 4-part series on the concept of AROMAS… and how scents can trigger old things. Good things, bad things, Great Things.



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Your scent is multitudes, plethora, myriad


The wind of summer blowing ocean into my lungs


or buttercup essence against my cheek


strong like a hurricane


and gentle as distant thunder


Your breath is life, animation, resurrection


turning dirt into men and holding the earth in orbit


the flies of summer wade through Your exhalation and dance on its waves and excess


Does perfection have an aroma?


I inhale You, exhale You


Your breath is all around,


everywhere


loving, protecting, refining, perfecting


And fills me even when


I forget You.




Sep
04
I Call You


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And now I call you lover because I can be naked and vulnerable with you and I can trust you to hold my heart in yours.


To never leave.


To never forget to love me or that I am the apple of your eye.


I call you friend because I can talk to you at 3 in the morning after complaining to you all day and you still listen.


You have never once turned me away.


You sit and have coffee with me in the morning and give me the BEST advice, and rejoice in my bargain shopping and marvel at my shoes…


And we giggle together, my friend and I!


I call you brother, long lost, because you stick up for me now when the bullies of my life come into my head and try to take my spiritual lunch money.


You tell them to le...