Written for Citysonnet Photo a Day: September 29: autumn colors
I sit under low lamp light with quill resting in my hand just right, simply a beautiful sight
Dip, the tip dripping with emotions in the most elegant calligraphy
The feather flirts with the paper in tickles as it writes
Dip the pen into the ink pot, as my thoughts are escaping from within, fleeing to papers spot
The quill makes the heart quiver, as the writer in me comes to life at its sight. Drizzling words the final draft
Leaking my soul for all to uphold the feather take flight upon the paper that is my heart. Art!
Dribbling to no end, hand cramps. Just one more trickle, and its final splash. Declaring “The End”
Feather light put back in it spot, as the lamp is turned off. Writer’s delight to have waltzed delicately in cursive perfectly
Until we me again, me and that gorgeous feather quill pen. Corybantic to no end, I could pick it up with never ending fervor
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 28: landscape
My husband, and I are getting ready for a move. It came to me that this will be our first place that we will not be able to hear the train chug by
We will no longer feel the vibration of the pillow beneath our head just as we fall asleep from the whisk of the train bustling fast on the track
We will no longer wake from a startled state just to realize oh it’s the train passing by, oh my *sigh*
We will no longer be able to sit out on our deck, and count the number of cars. It is quite fun, all the different color cars one by one. Our eyes starring hard not to lose track of a single car. Laughing at how different our numbers usually are
We will no longer be able to hear the iron on iron of the great Burlington Northern in our corner, or see their lights as the track divides guiding them on their way. The engineer happy behind his route
You would think in all honesty we would find this to be like a peace treaty. No more trains at our new place. We will no longer be able to hear what is a major part of what makes this part of our blue collar town thrive. The realization is we will miss the sounds of the trains whisking by
We can’t place a dollar amount on the sentiment of the caboose as it trails as last, but always best. We can’t purchase the cherished sound of the horn as the train shouts out to all other trains I’m getting ready to leave. Stampede
So as I write this I am actually kind of sad I will no longer hear the trains, the vibrations under my feet as my whole floor shakes
Our meetings with the train now will be of that of everyone else in a hurry, as the railroad signs fall. All the cars in line waiting for the caboose so we can be on our merry way. Usually though by that point everyone seems aggravated. Me though I have a deeper appreciation for our trains, and what they do for our city
Trains go by, but no longer will they be part of our every day hearing, kind of endearing
It seems we grow more fond of something that at times seems annoying or a grievance once we no longer have it
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 27: rain
Real talk; 🙏🏻
I need to get real here, having a double mastectomy has been much harder emotionally than I ever anticipated. I know validation of being a woman does not come from that of vanity. I just know I did not take the time to grieve what I have lost. My emotional well-being has suffered as of recent. I am trying to live in the now, and am doing my best to practice acceptance. I can’t change what was, or that I know longer have these body parts. I also need to find my validation in God!
I have been very emotionally upset, which means I need to work on a few things personally. Asking for prayer from my dear family/friends. I have one more surgery November 9th. If I had it my way I would not go, but it is not my way. Please in all of this know I know how blessed I am to be cancer free, I just feel at odds with my new body. I was never a fake me makes me type of girl, and here I am getting my tissue expanders taken out for implants. I just wasn’t okay with nothing at all at the age of 46. Just asking for prayer for acceptance, and for my upcoming surgery to go without complication. God bless you all, I needed to get this off my chest (play on words)…🙏🏻💜
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 26: change
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “container.”
Getting ready to move! Disclaimer I don’t believe in magic, but if I did I wish for all of my belongings to be a twinkle of my nose into a container. How nice would that be. We just helped my son move, and I over did it. I took a week to get back to feeling a little better. Now it is time to get our house all packed! With a twitch of my nose, no! With the support of my family/friends, and God as my strength we will make this move yet! He always carries us through, so here we go readying for our move
Look to the LORD and his strength; seek his face always. 1 Chronicles 16:11
Written for Citysonnet September 25: Photo A Day: strange
Two bridges in the same State Park. One is a man made structure with beams, and construction materials for support. The other is made from the land we hiked. With limbs from trees, and branches. Both unique in their beauty. Like that of the bridges of life. Some are made by others structurally sound for the crossing. Some are a walk of faith. Each step creeks with forward movement. Yet we need at times to cross them both.
The beauty in that of the bridges of life. Never be to quick to burn a bridge, for the rebuilding may not come to pass. Trudge the bridge, like you trudge through life. One step at a time, one foot in front of the other. In stride…maybe with a friend by your side. Mine is God He walks all the bridges of life with me, hand in hand. We always make is safely to the other side, it may not be the route I expected to be on. As I look back, I can see why God chose that particular way or path for me. For He always has had my best at heart
Photo Credit me; Riverside State Park. Spokane Wa. Hiking the massive terrain. One on a beautiful summer day when the trails are endless with hikers detours left and right. The other on a brisk winter day. The bridge of branches covered with frozen snow. Both beautiful in their own right. Both walked over, and we made it safe to the other side..
This is no fairy tale or tall tale. I see you Lord crisp as the morning air. Your presence every where
My vision is not skewed. Ears are not muffed, I look around how magestic is your name in all the earth. How pleasing to the ear the echoes of your words in my heart
You did not pull a bunny from a hat, or a coin from out of no where. Apocryphal the mystical creatures we read of in other books of old. No truth to be told in those. All make believe. Something up someone’s sleeve. You created the heavens and the earth, all its features
I am not delustional in all the miracles retold, just as your blood shed for the saving of us is no illusion
I am firmly planted in the soil that you planted me in. What I hear, and what I see is what you ask of me. I read of truth, hope, and victory. I read of stories of strife, madness, and deep sadness
No fairy tales, real life miracles. A butterfly as a marker of your creation, but no tinker bell sprinkling fairy dust
Just open the word and begin in Genesis creations story unfolds. For you Lord are greater than any of fables creatures. No tall tales here, go hide under the bed if you don’t want fed to The Bridge to Teribithia
Ancient stories that bring God glory. There are giants, devils, and kings, in the Bible, all the makers of the top selling fables. The difference being these stories are real. Not fictitious. Get out the Bible take a look, go on read it. On your knees you may find yourself grovel. Especially if you were ever one to call it a fairy tale or fable. Fictional it is not, may your heart be open to every word written. Enveloped in the stories of old, retold. It is the way, the truth, and life. In it may you delight
Yesterday was one of my rougher days, having an emergent visit with my doctor for some trauma from my double mastectomy.
So having seen this as I was on my way out the door was a huge blessing in disguise. I love it in here. I have learned so much from all of you. A lot of new things I had not seen when blogging in here before. 6 word prompts, and being asked to try one. How much fun!
Getting to be involved in Cee’s Photo Challenges, Linda G. Hill’s One-liner Wednesday’s, and the Saturday SoCS prompt has been so much fun. Not to mention the countless comments left with such gracious, and encouraging words. So I thank you all, I hope to continue to grow in my daily writing. I hope to know you all more through all your posts. I feel blessed to be part of the WordPress community. God has so blessed my life with all of your gifts, and talent!
Blessing to you all, 💜
Lisa M. Boyd
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 24: scrumptious
Beauty and the beast, beast and the beauty. Truly a miraculous story, and God gets all the Glory
Bloodthirtsy out to soak my skin caverness deep with alcolohics rage body numbing, and dumb to no end
The monster in me unleashed with each sip, turning green with anger I pour more making sure every one knows my wrath, savage bent
Needed not wanted oozing from within, my tongue dripping with lies my eyes hidden with my mask of flask. Camouflaged with the bottle
My tears not pure, just self loathe. Coated from head to toe toxic blow. My liver hurt. Yet my heart was dead. Feed me more, even the score
Sadistic creating my own self demise. Twisted and calculated my breath lost respect with every word spoken. I was blind, deaf, and dumb
Wake for the sake of alcohols pour, wanting to end my suffering. Just a buffer to make it through the days. Yet my own shaky hand held the knife. Shed my blood of my own self pity. Dripping with hate
Savage I am no more. God woke me from my drunken quake. He directed me to lit path of truth. He washed me in a grace filled basin. Splashes of grace, mercy, and love. Dunked me until all the filth washed clear, and I could look within a mirror
Beast turned to beauty. Savage to warmth. God saved my ravenous poisoned soul. Made me ravenous for harvest plentiful in only Him. Had me drinking of the holy water, and called me into him as His daughter
Saved from savage, put down my knife. Broke the bottle, and my spirit poured out new
Beauty and the beast. Beast and the beauty. Truly a miraculous story…
Been going through a lot, my heart still bares threads. Torn some pieces, edges nudged. Just slightly smudged. Didn’t realize the emotional toll my double mastectomy would take on me
This is my plea, my voice rings out to thee God above. Over mountain peaks, and roof tops I shout this for my heart needs your ear. I need willingness to accept, been very down on myself
I am not poor
I am not shabby
Jesus is my caddy
I am not inferior, or low quality
Jesus is superior
I can’t change the status of my life
I have to grieve
I am not less of a woman
I need to be willing to give myself some grace
I am not subpar
I am not second rate
Jesus is written on my hearts slate
I have to get to a place of acceptance of my new body parts. Art in the making is what it seems. Still trying to wrap my mind around these new things. I guess they call them breasts at best. Jesus hear my plea
So when I look in the mirror things are most definitely different, but I am alive. They are doing there best to make me look great. I try with gratitude to not shake my head with disgrace at the odd shape. Wave my old breasts goodbye. Jesus hear my plea
I will rise above yet another test that God has given me, my prayer is that I swim. Not sink. Pain inflicts, but will not be my fall. I call to thee instead with my plea. Disfigured reflections, I fear rejection. No sensation in either one, numb. Bumping into things, and no feeling. Jesus hear my plea
Hey I know I am not too shabby, just another journey to walk. Not just talk. Probably sounds like I have not made up my mind, on how I feel about myself. Trying to convince myself, yes a little. My emotions are a little of track from this new rack I wear. Jesus hear my plea
A new road now unfolds, imperfect yep. God makes up the difference, substandard not with Jesus as my right hand man. For with Him I will stand facing the mirror with acceptance of what stares back at me. Jesus hear my plea
Time to swim, catch my breath. Tread the water I used to sink. Give myself a break, shake this feeling of indifference away from me. Look at my body with a new perception of acceptance. They may be little strange to look at, and sometimes I gasp. Jesus hear my plea
Watch me take flight, as Eagles soar for Jesus I adore through all the tribulations. This will not get under my skin. Sink or Swim. Jesus hear my plea
I choose swim until the very end…He hears my plea
but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. Isaiah 40:31
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 23: vintage
Am I a little thrown off?
Am I a little anxious within?
Am I a little more tired than usual?
Am I a little nervous of my fever going up as I get dressed?
Am I a little aggravated that I have to be seen as an emergent patient with post double mastectomy trauma?
Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes! I over did it!
Am I trying to allow God to help me think with clarity of mind?
Am I trying to pray for my anxiety to be stripped from within, for the fear to subside?
Am I trying to muster all the strength I can in Him, knowing He will carry me if need be?
Am I trying to trust God with my fever, and all the pain I am in?
Am I trying to turn my will, and my life over to God and say “thy will be done?”
Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes! I over did it, “Thy will be done!”
God’s word is in order for me to stay out of the way. Each day new! My spirit, and soul must be one with Him. A kinship of the highest authority. He takes priority.
One might ask how I go about this. I marinate my heart in scripture, transfixed eyes upon each word written.
Allow the Psalms to seep within, the book of Proverbs to permeate. Then it will all resognante daily for His glory to be seen in my hope, joy, and experiences.
Stew in the book of Genesis, steep in the New Testement. As Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John they got it going on.
Brew over Job, as his trials make mine seem oh so trivial. His life stripped, and ripped apart. Groveling to his knees. He still gave God all of his heart, now He was smart!
Immerse myself in the apostle Paul, for his life was without stall. It was all God even in imprisonment. Asking the tough question would I be jailed for the teachings of my Lord for all to hear? Makes one think. Spears the heart towards being all Jesus called me to be.
Soak in the living waters, and let the Holy Spirit abound. Introduce, Deuteronomy, Numbers, and Leviticus, for none were written without reason.
Tis’ the season to infuse myself in Revelation for we live perilis times. Already written.
God gave me this all in that of the Bible. A living manuscript for me to adhere to, for without its real life application my clarity might as well go on the wayside.
For in his word is where I charge daily, so nothing can get in the way of my new found clarity. Rarity? Nope not even, just another believer of the miracles God can do when we infuse Him into our lives. He is my all, and redeemer of my soul! This is all in order for me to remain still, and get me out of the way. Each day, renewed.
Thy word is a lamp unto my feet
and a light unto my path. Psalm 119:105
“You’re good driver for a woman.”
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 22: field
We were a sham
We were a joke
We were in shambles
We were a mockery
We were a masquerade
We were a travesty
Scoundrelism deployed, hearts destroyed
You sneaking into bed at 5 am undercover fast of the shameful night you had.
Me sneaking off to bed undercover of one to many drinks to bid you adieu.
You with tales of your closest friends falling into aduteriated peril. Hoping they would be at loss for everything. Going to bed with your own head between your tail. Hypocrisy filled your pockets.
Me with tales to my friends telling them how happy we were, and how all our dreams in Florida were in the making. Drinking my way through each word to help it seem legit. Slit my wrists, in my choke. What a joke. I had another night to lie next to you.
You in forget of your family turning off your phone. I see your wedding ring left on the bedside table. You with a drink in one hand, and bass in the other. Screeching to 90’s cover songs. Your eyes stray to the girls cleavage spilling out, as she leans in to drool over your stage presentation. Your drunk words forget your family, for a moment you are a bachelor. You seem luring, and endearing. Hush now don’t tell anyone.
Me in shut down mode tuning out the white noise. One more drink will deafen me to their calls. “Mom come play a video game with us, Dad is not going to call.” Blah, blah, me not so endearing.
Pretending at its best, we were long lost. Our marriage many years over. Forgiveness you had sought, but the lifestyle you could not drop. We were 4 in the selfish clamity of our marriage. We buried our own kids alive. For it was us that they were to survive, thrive, and find love. Covering them with gloved hands stealing the child in them. All our sins they saw with what should have been innocent eyes. Adulterated/Idolatrous were the ways we walked. In the world we had taken up stock.
Our kids they can’t breathe anymore, I will keep silent no more. I will shout it from every mountain top in hopes it echoes far, what we were was a hoax!! We toyed with the world one too many times, made a mockery of our wedding vows.
Shake me Lord to my very core, for thee I adore. Forgive me of my ways, and in you for not fervently seeking pleasure. Make my family whole again. Forgive me of being self consumed. Keeping everything behind closed doors.
The door is wide open now, no hush here. For another day sober, and over is the FARCE! May every causality find peace, mercy, grace, and love. Even the one who stakes no claim. May that heart be broken the yoke again open. Breathe life back into my children let them not asphyxiate on our failings. Let their hearts set sail to unveil all their gifts within.
Hush no more, there is no need for silence…God is the director of this show take off your masks this is no longer our Masquerade Ball. He runs the show!
Draw me close to you with your magnet pull, never let me go. Draw me into you
Rapturous is your grace. Allow me to always seek your face. Tug of war no more, the pull was too great. I gave up, and declared your name (Jesus)! Nothing has been the same. Fell onto gracious land, sinking at your feet. The most absolute liberation
Stagnant is the weight of the worlds lure, I shall stay baited in your word. A snatch of your line, and I am kept by you. Your love for me devine. Caught by your fisherman’s hands, bringing me back to dry land
My focus is the cross. There I do not toss and turn burning with the days loftiness. Crafted by my maker. Magnetic is your pull, for The I uphold glory, and honor. My genetics lead me back to Genesis. The beginning of this magesticness. There I take root, at the beginning, and know with all my heart with my eyes fixated on you, my end will be that of what Revelation writes. My name in lambs of book of life. Oh what a beautiful sight
Draw me close to you, with magnet pull never let me go. Draw me into you
Worship the LORD with gladness; come before him with joyful songs. Know that the LORD is God. It is he who made us, and we are his ; we are his people, the sheep of his pasture. Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name. Psalm 100
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 21: important
Cloaked; wore the veil of shame, cloak and dagger was my game
A lie sat at the surface of my lips
From alcoholic poison words would drip, soothing the moisture absorbed. Absurd in my own selfish hoard
A theifl! Callous, and defeat were the shoes I wore. An alcoholic whore. For God was pushed out the door, threw away that key
There was no hide, just a scared little girl sitting in her corner. Wanting protection, yet so fearful of rejection
God was calling on me, and I pushed Him so far from my sight. I sat in the darkness in the steal of the night
Made my own bed of sin. Billows of lies. Tripped too many times on my so called life, walking a fine line
A thief! Callous was my heart. Had drinking down to an art. I was the master of my own disguise
God kept calling on me, and wanted me on bended knees. That is when I finally gave in, and put my bottle down. Traded my lies, for truth in Jesus’s word. A crown
The air is clean, and my body pure. For God’s holy water I drink from His well daily. Time has told I am 7 years old new in Him. Sober is my march. I keep my eyes fixated on the cross. For there is where I win with Him
Victory proclaimed in Jesus name, one day at a time. One more day sober, one more day his daughter. For I serve such a gracious King to love a wretch like me…
Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death?
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost
But now I’m found
Was blind, but now I see’Twas grace that taught
My heart to fear
And grace my Fears relieved
How precious did
That grace appear
The hour I first believedThrough many dangers
Toils and snares
We have already come
‘Twas grace hath brought
Us safe thus far
And grace will lead us homeWhen we’ve been there
Ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun…
This weekend was just one of those weekends. I guess you could say I was in a bit of a funk. A little stuck.
Nothing too daunting, or that prayer could not see me through. I just have been waking in immense pain. I think per my personality I have over done it a little. My breasts felt like they were on fire, and I was extremely exhausted by the pain.
Healing from a double mastectomy is not just wham bam, and you’re healed. It is a lot of rest, and recovery. I don’t do very well sitting still. My sleep was suffering which doubled up with my mood. My poor husband who just wants to fix me, oh what to do?!? I know he could feel my energy, and it made him sad.
His suggestion yesterday was sweet, and very compassionate. Knowing he might have the chance at getting snipped at a bit. “Let’s go for a drive honey.” It took all of me to muster enough energy, but there we were side by side in the car. His hand in mine, and knowing that I probably needed to get out of the house I managed a half smile. A little laughter here, and there too. For how sweet of gesture for him to do. He could have left me at home, suffering with pain. Nope! He was kind, and his heart was 100% sacrificial love for his bride. He could not bare to see me not my usual bubbly self.
As we were driving, and talking I looked up in the sky. Oh my it was a heart shaped in the fluff, baby blue too. It was timely to say the least. I felt God made that heart just for my eyes to see. Of course I proceeded to take a picture of it. So in my pain, and rather dull mood I looked up, and oh my the sky was a beautiful shade of gray hues with a heart right there in the middle. I felt God in that moment. He made me realize the gift in my husband, and the gift in life. I might have been in extreme pain, but the cancer is no more. That sky was for me to see on that drive (suggested by my sweet husband). I know this for sure when we are connected to God He meets us in our need. He met me there in the car with my stare, and He gave me a heart shaped in a cloud to reveal his presence. It woke me from my hum drum mood. Before long my husband, and I were both rocking out to an old 80’s song. Air guitars, and all.
So classic, in an instant with God we can go from being a zero to a ten. He lifts the spirit, and He knew in that in that moment I needed my baby blue heart surrounded by puffy gray clouds for only my eyes to see. Jesus met me there in my car, with a heart in the sky to catch only my eye. Timely
“My times are in Your hands …” Psalm 31:15. At the right time, God will provide your need. At the right time, God will deliver you. At the right time, God will rescue you.
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 19: intriguing
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 18: gentle
Summer is shedding its skin, the heat of the day is no longer out to play. It is saying its farewell, and allowing autumn’s introduction
Summer loving, sun kissed breeze, summer dancing in the streets. Summer loving, why must you leave? The warmth of my skin tingles from sweat beads
I have to accept that you must go, you are one of four seasons for a reason. I will miss you making my skin feel so pretty, and glowing with color
I will miss my mood enchanted with the beautiful sunrise, and sunset. That good ol’ vitamin D. Can’t you see, you and me have always been buddy-buddy
Until we meet again, summer loving. Mountain biking like a crazy mad woman. Just can’t get enough. I don’t want to have to store my bike away. Summer I so wish you could stay
I don’t want to say goodbye or bid you adieu. Get out my flannels, or put away my Keen’s. In an instant my golden colored skin, will change to white as a ghost. Weirdest thing a person ever has seen. My color just goes, as quickly as my buddy. Summer
Oh Lord when my life became yours I know I illumated the morning sun. Every beam that sprung from it. Rays of hope, grace, mercy, and love all from thee above. Attributes
Oh Lord when I became yours I know that my gait was audacious for you were at my right side. I wanted everyone to see your love in me, spilling from every chasm loves light. Bestow
Oh Lord when I became yours I shed my old skin, and was clothed with honor, dignity, and strength within. Redeem
Oh Lord when I became yours you made me a display, you the potter and I clay. Into the kiln, refiners fire my hearts one desire. To know
Oh Lord when I became yours my smile was from ear to ear, and rapturous was my new found love, bold for all to behold. Take witness
Oh Lord when I became yours it was that of a new birth. My soul longeth after thee, and to emit from within. Forgiveness
For there is no greater love known to man than to lay down one’s life for his friends. John 15:13
Now how could a love like this not radiate all across the land, such sweet fragrance in that of my potter’s hands. Mold me, make me, take me. With these hands I lift in praise of you the potter, and I the clay. Adhere
Oh Lord when I became yours it was thee I adore, my heart yours for the taking. Breaking my old from self, so I can now break bread with you. Remembrance
Take me, Mold me
Use me, Fill me
I give my life to the Potter’s hands
Hold me, Guide me
Lead me, Walk beside me
I give my life to the Potter’s hand Hillsong Worship
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 17: interesting
Live in the past I will not. It is the same old human reaction that if only…
If only I had done this different
If I only I had could go back, and make things right
There is nothing I would change for I would not be right where God has me, and wants me. Right here sitting drinking my coffee
Imaginary was fun as a kid, but you see that was my story I sought in that of a bottle. Drink it down as a fairy tale potion. No notion of my reality. With each drink tall tales to no avail of that still being my life. When I woke from my hibernation nothing had changed. Usually it was worse, for I had cast a spell upon myself with evil scoffs of that brew. Mirror, mirror, on the wall, and before any other words could come out another shard of glass fell to the ground. My image could no longer be seen. Broken in the glass my face in puzzle pieces no one with the patience to piece it together again
A magic potion with special ingredients that make things go away. Mythical I lived as I pretended I was the happiest in all the land. When really I was heavily burdened, and was poisoning myself to no end
So imaginary for me is not fun at all maybe as a wee-one. Today I live as real as real can be. Loyal, and rich. Not rich with monies. Rich with life given from God. Rich with love, relationships, and blessings overflowing. Why would I want to pretend when what has been written is far better than that of any story of a fictctious nature. It is my story!
It comes with gore, grief, heartache, thievery, fighting, drama, and much suspence, as you turn the pages it has a victorious middle with love and overcomings so triumphant it is nail biting. What’s next, is still being written. It is a story still being drafted, and crafted by the greatest of authors. The characters are the same, but a couple have changed. The main character, and the binding of this book is God (he being the authority). For he took the pen in which this story had been written in, and he is now the pen holder.
It is not fairy tale it is all non-fiction. I would not change a single dictation in this book. It is notated with all truth (hard to bare yes). Yet it is my story, and without it I would not be who I am today. For without all the grit of my story, I would be oh so boring. This story as it is being manuscripted, gives me character. The character I have become as I sit here drinking my coffee, is the one that in the end of this story will get to see everything God has called me to be. He will get all the Glory!!
Now if we are children, then we are heirs heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory. Romans 8:17
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 16: sepia
I have been down roads shard with glass, with no shoes or socks. My bare feet sliced, and slit to bits. Bleeding in pools of blood I smeared. Slippery. Nothing I could do to get around them. Like a thorn in my foot, festered and diseased. Still wasn’t enough to bring me to my knees
I have been down roads with molten lava spilling its venom fast with fiery. Eating away my skin, bone exposed. Stubborn was my walk, rot with balm of waste garbage. Still not enough to bring me to my knees
I have been down roads so desolate, and dark. I could not see anything. It was as black as black could be. My depth perception was left behind. No hindsight is 20/20 then for me. I was blind to the road I trekked. Still not enough to bring me to my knees
I have been down roads with the roughest terrain. Lost, my compass broken. No skip in my step. No bounce left. My shoes, had set place in the most ill place. I could not see up from down, my life was spun inside out
I had been down every road at this point, running from God with shame as my sprint. I was out of breath, and so bent. Tears were bleeding my soul dry. It was time to fall to my knees, plea. The soil beneath toxic with weeds, wanting to crawl to my neck in strangulation to my death. Coffin open waiting for me
It was on my knees that God cleared the ground underneath, gave me a few breaths of reprieve. He lit the area around my body, and I was able to see. I knew it was time to give in. I tossed him my running shoes. He gently lifted my chin, and wiped away my tears. He lifted all the years I allowed the locusts to eat away. He wiped the dirt from my face, and gave me a drink from His canteen. Freshest water succumbed my soul. Seeped deep my lifeless body. Whole
It was on my knees God restored my sanity. He broke my chains, and shackles were cut. He gave me the gift of new life. My slate of compass crazed ways was wiped clean. Resorted back to health. Feeble no longer. In His eyes He had already forgot I had been on the run. It was done
Job 4:4 Your words have upheld him who was stumbling, and you have made firm the feeble knees.
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 15: floral
You are the air I breathe
Your grace breathed in and through me, invigorating as fresh as a new sprung spring drooling down a mountain side, in you I reside
Your mercy new every morning, as new as a baby with its first breath of life into this world, eyes wide open. In you I hope
You are the air I breathe
No toxicity, replenshishment from the purest source. Allow me to drink always from the holy well, allow me never a foot where I use to dwell. In you, your holy presence may I stay
I swell with breath that gives me strength. It was such a smooth transition. You drew me into you, my spirit falls fresh on you. In you, Holy Spirit fill me
My heart has metled into yours. You took me quietly one last time from my darkness, you let me melt inside of you. In you, my heart is new
You are the air I breathe
I no longer wake wanting to drink from the unholiest of water. Empty no more, my heart is full. I am void of nothing. In you, I am complete resting curled at your feet
I am crisp with new air, my inebriation is gone. For I sing a new song. Chaos no longer lives here, everything in is order. You Lord, have given me new life that is sober. In you, all the old is shed. Me a new creation in its stead. Me!! You made me!!
You are the air I breathe
2 Corinthians 5:17 17 Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 14: dappled
Here in Spokane we are in a state of emergency. We are even housing the homeless in fitness centers, schools, and area shelters our air quality is that hazardous.
The city has closed schools, that were supposed to start tomorrow. Work for many people has been cancelled.
So once again we are stuck at home, but it does not have to be all bad. It is just my husband, and I. We have always made the best of our time together. Even when we first quarantined from the pandemic we enjoyed one another.
Today we watched a little football, talked about life (especially the times we live in), laughed, and got a little goofy. We had a little Snapchat fun. We love being outdoors, and yes being locked in we get quirky. 54, and 46 we are still kids at heart, wishing we could go out to play. But not today!
Being locked down with your best friend can be awesome. Times like these are what you make of them. We get to chose to either live in the moment. Making the best of it, or we can be miserably unhappy. We chose to live, laugh, and love. We chose to be goofy!
Being locked down can be fun, and having your best buddy by your side makes it all the better no matter what life’s storms we must weather. God is our life preserver. He can inflate the spirit whatever the circumstance.
God set the precedence for this day, and we chose to dance in the rain. Or rather stomp to the rhythm of the soot! Never take a single moment in this life granted. Just smile.
A good laugh is sunshine in the house. — William Thackeray
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 13: musical
Violent is our city’s smoke filled sky’s. Nestled in a Valley the infectious pollution blankets our streets. It more than tickles our nose. Agitates the body from head to toe. Air quality at an all time low. Yet Lord we know you are still in control. Keep our anxious hearts from beating fast from the unknown. For thee I uphold.
Shut in tight, blinds and curtains drawn. The smell still seeps through the cracks in our walls. Recirculate the air they say. This is all absolutely absurd. You can only see the tallest buildings silhouettes. The wildest of days seen in my lifetime yet. Vacuumed in tightly, the air we breathe causing anxiety. Eyes itchy, throats burn, our stomachs churn. Yet Lord we know you are still in control.
Our city only just began to open up, and it had been a slow phasing too. Masked, rules set in place. Now our city is shut back down, and locked up. A thief in the night the fires burned crazed. Phased us back to shut in.
Virus plagues, pollution desecrates, fires broiling. Our city is soiled in soot fallen from the earth, we can taste it. None discriminate. Shut-ins, the news advising us to stay home. As soon as we take one step forward, we are just as quick taking three steps back. Under attack. The Lord is doing something in this land, waking His people! Shaking things up a bit. People are unhinged! Venomous and bent. Evil lurks. To thee I uphold. Knowing in all of this uncertainty, God is control. I believe we have seen a lot, but at the same time I believe we haven’t seen anything yet. Hold on tight, keep looking up for there is only one who knows. Keep looking at the one who hung on the cross for all who are lost!
I trust my unknown future to a very known God!
Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness. Isaiah 41:10
Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken. Ecclesiastes 4:12
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day September 12: made of wood
It’s never to late to show up in need, and desire of God’s will for your life. In an instant you can change your hearts beat. Pray for Him to meet you in your strife. God will show up. He is that gracious of a Father. So just holla’!
He will be there, not in an year. Not even a month, He will not let even a week pass by. Days nope, not hours, nor minutes He will not stall. He hears your cry for help. He will be there in the midst of your yelp!
For God’s address is NOW!
I love the LORD, for he heard my voice; he heard my cry for mercy. Psalm 116:1
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “collar.” Use it as a verb, a noun, or metaphorically. Bonus points for using it in all three ways! Enjoy!
Collared in God’s love. For years I was on the run. Enraptured by grace I stopped long enough to see His face.
The collar around my neck finally loosened with His grace. I was panting for my run was so long, and hardcore. I was no longer bound by my own noose. I called a truce.
I was finally caught at the cross, and he leashed my heart. Lassoed it, with the bond of his mercy so great. I knew I was free, I was able to put my old scraggly running shoes in the garbage. The soles were worn through to my barren feet blistered, and calloused. No more malice, or insanity as I prayed for God to free my heart. Collared in God’s love.
Hi all you wonderful peoples! Thank you to https://arielaonthego.com/author/arielaonthego/ for nominating me for the Sunshine Blogger Award for inspiring positive thoughts! Her posts share a charismatic personality, and she represents a polished author. Check out her website. This is a first, so I’m very honored to be nominated. I’m going to post some rules for my nominees.
RULES: Thank the person who nominated you, add the link to their blog, answer the eleven questions given to you, nominate 11 other bloggers, ask your nominees 11 other questions and notify your nominees after you upload your post.
Thank you! What an honor to be chosen for this beautiful experience, thank you so much arielaonthego. Blessings blogging friend…💜
Here are arielaonthego’s questions for me.
1. What is your favorite movie?
I love so many movies this the hardest question for me to answer. I love too many for so many a reason. Lots of 80’s flicks, and a few great ones recently released.
2. Do you like Universal, or Disney better?
Oddly enough I worked for both in Orlando Florida. So I was a guest, as well apart of the crew. This is hard they both are so very different. I will have to say Disney though. I love all 4 parks, and Magic Kingdom really is magical.
3. Are you a total bookworm like me?
I love to read, I have many a favorite author. I mostly read Christian authors. I would not say I have my nose in a book all the time though.
4. On a scale from 1-10 how would you rate your level of craziness?
I am can be crazy fun, and I can be a 10 depending who I am with, and where I am.
5. If you had one wish, what would you wish for? (this question has been asked many, many times!)
I would wish my children all the happiness in the world, and pray they all find a relationship with Jesus Christ.
6. Do you like roller coasters?
Not a huge roller coaster fan, I like rides. I can handle indoor coasters better than outdoor.
7. How many countries have you been to?
Sadly one, and that being it is on the Washington State boarder it would be lame if I could say I had never been to Canada.
8. Have you ever set a record before?
I have put a record on a record player does that count 😂
9. Can you spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious from memory?
Yep sure can, I love that word!
10. What is your favorite animal?
A Lemur, they are so cute!
11. Do you have a Pinterest account?
I do, but it is not in active use
Bahaha now it is my turn to pick some people that shine.
I am coming up 5 short, and with my most sincere apologies, our daughter one of two now that has tested positive for Covid. Our minds, and hearts are full. So I am a little side tracked, as well we are helping my son move to Seattle Wa. in a few short days.
So here are my questions for you sunshiny bloggers ☀️
1. If you could go anywhere right now where would it be?
2. Beach or Mountains?
3. Do you like whip cream on your hot chocolate?
4. Are you always early, right on time, or late
5. Do you push snooze on your alarm clock?
6. What decade in your lifetime has been your favorite?
7. Pepsi or Coke?
8. Dogs or Cats?
9. What is another hobby you have besides writing?
10. Can you cook? Legit question not everyone can (me). 😊
11. Blanket over head, or head out over blanket
Thank you again, and honored to be all sunshiny. Now to go take care of some family stuff. Blessings all, Lisa
I give myself to you. I hold my hand upon my heart in allegiance to you God. My flag flies at high mast every day
I am a soldier in your army. I wake to sharpen my sword daily in your word. Seeping in the words, you gave as instructions for my life
Making sure I wear the breast plate of righteousness. The belt of truth, shield of faith, helmet of salvation, and sword of the spirit
My feet are to be clothed too, “shod” with the gospel of peace. Comitting myself as a warrior brining back news of great triumph
I give myself to you. May my feet take me places they have not set print in. Proclaiming the victory of you, Jesus on the cross for none have to be lost
A victory that brings us peace, and a flag that never has to be hung half mast. May it hang high, and catch the breeze of peace. Making ruffled noises of songs of praise in Jesus’s name
I give myself to you, each day. I can see if I am on my knees, and if I pray you will help me get through the day. In your word, I will find my sword. I will sharpen it daily
I hold my hand upon my heart in allegiance to you. My flag hangs high “shod” with my fleeting feet from the day. Peace, Victory, Good News proclaimed. Higher on the mast, let all hear from near and far the victory of our Lord Jesus sung through the breeze, at high mast higher even yet for all to see persnickety I chose not to be. For your allegiance is far greater than all the lefts voices in my ears. Yours rings clear
9/11/2001; I will never forget for we are the land of free, because of the brave. Jesus saves!
Ephesians 6:15 Having shod your feet the preparation of the gospel of peace
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 10: plastic
Shred that picture of me locked behind my own imprisonment of self shame, for today I am not the same
A sleeper, a zombie, a ghost, death knocked on my door. For alcohol I so adored. Out for my own kill, just take away my tears with multiples in beers. No cheers, echos in darkness my own voice. My own choice, bled my own soul with no remorse
A stone cold heart, broken bruised. It was of my own choose. I held that tonic in my hand chose to not live in dry land. My most prized possesion. Drink until I heard no sound. My own hands draped in my own nape wanting my last breath
Toss that portrait of me not willing to fall onto my knees, throw it into the deepest of seas. Cast my burdens at the cross for I was so lost. Drowning in my own sewage
For I am no longer that scared little Lisa sitting in a corner dreading to be loved. For God my Father lifted my face, uncovered my veil. Swaddled me in His uncondtional love, drop of the bottle. Spilled my wounds. Covered with His blood
I sit here with snippets of who I was, and whom I am now. For this could not be for an alcoholic such as me without God I am nothing. Nothing, but here I sit the bondage broke me. Brought me to my knees. Keep that picture close at heart. Beautiful art! The bottle no longer drawn to my lips. Just Jesus and His words, unconditonal love and grace. For now I am in seek of Jesus’s face.
Now instead of intoxicated slurred words that once oozed like rapturous venom let from my lips drip Jesus’s word. For I am no longer a sleeper, I slept and wept long enough. Snoozed in booze, and now my soul gets to rest. My veil tossed, for at the cross, are the new snippets of me. How awesome for I am a living testament! Set free!!
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 9: crafty
of, relating to, or characterized by empathy, the psychological identification with the feelings, thoughts, or attitudes of others:
Wound as tight as a clock can’t get my brain to shut up, or stop
Wearing a multitude of hearts on my sleeve no reprieve for I share their tear stained pillows. I cry myself to sleep in the billows of their pain. I feel all of you.
I feel you, and you, and you. You are rot with anxiety, I feel you. You have no beat in your heart, I feel you. You can’t look at your own reflection in the mirror, in want to not vomit at your image. I feel you.
You were abaonded by all whom you thought loved you. I feel you. You gave into your self inflicted pain. I feel you.
You are grief stricken, and heart sick. I feel you, you lost yourself in this life (your wife). I feel you. You are living out of your car with 2 kids, and a dog eating maybe once a day clothes wreak of body odor and mildew. Your kids look at you with disgust, you are a drunk. I feel you.
Your son who has struggled with a heroin addiction since 8th grade, filled that needle one last time found a vein for his sweet realease. He overdosed for the third time, this time his heart could not fight he was pronounced dead upon a cold sterile table while you were away on vacation. The call you received left you breathless. A piano prodigy gone with the prick of a poisoned needle. His bipolar mental state too much for him to endure. So his addiction was his pleasure. The amount of heroin found in him to high for measure. A beautiful man too. I feel you.
Your parents never gave you the time of day, they made you feel small. They never gave you affirmation or love. They had the nerve to call their own child mentally ill. They belittled you until their last breath. They never made effort for amends. They left the world leaving with no mention of you. You long to be adored, to what was always on their own accord. I feel you.
You went to shave your husband in his vegetative state, hoping his eyes just might open. It had been a year since the tragic accident. You had a hard decision to pull the plug. His body gaunt, and not a hint of life. One of the neatest men this life has met. You his wife would go home alone, married to just a silhouette. The time had come to kiss him goodbye. Your body bled you of the tears you cried. I feel you.
You got fired from your job today, and your wife can’t work. Your rent is due tomorrow, and you have no means to pay it. The government assists you, but you still can’t keep afloat. You are running out of life boats. I feel you.
Your dad and mom are alcoholics, and you were lost in translation. You never finshed school, and don’t even know how to drive. Your dad and mom divorced, which for you cried and cried. You don’t know what it means to be man. Your life has not set forth a plan. You were never taught a work ethic. You were forced to grow up much before your time. You don’t want to get too close to anyone at the fear of loss. You show few your pain as you see no purpose. Suck it up, and push through you were always told. No hand to hold. I feel you.
You were asked to drink of a bitter cup, and nailed to a cross. A crown of thornes embedded in your head. People mocked your words, and spat on you. You had nail pierced hands, and feet. No food or drink, lashings until you were beat and your dripped blood slowly stained your body. You bore the sins of world, and died so that those who believe could have life. You hung until your last words “it is finished”. You died upon the cross. I feel you. You gave me breath of life, and then new life. You are my creator. I marvel at your sight. For there is no greater of than the love you give to me. I feel you.
I am wound tight as a clock, and share their tear stained pillows. It is okay, I am getting to understand the empathitist that is me. The empathy that embodies me. I wear each of their shoes for a time to know their pain. Some I have lived first hand. Compassion and grace meet with me daily to converse. I cry for each and every one of them. Pray for each of them. I have wished for its stop, but then I would lack for some of my greatest virtues of all…So the tears they can not stop. There are more to come, so it is time to replace my pillow. I feel you.
God has a retirement plan that is out of this world! I can’t wait to see what awaits me beyond the gates of Heaven.
1 Corinthians 2:9 But, as it is written, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him”