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!
Indaba Coffee Roasters is known locally for the best coffee in town. The shots are perfect, and the barista’s are artsy. Whether you get a heart, leaf, or something else neat. All their drinks are named after our streets. This is the Nettleton…Delicious
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
Me being a little goofy, trying to catch my breath in the realization of my breasts with absolutely no feeling of sensation, and pain and nerves that strike like lightening. These are things I am trying to accept yet!
Memories of playing my 45’s, with a brush in hand in front of the mirror singing my heart out! I loved Olivia!! She was, and is a beautiful woman. She has an amazing voice. I played her records over and over in my room as a very young girl daily! I’m sure I drove my mom crazy 😜
Written for Citysonnet Photo A Day: September 23: vintage
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
Classic, what woman hasn’t been here? No matter how defensive a driver or good she might be. There will always be the skeptics who aren’t afraid to share how they feel.
