An elderly man went to his barber twice a week. The barber said to him, ”sir you hardly have any hair to cut for as often as you come in ”. The elderly man exclaimed, “this is the only time I get any kind of human touch”.
Be kind, be gentle, love hard, and live & love everyday like it’s your last. God gave us one life, and we never know when it is over….
Written for the Word of the Day challenge: pristine
Porcelain doll, so dainty and fair. How long have you been sitting in there?
High upon the top shelf of the lit curio cabinet, I see you are scatched and dirty
You are definitely a sight Amoungst the reburished dolls, they are so pretty. Gleaning white. I bet you were just as them at one time, a doll makers delight
Your eye sits out of socket, you’re a little twisted in your posture. Not beyond repair, I see you sitting you are not beyond my stare
Porcelain doll, so dainty and fair. How long have you been in sitting there?
I imagine with all the dust fallen in your hair, it has been awhile. Your not groomed or styled like the rest
I bet you are one that holds much value, and history too. I can see my hands taking great pride in you. A new stiched outfit, your hair with a soft curl around your little face
I will buff you, and shine you back to your prime, and put you back in place. Antique, you are. Priceless, I as a doll collector I see your value. I look pass the grease smudges on your face. I see you white as snow in its place
When my hands are finished with the making of you new I will place you back upon the top shelf. You will no longer lean on the one sitting next to you. You will stand with elegance. Every eye transfixed to the top shelf, where you are no longer tarnished
Porcelain doll so dainty and fair, look at her skin glowing white, almost translucent. She is near perfect. Her cheeks soft pink with matching lips too. I wonder who takes claim, who’s hands does this doll belong too? Famous hands I trust with the look of that of a near perfect touch
Pristine his hands, and face gleam at the new work His eyes see
White as snow, white as snow, thought my sins were as scarlet, Lord I know, Lord I know, that I’m clean and forgiven. Through the power of Your blood, through the wonder of Your love, through faith in you I know that I can be white as snow. ~Maranotha Music
being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion
Photo Credit me; I have always thought I looked like a doll in this picture. I am poised in a doll like fashion. My head tilted just right, and my face dolly like. My skin fair, and face with a hint of pink. Likened to a doll, how neat. I bask at the change in me from my makers hands. This is not what my portrait would have resembled a few years back. I neeeded reassmbled. For my maker to make me clean, and place in back in my rightful place. He did that indeed!!
My hand used to be heavy with a makeshift flask, whatever I could do to get my hands on my poison to then drink it deep within my skin. Absorbed until it wore off. The first sense of any sensationalism I would repeat. Oh how neat my life seemed, inside screams of hallow cries for help then gulp. No more. I was fine again like a broken record I still played. So I drank as long as the needle still dropped, and I couldn’t hear the screech once I poured. Alcohol I adored
A tattered water bottle always in hand thinking I was fooling you, fooling me what was red and looked like Gatorade was really wine. Oh and I was fine, just fine
My hand was always heavy with a makeshift flask I drank so heavily I was deaf and driven by the rage I felt so deep, shaky hands and blood scorned breath
A broken bottle opened upon the sidewalk’s edge drinking the moisture from the bottle just enough to get my taste buds aroused, then I would drink it fast and hard. Enough to make me blind, deaf, and dumb~NUMB
Misery lurked inside that makeshift flask, but I just couldn’t feel enough your asks. I didn’t care to be your friend, nothing could compete with my plastic flask. I buried all my secrets with each sip, camouflage with what resembled rage
The air around me was a cage, I was shackled to my own incomprehensible demoralization. Lost in my blood stained sin, progressive it was always rage again. Crazy was the game, and I was always ready to play
Today I don’t carry that makeshift flask. I surrendered, and was set free. My Lord Jesus rescued me. The cage was opened, and out came the fragmented pages of me. I realized my powerless over that toxic drink. I couldn’t drink just one, and 100 was never enough. I couldn’t, He can, and I knew I needed to let Him. Jesus took me in, even though I spat all over Him. He is that gracious, and good
I surrender myself to this beautiful life of sobriety one day at a time. Knowing I have to do whatever is suggested of me. The air around me has changed, my five senses are clear set afire. I see the most beautiful things I used to take for granted. I see the most vibrant of colors, and smell. No more self made hell
There isn’t enough as of today to get me to wish to go back the other way. My life is beautiful, and I love being able to feel. I don’t have to hide my makeshift flask. Traded it for the hope I carry proudly for all to see. No more hiding for me. I am alive, and I am soaring high on eagles wings shackles fell beneath me long ago
God did for me what I couldn’t do for myself. I will always share my experience, strength, and hope! My life is dope, and not the kind you shoot into you veins. It’s dope with the gift of sobriety, and the miracle of life that sits here writing this today! God reached in, and shook me to my core. Spiritually ill no more! I today am not that alcoholic horror
Free of my makeshift flask heavy in hand. My feet are on dry land, soil wet with seeds to be turned with the tools I need to keep me from having to pick up that next drink. All contingent on my spiritual house. God Has my will and life today, this disease is progressive so my prayer is for this I stay
So I figured it was time to share my heart. I haven’t had anything to write for quite sometime now. I had my 4th Breast Cancer Surgery 6 weeks ago. I didn’t even feel like sharing this with all of you. This was 4 very big surgeries in a year and half. I am tired, yet grateful. I am empty, yet full. I am just focusing on getting through the days, and trying hard to keep it simple.
I imagine I don’t really make sense. I have been posting photography so my blog does not become stagnant. I will be turning 48 in 2 months, and my body is having such a hard time bouncing back after this last surgery. I am not depressed, I am just tired. I am so grateful I did not have to have Chemotherapy, or Radiation. A double mastectomy was enough to mess with my already complex brain. Acceptance with my new body parts took me a year and a half. It was after this last surgery I finally found acceptance. I know without a doubt as much as I did not want to endure another surgery it was God’s will for this to happen. I am finally at peace with looking in the mirror, where I was horrified to look at myself before this last surgery. The mystery of God’s will never ceases to amaze me.
He knew what I needed, and what it would take for acceptance. I was in prayer, and literally on my knees begging God for this for so long. I wasn’t sure if it would come. I trusted He had a plan, and patience was crucial to my survival. As well working my recovery daily, because half measures I know avail me nothing. So I have stayed very vigilant in prayer, and my daily conscious contact with my very loving God.
So here I am tired, and not a single desire to write. I just figured I would share (it was about time). I always know God has his best no matter what. I had a flat tire, and He fixed it. Praise God! My life with my husband is feeling more like “us”, and I am feeling more like “Lisa”. All glory to God. Hopefully I will write again sooner than later. Blessings WP friends, God is so faithful this I know!