The Gift of Pain!

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The aftertaste of sorrow lingers. Still existent but no longer all consumed by its grip I manage to gasp for breath. Moments at a time, life begins its return. Coffee with a friend, here. Date with my husband, there. An unforced smile manages to break through on occasion. The thickness of grief prevented it before. But Light has broken and darkness is not so black as it was. Deep gashes and slashes in the soul begin to merge together again. Because this place is not foreign to me, I have confidence that time will heal. First one step, then another, each stronger than the one before. Though a sense of “why” may never be made, purpose will be found.  He promises it. I trust. It’s faint, but there. This pain will be a gift.

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When Surrender leads to Victory!

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 Matthew 26:39 “Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”

More times than I can count, I have asked God to “take this cup from me.” Change my path, decrease my burden, ease my suffering. No rest for the weary as the saying goes.

I find solace in the fact that, even Jesus, bowed before His father and begged him, not once, or even twice, but three times, to change the plan, redirect the path he was to tread. (Matt 26:44 “So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing.”)

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Actions don’t Always Reflect the Heart

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DAY 4 (Read Day 1 “OK, Honey. Challenge Accepted!” Post)

Claws extend
a swing and your hit
daggers launched by tongue
declaring words painful as boulders
crushing, weighing on you
denial of inner-reflection because
it’s easier to spew accusations instead

They push away
they run away
hate spills, eyes spray fire
you, their target but aim
at their own reflection
they scream, yell, not at you
at the anguish inside
cold shoulder says leave
tormented heart begs you stay
wounds, scars, insecurities
need love unconditional proven

It seems a fight they seek
or even an end, but unspoken
is the plea to prove
they are worth fighting for
justifying behavior if you give up

I identify with attacker and prey
burdensome is both giving and accepting fervor

Battle ready
They boast lies
hold on to Truth
they want out
dig in your heels
they rage
hear only the still small voice
love so deep, when they shred you
your roots remain grounded
when ready
love will be reciprocated

Until then, fight

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The benefit of depression!

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I turn my back from the sun, and slap the snooze…again. Thoughts form, “just get up and move.”  Limbs proceed to upright position; feet dangle a few inches from the floor.  “So close, but yet…forget it.” My head drops back against the pillow, down feathers envelope and cradle me.  I am incapable to motivate myself for another day. Instead my blanket of dull and dreary, I find safe and most content.

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Spread the burden, share the pain!

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images60XAAZJJStartled by the ring tone of dogs barking, signaling a text message on my phone, I quickly sat up from a deep sleep.  After trying to rub away the blurriness of my weary eyes, I managed to finally focus on the late night hour.  Immediately I knew something was wrong.  I read the text which confirmed my gut reaction.  A dear friend was asking for prayer for her sick and physically frail husband.

I wasn’t surprised by the message of her text, nor was I inconvenienced by the late hour at which the request came.  After all, missing an hour of sleep to pray was effortless compared to the countless hours they had spent battling at hospitals or treatment centers. This “spiritual giant” of a man has been an integral part of my own spiritual development, so of course I would respond to the request with great awareness and tearful pleas to heal him.  As I was praying, asking for the same healing, the same miraculous intervention as I had many times before, it hit me…

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