Sunday, May 31, 2015

Rude, Raw, Received - We Have a Personal Lord and Have Walked Our Own Path

Someone who loves me spoke words to me that hurt. She seemed rude. Her words felt like a slight, but the person said she meant it from a positive place through their experience and journey.

We are chiseled in life etch by etch until will shine with light

For her words matched her walk and experience and seemed a universal truth. But when one is a daughter of the King she must know first that God alone is the voice that must be obeyed and honored. Advice that seems good for all may not be in proper timing for each. I know that I myself make this error many times, more times than I will probably ever know. With God we have our own personal path, when surrendered we are letting him complete us in His own timing. It is easy to judge from the outward appearance but God sees the inward and deals on levels that are unseen usually to the observer.

Comments made cut to the core,
Often hit truth and carve us raw,
Exposing what we know-- but are not
Ready to receive, the timings wrong.

Words perceived as rude,
Are they spoken in love,
When a person does not know,
The experience of another.

Still we must learn to love
Just receive from her heart
Does that means-- it's good for us?
No hurt, no pain or meanness.

We must each be sensitive
To God, speaking in the Spirit
And with His filter and timing,
Not Him - We must live surrendered.

Each to HIS Lordship
In our own life and path.
In grace, reduce words spoken
In His sieve, receiving His Words.

Alone. Knowing His voice
Is really what matters,
His opinion and whisper
Spoken to our soul - perfection.

He alone knows us, our path
Our heart, Our need, Our focus,
He is Lord, personally
And timing is everything.

The healing of the inner soul,
May manifest and be necessary
Before the Physical and some may
View, even Judge, but not know.

Because He alone knows everything.
So rest little Child of God, Listen
To His Words, His direction, His Love
For we all, serve an audience of ONE.

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Stab, Pierce, Bleed, Heal - Words that Hurt

Words can stab

Words can pierce

Make us bleed

Not ready to receive

Not spoken by the King

Out of timing-- they seem mean.

photo credit: written in blood by star95 deviantart

Drip, drip, stab--pierce--bleed

Therefore, when words hurt,

We must forgive the one

Who has spoken and

Filter as received, covered

In grace by His blood.

Drip, drip, stab--pierce--bleed

Well-meaners, do-gooders,

Advice, without knowing

That embraced acceptance

Is always needed first.

Love proceeds instruction.

Drip, drip, stab--pierce--bleed
Too soon, unready to receive.
Dig deep to forgive,
Photo Credit: Elyra Coacalia Deviantart
Cover in grace,
Filter in love,
Please the King,
An audience of One,
Surrender alone to His lead.
He will never cause you to bleed,
But lead you to heal - In His timing.

Drip, drip, stab--pierce--bleed
You didn't know my need.
You didn't live
Through my life.
Oblivious -
Out of sight--
Two paths converge on one--
Intersect -yet left undone--
Moving different directions--
Not following the same King.

Drip, drip, stab--pierce--bleed
Where does pain lead?
She did not mean,
Yet, she did.
So easily
Forgiveness, washed away.
Bathed--healed by His blood,
Filled up, overflowing Love.
Cheek turning, who will slap next?

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Don't Judge Me - You Do Not Know Me

Don't Judge Me,
You only see,

photo credit - zeldabeast "innocence" DeviantArt

God's eye view,
He sees as few,

I am seen,
Naked and clean,

I must do
Return to you

Forgive, filter

All is used
In grace, transfused.

Offering You
A living sacrifice
To my King.

Monday, May 4, 2015

I Am Coming Unglued - Survivor of Childhood Abuse and Trauma

I was experiencing a trauma trigger. Writing this poem centered me and calmed down my emotions. It is odd but it is what flowed. I do not apologize or analyze because it is real. Poetry coming from trauma is healing; don't look to critically; simple gaze upon like you would abstract art hanging upon a wall.


I sense I am coming unglued.

Drip, drip, snip, snip

Like a rag doll, stitches removed,

Pecked away by a raven or crow.

It's okay it doesn't know.

Carelessly, unaware,

It's a bird: it does not care.

Hear the water hit the pan,

Irritating is the sound,

Slowly dripping to the ground.

Tin, tapping, repeat, repeat.

A dripping faucet, I have a leak.

Sadness seeps out of my core.

Superglue-- it holds no more.

Glasses broken, my dress is tore.

How many times did she survive the war?

Battles her both day and night?

Still she hangs on in the fight.

Warrior, so others claim.

Don't get close or you'll get burned.

Hot explosion, she does not warn.

She does not know; she's just forlorn.

Is she me and Am I her?

Maiden fair or ugly bear?

No one listens; cannot hear.

She speaks a language that's not clear.

Only hurting others know

And they can't help, on the same show.

See the spectacle she makes of her life.

Quietly, walking by, out of sight.

Glare through windows, do not stare.

Might interrupt that you care.

Yes, she's crazy, God, she knows.

Still she's someone that God grows.

What's His reason, each breath He gives,

Doesn't He know it helps her live?

Mercy, mercy, I give up.

Suffering has filled my cup.

Sip it if you want to try.

Don't pretend, and live a lie.

Target practice starts at ten.

She's the target, watch her spin.

We'll have fun, it's just for sport.

Life is simple, without a heart.

Watch her bleed, tears in her eye

Better yet, let's hear her cry.

Too late, sorry, it's not enough.

We are late for other stuff.