There was a lone man, walking slowly down the road.  His was the walk of someone who didn’t exactly know where he was going, nor was he in a hurry to get there.  I had to admire his easy gate and his relaxed posture.  Ah, I thought, there’s a man without a care in the world.  He’s content and happy, and I envy him.

But as I came even with him, I saw the look on his face.  His chin was dipped down, his cheeks were damp, and in his eyes was the look of a thousand sorrows.  Ah, I thought, there’s a man with too many cares for this world.  He’s sad and lonely, and I don’t envy him.

But then the man looked up at me.  His chin lifted.  His eyes softened and he smiled, gently.  Slowly, he held out a single red rose he’d been clutching.  The thorns had pricked his hands, but the rose was perfect.  I took it in my hand, overcome by the change of expression in the man’s face.  The smile he shared reached his eyes and shone from his soul.  I thought, there’s a man whose learned so much from the cares in this world.  He’s at peace and reaching out to others, though pain is ever present inside himself.  I envy him.

Where do you run…when you’re all but spent?

What do you do when your friends just can’t understand?

Where do you hide when life pounds too loud?

What do you do when you’ve given everything you have…and it might not be enough?

—-

Run to Jesus

Run into His arms

Nestle deep in His precious love

Hide for awhile

—-

Running,

Running to Jesus

Throwing myself into His open arms

—-

But pardon me

If I sound a bit human

Sometimes, sometimes…

I just want someone with skin

—-

New thought

Jesus has skin

Yes, He does

He understands

He was here

And now He’s there

Talking to God for me

Precious thoughts

Jesus has skin

Yes, Jesus has skin

She was running, stumbling over the rocky ground.  Her dress hem caught and she grabbed it with one of her rough hands.  With her other, she brushed her loose hair back off her tear stained face.  Her blinded eyes could not see the way, and she elbowed her eyes; her tears stained the sleeve of her dress.  And she was running again, running, running.  And then, there it was, the little pathway bordered by field rocks.  There was the wooden door, slightly ajar in the little cabin.  The warm glow of lamplight shone from inside.  And she ran, her slippered feet padding quickly down the pathway.  She was at the doorway, and He was there.  Big, oh so big, and strong, so strong.  His gentle hands gathered her in his embrace.  “My daughter, my precious daughter.”  He whispered, his voice deep and husky.  And she let the tears come, content even in her distress.  She felt safe, protected, and cared for.  She’d fallen down, and come running home.

Dancing on the clouds

Thousands and thousands of them

Raising my arms high

Twirling with freedom

Spinning with abandon

–

Beauty

for

Ashes?

–

Will it ever come?

Is joy for me?

Is hope for real?

Do I dare?

–

“Hide!” I hear them scream

Those voices of caution and fear

“Run!” I hear them cry out

They overwhelm

–

But up ahead…

Is that light I see?

Or is it a mirage?

Is it hope?

Or is it desolation?

–

Ah, yes, I must find out.

I must, oh, I must.

Just possibly…

–

Sweet laughter

Calmness

Peace

Yes, I have dared to hope again.

–

How strange

How odd

What a new feeling

But will it betray?

–

Time can only tell…yes, time can only tell.

She stared at the broken seashell.  Where there had been a shiny, glittering surface before now ran a jagged crack, rough and ugly.  Gently she picked up the broken shell…turning it over and over in her hand.  That’s when she saw it…her breath caught deep in her throat.  The true beauty of the shell was found from within; it glowed with a shiny opalescent hue, shimmering under the light from the sun.  Without the awful crack, she never would have seen it.  Pain and breaking had a purpose.

Looking up, she felt the weight of everything settling down on her.  The night breeze did nothing to ease the crushing heaviness.  She tried to take a deep breath, but her chest felt tight…as if in a vise, slowly, slowly drawing tighter.  And, a tear slipped from her eye, slid down her cheek, and dropped silently to the dusty ground.

“It’s to much.” Her voice was a whisper…the merest of whispers.

For just a moment, she gave up.  Sinking down on the ground, she let everything crash around her feet.   The rainclouds of her soul burst and flooded her heart.  The tears came and her shoulders shook.

“I can’t be brave anymore.”  Her voice cracked and broke…the sound of heartache.

She tried to gather herself together.  No one would ever see her like this.  No one would know she had given up.  No one would know…no, not a single soul.

And when God saw fit to release her from all this, then she would praise Him.   And, if it was possible…if she found a way…she would praise Him now.  Yes, even now…for He was God.

Looking at my reflection

The water wavers and ripples

Bubbles break the surface

But my reflection stays

–

But it’s not me

Who am I

I don’t look like that

Do I

Have a changed beyond recognizing myself

–

It’s in my eyes

Yes, there’s a difference there

Something from deep within

Something has changed

No, something is changing

–

Changing for the better?

I hope

But right now

I don’t recognize myself

My reflection shows back disguised

I don’t know who I am

She paced back in forth, back in forth…the iron bars standing between her and freedom.  They were cold, solid, and invincible.  Back and forth, the little dog patted.  She paused, glanced out at the world with eyes of longing, and then went back to her pacing.  She’d been served breakfast…there it sat in her bowl, untouched.  She’d been given a blanket, soft and fluffy.  It lay crumpled in the corner of her cage…unused.  She was small, small enough that she could have been content with her cage…it was plenty big enough.  But the little dog was pacing…in fact she’d been pacing for days.  She wanted out.  Needed out.  She wanted to be free.

I try to be brave

When I hear them tell college dreams

When their enthusiasm spills over and they say

“Ain’t life perfect?”

–

I try to be brave

When I hear them tell of God’s goodness

When they think they understand it all and they say

“Ain’t you gonna trust God?”

–

I try to be brave

When I hear one more “no”

When the rejection crashes up against the wall I’ve built and they say

“Sorry, we can’t use you.”

–

I try to be brave

But in the rain,

In my bed,

In the car,

When I’m alone

The tears fall,

The floodgates break,

The stormclouds surface

“Man, this hurts!”

To fly high and free…to climb to the highest heights and watch the world go by, that was her goal. Truly it was. She didn’t care that there was no one with her. She didn’t care that the mountain goats and little rock creatures laughed at her. She didn’t even care that the rocks and scraggly mountain trees scorned her. Contentment in pursuing her goal…to reach the top of that mountain, was all she cared about.

–

Then one morning partway up the mountain, her contentment was shaken. Clouds had closed in and the air had been so moist, she was damp minutes after. And with the clouds all about her and the dreadful dampness and haunting obscurity surrounding her, she began to wonder. Was there a mountain peak after all? What if all this work had been for nothing? What if when she completed this hard uphill climb, there was no mountaintop to stand tall on?

–

She paused, sinking down on one of the scornful rocks. She cupped her chin in her palms, trying to think and reason, but the thick fog around her seemed to have clouded her mind. She couldn’t make sense of it all.

–

Then out of the fog, like a ghost emerging from the graveyard, a figure approached. Any other time she would have recognized him, but now in this darkness, he looked like a stranger. She began to tremble as he came nearer.

–

“Who are you.”

–

“I’m the one who brought this fog.”

–

“This fog that has caused me so much trouble?”

–

“Yes.”

–

“Why?”

–

The man just shook his head, gently took her hand and pulled her to her feet. Together, they both started to pick their way through the fog together back up the mountain.