Haiku: Promise

September 15, 2009

Creativity
You breathe on my life, Father
Your inspiration

Your divine favor
Your heart yields adoration
my life’s in Your hands

You hear my prayers
I feel Your Holy Spirit
brooding over me

Safe in Your solace
I am sheltered from life’s storms
Precious Beloved

You quiet my mind
with whispers of hope and peace
forever with You

Jesus

Advertisements

Haiku: Awaited Solace

September 12, 2009

your words gently weave
a tapestry of passion
threads of purest love

silence surrounds me
except for the clock…ticking
closer to that day

you will hold me close
finally in your embrace
awaited solace 
 
PenelopeWaitingforUlysses by Rudolph vonDeutsch

May I Have This Dance?

August 29, 2009

Today was especially challenging. I woke up lonely. Had it not been for the kids needing breakfast, perhaps I would have spent the day in bed. Not because I was tired, but because my heart was too heavy to get up. How does this happen? I have it all, so it would seem from the outside looking in. I’ve been tremendously blessed… indeed, but I’ve made tremendous misjudgements. As a result, the proverbial bar is raised to a very high standard. As such, sometimes life is a little lonely. It’s okay. Exclusive selection is a process and such a process often takes time.

Time. Precious time.

I peeled myself off the sheets and set about my course for the day, eventually arriving at a yard sale down the street on my way to the Farmer’s Market. There were odds and ends all across the property, large and small for treasure hunters abounding the neighborhood. As I approached the gate to enter the property, my eyes fell upon some framed art displayed along the iron fence. I stopped in stunned amazement. There propped amongst the framed pieces was a print of The Singing Butler by Jack Vettriano — my very favorite piece of modern art in all the world. The original painting is a back view of an elegant lady in a stunningly beautiful long, red dress and contrasting bare feet as she is waltzed on a sandy beach by an equally elegant gentleman dressed in tux and tails. They are being serenaded under cover of an open umbrella by a singing butler. Hence, the title of the piece, I would imagine.

Sight of it literally stopped me in my tracks. I stood there, gaping. This print served as a vivid reminder that I am in Daddy God’s arms. This is His dance. The serenade is that of His choosing. Its timing. Its tempo. Its duration. He has given His angels charge over me. He will not allow my foot to slip. The ocean waves can only come as far as He allows. Being the gentleman that He is, He asked me if He could have this dance. I accepted. I follow His lead.

I am quite confident that the artist did not have my metaphoric ideal in mind when his brush graced the canvas, ultimately gifting us with his beautiful masterpiece. However, art  being subjective and all, I adore the piece, holding precious the imagery it inspires in my heart every time I see it.

I bought the print.

One day, in Daddy God’s perfect timing, He is going to allow me to finally waltz with that beautiful man whom He has purposed for my life. Only He knows for sure when and if that will be. God is perfect, you know, and He will not be rushed. I trust that He knows what’s best for me. I know I am precious in His sight. He is so loving to remind me, in ways that only He can, that I am never alone.

I am my Beloved’s and He is mine.

Vettriano

Choose Happiness

July 23, 2009

ladybug_fingertipWhen a ladybug lands on you, make a wish, make a wish! Then, before blowing it off your skin, say:

“Ladybug, Ladybug….”

The whole concept and morbidity of the rhyme always made me sad for the poor, helpless ladybug. Why would she want to fly to her home if it were on fire? By the time she’d get there, what horror and devastation would she see? And, Dear God, what of her children? In the face of her horrible misfortune how could I dare to breathe a wish for myself?

I’d watch the poor creature crawling around on my skin, hoping that all was truly good and right in her ladybug world.

Ladybugs look happy.polkadorts

Are polka dots not the epitome of all things happy and carefree?

Take in a deep breath of fresh air. In with the good… out with the bad.

I don’t want to just look happy — like a ladybug. I want to be happy.

I choose happiness.

polka_dots

No Fear

July 21, 2009

The most sincere words pour from my heart only to feel searing coals thrust upon my shoulders immediately following the release of them into the atmosphere. Apprehension scorches down my back from not knowing how my words will be received.

Oh, the pain. The pain of unknowing.

I am not responsible for how I am received. I am only responsible for the manner in which I give.

Yet, time has proven over and again that I am my own worst critic, as my words have often been the salve which brings healing to a broken heart, the evasive lyrics to a beautiful melody, the answer to a quandary gnawing at one’s heart and mind. My words, when spoken in kindness, have been the keys unlocking bolted prison doors freeing one from prison walls where others before me have captured and held hostage a loving heart for reasons beyond my knowledge and understanding.

Even so, often, I keep my words locked deep inside… deep down inside… for fear moves me to reconsider my inspiration and I remain paralyzed in the clutches of fear. Fear often moves me to keep my arms reservedly at my sides instead of hugging a soul who needs to feel their battered body and wounded heart wrapped in a compassionate embrace.

God give me the discernment I need from Your heart and mind to move me in the path You have set for me. Move me as You are moved by compassion for the love of Your creation. Help me to understand my fear when it is merely fear and not decorum or propriety but rather, my pride. Help me to know when it is fear that ridicules me as I am indeed good enough, smart enough, rich enough, clever enough and beautiful enough to move at Your Word.

I am Your Beloved and You are mine. I have nothing to fear.

Sweet-Serenity-Print-C10376167

Possibilities

July 16, 2009

3641175070_6c290acdccThe familiar klink of stainless steel being lifted off its hook —  the beginnings of a favorite kitchen symphony. Will it be dinner? Will it be tea? Will it be for colored eggs or sterility?

Tap water fills the pot, clear and deep. Silver pot placed carefully on the stove for the umpteen thousandth time. Pot sets quietly as the flame burns beneath its base.

What is it for? Possibilities are endless. Boiling water… it can be the beginning of just about anything.DSCF1435

Cook has done her part. Flames of fire take over in this familiar routine. Slowly and steadily its cadance begins, clicking and popping in response to the flame.

Tiny air bubbles form inside the pot — silent effervescence — growing in number.
Bubbles rise one by one to the water’s surface. Delicate vapor ascends and falls beneath the task light spot. The crescendo builds to a rapid boil. Rolling thunder!

Boiling water… endless possibilities.

danzeopulencepotfiller

The Romantic

July 15, 2009

single-rose

Romance is in the life we live
with every breath we take
within our every movement
with the ticking of the clock
in the little clinks and tinkles
coming from inside a home
pouring out of windows for
those with ears to hear

jingling of daddy’s keys
as he returns home from work
my darling sweet

mommy’s heels
walking across a wooden floor
my honey’s feet

as dinner sizzles on the stove
sloshing of a washing machine
the fine pages of a Bible being turned in a parlor
sheets ruffling early in the morning
a clicking switch of a lamp at the end of the day

Romance is woven throughout the fabric of life
beheld only by Romantics

One is a Romantic
or one is not

Romantics do not choose to be born as such
like one does not choose eye color
or stature
hair texture
or parents

Romantics have been dipped low
and held tightly to the bosom of God Himself
He kissed slowly and deeply on the mouth
the passionate Romantic before loosing
that one into the world
having left His sweetness on the lips
his stars of wonder in the eyes
his wings of hope upon the feet
and song of love in the heart
of the Romantic

He opened the ears
of the Romantic
to understand the language of love and life

He gave strong arms
to the Romantic
to bear and embrace the wildly mixed load
of burden and blessings
along life’s way

He inspired curiosity
in the Romantic
to seek out answers and beauty
to crack codes of hidden mysteries
where others see only quandry and rhetoric

He gave the Romantic
a bubbling fountain for a soul
to give abundantly to others
according to His purpose
which He doesn’t always disclose

Romantics give all they have
over and again
because the more they give
the more they flourish
drawing from the very heart of God

Being a Romantic
is not always wine and roses
it is a tremendous burden of proof
finding a way
when there seems to be no way

As the Romantic draws closer to God
the more loving and creative a Romantic becomes
for the sake of someone else

Romance is never self serving

My Beloved is the ultimate Romantic
Faithful and True
showing His love anew
with every sunrise and sunset
in every twinkle of smiling eyes
each warm embrace
every single hue of color
every single musical note
every whispering willow
every roaring thunder

My Beloved has not neglected any sorrow
He has saved every tear drop
His promises make perfect
the sweetest wine
to be enjoyed in this waking life
and for certain
in eternity with Him

wineglassonbarrell

Late in the night, I could not find comfort. I tossed and turned, rest was no where to be found. Speak to me, Father. I need your words tonight.

He said,  

Psalm 42:8

Yet the LORD will command his lovingkindness in the day time, and in the night his song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the God of my life.   “What is your song?” I asked. And, I slept pondering that question.

When I awoke and sought His face again, asking the same question, He breathed… 

Song of Solomon 3

 1By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.
 2I will rise now, and go about the city in the streets, and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.
 3The watchmen that go about the city found me: to whom I said, Saw ye him whom my soul loveth?
 4It was but a little that I passed from them, but I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him, and would not let him go, until I had brought him into my mother’s house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me.
 5I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.
 6Who is this that cometh out of the wilderness like pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all powders of the merchant?
 7Behold his bed, which is Solomon’s; threescore valiant men are about it, of the valiant of Israel.
 8They all hold swords, being expert in war: every man hath his sword upon his thigh because of fear in the night.
 9King Solomon made himself a chariot of the wood of Lebanon.
 10He made the pillars thereof of silver, the bottom thereof of gold, the covering of it of purple, the midst thereof being paved with love, for the daughters of Jerusalem.  11Go forth, O ye daughters of Zion, and behold king Solomon with the crown wherewith his mother crowned him in the day of his espousals, and in the day of the gladness of his heart.

Paved with love… Father, my Beloved, whose love is like Your love?

John 13:1

 1Now before the feast of the passover, when Jesus knew that his hour was come that he should depart out of this world unto the Father, having loved his own which were in the world, he loved them unto the end.

Ephesians 5:2

And walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us, and hath given himself for us an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweetsmelling savour.

John 13:34

A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.

I love you, my precious Jesus. Your love is endless.  Your song shall be with me all the days of my life.

love piano keys

The Dance

February 14, 2009

The Singing Butler - Vettriano
As life’s dance begins
You offer Your hand
I take it

thesingingbutler1-2

In Your arms
I feel secure
Confident
Elegant
Beautiful

Waltzers II

You are perfect
Your grace is unmatched
Your lead is flawless

thesingingbutler2-1

You give Your angels
charge over me 

thesingingbutler3-1

You will not allow
my foot to slip

Order my steps, Beloved
by the power of Your blood
according to Your word
for Your name’s sake

I am Your bride

Dance Me to the End of Love Jack Vettriano

Dance me to the end of Your love

You are faithful
Your love is eternal
Your promise of forever is true

Rings