Thoughts from a Child

Perfect black canvas overhead

Splattered with seemingly random pinpricks of white.

Sky-high beams,

Leaves tipped with moonlight.

A wave of utter insignificance washes over the body,

But with it comes peace, assurance, comfort,

Not agony or worry.

For a moment, I seem bigger than the world.

And in a moment, God shows me His awesome might.

With daylight comes mundane routines,

But nightfall brings surprises and a sharpening of the senses.

Why has the Creator given me this way of thinking?

Am I the only one?

Does everyone feel this way?

I'm desperate to know.

Never Again Will I Be Yours Truly

Dear Apathy,

While I appreciate your blatant suppression of my emotions at times, I believe it's time for you to pack up and leave my soul. You've overstayed your visit. Go!

What I thought was a relief from so much turmoil was in actuality a slow and deadly poison, creeping into my heart and mind and closing down every part of me that feels and thinks. I have realized in this process that I would much rather be acutely aware of my emotions and wear them on my sleeve for the world to see than to push everything so far down that I don't even know what Sorrow and Joy mean.

Why did you trick me? That wasn't very nice. You said it was temporary. You promised that you would only come around when it was necessary, and then you would ship right on out. Liar. You plagued my soul for 3 months, not allowing me to feel anything. Oh wait, that's right. You "conveniently" left when you knew the situation I was in would produce negativity in me. What a friend.

Speaking of friends, how did you and Depression like co-inhabiting my heart? You two seem to go hand-in-hand. Well, how about both of ya go hand-in-hand straight back to your master? Not to be rude or anything, but I didn't even invite him to stay here, and he wasn't a cheery guest to have around. In fact, he was downright awful. He sure liked to hang around after those situations aforementioned. Definitely didn't help the issues there.

Tonight, those emotions that you've caged up finally broke free. Regret rushed through me, crashing through the barriers that blinded me to what you were doing. He washed over my face, and my eyes were finally open. Open to your deceit, open to the present, open to what would happen if I allowed you to dominate my life, open to my past mistakes. The awareness sent a shock wave of Sorrow throughout my body. Remember that song that was being sung by a multitude of people while all this was going on inside me? Heaven Song by Phil Wickham. I'm pretty sure you remember it, because when Joy heard those lyrics and the hope that was intertwined in every word, she flowed through every vein in my body and warmed me. For the first time in a long time, I meant what I sang. I felt Peace.

Sure, these emotions may bring tears. They may be unpleasant. They possibly could be even be downright painful. But ya know what, Apathy? I think I can handle that.

Never Again Will I Be Yours Truly,

Olivia

Why Put a Lamp Under a Basket?

I have this stirring in me.

So much pent-up...potential earnest creativity wants to be freed.

I don't know how to release this desire. My hands can't handle it, nor are they skilled to handle this need for expression.

God, what do I do? All I want to do is create, and yet I have not the ability nor the talent to bring forth beauty.

Painting, drawing, sculpting, charcoal, even a simple decor project. I yearn for it, but I let a barrier get in my way.

I'm fearful of creating something ugly and failing at pleasing God with what I make.



I want to write something.

Something about the glory of God, something about how my life is changing, something for my (hopefully) future husband. A poem, a story. Anything.

My fear of sounding like an imbecile stills my hand from putting pen to paper.

My heart bursts with words wanting to be written and read, yet my mind overrules, telling me that whatever I write won't amount to being worthy of anyone's eyes.

Lord, rid me of these inhibitions. Let me bring You glory and honor and praise with all that I do without letting fear chain me down and discourage me.

One step at a time.

Sing My Soul to Me

Rays filter through a transparent canopy,
Casting over the ground emerald and gold hues.
Gray fairies dance carelessly across every surface.

Closed eyes, slight breeze, no commitments.
The hammock is swinging, swinging, swinging....

Perfect day: achieved.

My Favorite Weather

Something is about to happen.

The smell of rain permeates the atmosphere.
The air is tensed, as if awaiting the break.
Humidity thickens, knowing it is about to be washed away.

Something is about to happen.

The hair on the nape of my neck stands on end,
Tingling with the electricity invading the sky.
Clouds are stirring and billowing, anxious to relieve their burdens.

Something is about to happen.

Driving into town, I notice colors fading to muted tones.
It seems as if the world knows that something...
Akin to sadness...is breaching its sheltered happiness.

Something is closing in.

The coming dread is put on hold.
A long-lost companion takes its place,
Placing a smile on my face and in my heart.

Here it comes.

Heading home, the sky falls.
A deluge attacks nature and industry alike.
The atmosphere's spit is slung haphazardly by automobiles.

It is happening.

Though the downpour is meant to dishearten,
I notice sunlight pouring through the sheets.
Such a strange mixture of elements...

It is passing.

As quickly as the assault comes,
So it retreats, moving on to other unaware victims.
What is left is a world saturated with color.

It has ended.

This seemingly nondescript occurrence has a hidden treasure.
Even as despair infiltrates a life, hope always follows.
God's discipline and grace intermingling.

Something has happened.





Perfect song for the day: Mr. Blue Sky-Electric Light Orchestra

Hundred Year Storm

So much to lose, and all we can do now is wait, but don’t be afraid.
The water's still rising, but here we'll be safe from the wind and rain.
All I ask is that you keep holding on,
And please don't forget me just 'cause I'm gone--

Yesterday we had it all.
Be strong and take heart and tell me you'll never let go
All we have left is each other, a promise, and hope.

So far to go, and I know it feels like sometimes we won't last the night.
It's hard to keep smiling, but focus your eyes on fields and skies.
Take my hand and continue pressing on,
And please don't disagree just 'cause I'm wrong--

Yesterday we had it all.
Be strong and take heart and tell me you'll never let go
All we have left is each other, a promise, and hope.

I Choose to be Myself

The door opens and in marches Mr. Bernard, my government teacher.
“Today we will be discussing the controversial issue of abortion,” he immediately announces. Crap. “What are the pros? What are the cons? What are your own personal opinions, and why do you believe what you believe? This is a class discussion and EVERYONE must participate.” Wow, he is really trying to win the Least-liked Teacher Award from me. Why does Mr. Bernard always feel the need to poll the audience, as if he really does care about what we think? Now he’s going down the rows, forcing each student to speak what is on his or her mind. Non-committal grunts are not satisfactory for this teacher. No, he expects a coherent reply from each student. From this, I gather that all my peers are either Democratically-minded or too scared to go against the Democrats. Oh goodness, this doesn’t bode well for me….
“Olivia, let’s hear what you have to say on the subject of abortion.” Oh no, is it really my turn? What should I do? Should I tell everybody my true opinion, what I actually believe? Well, what if I get ridiculed or judged by the teacher and my fellow classmates? Maybe I should just go along with the rest of the class and say pro-choice is the way to go, even though I’m a strong believer in outlawing abortions. My stance has always been and will always be pro-life. Why can’t I just say that in front of all these people? At least I have the freedom to proclaim my own opinion. I won’t be thrown in jail or killed for declaring my beliefs in this nation, something which cannot be said for other countries. I thoroughly appreciate this liberty, so why can’t I exercise it in a simple class discussion? Why am I not more outspoken? Now everyone is staring at me, waiting for my response. My stomach starts to churn, and my palms turn clammy as I grip the edge of the desk while my morality and my timidity war with each other inside.
“Well, Ms. Williams?” demands Mr. Bernard. Just say it. Just be yourself, Olivia.
“Um, well, Mr. Bernard, I believe that abortion should be abolished.” There, I said it. I cannot take back the words now.
“Really? Why do you take this stand?”
“I’ve grown up in church all my life, and the preacher has always taught the congregation that murder in any form, including abortion, is a sin. Add that to being raised around Republicans, and you get me, a firm believer in pro-life.”
“So what you’re saying is that you let others dictate what you believe. What ignorance!” retorts Darrell, the arrogant soccer player slouching smugly in the seat to the right of me.
Glaring at him, I state, “No, I do not. Just because I’m taught something doesn’t mean I blindly believe it. I’ve done research on abortions and have found out that the baby’s heart starts beating after eighteen days and that by the sixth week the brain starts functioning. In my opinion, a beating heart equals a life. Women usually have an abortion six to ten weeks into the pregnancy, so they’re actually killing a living being. Therefore, it’s murder and a sin. Now do you believe I let people control my beliefs, Darrell?”
Darrell just scowls and turns away from me, his bruised pride apparent on his face. Wow, I cannot believe I just disputed with the most popular guy in school and won! I look back at Mr. Bernard and wonder what he thought about my speech. He has a slight grin on his face as he says, “Thank you, Ms. Williams. All right, what about you, Angie?”
I sit in shock for the duration of the class period, astounded by my own courage for standing up for my values. Did I really just assert myself in public? Is this a dream? But no, it cannot be, because the bell shrieks, ending the class. As I lug my backpack through the aisle towards the door, Mr. Bernard pulls me aside.
“I just want to say I’m proud that you said what you said. I’m certain that a few of the kids in here were encouraged by your bravery not to conform to the rest of the class’s viewpoint. Also, don’t ever be afraid to have your own personal opinion. We were given free will for a reason.” He gently pats my arm and turns back to his desk, and I exit the room, dumbfounded, yet filled with a sense of pride for my actions. Yes, I do have free will; yes, I will exercise that freedom; yes, I choose to have my own opinion, and yes, I am proud to proclaim boldly that I will be different if I am called to be.