my words.

Christs Work. Christs Work. And His promises.
HIS love.
the precious gift of those 4 beautiful children.
Your weakness makes HIM stronger.
You will be mature and complete not lacking anything
you are serving the Lord through this terrible time by turning your eyes to Him
and showing glory to Him.
The pain is real.
HIS love is great enough.
HE won't give you more than you can handle.
He will carry you.
Breathe.
Big sigh.
Christ Works.
And know I am praying.

i am not a poet.

a constant flurry of mind wandering chaos.

and utter avoidance.

surrounded my mess and obstacles of my own making, both literal and figurative.

i sit and listen to quiet.

and noise.

but a repetitive drumming of sound.

and it isn't noise.

but the utter avoidance, of all that i need to do.

and the things that i won't.

although i am seated and still, my mind is dancing a terrible jig.

and i cannot dance.

as i sit and search my heart.

and wonder what i am afraid of, and why i am choosing avoidance.

confusion tops the list of everything.

but peace is found in the knowledge of knowing.

i am loved.

who-ville.

there is this tree outside my door

it seems to grow from a core

that can't contain its simply glee

to maybe try and reach the sea.

but for now it grows so high

and spreads it branches to the side

and i can only stand and ponder

as to who Creates such wonder.

the title "who-ville" is in honor of Dr. Seus.  the tree reminds me of something i would find in a Dr. Seus world, hence the rhyming poem that follows.

the empty bench

i can't help but wonder, who should be sitting here. 

watching the ocean waves crash against the rocks.

i can't help but think of who has sat here.  

someone alone pondering life?  

couples sharing moments, families enjoying the colors?

i can't help but be scared.  

this empty bench makes life seem so real.

all the life that could be sitting on the bench.

and life that could be empty.

gone.

bare against the beautiful.

but with the most Beauty.

but here we may be alone.  

left alone.

to come back to an empty bench.

until we all will crowd on it together.