Beautiful photograph found on Pinterest. Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original photographer. Thank You~
Sleeping with the Enemy
Let me begin by saying that I am arachnophobic. Always have been, always will be. I’m that person that goes into an unparalleled fit of screaming, shaking, and running in the opposite direction whenever those creepy-crawly eight legged monsters are around. I’m the person who wakes up in the middle of the night and strips her bed to the bare bones to make sure there isn’t one or millions of those hairy, spindly, multi-legged freaks somewhere amongst the covers. Or under the bed. Or on any of the coordinating furniture. Or lying in wait on the drapes until I go back to sleep, so it can then descend on me in the darkness of night to send me into the aforementioned paroxysm. I’m also the person who once had to single-handedly dispatch a gargantuan, tarantula sized, octoplet-limbed creature of terror who had taken up residence in my bathtub!!! (insert frenzied shrieking here!)
Fast forward now, from that ghastly day, to this morning where you will find me (hypothetically speaking) lying in my bed, dreaming sweet dreams without care; dozing the morning away because it’s finally a Saturday and I don’t HAVE to get up early. (and the congregation shouts AMEN!) I wake up, lazily search for the clock, realize it’s not even 8 AM, smile triumphantly, roll over and promptly resume my reverie. My mind drifts aimlessly through wisps of dreams still clinging to my memory; lingers over musings of hazy imaginings and teeters on the pinnacle between conscious thought and transcendental hyperbole.…until, at last, I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling… you know the sensation…trying to remember what planet I’m on.
My thoughts shift from mystical to rational, (darn it!) I begin to strategically plan out my day, workout and the subsequent primping and preening that follows, breakfast, errands, financial concerns, laundry…yeck! Oh To sleep, perchance to dream! (sorry, snuck some Shakespeare in there on ya!) But this fair thought, now ended; I must rouse myself to the full and stumble on…( that part’s not Shakespeare, that’s me being “poetic”. Shakespeare always merits Italics) So, up I get and up gets the cat (his name is Little Orange Pooz, but that’s yet another post). I turn to make up the bed and then I SEE IT! A black, fuzzy, eight-legged beastie fully the size of a quarter (OR for my British friends, a one pound coin) sitting on my curtain just above my pillow !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Typically, this is the instant where the heebie-jeebies take over, the moment when rationale goes out the window and an inescapable spasm of insanity runs riot over me. I stare in dismay, but to my utter bewilderment and astonishment, I neither freak nor flee. Rather, although I have no comprehension of why, I stand there, LEAN CLOSER, and gaze at this little furry monster more intently. I can see he’s not moving; he’s almost curled up, and for half of a fleeting second I almost smile!!! He’s sleeping! Is he dreaming? What does a spider dream about, I wonder paradoxically. Does he dream about dropping down from the ceiling in the middle of the night onto unsuspecting, sleeping young women to send them into riotous fits of irrational fear all for the sheer hilarity of it?
Who cares!!!! I shake myself…it’s a spider!!! In any other situation, I would instantaneously grab the nearest shoe and start screechin’ n’ swingin’! But, instead, I find myself walking calmly (albeit briskly) to the laundry cupboard, retrieving a duster (a long handled one to be sure!), and returning to the scene of the crime to patiently coax this denizen of hideousness onto the fluffy fibers of his waiting conveyance so I can carry him (once again, at a BRISK pace) to the door and deposit him on the first green growing thing I can find.
Ok….what’s the deal? How can this be? What alternate reality did I wake to this morning that would find me inquisitively regarding and then effectively sparing the life of my lifelong nemesis and archenemy? Is there some lucid explanation for this, otherwise, inexplicable deviation from the norm? I spend the next several hours musing over the possibilities. It could be simply that I hadn’t yet had a sufficient intake of caffeine, was still half asleep and not thinking clearly. Or it could be, perhaps, that I was so surprised I didn’t have time to think about it, really, completely. Or my body could have been taken over by aliens in the middle of the night and I was under some form of extra-terrestrial manipulation!
No, I guess not.
I guess the most likely, if least appealing, explanation is that I’ve changed somehow, in some way as yet not quite realized, or at least not quite realized until this morning, and I’m left to wonder… Is it possible that change isn’t as tedious and complicated as we always think it will be? Perhaps, every now and then, change comes quietly, when we least expect it, like a furry, not so little, spider tiptoeing into our room without us even noticing it. Curling up beside us while we’re not paying attention, it lies, waiting to be discovered and, ultimately, it transforms us into someone we barely guessed we could be.
I don’t talk politics publicly. It’s one of those unspoken unspeakable rules…one of the three things you never talk about socially…but every now and then you have to speak your conscience, don’t you?
“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil was that good men should do nothing.”- Edmund Burke
I agree. I also think you can easily add ‘to remain silent’. If someone was being beaten and you stood by and neither said nor did anything to stop them, you would be as guilty as the aggressor, wouldn’t you? It’s within the nature of human beings to respond, to react; at least, I still have hope that it is, but I can certainly understand why so many look at the world today and shake their heads with despair. I do.
We are all unique and have different strengths and individual natures. My nature, as many of yours, leans very strongly toward empathy and compassion. When a child cries, I immediately need to know if they are all right. When someone is hungry, I want to give them something to eat. When an animal is mistreated, my entire spirit weeps in agony. There are So Many Innocent victims who suffer in silence because they can do nothing else.
But surely we can, can’t we? I know we are surrounded by violence and hatred and despicable acts I can barely comprehend, but are we not also surrounded by people of a similar nature and spirit as our own? Are there not just as many longing for some good in this world as there are those who are aggressors and violators? Where does it end? If we want Peace, do we not need to become Peace? If we long for Love, should we not first Love?
I say all this as a preface because what I really mean to say is that I look at our government and feel such anger. I watch their inaction in monumental proportion and rage against the cold machinery of it all. I listen to each side trying to prop up their greed and dishonesty with even greater deceptions and avarice while I long for just one good person to stop doing Nothing.
What would it take for ‘one representative of the people’ to say “I refuse to let this continue.”
What might it mean for one to say, ‘If hundreds of thousands of Americans are not being paid because we cannot find a way to practice democracy and come to a compromise, than neither shall I take pay.”
How much good could it possibly do if we stood together as a community, rallying round each other in support of one another, rather than finding offense in everything someone may or may not say or do; rather than faulting them for perceived wrongs or disagreeing with them simply for the sake of feeling stronger, more powerful, bigger?
AH Utopia. The Dream within the Dream.
Or is it a dream? Why must it be only a dream? Why can’t it be more? Why, in this hour of chaos and calamity, can we not stand shoulder to shoulder as a people and Demand Change?
Perhaps because until chaos and calamity hits our own front door, we are free to look away, shake our heads and say whatever we feel like saying against the absurdity of it all. Perhaps, until one of our very own is affected personally, goes hungry, is denied the basic necessities over an argument that, in reality, is merely a show-piece for posturing and pretense, it is too easy to employ apathy.
If we could feel the pain of a stranger as deeply as we feel the need of a loved one, the world would truly begin to be a better place. If we want Peace, we need to become Peace. If we long for Love, we first must Love.
20 years ago I was the manager of a retail music store called The Wall. While working there, I met a young man who so influenced my life that I actually had a series of posts early on in my BnV career that were inspired by him (The Burning Questions). He had a particularly intriguing habit of coming into work each day with a specific question. He would pose this question and we would spend the remainder of the day discussing amongst ourselves our thoughts and opinions on the selected topic. Who is the best band of all time? What is the best song ever written? Do ghosts exist? Is there a God? And always, WHY? They were some of the best conversations I’ve ever had. They must have been, because I still remember.
Fast forward 20 years. Lives change, tragedies and challenges happen, and Inspiration Leads. This same young man is now a father and husband, pastor of his own church, a relatively new blogger and the author of his first book. (I say first, because Im certain there will be many). I shared a post by him just last week called “Youth Sports — Love With A Capital L” and now I’d like to introduce you to him. So grab a beverage, curl up with a blanket and enjoy …..
My name is Chad and this is my profile.
These sorts of things always seem vain and self-important, but I can’t figure out why. We wear name tags, introduce ourselves, smile and invite each other to our parties. This is all a very natural overflow of our human need to connect, to see ourselves as part of a bigger story. When I can find a real-life bookstore, I look at the titles, cover art, and excerpts for the same reason: to find somewhere I can belong, someone I can relate to, a hand to hold.
I guess this impulse is why I/we do anything.
I write often and from a pretty specific point of view. That we are loved and accepted by Our Creator – this perspective is the life-line that runs through every word, even if it is never stated. Because you can tell, right? You can tell if someone thinks you are worthy and beautiful. Religion has so often come down on the wrong side of this, showing people we are garbage, we are primarily sinners possessing no real intrinsic value. It’s why I ran from God, Jesus, and spirituality for most of my life. Once I woke up to the fact that this couldn’t have been further from the truth, woke up to the fact that I was loved, here, now, today, what else could I do but spend the rest of my life as a modern-day street preacher? Instead of sandwich boards pointing to a fiery hell, my tools are my heart to open and my arms to wrap around a cold and lonely world who has believed a lie for way too long.
I started the Bridge Faith Community where I teach on Sunday mornings, write on 2 blogs; bridgefaithcommunity.com and lovewithacapitall.com, and now I wrote a book; Chronicles, Nehemiah and Other Books Nobody Reads, that you can get at lulu.com or at my house.
The Bridge blog is very spiritual, mixing my life with Scripture in an attempt to clearly display that God is not somewhere else, that He is here, if only we have eyes to see.
Love With A Capital L is a bit more fun, mixing my life with, well, your life and the art I see/hear/experience and the things that make today explosive and ordinary and painful and overwhelming and totally worthwhile.
These things are the way I express myself, but to be honest, my favorite work of art is my life. I have been given gifts I could never have imagined and been blessed far beyond my wildest dreams. I have 2 of the sweetest boys you have ever met, Samuel and Elisha, and a wife who is truly an Angel. So, I might make it to a million or I might die tomorrow, but I will be thankful for every moment.
Now that it’s finished, maybe it is vain and self-important, but it was pretty fun, too.
Love & Peace.
Here is a chapter of the book:
XXIII. Everyone Needs A Hand To Hold On To
Let’s take this one day at a time, I’ll hold your hand if you hold mine.
Rumors of My Demise Have Been Greatly Exaggerated, Rise Against
If picture’s worth a thousand words then your touch is worth them all.
Dance, Dance Christa Paffgen, Anberlin
For the closing prayer, everyone at the Bridge stands and holds another’s hand in each of their own. Now, for some, this introduces an element of dread into an otherwise safe environment. I’ve seen some hurry from their seats into the lobby or their car when they begin to sense the message winding down. For others, this is the perfect end to their morning.
At the Bridge, we give an awful lot of thought to the environment we create. From the color to the art on the walls to the music and placement of the tables and food, the narthex (a super-fancy term for lobby that I just love) is designed for welcoming comfort. The people are engaging and kind, the food is terrific, entering is easy and non-threatening.
However, once the service starts, there is a different aim altogether. The Scriptures invite us into a transformation, a spiritual re-birth, and transformations are never comfortable. Has there ever been a woman, reflecting on childbirth, that would say it was anything other than stressful, arduous, and exhausting? It’s called labor.
Of course, the primary announcement of the Gospel, the Good News, is one of grace, forgiveness, rescue, and life. No matter who you were, what you’ve done, where you’ve been, you can come home. Not only can you come home, but the Creator of the Universe, and the Creator of you, has been waiting for you with the table set. He has never stopped loving you. You do not have to get it together, stop doing whatever, start doing whatever, or climb any kind of ladder of achievement. He loves you and accepts you, exactly as you are, here, now, today.
That IS Good News.
My wife fell in love and married me. That was really good news, too. She accepted me as I was, scars and all. I had many habits and vices, none of which I’ll detail here and none of which were honoring to a woman as lovely as Angel. She loved me anyway in spite of my flaws, the way I was.
There is really only one response to that kind of overwhelming love; to live into those shoes, into that identity. (Obviously, the love of my wife is a laughably poor comparison to the love of Jesus Christ, but sometimes laughably poor comparisons are all we have. The Taylor Swift song ‘Begin Again’ makes me cry because it points me in the direction of my God.) If someone sees you, loves you, speaks a fresh word about you, and you believe it, that can change everything about you, everything about the way you live. All of the things that you settled for before that moment suddenly aren’t good enough. You are a child of the Living God, made in His image, and there is an honor and dignity to that. Some things are beneath you now. You are made to fly, not to crawl in the muck at the bottom of any gross barrel you see.
But leaving old lives behind is hard. Shedding that skin is painful, full of starts and restarts.
Welcome to Church, right?
Welcome to the road.
Welcome to a full capital-L Life.
Ideally, you come inside and you hear you are the beautiful artwork of God, loved beyond reason. And you weep.
Then you realize that you have erected all sorts of walls, carried such heavy baggage, worn thick iron chains around your neck, locked yourself in a prison you have built. You have believed so many lies that this is all you are worth.
And again you weep.
But it’s LOVE that exposes those lies. It’s LOVE that gives you the tools to break those chains, destroy those walls, and demolish that prison. Tearing down the cage you’ve constructed forever is hard, terrifying work, not for the weak.
Or for the unconnected.
We live in a culture that glorifies the individual, the loner, the hero who pulls herself up by the bootstraps. Our culture has minimized actual personal contact until we have days where we don’t see or talk to another human being in person. I have hundreds of friends on social media, some I’ve never actually met. I prefer to text. If my phone rings, I assume it is an emergency. I drive myself if I must leave the house.
But why would I leave the house?
I can order any products I see advertised to live a fulfilled life. I can order my groceries online and someone leaves a box outside my door. I don’t even have to get dressed. I have new neighbors who I haven’t met.
This is life? This is living?
Is it living to measure my worth based on how many ‘likes’ my latest post garners?
In a word, no. So we hold each others hands as an act of rebellion, opposing the culture that tells us we should worship at the altar of ourselves and our superior abilities. We hold each others’ hands as proclamation that we are, indeed, alive – especially if we have forgotten. Though the road can be long and difficult, it is nothing we have to travel alone.
Do you know what damage it does to a soul that is never touched by another human being? One of the most revolutionary barriers Jesus broke was to touch those who shouldn’t have been and never were touched. In fact, they were called ‘untouchables’ and they were cast out from the rest, regarded as less than human for some reason or another (blood, skin, sin, etc.). Jesus spoke with them, ate with them, and shockingly touched them. As if they were friends or children and not just a disease, history, or reputation. Of course, the healing was physical, superficial, but the true healing took place where the Pharisees could not see, in their hearts.
And that is absolutely worth a bit of uncomfortability.
Thank you so much Chad for sharing your time, talent and self with BnV. Im pleased and honoured to share the news about all you are doing and pray only the best blessings…or the most inspiring …ever touch your life.
There are so many in this world who are alone. So many who are sad, lost, hurting, and they may ask ‘Where is God?’ ‘Why is there so much suffering?’ ‘Why are so many in need?’ ‘ Why does God who is supposed to be all loving allow so much misery?’ ‘Where is He?’
He/She/Universal Love is not far, aloft in the distant cosmos, disconnected and unfeeling. God, whatever or however you think of God, is not some metaphysical apparition. God is Love, love is God; and yet, if God is love why does he seem to not love? Why are there so many situations that are devoid of love?
I recently had an accident where I wound up in the emergency room. (A Segway accident while on holiday that resulted in several cracked ribs) After several hours of pain and tears, I was being discharged and a woman was coming in at the same time. She was extremely angry, but also sad at the same time, though it was harder to see than the anger. She was cursing at the security guards and saying unkind things to the nurse who was helping me to the car. The nurse apologized to me for her behavior, but I wasn’t offended by it. Instead I empathized with her and felt a deal of compassion for her. I wanted to say something, to share some measure of kindness with her. Some offering of love, but I didn’t.
I was very fortunate when the accident that sent me to the ER happened. I was with people who could help me and was surprised by how many strangers stopped to offer their aid, but the woman I met in the ER had no one. Little wonder she felt alone, and it’s not surprising she said the things she did, things like she didn’t matter and that love doesn’t exist. I remained silent, perhaps because of my own pain, but I continued to think about her.
Of course she matters. We all do; and of course Love exists, because even now I’m still thinking about her. Love, much like God, isn’t distant and set apart. Love abides in each of us, waiting to be shared. It reaches out in the hands that tend. It pronounces itself in kindness. It whispers of its existence through compassionate glances and unspoken empathy.
Perhaps this is why there are so many in need? Not because Love doesn’t exist, but to give us the opportunity to prove that it does.
Wherever Love Goes
It Urges Mercy and Justice.
Whenever Love Speaks
It Sings Kindly and Gently.
Whatever Love Teaches
It Inspires Honesty, Truth, and Encouragement.
Whatever Love Gives
It Fills with Compassion and Generosity.
May Love Walk with us, Speak Through us,
Teach our Spirits to Sing Harmoniously,
And Give Selflessly
So we may Never Walk Alone.
Although the past few weeks have been extremely difficult because I’ve been in constant pain, I am finally mending and will be able to return to my normal routine of writing soon!
“Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.”
-Edgar Allan Poe
Do we truly ever stop to consider just how far and wide our words and musings travel? How often do we say things before we consider the lasting effect those words may have, on others or on our own lives? Can we grasp the powerful truth that what we speak becomes our reality?
I have listened over the past months to all the raucous noise of hatred and intolerance flooding our media; of friends dividing from friends and loved ones from loved ones over matters that are fleeting, but I have not raised my voice to join the chorus.
Rumi said: “Raise your words, not your voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.”
How right he was, for the Power of our words, whether spoken or written, create change, instill impressions, teach lasting lessons, and take root. I recently stumbled across my own words, which I use on Facebook as part of my profile introduction, and had to pause.
Words are spoken, heard, seen, felt and dreamed.
Indeed they are! In this hour, when unleashed anger spills over our world, near and far; how will we choose to use our words? Will we Build or destroy? Will we mock or Encourage? Will we take aim with Positive or negative energy? For myself, for my writing and the consequence of the same, I will strive to unleash Harmony. Compassion. Tolerance.
“All I need is a sheet of paper and something to write with, and then I can turn the world upside down.” -Friedrich Nietzsche
Human beings are blessed with the rare gift of language, but they are also blessed with a gift called conscience. Regardless of whether you believe in an afterlife or not; heedless of the truth of Karma or the possibility of having to answer for our every action in some measure, the simple reality, in my humble opinion, is this: what we say; notwithstanding how we say it, has a consequence. My words, written or spoken, will have an effect on someone, somewhere, in some manner, and I do not flout that responsibility. Certainly I feel strongly about this or that, but I do not presume I know enough to say that I am right and someone else is wrong.
What if we are all wrong? What if the only Power on Earth and in the vast cosmos over our heads is the Potent Power of a single syllable? What happens if the indelible connection we refuse to accept is the simplest and most complex notion of all.
The Touch of Love is seen in the Miraculous as well as the Simple,
In the Drops of Water upon a newborns head,
In the Benediction o’er a Final Resting Place;
The Touch of Love is Bread in our Hands
And Wine on our Lips,
In Prayers offered beside the sickbed
And in Joyful Laughter at the birth of Life;
The Touch is in the Understanding and Patience Spoken to a Troubled Youth,
And in the Sincere Help offered to One in Need,
It is Heard in the Promise of Unconditional Love
And the Warm Embrace or Handclasp extended to a Stranger.
The Touch of Love is known in the grinding bit of a drill
Searching for Fresh Water In a Forgotten Village,
And in a coverlet offered to a refugee, lost and alone.
The Gentle Touch of Love is Shared through words of Encouragement
To One depressed, discouraged or grieving,
And Through the Compassion of Empathy conveyed
By a Wordless Nod or Gaze.
The Touch of Love is Extended to Each of Us and Shared Through All of Us,
To The World In Need.
Poem inspired and written in conjunction with Pastor Robert Kehrli
Article is my July Morgan’s Musings from Fresh Lifestyle Magazine
Yet another tragic shooting has assailed our land, leaving hundreds injured or lost. My sadness at this senseless act of hatred and violence cannot be nullified. The simple, sad truth is that we seem to live in a society that hates first and argues second. We lay blame and point fingers. We turn tragedy into anger so we can rationalize retaliation. We bite the hand that feeds us and then complain when there is no food.
I have heard the exclamation more than once: “How could God let this happen?” Or “Where was God when this was happening?” It matters very little who you Believe God to be; perhaps what is more relevant is, Do You Believe in the Existence of Absolute Love? I am not here to try to prove the existence or non-existence of such a universal essence; rather, I am writing to share a possible explanation or answer to that outcry.
When prayers for Peace seem to go Unanswered, should we not remember that we are the ones taking God / Absolute Love out of everything?
God / Absolute Love is no longer welcome in our schools, our work places, our government, even our entertainment, and many of our homes.
Where there is Light, there is Dark. Where there is Life, there is Death. Action, reaction: it’s a fundamental law of nature. So, with so many doors closing to God / Absolute Love, is it any wonder the opposite has found a foothold? When we push love away, do we not leave room for the opposite to fill the void?
What is the solution?
Think it, Feel it, Act it, Share it. After all, the only way to Achieve Peace, is to become Peace.
In loving remembrance of ALL those who have felt the reaction of the loss of Love; those affected by shootings, violence, hatred, and negativity.
May LOVE Re-Fill the void!
For any who find themselves interested, here is the link to my June Morgan’s Musings as printed in Fresh Lifestyle Magazine 🙂
“How it is that animals understand things I do not know, but it is certain that they do understand. Perhaps there is a language which is not made of words and everything in the world understands it. Perhaps there is a soul hidden in everything and it can always speak, without even making a sound, […]
Thanks to Purplerays for this beautiful quote. It is something I have always believed, but could not express in quite such a Poignant and Beautiful way, yet I am quite sure this Soul that is hidden, this Spirit of Harmony; this Essence of Unified Understanding lives and breathes within each of us. It Speaks softly in whispers we often overlook or ignore. It Sings Gently in lilting tones and shifting hues that sparkle in our smiles and warms our hands when they reach out to Give. It Abides in the balm of a morning breeze and nestles amid the lavender shadows of twilight, seeking to soothe, if only we would allow it to touch us.
Perhaps it is synchronicity, that today I should find this lovely post when, among my morning thoughts of Gratitude and meditative centering, I asked the following: Guide our Perceptions as a people; a nation; a world, to blend in a Unified Consciousness of Harmony and Peace. Teach us to Share the Love that lives and breathes all around us through acts of Kindness we do not turn aside from; through Gentleness of Spirit and Enduring Patience. Shift our desires from all the cruelty and selfish motivations that overwhelm the innocent and the mild so we may Abide in Love and Peace, Hope and Joy.
Blessings to you my Friends~
In this world of rapidity, haste, and urgency, where instant has become the norm and the norm has become tedious, the importance of Quietness and Solitude has seemingly been forgotten. We fill our daily schedules to the point where there remains little, if any, time to simply sit quietly, close our eyes, and unwind. We participate in every imaginable activity; we flutter from community event to social outing; we hurry to work, hurry to the gym, rush home, race through a meal in order to dash back out the door again until we fall into bed in the attempt to cram in a few hours of sleep before we start it all over again.
Life around us is bustling and bursting, blaring with boisterous babbling and blatantly brazen brashness that bewilders and befuddles. From the minute we bounce out of bed, we fill our eyes and ears with sound and images; we hurry our hands with smart technology; we drink copious quantities of caffeinated energy drinks so we can rush to and fro, rarely taking a moment to smell the roses or sit amoung the lilies. Yet Peace Pervades Peacefully. Tranquility Settles Tenderly. Serenity Rests Calmly. And the only way to attain these Treasures is to do the same.
Turn off the tunes and open the window so you may listen to the birds singing. Stop from rushing and Sigh in the warmth of the afternoon breeze. Forego meeting the crowd at the pub and Walk quietly along a burbling stream to listen to its purifying laughter. Turn off the lights and Gaze at the stars to wonder with awe. Put down the i-device and pick up a daisy to pluck its petals pensively or Run your hands through the feathering fronds of a whispering willow to feel tranquility seeping into your soul. Sit quietly in contemplation of the singular Majesty and Mystery of your own beating heart and Take stock of each Precious breath.
In that Quietude, where technology pauses and the human condition returns, the simple, understated gesture of folding your hands, closing your eyes, and bowing your head can have a far greater and more lasting effect upon your day and your life than any latest tune, text message, tweet, post, or energy drink. In that Silence, where all the rushing stops and a measure of Harmony returns, Peace will Pervade. Tranquility will Settle, and Serenity will Calm; teaching the mind that Opens to their gentle Presence that all the Wealth and Power in the world cannot replace the Blessing of a single moment spent Touching the Spirit.
Beautiful Image found at : silver-blonde.tumblr.com
Always hoping to Inspire, I shared the following, which you can also read in its entirety on the website itself.
A Friend and I were recently talking about the Amish and Mennonite who he described as writing their poetry with the fine works of their hands, rather than with words as he and I do, which I thought was a truly beautiful perspective. I wandered down the path of this perspective, as I am wont to do, and I realized how this is true for most of us, if lyricism or writing, painting and photography are not the gifts to hand. We make our mark on this world, in big and small ways, in lasting ways we little realize, with our words, with our smiles, with our choices, with our convictions, and with our compassion.
As most of you are probably aware, I am Christian by Faith, but I also think outside, above, and on many other sides of the box. I agree with and admire many other philosophies and forms of spiritualism who revere all living creatures and live harmoniously in this world. This appeals to me a great deal and I think this is what Jesus meant when He said “Love your Neighbor as Yourself”. Yet the longer I think about this and wander down the path of musing, I am forced to consider, just who is my neighbor?
Is it the old woman living next door? Is it the young child that runs around in Walmart that others scowl at for making too much noise? Is it the overly obese woman no one wants to look at because society tells us she is ugly and unworthy? Is it the old man with little of his teeth who is standing on the corner with a tin cup hoping for a few coins so he can eat something today? Is it the child whose parents neglect and abuse because they are more interested in drugs? Or is it those same parents? Is it the person of a different nationality than my own whom I cannot understand on the other end of the telephone line who is trying to help me? Is it the young man on a skateboard with his pants half way to his knees and his hat on sideways who I simply cannot relate to? Is it the “crazy” old lady in the mall who is talking to the bench she is sitting on because no one else will talk to her?
Is it the dog that is left to starve because its owners have decided they are tired of it?……. Please stop by Neighbors on Medium.com to read more.
Whispers Drift upon a turbulent tide,
Love and Hope amidst fear and pride;
While Harmony Sings, Gently turning the page;
O Cannon of Sweet Liberty,
Serenade of Hope, Passionate and Free;
Lilt upon the sun-kissed sky,
Impart your Blessing in the face of Lies!
In these hours of fear and distrust, in the face of the turbulence around us, Do We Dare to Hope? Do We Dare to raise a banner of LOVE in the parade of violence and dissension? I Hope We Do.
While writing today in book three of Dark Fey, as I filled page after page with fear and anger, resentment, distrust and the bold intervention of Love; I felt compelled to share the message about which I write. I Hope it may stir Inspiration within you, as it has within me!
In the Spirit of Love and Friendship,
Beautiful photograph found on Pinterest. Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original photographer. Thank You~
When All Hope fails and darkness closes in, Remember,
Even in the depths of the cosmos where distances are vast and no warmth survives,
When Faith falters and shadows rush in to snatch and steal, to cheat and lie, Remember,
Even in the deepest reaches of the heavens where time stretches out to eternity,
When Trust is shattered and fear settles like an icy mantel that freezes the heart and captures the Soul, Remember,
Even in the farthest reaches of space where infinity expands into the unfathomable,
Inside of You,
Morgan’s Musings is the name of the column I am now writing on a monthly basis for Fresh Lifestyle Magazine. Today my very first official article has been published, marking 2/9, (once again,but thats another post entirely!) as a Blessed day.
Light Endures was one of my highest ranked posts from BnV of all time, so it was not a difficult choice to share the verse for my first article, and then to add a short expansion of the verse, giving a sort of behind the scenes look into what Inspired the poem and why I wrote it, which you can Read in it’s entirety here.
Thank You ever so much, not only for sharing my excitement, but for sharing my journey. It has been so amazing, blossoming from not having a clue about what blogging is or how to do it, to sharing my very first poem, and then my very first BOOK, to this, now, today, my Very First Nationally Published article in my very own column in a well respected magazine.
OH the JOY is nearly Overwhelming!!!!!! I’m off to enjoy the radiant glow of the Light …that Ever Endures 🙂
A journey towards living an inspired life of love in the modern world
Hoping to inspire the world one word at a time.
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