REKINDLED LOVE
On a lonely beach
Dinner for two
Is what you chose
Heart pounding
Hands sweating
Mind unfocused
Speechless
Beside you
I stood
Arm in arm
You guided me
And whispered
Be with me
Stay with me
Live with me
Lighter than air
Softer than silk
Warmer than summer
You embraced
Me whole
With gentleness
You kissed
My lips
With tenderness
I reaccepted
A ring’s
Caressed
My heart
My soul
My life
Has been
It is and
Will be
Only for
My true love
You, my Husband
While You Slept
To you
my love
I whispered,
in the night,
“One Single
white rose
is what I
NEED
to know
I’m still
yours.”
FLOATING RINGS
°
Golden love
Never revealed
The rings of ice
My heart would
Feel from the one
Who loves me
By their darting
Icicle words
°
Dedicated this post to all dose who found the day of love, empty from broken promises.
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Yet, know someone’s love never sends ice, cold darts and leaves you with broken promises, for His love for you is always abundant. God himself will take you in his loving arms and coo your hurting soul, every – single time.
°
🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️
HEY!!! WATCH OUT WHERE YOU’RE STEPPING!
One never knows what worlds exist if one doesn’t take time to stop and take a look.
Below my feet.
As hard as I tried to not step on the smallness of the crowed shells, crunching sounds still came from below my foot.
I came to a halt, as if I heard, “Hey, watch where you’re stepping,” and bent over.
For a moment, I saw myself like Godzilla passing through Tokyo.
When I zoomed in on my phone camera, left me in total wonder.
The scene sucked me away from my world, shrink me to a tiny size and I entered a place I’ve never seen before.
Intricate details, distinguishing colors and uniquely shaped homes revealed a beautiful world, which I was about to collapsed and destroy in one step.
Just like my steps, I must be careful with my words, written or said. Once the action of my printed words or spoken have occurred, they land in people’s minds and hearts. My words will either destroy a world or help rebuilt one.
My hope is for my words to bring healing and possibly repair a destructed life.
Let’s be careful were we trot, not only with our feet, but with our words.
Photos taken in Ketchikan, Alaska
Nancy Merrill Photography Weekly Challenge ~ Crowd
CAN WE REMAIN TOGETHER EVEN IF WE ARE BROKEN?
Marriage is hard, It’s an ongoing, challenging commitment. One, must keep believing not only in each other, but why one wanted to be united in the first place.
The song, Broke Together by Casting Crowns reminded me of a part of my wedding vow which I try hard to keep real in my heart, especially when turbulence shakes my marriage. When I’m standing on shaking grown from a disagreement, I recall the vow I try to keep alive, “For better or for worst, until death do us part.”
Then, I cry for help to the only One who can change not only my husband mind and heart, but mine. That’s if we’re willing. I’ve learned if I want my husband to change, I need to first look at what needs to be change in me. This idea works both ways, but one must be willing to allow God to show the truth of the circumstance and the truth about the person asking.
I’ll be truthful, before God begins to reveal what needs changing in me, I give him a piece of my mind. When I’m done with my whimpering and complaining, He reminds me to allow Him to hold all my hurting heart. It is then when I can hear truth. I’ve learned, things can’t improve, if I keep asking God to change him without changing me. Change can’t occur on both individuals, if we aren’t willing to see WHY we are part of the problem.
If I don’t ask God to change me, the problem and disharmony prolongs and will return quicker. After I see my faults and take ownership, then my husband begins to make amends. If I’m not at fault, I must remain steadfast in wanting to remain united and ask God to help my husband, as He helped me. Then I wait for God to help my husband, For God always waits on me.
A marriage is an art in progress that doesn’t stay beautiful. It can get ugly and messy. The problem is, we fall short of being patient, kind and loving, our brokenness shows up again and again. Our old nature returns and the explosion sends the mushroom cloud of destruction into the atmosphere.
It’s good to remind ourselves, we are broken people. But unlike Humpty Dumpty, we can be place back together again, every time we ask for help.
To fall less, we must acknowledge what tripped us. Was it fear, doubt, insecurities, selfishness, thoughtlessness or refusal to say, “It’s my fault. Please forgive me, for the hundredth time.” These are just a few things that causes the turbulence and shakes our commitment.
The dream of the perfect marriage doesn’t last. Realism comes as soon as the sun rises and one wakes up, But, hope is eternal. Hope in what God sees in your spouse and in yourself, instead of the broken parts of each other’s lives.
When you run out of love for your spouse, go to God, the maker of love, who gives freely to anyone who asks. HIs love, never runs out despite of how many times one falls.
If you are married or plan to get married, listen to the song, Broken Together and hold on to hope as you keep the promise for better or for worse. God bless our commitment to cherish and to hold.
(Fictional Story)
He sneezed on our hamburgers and fries.
I handed him a napkin and pushed my food aside.
He placed the scrunched napkin on the table and passed me a note.
I read, while he finished his rosemary flavored fries.
I’m breaking up with you. My therapist confirmed, my allergies worsen since I met you. Your hypersensitivity gave me an uncontrollable itch and a rash that will not go away. You know where. Without moving my head, I glance at him.
He slurped his drink, sniffled and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand.
I reposition my body, faced away from him and continued to read, Your moodiness has left me susceptible to loneliness which has given me sleepless nights and my performance at work has declined.
He stretched his arm and yawned as he tilted back his chair.
I kept reading. Your need to bathe at night and shower in the morning, daily, has wiped my immune system with every illness known by my mother. Therefore, you must move out, then I can heal from your weirdness and get healthy again.
Carefully, I folded the note in the same way he had it, gave it to him, pushed myself away from the table, took out my hand sanitizer and stared at his pale face. Yes, I am a bit OCD. It worsen on my first year of practicing medicine. Which happened to be the same time I began to work with Dr. Hide. He kept asking me out and I kept letting him down easy. He was uptight in the surgery room and way too loose outside the OR for me.
With my arms folded, I said, “Stephen, I’ve put up with you long enough. Playing along with your fantasy world has gone to far. I agree to have lunch with you because, we are both professional adults.” I stood up and handed him my notice.
He opened the letter, read it, then screamed, “What? You can’t leave me. I’m moving out. Didn’t you read my note?”
The hospital cafeteria went numbly silent.
With a poised and calmed voice, I said, “Dr. Hide, I want to make it perfectly clear. We, never lived together only worked in the same room while I played along with your fictional plots. Now, you have to find another anesthesiologist who will play along with your make-believe stories. Maybe your therapist or your mother can help you find the one who can cure you from all the diseases I caused you.” I turn around and left my letter of resignation with the chief brain surgeon. Whom, I had actually fallen very fond of and his quirky games.
As I walked down the hallway, I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder. I glanced behind me. Stephen knelt on the floor.
I faced him.
With both hands behind him, he said, “Marissa, please, don’t leave me. You have been my favorite play mate.”
I dashed to him. “Dr. Please get up. You are embarrassing me.” I felt sweat beats forming on my forehead.
On one knee, he brought before him a blown up glove and said, “Will you marry me?”
A ring hung from the glove. Nurses, doctors and patients watched with elated expressions. Oos and awes seem to synchronized with the beeping heart monitor.
I said, “What took you so long.”
He stood up.
We hugged.
He whispered, “So, you will stay?”
With a smile I responded. “I never was going away.”
“Oh, you got me. You got me good. I was scared that you were truly leaving me to face my unorthodox behavior all alone.” He chuckled and turned beat read.
“Never, as long as I can start bathing at night and showering in the morning.”
“Can I join you?”
We kissed.
Everyone laughed and applauded.
Oh, sweetie, how did you manage to grow?
I’ve been gone for weeks and forgot to leave you a drink.
Look at you, you’re amazingly beautiful.
The radiate glow of your peddles are beyond belief.
I dare not look away, for I’ve been stricken with love.
You’ve stolen the words from my heart.
No adjectives can I find to describe your elegant form.
I’ve taken a photo of you.
Maybe, in the future, I’ll come up with a poem, a short story of hope or possibly a song.
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Photo Challenge – Growth.
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Here is a great blog to read, “There are Good Guys Out There,” by Cage Dunn. Her blog propelled me to post this poem I wrote about my husband. I first posted the poem to go with the picture on Instagram. Hope you stop by Cage’s blog.
On a frozen bench
I found my heart
It faced tomorrow
where moments
come from
While it held
Past memories
It showed me
How there’s plenty
room for more
to materialize
It has been several days since I’ve posted anything, only because I’ve been spending time with my daughter. She turned twenty-three years-old this week and she still captivates my motherly heart.
Even though, we both would have loved to stay indoors, next to a cozy fire, we ventured out on a foggy, cold day and hiked the hoarfrost land.
When she returns to her work, in Seattle, Washington she will be absent from my life, but never gone from my heart.
I’ve frozen these past days the Lord allowed me to have with her. In the future, I’ll take a moment, like an ice-cube, from this week, thaw it out and relive the memory of our exploration as I drink from my past.
In spite of the cold, freezing day in Anchorage, Alaska and it’s ice, slippery paths, we talked, laughed, and giggled the whole way, especially when we slipped and slid down the slanting path to the beach.
Here are a few photos of her in the Kincaid park, a winter wonderland in Anchorage, Alaska. At the end are photos of a baby whale carcass. Which she wanted to see.
The young whale was washed to shore in late September. Now the carcass looks like deformed frozen stones. Once, one get’s close to the decomposing form one can see it was a whale, a spiritual being for the Native Alaskan tribes.
corazon181 