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Rhema

11 Monday Jan 2021

Posted by Kate in Poetry

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Blog, Blog Post, Christ Life, Christian Blog, Father Son and Holy Spirit, Indwelling Spirit, Inspired Poetry, Love of the Father, Poem, Poems, Poet, Poetry, United with Christ, Unity

The thief comes only to steal, and kill, and destroy; I came that they might have life, and might have it abundantly. John 10:10, New American Standard (NAS)

The Christian life is not automatic. The joy of the Lord, the Peace that surpasses all human understanding, the spirit of power, love, and a sound mind (II Timothy 1:7, NKJV): all of these things are ours in Jesus through the Holy Spirit but we grow into them. Paul writes, “But we all, with unveiled face beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as from the Lord, the Spirit”. 2 Corinthians 3:18 (NAS). It is the Holy Spirit, living within me who teaches me how to live with joy and peace and stability of spirit but I do not sit passive. I believe with all I am that everything my life in Jesus is, is meant to be, is becoming, comes from Him. I do not earn it. Rather, I live in partnership with what His Spirit is doing in me and that sometimes involves giving myself a good talking to.

I wrapped up a study on John 3:5 where I agreed with the conclusion that being born of water and the Spirit is being born of the word and the Spirit. Which word? The logos (G3056) or the rhema (G4487)? Is there a difference? I found Vines Expository Dictionary a help in distinguishing between the two: “Logos denotes the expression of thought-not the mere name of an object-as embodying a conception or idea…the revealed will of God…Rhema denotes that which is spoken, what is uttered in speech or writing”1

I enjoy doing word studies. A study is never over. As I was looking into John 3:5 I saw many different subjects I want to pursue. I found it difficult not to get sidetracked and looking at “the word” in the New Testament was one such temptation. There is far too much to say for this post so I will limit myself to saying I believe there is and is not a difference. There is no rhema without the Logos-Jesus Himself-and yet the logos is not expressed without the rhema. The Spirit reveals Jesus to me but then I find I need to hear words spoken. I listen to teachers, I read, and I often have to speak to myself. Ephesians 5:18-19 says, “…be filled with the Spirit, speaking to one another in psalms and hymns, and spiritual songs”. While not explicit in this passage, I believe talking to myself is just as important as sharing with others. I hear so many other voices, even when I step away from social media outlets, and few of them are saying edifying things. My thoughts begin to whirl and I must talk to myself, remind myself who Jesus is, and remind myself who I am in Him.

This is one such poem I wrote to remind myself of reality in Christ.

Rhema

What is the source of my joy?

How can I know joy exists

When I see so much adversity?

Because I know the One who is Joy.

What is the source of my peace?

How can I believe in peace

When I see so much tragedy?

Because I know the One who is Peace.

What is the source of knowledge?

How can I see Him

When I see so much death and pain?

Because I know the One who Speaks.

His Spirit is knowing

His Spirit is certain

He is the Source

In the depths of me

Knitted to me

Opening the heart’s eyes

The welling spring

The River of living water

The Fountain of my life

The All in All

The Fear Not

The Living and Enduring Word.

  1. Vine, W.E., Vine’s Expository Dictionary of Old & New Testament Words, 1997, Nashville, Tennessee, Thomas Nelson, Inc., 1241-1242

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Great Expectations-Part One

05 Monday Oct 2020

Posted by Kate in Walking in the Way

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Blog, Blog Post, Blogging, Christian Blog, Christian Life, Healing, Living with Disability, Living with TBI, Prayer, Promises of God

Yesterday was the anniversary of the car accident that left me differently-abled.  I am grateful to be walking and that, once my hair grew back in, I was not left with visible scars but I do live with limitations; both physical and cognitive.  Which brings me to what I want to discuss in this series of posts:  I say I have a relationship with Jesus…why then am I not healed?

2 Corinthians 1: 20 says, “For no matter how many promises God has made, they are “Yes” in Christ.  And so through Him the “Amen” is spoken by us to the glory of God”.  There are many promises of healing I could quote from both the Old and New Testaments but, for the sake of brevity, I’m going to focus on Exodus 15: 26 which states, “If you listen carefully to the Lord your God and do what is right in His eyes, if you pay attention to His commands and keep all His decrees, I will not bring on you any of the diseases I brought on the Egyptians, for I am the Lord who heals you.”  If He is the Lord who heals me and this promise is “yes” in Jesus, then I should be able to expect healing, right?

And, it does seem Exodus lays out the rules for receiving healing.  IF I pay attention to His commands and keep all His decrees, THEN He will heal me.  I have attempted to pay attention to His commands and keep all His decrees.  I attended churches (not forsaking the assembling like Hebrews 10:25 says!) and attempted to do what they told me to do.  I read my bible, attended multiple services per week, and devoted time to prayer.  Then, I would miss a day of reading or a prayer time. Since I could not do these simple things on a regular basis, how could I expect God to heal me? 

I sought healing through biblical methods.  I had hands laid on me, was anointed with oil, stood in healing lines, and was prayed over.  One traveling evangelist insisted that if he laid hands on me I WOULD be healed so I imagine my disappointment when he did so and I was not.  Of course then the fault was mine because “a double-minded person is unstable in all they do” and “such a person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord” (James 1: 8 and 7) so my still being in pain caused me to doubt which meant I didn’t really trust God and didn’t have any faith so He could not heal me. I had these things said to me.

Then I realized that, if I was following the rule laid down in Exodus, all I had to do was pay attention to His commands and keep His decrees.  What simplicity!  Jesus only left me with one: “Love one another.  As I have loved you, so you must love one another.”  (John 13:34)  Well, has anyone else tried this?  Have you found it as difficult a command to keep as I have?  Failure after failure after failure.  No wonder I didn’t have my healing!  How could God heal someone who so consistently fell short of His standards of behavior?!

Have any of you been subjected to this?  If you have, know I empathize with you.  I have been trapped in this never-ending cycle of just not being good enough to please God and finally receive of His promises.  I was already tired from the effects of the car accident and all this striving only made me more so.  Then, I had a life crisis so devastating I was certain I could not and never had heard from God.  I had failed Him so completely I should just curl up and die so He could send me to hell and get it over with.  It was in this place that I met God!  The living God.  The gentle, loving Father who so desired a relationship with me, He sent Jesus into my darkness and death to get me and bring me out.  (John 3:16 and especially 17!, John 17: 3, Ephesians 2: 4-7)

My feet were set on a new path and I began to get to know The Father.  I do not say the path has been easy.  In fact, it felt like the moment my Father began to show me who He was, the floodgates of hell were opened in my life.  Even though…through every devastating circumstance, my Father has revealed a little more of Himself to me and I have been filled with awe and wonder.

But still I struggled with limitations from the car accident and, as the years went by, I developed other health problems.  I prayed about them, tried to “Amen” all the promises of God, and received no miraculous healing.  I ended up having a major surgery and afterwards had the opportunity to speak with a close friend.  I told her how I had prayed leading up the surgery-that I would be spared having to go through it-and how the answer I had received had been “no”.  I told my friend that, while I could accept the no, I had expected things to be different.  It had been years since I’d come to know The Father in a new way and I’d expected I would level up somehow: like in a spiritual video game. 

We both laughed at that but, after hanging up with her, I continued to think about it.  That had been my expectation: that with greater understanding came greater blessings.  Wasn’t that the rule?  Within a few months of this conversation, I had to have another minor procedure.  I threw up my spiritual hands.  Whatever the secret was, I clearly had not discovered it.

Again, while a painful place to be, it is not a bad place to be.  It has been my experience over the last seventeen years that these valleys of deepest darkness are where my Father’s light shines brightest.  And so it proved.

To be continued…

Bible verses are quoted from the New International Version

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Friendship

07 Monday Sep 2020

Posted by Kate in Poetry, Walking in the Way, Writing

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Blog, Christ Life, Christian Life, Holy Spirit, Inspired Poetry, Love of God, Oneness, Poet, Poetry, Relationship not Religion, Unity

What can I

A mere Creation

Create in myself

To tell You

The One Who Creates

Of my heart?

How can I

Mere dust

Say in words

To tell You

The Source of me

What I feel?

What is there

Inside of me

New to You?

Thoughts of mine

When told to You

You are surprised?

How can I

Bought by You

Belonging to You

Tell You in words

Of all I would

If only I could

If words were enough?

Tell me, You say

Tell me all

I want to hear

All you would say

To Me

The Invisible One

Who gave The Word

So You and I

Could Speak together

Of all that We will

Because We can

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Just a Butterfly

31 Monday Aug 2020

Posted by Kate in Walking in the Way

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Tags

Blog, Christ Life, Christian Life, Essay, Holy Spirit, No Fear, Personal Essay, Spiritual Life, Spirituality

By the Water at the Reservoir

I like symbols.  I enjoy how symbols can open my eyes to truth I had not yet perceived.  I do try not to get carried away looking everywhere for symbols and hidden meanings and I especially am careful about looking for signs from God.  1 Corinthians 1:22 has always felt like a warning about looking for signs so I have sought to know God’s voice for myself, therefore rendering null and void any need for a sign.  And yet, what about those times when God is there-I know it because His presence is always with me-and yet He is remaining silent?  There are few things more frustrating in my spiritual journey than when God is remaining silent as it usually happens during a time when I need to hear from Him the most.

 I mentioned before how a crisis some seventeen years was merely a catalyst for Jesus to reveal Himself to me in a different way and set my feet on a new path.  Coming to know Him in greater intimacy has not happened all at once. It has been an awful painful wonderful glorious journey: one I’ve survived by relying on Him day by day.  I recently realized I have seen aspects of His character He has been bringing me to see over the course of the last three years. I can look back now and see how it all worked together for me to KNOW what I know today but, at the time, the butterfly was just a butterfly. 

It all started three years ago when my doctor found a lump in my breast.  I hadn’t noticed it.  It truly felt like it had appeared overnight.  My doctor was concerned but not overly so.  She thought it could be a result of an ongoing hormonal imbalance and I was to come back in a month and she’d see if it had changed size or gone away.  I prayed every day of that month, asking He who is my Healer to take it away.  I went back for my follow up visit knowing it hadn’t gone away and having no idea what was going to happen next.  Painful and invasive exams were what happened next, culminating in a biopsy.  I had to wait a few days for the results of my biopsy and, while there was an enormous chance my lump was benign, there was a chance it wasn’t. I couldn’t think, felt numb, and sought the peace I normally find in nature by taking a walk at the reservoir.

It was a beautiful, warm day but I felt I was carrying ice around in my very marrow.  The what if was a whirl-a-gig inside my mind and, although I knew He was with me, He wasn’t making me any specific promises.  I didn’t know what to pray for.  He is my Healer-I believe that with everything I am-but I couldn’t deny He hadn’t healed me-the lump was proof of that- and I felt my foundation of faith was rather shaky beneath my feet.

I managed to make it to my favorite bench placed right by the water before I felt I couldn’t go any further.  I sat there in the warm sunshine, listened to the insects in the long grass, the birds on the water, and just waited in His presence.  Surely, alone in this place, He would speak comfort to me.

As I sat, a small yellow butterfly appeared, flitting from flowers to blades of grass.  I have always thought butterflies symbols of spiritual truths: their beauty, the way the gland at the base of their skull consumes their caterpillar life and the butterfly emerges from that death (our death swallowed in His life!); they have so much to teach me about walking with God.  Thus, I always enjoy seeing butterflies and have never had a moment where I did not feel closer to God when I saw one.  I watched that tiny creature, so yellow it looked like sunshine come to life, and waited for a message from God.  There was nothing. 

 I couldn’t help laughing at myself.  Perhaps I was looking for too much.  Were it a story I was writing, the butterfly would have been the harbinger of great peace and spiritual growth.  Instead, it was nothing more than a creature doing what it was created to do.  A pretty creature, certainly, but nothing more.  The butterfly was just a butterfly.  I was not living inside a book. I had no promise from God that I did not have cancer.  I had no idea what I might be facing in the coming days.  I still had to go home and wait for my test results.  I rose from the bench and made my way home.

My results arrived and I did not have cancer.  My relief was beyond my ability to describe.  Still, the presence of the lump meant my hormone imbalance was more serious than I thought and I could potentially develop severe problems.  I turned out I already had and I ended up having a major surgery only a year later.  I had not developed cancer but though again I prayed, it was a surgery I was not spared. 

And yet, there was never a moment when He was not with me.  It wasn’t that I was not afraid nor in pain.  It wasn’t that I lied to myself and assured myself there was no reason to be afraid.  There was every reason and there were some I hadn’t even considered until I read through and signed my pre-surgery paperwork.  Rather, there wasn’t a step I took He didn’t take with me.  That fact was something I only truly realize now as I am having some painful complications from that surgery, am having difficulties getting treatment for those complications, and have no fear at all.  Irritation at the roadblocks-Jesus does not make me superhuman-but He infuses me with His strength to look into the unknown without fear. How is such a thing possible?  I don’t think it would be if I hadn’t had it cemented in me through experience that He keeps his promises and does not ever leave me nor forsake me.  Whatever my next moments, days, and years hold, I know that I don’t face anything alone.

Oddly, that little yellow butterfly has never been far from my mind.  I was so sure then it meant nothing and yet it has come to be important to me.  Perhaps I don’t have to look for signs or symbols.  Perhaps He gives them to me and then gives me recognition and understanding when the time is right.  I do know I will never again see a butterfly as just a butterfly.

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Individual Individuality

14 Tuesday Jul 2020

Posted by Kate in Uncategorized

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Blog, Blogging, Community, defining words, Humanity, individual, Inspiration, Spiritual Life, Spirituality

They Look Like Many, Yet They Are One

I love words.

This is a good thing because, as both an avid reader and a writer, I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about words, studying them, breaking them down, and finding that perfect word that says exactly what I want to say.

Finding that perfect word isn’t always easy because the meanings of words change. Language is as fluid as a river and meanings can change over time or be forgotten and a word is now used to mean one thing when it was, at one time, used to mean the opposite.

Take the word “individual”. I have always believed this word to mean and have used it in my writing to mean: single, separate, distinguishable from others, unique. This is how the word is used almost exclusively today. And, the definition is not wrong: my Webster’s New World Dictionary does offer up “existing as a single, separate thing or being” as the second definition of Individual. And yet, I was reading a teaching by J. Preston Eby where he wrote that Individual meant “not divisible”. I had to look that up and, sure enough, the first definition of Individual is indeed “not divisible; not separable”.

Which is the correct usage? Does the fact that the second definition is used the majority of the time render void the first?

Everything in me revolts against sameness. What do I mean by this? The best fictional example I can think of is in “A Wrinkle in Time” by Madeleine L’Engle where she shows her readers the planet of Camazotz (which, if you’re interested, is the name of a bat god from Mayan mythology) The people of Ms. L’engle’s Camazotz are ruled by a single mind and are forced to be exactly alike, down the the perfect bouncing of balls during play time. Anyone deviating from what IT has decided is the norm is harshly re-educated. On this world, the first definition of Individual is paramount in every negative sense of the word.

I see this pressure towards sameness in the real world. Why? I get that there is safety in numbers but, historically, it’s the odd man or woman out who makes the discovery, solves the equation, writes the novel, and composes the masterpiece. The Individual is important. While I do not claim brilliance for myself, I am aware that I am unique. There is no one like me. There has never been anyone like me. There will never be anyone like me. I am an Individual and I hold as precious my sense of being a unique being. This being so, do I then believe the second definition is more important than the first?

No. I believe both definitions are equally important because, while I fiercely guard my own individuality, I am aware that every other human being on the face of this earth is also an Individual: as unique as I am. I think J. Preston Eby says it best:

“We speak of ourselves as individuals. Someone says, “I am an individual.” By that he means that he is separate from everyone else. We think, “I’m not like other people. I’m me. I’m something different. I’m special. I’m unique. I’m an individual.” The English word “individual,” however, comes from the Latin word individuus meaning indivisible or not divisible. It’s not that which is separate — it’s that which cannot be separated! It means that if I am an individual I am not separate from the rest of humanity. I am simply a unique expression of everything humanity is! It’s not separation from; it’s identification with!”

Identification with. Not separate from. An Individual yet part of an Individuum. How are these two seemingly opposite definitions reconciled in me? How do I live with my certainty of my own value without feeling threatened by the equal value of my fellow beings?

One of my favorite scriptures is Isaiah 30:15 specifically, “in quiet and confidence shall be your strength.” I have meditated on these words and, while there are many nuances of meaning, I am convinced that these two attributes are essential to my living in peace with myself and with everyone else. When I know that I am an Individual-in the words of J. Preston Eby “a unique expression of the word, of the spirit, of the mind, of the substance, of the totality of the being of our heavenly Father”-I find quietness and confidence. There is no turmoil in my spirit because I know how my heavenly Father sees me and I don’t have to compete with anyone nor assert my individuality. Seeing myself as He sees me gives me a confidence that can’t be shaken by anyone or anything so I don’t have to regard my fellow humans with suspicion.

I guess that, ultimately, the word I’m looking for isn’t Individual after all. It’s Identity.

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Strange gods

03 Friday Jul 2020

Posted by Kate in Poetry, Writing

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Blog, Inspired Poetry, Poem, Poet, Poetry

One of my Mom’s paintings

Another post so soon! Thanks to my step-father’s dedication and a range extender, I have reliable internet again and, since I’d finished my poem…

This poem is inspired by Deuteronomy 32:12-13; a small segment of the Song of Moses which is another beautiful example of song/poems in the bible.

Strange gods

The trumpet sounded with the dawn and I set myself to roam

I searched for a meeting place-somewhere I could call home

I wandered far, both day and night, until I saw a golden dome.

Its beacon shone in light and dark and attracted a vast throng

I joined myself to them and learned to sing their lovely song

Yet came the day I found I was getting the words wrong.

Why this song?, I finally asked; “What’s all this repetition for?”

His voice is singing myriad-shouldn’t we all learn something more?

But they called me a blasphemer and they showed me to the door.

I walked until I found a group of people singing in the street

They greeted me, welcomed me, took me with them so I could eat

Once in their home they sat me and soothed my aching feet.

I set about becoming one with their song and with their creed

Yet they said I was not really like them not in word and not in deed

They could teach me to become so but to stay I’d have to bleed.

I like it here, I like your song, I want to stay with you

But you have the best in Jesus-what more can my blood do?

They said I’d seen no light at all and I had to search for someplace new.

I stumbled on until I found someone I thought I knew

She asked me to go with her-promised to show me what was true

We sat down at a table spread before a wondrous view.

The vista was incredible-the mountains had never looked so near

There was not a cloud overhead the air was cool and clear

There is no work for us, she said, but to eat while we wait here.

There was food that I had never seen and I was told to choose a treat

But there was nothing savory-no salt among the sweet

She told me to go elsewhere if I wished plain bread and meat.

I wandered into new lands but found no open door

Finally I collapsed with body, heart, and soul too sore

to rouse myself again-I could not take one step more.

In the darkness there He found me though I’d thought I was alone

He ministered Himself to me, restored me blood and bone

Then He bade me tell Him everything, all I’d seen and how I’d grown.

With faltering lips I shared with Him my lengthy tale of woe

I told Him how I’d sought Him and had found Him even though

His face, at first familiar, had become one strange I did not know.

The fault is mine, I said in close, I must possess a fatal quirk

There was no song I would not sing-no task I thought to shirk

So something must be wrong with me because I could not make this work.

Fear not, Dear Child, I’ve brought you here so finally you can see

My call was not to bondage-My call is to set you free

I’ve called you not unto a place but for you to walk with Me.

How can I know for sure?, I asked. On what do I depend

for certainty I’ve heard aright? That You will call me ‘Friend’?

Fear not, He said a second time, I’m with you to the end.

One more thing-I hesitated-when will this race be won?

I want to understand everything but they say it can’t be done.

Fear not, He said a third time, for you and I are One.

I stand Faithful. I stand True. I alone will lead

I will also walk beside you-I will meet your every need

I will slake your thirst with living water-on rock honey you will feed.

I put my hand in His and He lifted me up from the ground

and onto difficult and winding paths with His voice the only sound

I hear as we walk along and no more strange gods have I found.

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Juxtaposition

09 Tuesday Jun 2020

Posted by Kate in Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing

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Blog, Blogging, Daily Strength, Inspiration, Jesus, Jesus Follower, Poet, Poetry

Despair

The Waters rage

I am cast adrift

With no buoy to tell me where I might be

Nothing beneath me to anchor me

I see nothing but the tempest

I wait for the eye of the storm

But there is no peace, no calm

I call out but no one hears my voice

This battle is lost-I will sink

For my strength already fails

And no hand is extended toward me

Hope

He is a Man of Suffering

He is Acquainted with Sorrows

He has felt all my pain

All my despair

All my anguish

Before I felt it myself

For I have been His

From the Foundation of the World

He strengthens me

I withstand the storms

For He has pledged Himself to me

And I am never alone

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Walking in the Way

25 Monday May 2020

Posted by Kate in Poetry, Walking in the Way, Writing

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Blog, Blogging, Inspiration, Jesus, Jesus Follower, Poet, Poetry, Walking in the Way

Crossroads

I stood once at a crossroads with two paths laid before me

There were no signs to mark them or guides that I could see

To help me choose which path to walk and show me which way I should go

But I heard two voices call to me; one was Loud and one was Low.

The Loud voice called me one way and said great things to me

Promising to make me everything I thought I could be.

The Low voice said nothing more but to call me by my name

And I knew that if I chose that path I’d never be the same.

But what I would be I didn’t know and no promises were made

And as I stepped onto the first path I heard the Low voice fade.

The path I chose seemed bright and easy, the going never hard

And yet I often stumbled; I was bruised and sometimes scarred.

I did not turn back from the path that foolishly I’d chosen:

I threw my life away and my body was left broken.

I lay there on the path sobbing ‘midst my pain and shame

And then, oh so softly; I heard a Low voice call my name.

With gentle hands He lifted me and held me safe and sound

Next to His heart He healed me and I was no longer bound

To the Death that I had lived in for now Grace had been imparted

And though I knew He loved me; He set me down where I had started.

I stood at that same crossroads with two paths laid before me

There were no signs to mark them or guides that I could see

To help me choose which path to walk and show me which way I should go

But I heard two voices call to me; one was Loud and one was Low.

I now longed for the Low voice and determined not to fail

I stepped forward onto the path confident I would prevail.

But the Trickster lay in wait for me and seduced me with his lies

And while I thought I was obeying Him; it was the Evil One in guise.

I fell once more to my knees with shame and broken heart

Sure He would not take me back: we could not be more far apart.

That nothing between the two of us would ever be the same

But as my tears slipped down my cheeks; I heard Him call my name.

Once more with utmost gentleness He held me in His hands

Rescued me from whence I’d come and from my enemy’s plans.

He strengthened me, restored me, and though around me His love flowed

I found myself at a familiar place; having again to choose a road.

I stand once more at a crossroads with two paths laid before me

There are no signs to mark them and no guides that I can see

But I know the voices on them that call for me to follow

And I will not be led astray again; for those promises are hollow.

I will strive to hear that gentle voice that will never force nor trick me

But simply calls me further on to glories I can’t yet see.

I trust Him to keep my feet firm and stable as I walk

That He’ll be my provider; my protection and my rock.

I know that I will stumble and at times completely fail

But I trust Him to hold and keep me as I push along this trail.

But I proceed with caution for I never want to hear

Any voice but His; though others sometimes sound sincere.

I have walked the path that leads to destruction and despair

I want not to set foot on it again and so my deepest prayer

Is that He would give me Wisdom on how to hear His voice

To listen clearly and to always make the wisest choice.

I want to continue forward and never be sent back

To that starting place I find myself when I’ve fallen off the track

I want the choice I’ve made to keep me still when I might roam

With my heart and mind fixed on Him as His Love guides me home.

 

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Gaining Strength As I Go

01 Friday May 2020

Posted by Kate in Writing

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Blog, Blogging, Health and Wellness, Healthy Living, Hiking, Inspiration, Inspirational Quotes, Nature, Out and About, Peace, Walking, Writer's Life, Writing

After a two year hiatus, I am back to blogging!  Before I made Renaissance Woman public again I went through all of my old posts updating, checking links, deleting (a lot of deleting) and I found it apropos that my final blog post in April of 2018 was about making forward progress even if it’s at a turtle’s pace.  Two years later and the theme of that post is still valid.

The last two years have been fraught with difficulty.  My biggest obstacle occurred at the end of 2018: a major surgery I spent what felt like all of 2019 recovering from.  My neighbor described his wife’s last surgery to me and said it is a fight to come back from such a thing.  I agree: it felt like a battle and it became obvious early on it wasn’t one I was going to win in a day.  My first post-surgery walk went no further than the mailbox on the corner of my block which is an embarrassingly short distance.  I’d love to say I made more progress the next day but I didn’t.  My recovery was one of two steps forward, three steps back, and then at last four steps forward.

It took months but I finally walked a full mile.  I even took a trip to the mountains with a friend in July of 2019.  I admit I was grateful for late snow storms that kept hiking to a minimum as I had overestimated my ability.  Still, I’m never one to turn down a chance to be in God’s Creation and I didn’t collapse during our hike at Fish Creek Falls. I call that victory!

Falls Two

I had to learn to be gentle with myself.  I am still learning to be gentle with myself because I have found that six weeks might be enough for incisions to heal but the rest of me is on my own clock.  I can do nothing to alter the speed of this passage of time.  All I can do is surrender and take one day at a time one step at a time.  I still wear the turtle pendant I mentioned in the last post and it has been a tangible reminder to me that any forward movement, even if it is just one step, is better than stagnation.

Stagnation is a terrible thing.  When I think of stagnation in a physical sense, I think of my lymphatic system.  This amazing system running through my body is so important for my health and yet it has no ability to move itself.  What do I mean?  The lymph has no heart to aid it as it moves upward through my body to my subclavian veins and thus relies on the motions of the muscles and joint pumps.  I must move or my lymphatic system is unable to do its job and my immune system suffers.  This pumping of my lymphatic system doesn’t require insanely difficult exercises. (I always think of Tae Bo.  Is that still something exercise lovers do?)  All I have to do is move a little bit throughout my day.

I found this quote:

“Life is never stagnation. It is constant movement, un-rhythmic movement, as we as constant change. Things live by moving and gain strength as they go.” ~ Bruce Lee

I think that’s beautiful.  “Things live by moving and gain strength as they go”.  There isn’t an aspect of my life I can’t apply that to: especially writing.  Writer’s speak of the flow of words and so I write to keep that flow constant.  I will write here on this blog, in my journal, in my notebooks, in my manuscript (manuscripts now-I had to put my series aside to conduct research on a few things and I’ve been working on a stand alone book since April of last year).  I write, I walk, I move to keep stagnation at bay.  I seek merely to gain strength as I go.

River

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Celebrating National Poetry Month

30 Thursday Apr 2020

Posted by Kate in Writing

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Art, Blog, Blogging, Nature, Peace, Poetry, Self-Acceptance, Self-Care, Walking, Writer's Life, Writing

The poem below is one of mine I’m posting for National Poetry Month.

It will tie into tomorrow’s blog post.

DSCF0109 (1)

 

Epiphany

Three miles-less will mean defeat

The gravel’s crunch beneath my feet

Each step propels me down the track

Yet I’m aware of all I lack

My body falters-lungs constrict

It fights against all I inflict

I answer all my pain with rage

My heart thuds-panicked-in its cage

I will not fail. I won’t give in.

I won’t be beaten. I will win.

I stop.  I breathe.  Confront the myth-

Of Who am I competing with?

Begin Again.  Take it slow

Let lungs expand inside my chest

It matters not how fast I go

My racing heart returns to rest

My muscles slide beneath my skin

Feel sun and breeze upon my face

There is no race that I must win

I do not fight to keep this pace

A bird takes wing, soars overhead

So much is waiting to be seen

To my right, a flash of red

A single apple midst leaves of green

Now that I do not resist

I see all I would have missed.

 

 

 

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