I make my hurt into an effigy of anger
Bales of straw grasped in each fist then stuffed into professorial trappings
Backward cap, impeccable credentials, but like other straw men
Lacking a heart
He sets up a contest just to kill the time
As though time were all we had
As though killing were something you could do with laughter as the
world falls into shadows
Recently I told this story to a friend facing loss–
It was a beautiful, uncharacteristically sunny day in Beaver, PA. There was a cop car parked a block from us, I suspected they suspected I might run to Canada with you. You had a cute Sesame Street ensemble on, replete with orange coat. Our church friends were there to help us through.
Your dad wept. He is not usually a crier. I did not. I did not believe at that time that you were going to be away more than a long weekend.
I knew God was gonna bring you back.
The pain that followed was truly unspeakable. I questioned my faith. How could I have been so sure that I would get you back?
I asked God
And He said
“You were not wrong to believe you would get her back, it was just your timeline was off a bit.”
I know you will always be God’s baby girl, because you have always been mine💗
Matthew 13:38-39 KJV
[38] The field is the world; the good seed are the children of the kingdom; but the tares are the children of the wicked one ; [39] The enemy that sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the world; and the reapers are the angels.
When I was younger I would read Catcher in the Rye on a yearly basis. First I was Phoebe’s age, then Holden’s and now I am old enough to know that the narrator sounds too much like a middle aged man with a Peter Pan complex.
But the catchers in the rye are older than me and J.D.
They are the injunction of a God who saves us all from the precipice hill of Golgotha. He tells me I owe him all and I agree. He tells me, come with me into the fields
And I go
I try to go
Eric Maria Remarque is often robbed of the proper attribution for the one-man’s-death quote.
One person’s death is a tragedy
In the same way that one star appears to blink, tiny in the vast night sky
But with both stars and humans,
individuals and myriads matter
Leaving slashing black holes when they have left us
Colossians 3:23-24 NIV
[23] Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, [24] since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.
Hey Little One,
I will fight for you
Let us write a book my loves where each of you gets at least a single word because, as the Good Book says words are signifiers of eternal things and you are nothing if not eternal.
This time only you and God will be able to decide what words your little lives will signify
And how much each is worth
Words for children
A progeny of words
Like the teeth of a dragon
Sewn beauty in the field
Where once was only sorrow
I woke up this morning to a picture of some ladies holding a bright pink sign which read LONG LIVE ROE V WADE.
And I thought–long live?
Then the WSJ wrote, in its explication of the situation, “Roe and its progeny…”
Could this be an accident? Could the ladies in their vagina cloches and the explicators at the WSJ both be blissfully unaware that the language of living and progeny is exactly what the unstoppable machine of Roe v. Wade has made untenable?
We have lost so many children through this law and its wake of carnage. There is nothing about Roe v. Wade which brings life or encourages progeny.
After all these years, let us at least make our language precise and appropriate when we talk about our deliberate legacy of death.
Review of the Emerging Evidence Demonstrating the Efficacy o… : American Journal of Therapeutics
— Read on journals.lww.com/americantherapeutics/fulltext/2021/00000/review_of_the_emerging_evidence_demonstrating_the.4.aspx
He never had a proper name, although for some reason I think someone called him Pedro. He sang Jesus loves me with gusto and I can still see him briefly free and more than a little outmanned, a green feathery bundle on the avenida on Fort Amador when he had sprung his cage
I scooped him up and took him home
No matter what happened after, he was mine
Carrying Light 