For Breezy

Before there were boyfriends,
there were best friends.
When the man comes,
the best friends slip into the shadows of life,
to emerge only when God sees a need for more than man.
She translates the madness
that comes from man
and calms the confusion of dreams.
With confidence charged and love explained,
she sends me back to my man.

God's Love

The world would have us believe that love has many meanings, or degrees, ranging from common love like "I love this movie" to the profound eternal love that is described in John 15:13 "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." These degrees of love are a construction of mankind and are not of God. There is one love and the rest are all substitutes. God gives us the ultimate example of eternal love in John 3:16 "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." In return for this love, God does not ask for equal reconciliation. He will not require us to pay our debt in full and, with a stamp of completion, send us on our way alone. It can never be fully repaid. What, then does this say about eternal love? Godly love does not ask to be repaid. A beautiful description of Godly love is in Moroni 7:45, "And charity suffereth long, and it kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things." This Godly love is unknown to the world. The media displays love as nearly the opposite of this charity. Verbal abuse is popular, along with jealousy and disloyalty. Charity also takes a backseat to pride, lust, and fame. It is believed and portrayed that love requires a certain amount of dishonesty, because they claim the truth would destroy a relationship. Perhaps the worst deception of all is that true love does not endure to the end. Divorce is more common, in media, than marriage. God called me specifically to be a lover of his children. When he said "Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God (1 John 4:7)," love changed from the mock love that is Hollywood romance to something that will exist eternally after all the world and it's false ideals are forgotten.

My Fatal Flaw

The last few weeks I have been reading the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series. In it, they often emphasize the fatal flaws of the characters. It made me think a lot about my own flaws and which one could lead to my destruction. I think, right now, my pride and independence is that flaw. I have a seemingly innate need to prove that I am a capable and strong adult. Lately, I have felt that, the more I desire to be independent, the more I am forced to depend on others. For example, financially, I have struggled and struggled. I do not feel that it is a result of my own frivolity, but simply because of a series of unexpected necessary expenses. My car broke down several times in the last six months. I have had to pay for a new computer. I have had to borrow money for school because I no longer qualify for enough financial aid to cover tuition. None of these were my fault, but I feel like, in a way, these trials were God’s way of teaching me that it is not only okay, but good to rely on the people who love me for help. Satan’s war is against God’s plan. That plan is centered on family relationships and eternal marriage. It only makes sense that Satan would use my fatal flaw, my desire for independence, to convince me that relying on another person, especially a man, is dangerous and weak. He uses society and media to plant the idea that women should be strong masters of men. A lot of the TV shows I watch portray women as single, or divorced. These women control men like they are lesser intelligences. Their tenderness is repressed, that tenderness that is God’s gift to women, that makes women special and sacred. Besides TV, school, work, and even my own family, all encourage strength and independence. I remember my dad saying to me one day at the dinner table “You’re crying again? Why don’t you just stop?” when I had had a really emotional day. I know guys aren’t wired to cry over every stupid thing like girls are, so he probably didn’t understand what that meant to me. Still, I felt like he was telling me to repress my emotions and don’t let people see my weaknesses. That way, I can deal with them on my own in private. At work, even though I love my job, one of the first things I learned was that the students can sense my mood and they can eat me alive if I show weakness. Living with roommates was really hard on me because I didn’t ever have a completely private place where I could relieve my emotions.

Cursed

The harshest curse is loneliness.
Which curse you inflict upon me.
I am certain this never was your intention,
and, if you knew, you would curse yourself
to remove it from me.
It is the harshest curse, I’d say
because it feeds on independence,
sucks dry self-esteem,
and leaves the cursed empty
with no one to witness their suffering.
Still, it is better, I know
to endure loneliness
than to love without heart
or to lie to my own mind
by telling it
that I don’t need you anymore.

The Irony About Loss

The irony about loss
is that it is more common
than it is unique.
And hate
and anger
are common too
pretending to be the “lesser evil”
judgmental.
If I could
I would retreat
to my own world
and remove myself
from caring.
That way, I could feel no pain at loss,
reciprocated anger,
or shame from being hated;
and I would feel no judging eyes,
and hear no criticizing words,
and never have to feel the betrayal
of a loved one’s disappointment
in me

Train Tracks

Days like these ought to be remembered. They are beautiful in their simplicity. We drove to that place we used to go. Do you remember? We went once, and talked for hours about stars and God. That, too, was a night to cherish. But this time, we didn’t talk, not really. We just drove. The roads there are dirt and rocky. Today there were patches of snow making some of the roads unsafe. We laughed a bit, but not as much as we used to. It felt like a little bit of the old us was coming back, but that may have been my feminine-romantic imagination. The sky was fantastic up there. It reflected in the lake making it shine silver. “I should have brought you up here when we were dating.” you said. I would have liked to hold hands and kiss you with the silvery lake and gold mountains in the background. I try to hide it, but secretly I’m a romantic sucker. You took me somewhere new today. You used to do that a lot. I would ask “Where are we going?” You would reply, “It’s a secret.” Then you would take me to such astounding places and we had wonderful, ordinary adventures. It’s been a long time since you brought me somewhere new. I’ve missed it so much. The new place was a bridge on an exempted railroad track. I’m sure you know that I have an unexplainable connection to trains. I’ve never been on one personally, but maybe that is why I am so fascinated by them. Still, I don’t think you were thinking of that when you brought me there today. I think you were thinking that you were bored and it was a cool place to explore. I don’t think that you think of me that deeply. Regardless of your intentions, I am grateful. I can only describe the place as immaculate. The tracks stretched on into the distance with the browning over-grown weeds creeping between the railroad ties. I had to jump, skipping every other tie to keep up with your long strides. Occasionally, I would forget to pay attention to where I was stepping and I would land on a sharp rock instead of the soft wood. At one time, you would be concerned every time I gasped in pain, even if it was just a simple stubbed toe. Today, even though I hurt myself three or four times stepping on rocks, or tripping, or twisting my ankle a little awkwardly, you didn’t ask if I was okay. You didn’t worry or even turn to wait for me to catch up. Perhaps you didn’t notice. Still, back then, you would have noticed. I sat on the bridge looking down through the gaps in the railroad ties. Beneath was the new railroad. You told me that your friend and his girlfriend brought you there. You said, “Arielle told me they were here when a train came once.” I would have loved to lie on that bridge and feel the rush of the train passing beneath me. You left for a while. I decided it would be best not to ask where you went. While you were gone I listened to the river nearby. The sun was setting and the sky was a beautiful orange and purple. I felt like I was above the world and from where I lay between the rails of the train track, I felt like I was hidden from everything but God. When you came back I said, “If I were a homeless person, I think I would live right here.” You laughed at me. I guess it was funny. Still, I live and work and go to school in a city. Occasions to be unseen in the open outdoors are few. There is so much pressure to be with people, to make friends and learn from new people. Often I don’t have time to get to know myself. Thank you, Michael, for giving me a moment for me. Today was a perfect romantic scene which could have been produced in any number of chick-flicks. But the reality of it was the only romance was between me and the scene. At one time I would have taken advantage of such a beautiful scene and tried to make a childish move on you, even though I insisted I wasn’t into that sort of girly crap, but now, I think love isn’t about romance. That’s just the way it gets started. Love is more about everyday life. If I only loved you when you brought me to beautiful places and told me romantic lines that would be superficial love. You know, even though you don’t love me back anymore, I still think about you every day. You don’t give me a lot of attention, but it seems like when I’m finally ready to give up and let go of my love for you, you give me a tiny taste of what you used to feel for me. The memory of it keeps me holding on. Perhaps, someday, you’ll stop giving me those tastes, and I’ll move on. For now, though, I’m simply grateful. You’ve given me a good life.

Label ME

Who sees me?
Upon seeing, what do they say I am?
Or what have they thought of me
to stop them from looking?
It cannot be
that essence is a construct
For I am
When I am alone.
If I were defined
by what people see of me
or even what I see in myself
I would not exist
when I am alone
and not defining myself.
But I feel myself.
I hear myself
speak an un-language.
A throb of essence surfaces
when I am alone
or when my spirit feels
another loved spirit pass by.
Because that essence has no language
it cannot be a construct,
for language is the construct
that all other generalizations are built from.
But I AM
With no categories
No labels
No words