Four poems

CHANGES

When thirteen came around
My little clown
Turned into a body full of anger
Full of happiness
Full of mixed up unhappy feelings
That made the whole family
Step Back.

When thirteen came around
This young boy
Turned into a body full of emotions.
Full of different words
Full of mixed up feelings for girls
That made the whole family
Hold our Breath.

When Thirteen came around
My oldest son
Turned into a wonderful man-boy
Full of different actions
Full of mixed up love for family
that made everyone
Swell up in Pride. written in 1987

ARMS CONTROL

He knocked down a picture
When he walked through the door.
As he turned around to pick that up
The bookcase fell on the floor.
He said "excuse me" as he picked up the books.
The rest of the family just gave him exasperated looks.

He finished picking up the books
And sat down with a sigh,
But when he did that
His long arm hit his brother as he walked by.
He said "excuse me" as he got hit upon the head,
Then decided he'd be safer snuggled up in bed.

So, my youngest son climbed the stairs
(Only falling up them one time)
As he opened his bedroom door
We nearly lost our minds.
Even though he tried his best to not make a mess
He hit the chest of drawers...which is now drawer-less.

Mind you, he tried hard not to be careless,
It's just that at this age
Parts of him seem out of proportion...
Maybe he should be in a cage
Until we believe this growing has slowed
Or at least until he can prove he has arms control. written in 1987

MELISSA
My daughter you remind me of a butterfly
You are neither here nor there.
You flutter around seemingly aimlessly
I don't think you even know where.

My daughter you remind me of a lion.
You are untamed and loud.
You stalk around your room...trapped
Your one voice sounds like a crowd.

My daughter you remind me of a cricket
Your voice goes on and on
You jump from one subject to another
And you always think you're being stepped on.

My daughter, you remind me of me
Your insecurity and your doubt.
You have grown up so much this year
But there's still so much to talk about.

My daughter you remind me of a dream
I had once when I was young...
You have the ability to make dreams come truth
And this one...I want to belong.
written 10/18/1986


HOPE AFTER HELL
In my life you reared your ugly head.
I felt I would be better off dead.
You took every emotion I ever had
Mixed them with waste and everything that is bad.

You took my heart and broke it in two
You took my eyes and made them blue.
You took my breath and left me void.
You took my emotions and with them you toyed.

In my life I fought you tooth and nail.
And I am around today, my story to tell.
How I went from heaven to utter hell
Then from hell to heaven...now I am well.

I took my heart and gave it to God.
I took my eyes and read the Word.
I took my breath and used my voice
I took my emotions and recovered from divorce.
October 1984

Who I Am...written around 1984

My talent is hereditary.
My hair is colored by a leading manufacturer.
My teeth are owned by the bank.
My eyelashes belong to Aziza.
My face belongs to Mary Kay.
My lips are miscellaneous pink.
My body is molded by Whitman Samplers.
The bounce in my step is Reebok.
My personality has been tempered by divorce.
The love in my heart has been nurtured by three children.

Stuff

So, I fasted yesterday. I know...we're supposed to fast in our closets. But all my closets are full of stuff...and there was no place to be quiet.

Actually, I fasted for some dear friends...fasted for health and healing for Cody and Amy. What did I fast? Most people fast meals... And I guess I could have done that...but instead I fasted something that has become a habit to me....and a bad habit I might add....almost like an addiction...so I fasted for one day...away from the Internet and from the TV.

It was a day of cleansing....not only cleansing my mind of the mindless crap...but also cleansing ....

I found myself cleaning closets. Going through memories since 1960. Wondering why I had kept some for so long. I found a letter I wrote to my oldest son...WAY before I was a Christian... and it was obvious by the way I wrote. I had written little things he had done as a child. I'm sure he's the only one I had time to do that with...since two more children came in 4 years...and it seems I tend to let thoughts pass without writing things down. I wish I had written more things....as I read the note I had written to my son, it brought back memories that somehow have been locked up in the nether regions.

I'll put the memories in a scrapbook...because the letter just isn't written well...and there are some things I wrote that don't make any sense....and then the feelings of anger I felt over my crumbling marriage are entwined within the lines of this letter written to a little child. And none of my children...even as adults... need to read about the death of their parents' marriage.

But going through some other papers, I found poems I had written. Poems I wrote as I was healing from a childhood that never existed....poems of anger as memories began to emerge....poems of resignation and renewal....poems of of mediocrity, of hope.

As I read the poems that came from deep within the abyss of an emerging woman, I cried. I cried for the little girl lost in a woman's body. I cried for the deep-seated anger of someone trying to understand....and I rejoiced as the pages of words became full of hope, forgiveness and honor.

Was that me....did I really pen all these words? Yes it was me...and as I read each poem, I knew exactly where I was at the time...the place I wrote it....the mindset as I allowed the pen to draw my emotions into words.

In later blogs I will share some of those poems....poems of a sad woman/child...poems of a woman who had not yet found the Love of her life (Isaiah 54) and poems of her Husband's redeeming love. Some of the poems are very revealing as a young woman of 28 or 29 watching a man 10 years younger....and silently wishing..... :-)

Some poems are full of anger for a mother whose bitterness and fury cut like a razor through the soul of a woman looking for love in all the wrong places.

and poems of humor.... such as:

I have three children
who often have battles
One is quiet...one is loud....one rattles.

(each of my children know exactly which one they are!)

God allows us to fast to come closer to Him....to partner with The Mind of Christ. As we fast, He reveals not only the needs of those we fast for...but also...our needs. Rejoice...He ain't finished with us yet!

Awake

I woke up too early this morning.
In my mind, words and thoughts run like a gerbil on an exercise wheel.

I'm not sure what makes my mind work overtime like it does. I cannot change the world...or even change someone's mind with my thoughts that keep me awake.

I worry about people I love.

I grow concerned about decisions made---and decisions not made.

So I sit here in the early morning...really not wanting to drink a cup of coffee just in case sleep wants to join me...but on the other hand, the sun is rising...and maybe I should just act like it's any other work day.

Coffee is winning out. Now all I need is a maid to fix it for me....

Sistas

Circumstances beyond our control, dictated a separation of sisters over twenty-two years ago.

I know it sounds mysterious...yet it is the unfortunate foundation of generational sin that caused my sister to make the ultimate sacrifice.

A mother's first priority should be the protection of her children. My sister and I were not afforded that privilege.

Forms of abuse never delved into; ignorance on my mother's part; her disdain for the female sex, and major conflicts in raising two girls and two boys, caused four children to drift apart....as sisters and brothers and ultimately as friends.

Fortunately in my life, God has placed some wonderful 'sisters in spirit' to walk alongside me as I dotted the pathway that has been before me. Fortunately there is Kerma, a forever friend. She and I met in 1981, and throughout several moves to several states, throughout death, divorce, vacations, phone calls, robberies, nursing school, vet school, jobs and my children...we've remained very close.

Sometimes it will be two months before we talk on the phone again...and yet, our conversation begins where it left off the last time we talked. I had the privilege of introducing Kerma to Christ several years ago....and we are truly sisters in spirit.

Denise, or as I lovingly call her "Benise". She lovingly calls me Quita Juanita Ouida....Denise and I became prayer partners in 1985. We were both new Christians. Me and my three children...she as a single woman with no children. She worked in an attorney's office, me in an auto repair shop. We had nothing in common but our love for the Lord....and yet He strategically placed us side by side...and we began a "ministry" of intercession that has continued for all these years.

She married and moved to Charlotte, NC while I stayed in Louisiana. And yet...God in His loving wisdom, brought me to Asheville, NC...and now she and I are two hours away...and just a phone call, email or text away. I love her as if she and I were born in the same family. She is definitely my sister...in spirit... and I love her as if she were my own sister.

I had been 'thrown to the wolves' employment-wise in 1992. While on vacation from the 'shop' as our family lovingly called it...my dad sold the business and I came home with no job, a mortgage, car payments, three teen aged children and absolutely no employable skills. I went to "Job-Link" and got my first church-lady job. I was the financial assistant for the Business Administrator of a large UMC in Shreveport. Neecee Blackwell was the graphic artist for the church. She was an ADHD untamed totally throwing caution to the wind woman. Under normal circumstances you would think a cautious, scared mom of three....being thrown into a 'lions's den' of the unknown and a spunky freedom loving married mom of a 2 year old would never have a thing in common....

But wow...did we ever . And still do. I needed and need her love of life. There is NOTHING boring about anything she does. She finds the exciting in grains of sand... a shard of color from a prism ... a hummingbird... Even now as she closes in on fifty years old, she still finds the excitement and wonder of life and living. She lives life abundantly and unabashed and unashamed. She grasps life like we gasp for air after running a marathon. She is a free spirit and totally opposite of me.....and yet....

Neecee needs my stability....she needs my ear when decisions need to be made. I taught her how to balance her checkbook....she taught me to love life. I taught her to ponder....she taught me to trust. We started a conversation in 1992, and it continues today. We are never far away from one another...thanks to the age of communication. I love her...and need her...and the comfort of our 'ya ya sisterhood' continues after all these years.

Christy... another 'church lady'. She and I met in 1999. We really did not know one another well, until she was thrown into a black cauldron we unaffectionally call "FF". Since that time, she and I have relied on phone calls, cards and her infrequent visits to "home." She respects my opinions (and I always have one) and I admire the fact that she loves the Lord constantly, continually and with a passion most people only dream of. I love Christy...because I can be totally honest with her. I know I can trust her with the deepest darkest dankest secrets of my soul...and she prays for me and loves me. She knows she can be 'real' with me...no hidden emotions....and we both carry these burdens for one another ... with love and affection.

Jill...sweet loving friend. She trusts God and lives like He's her husband. She prays and I know God listens. She and I met several years ago at work. We've become friends....good friends. We've have the type of relationship that is one of comfort....ease....we're happy just being together eating, shopping, driving, hiking. She loves me and I know it. She accepts me and I feel it, she cares and nurtures. I know I can call on her at anytime...day or night...and she'll be there for me. And she knows the same about me. She loves God with a fiery passion....I love her because she stabilizes me. She keeps me on my toes spiritually, emotionally, physically and mentally...I suppose that means she keeps me well-rounded. We can talk about anything...and have. I have shared raw emotions with her...and there's a picture in my mind of two women...one has her hand on the other's shoulders...that would be Jill...she has my back...there is comfort in knowing she is there.

Janie....we met in 2004. Just a few short years ago...and yet...it continues. I knew we'd be instant friends when I met her. She has so many attributes I only hope to aspire to. She is classy, sassy, bold and loving. She and I share so many of the same life-stories. Thrown into single-parenthood while our children were so young. Janie laughs. She laughs and loves life. And then she laughs again. She is sanquinelly happy, too....and I enjoy being in her presence just because she allows me to see things a different way... with the smile of God. She has moved to Texas...and just like my other forever friends...we started talking when we first met...and we still continue the conversation today. I love Janie...she has wisdom that is the glue that keeps me together. And I know that I too have the same affect on her.

And as I think of my friends...I have the privilege of adding my daughter into this mix. A loving, beautiful woman...almost 30. My youngest friend. Our relationship still is mother/daughter...and yet it is so much more than that. We can walk around in underwear together and not think twice about it...something none of my other friends have ever been afforded...(and please.... no pictures in the mind!) Mel and I have laughed so hard together that it blinded us...and yet we have been so angry at one another it blinded us again... and I love her. I think that my life would have been so empty without watching her grow into the woman of God that she is now. I worry about her in a way that is only afforded a bonded relationship. I try to nurture her and guide her in a bold way ... and sometimes in a pushy way...and yet she still loves me...because she knows I only want the best for her. We are comfortable with one another, and I believe she is the only friend that I would truly die for. She is my precious gift from God.

Each of these ladies, Kerma, Denise, Neecee, Christy, Jill, Janie and Melissa push me to be a better person. Each of them has an attribute that I desire to have in myself. And with each phone call, text, email or card...I think "I want to be like her when I finally grow up."

And now, God has allowed me to be reintroduced to my real sister. Norma. She and I met again for the first time in twenty two years on August 28, 2008. Between us, we have raised 6 children. She two girls and a boy, me two boys and a girl. She started having children late...me early. I'm not sure that we have anything in common except our love for Christ and our birth parents...but this one thing I do know... I want to begin today to have another forever sister...my real sister....

Wuv...twue wuv

I absolutely have loved the few days I've stayed at the Ray's home in Rochester Hills, MI. This morning the air is crisp, the grass is green and little Thatcher has a boo-boo. And when he gets hurt...he runs to mommy, daddy...and this morning...to whomever's arms were first...this morning it was Nana's.

Trust... I remember two years ago when Thatcher was just 3 years old. I had just come to Shreveport to watch the boys for a week while their parents flew to Rochester Hills to find a home. We went to my mom's home and as we walked toward the door, Thatcher reached his hands up for me to carry him. He hadn't seen me in months...yet he knew who he could trust.

Jack at age seven...handsome, full of energy and questions. We looked at a "secret hideout" that he had found underneath a huge tree. He climbed the stair steps of limbs as far up as he could. Trusting that the limbs would hold him. Then yesterday, he climbed a "new tree." As his daddy stood under the tree, Jack began his descent. Attempting to take the last step down, he asked his daddy to catch him. "Now don't drop me daddy" he said.

My son looked at his eldest and said, "Have I ever dropped you, son." Jack shook his head no and climbed down into his daddy's arms.

Beautiful, adorable Margaret. She trusts that the person holding her will feed, burp and hold her. She trusts that the person holding her will take total care of her every need. Her bottom lip quivers and pokes out when she believes her needs are not being cared for. And even if she cries to fight the sleep that overwhelms her, when she awakes from a nap, she loves and trusts that the same person who put her in bed will take care of her, change her diaper, feed her and cuddle her.

My sweet daughter in law cooks for us, cleans and nutures everyone in the home. My son makes sure all his family is secure and warm (or cool.) Both my daughter and I have felt so comfortable with the love and security afforded us....

...and then I think of Jesus' words in Matthew..."Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?"

How blessed I am to see this verse in action at my son's home. How blessed we are to see Jesus...with skin on.

What is perfect?

It's very quiet this morning, Monday, August 25 at 8:11 a.m. There's been a bit of stirring here in Rochester Hills, MI, but everyone has apparently climbed back under the covers for one more peaceful time of sleep.
I lie in bed pondering yesterday.

Pondering the smell of a freshly bathed baby girl named Margaret.
Pondering two rambunctious boys that never stop.
Pondering my oldest and youngest children playing computer games together and laughing.
Pondering 'scrappin' with my delightful, talented daughter in law
Pondering the delicious meals

And I believe right now.... this is perfect.

I hear four little feet pattering down the stairs and smile.

Another perfect day has begun.