Skin on a Snake | ja… on the Lesson of the Rosebus…
“I want you to always believe that you can do more than me because you can.
You have a voice that can turn heads,
you have a heart that can break down walls,
you have brains that can helps others,
you have a passion for kids when I think they are obnoxious,
you have a huge school and no college loans to pay off,
you have a huge missions field where you can make a difference everyday in so many peoples lives.
You have a smile that can melt a frozen heart into warm butter,
you have gorgeous hair that glimmers in the sunlight like the autumn leaves and makes people think of good times,
you have big beautiful eyes that say I Care!
You are so beautiful and so gifted/ talented and God has such big plans for you,
He is just telling you to wait a little while and trust Him.
Hang in there, read your favorite passage and ask Him where He wants you and what He wants you to do in this difficult time and situation.
He has a way better plan for you and closing the door on RA right now is just telling you that is not your path even though you wanted it.
He has a better plan for your life!
It’s not easy but you are a pro at hard things!
You put up with me and that’s definitely not easy!”
Everyone needs a pick me up sometimes. I’m just thankful to have a sister who knows exactly what to say.
I Love You, Sis!
No Matter what’s happening there is one way I can always brighten my day.
I Look Up.
Do you ever notice how unique the sky is?
Everyday it looks different…
See the trees,
the rain and snow,
and just appreciate this moment.
This is a moment in time that you will never live again, so why not take a moment to admire it?
There is it.. All around us everyday.
We pass it going to work,
hurrying to school,
and just running errands.
It’s always there, but how often do we take a second to enjoy it?
So next time you’re feeling down, look outside.
The sky will always be there with something new to show you.
The birds will always be singing a new tune,
The trees will always be growing.
You Don’t have to miss it.
All you have to do is Look Up.
Meetings, Classes, Homework,
Friends, Family, New People,
Smiles, Make-up, Dresses.
Long Days, No Sleep, Blank Pages,
Fear, Distrust, Confusion,
Tears, Running Mascara, Sweatpants.
Trying to keep it all together is a lot harder than it looks.
If only it were socially acceptable to be a Hot Mess.
When you look at a rose bush, why do you only see the thorns?
Why do you not see the beauty within the long thin spears that guard the delicate buds?
Why do you think thorns are but a flaw to the beautiful rose?
Are flaws not what makes a rose beautiful?
Without these “flaws” no rose would ever exist, for it would surely be eaten before it had a chance to bloom.
Are flaws not the creators of beauty?
Why then do you mock the flaws of the rose?
Why then do you dismiss a rosebush?
Are we not all roses encompassed by thorns?
Are we not all beautiful because of our flaws?
Why so many tears?
Why so many lies?
Why so many years?
Why so many tries?
Why the struggles?
Why the pain?
Why the deception?
Why the rage?
Tell me why.
Tell me the core.
Tell me the truth.
Tell me the heart.
Tell me the root.
Tell the story.
Tell the shame.
Tell the hatred.
Tell the blame.
Speak for the lost.
Speak for the heartbroken.
Speak for the innocent.
Speak for the hopeless.
Speak for love.
Speak for hope.
Speak for courage.
Speak for trust.
Live for the truth.
Live for the relief.
Live for the hope.
Live for the belief.
Live for joy.
Live for pain.
Live for loss.
Live for gain.
I wrote this song a while back and wanted to share it. It’s called:
I’m as free as a bird,
Oh, I’m as free as a bird.
I got no cage to hold me back. (x2)
Oh Lord, they try to hold me down,
oh yes, they try to clip my wings.
So I fly away.
Yes, i fly away,
To a greener pasture,
A bluer sky.
No more snares
To snatch me from the sky.
‘Cause I fly away.
Yes, I fly away,
To a brighter light,
To a taller tree.
No more mockers
To shout at me.
I fly away, yes, I fly away.
‘Cause I’m as free as a bird,
I’ll fly away.
Above the trees, beyond the clouds, in a place I only dream of, there lies a lovely bubble of glassy wonder, so small and fragile that a simple wisp of wind can crack it, scattering its millions of shards, spilling them down onto earth where they fall onto unsuspecting people. The bit lands softly onto their unsuspecting victims and dissolves, spreading through their entire bodies, but lingering nowhere but the heart. It stays there for as long as it can, dwelling in peace, only torn away when the person no longer accepts it. When it turns to a burden or they simply choose to no longer believe. Then it leaves them. It slides slowly off them to the ground where is lays still for a time, dying. as it passed it whispers to its skyward home, a whispering wind that will break a new bubble and send a million shards into the world for every one that dies. it is like it never dies, but multiplies in number, infecting a many as it can for as long as it can. But now something is happening. some have become immune to these little pieces that come to them, a gift that they refuse. It does not sink in and dwell in their souls, reviving their desolate parts. It no longer keeps them going on their paths. it simply bounces off and shatters into a million more shards too minuscule to be noticed. it had no dying breath, as it was never able to live. It simply was, but no longer is. What is happening? The shards turn to dust and the people are left untouched. All but a few accept this gift. They relish each shard and hold it tight until the next comes along. They let it grow, overwhelming them until it dictates the very way they live their lives. Those few have such happy lives, what a pity to those that miss out. Why do they bounce off? A choice. It is their choice to accept or decline. Some have left it for good, others say it is fable. Some chose logic. Some chose realism. Others, could no longer handle it. Some have lost it. At least that is what they believe. They believe it is what they must find, so they search, but it cannot be found. They focus on what they must do to get it so they miss it entirely. And still others have left it. it didn’t work for them. They didn’t get their way or they lost sight of their goal. They believe it is a waste of time. A gimmick, a pauper’s amusement, a tall tale. But it is not. It is as real as they are, perhaps more so. It is what all great men have and what low men crave. It is a task master that many are happily slaves to. It is the one thing that quiets fear and stands up to disaster. What is this mystical thing I speak of? I speak of hope.
A last goodbye
Books to read
Carts to move
Dressers to fill
Grades to make
Knowing the answers
Learning the rules
Pretending to understand
Quitting a team
Rejoining the choir
Singing for some
Talking to all
Using my eyes
Viewing the change
Wishing for more
eXalting new fames
Yearning for truth
Zealous for grace