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Showing posts from November, 2011

awaken me softly

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"I charge you, O daughters... do not stir up nor awaken love until it pleases." -Song of Songs I am young and I sleep resting in my Father's arms a garden enclosed a lily among thorns the secrets of my heart and the song I sing are still unshared, still only for my King Awaken me slow oh, waken me softly be gentle in persuading if you're winning my heart if I call you beloved, will you call me sister first if I let you in, I know that it will hurt I'm scared and I am stubborn but I'm drawn to your gaze this could be a holy fire I want to know, can you be wise? Awaken me slow oh, waken me softly be gentle in persuading if you're winning my heart

When

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the harvest-remains are tilled under and I find myself wondering, when did the summer night-noises hush their conversation? The soil feels barren in my fingers the warmth of life isn't there anymore and the chill in my lungs rests there in my palm, too yet the moonlit furrows stretch far beyond my view and I know this time of waiting dying clearing is beautiful too. The stars above, masked by transparent cloud they are the same and so is the Sower, the Potter. There is weeping in my heart when the Master plows deep when He clears the fields but as I sit here, hands and knees feel the earth and I know springtime, harvest and daylight will come in His good time. Sow for yourselves righteousness; Reap in mercy; Break up your fallow ground, for it is time to seek the LORD, till He comes and rains righteousness on you. -Hosea 10:12 He who continually goes forth weeping , bearing seed for sow ing, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him. -Psa

snapshot

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Melany, I watched the ABC 20/20 documentary. Here are my thoughts. If I mixed up details about the story it's because I watched it all once and then couldn't find it back again =) Yay for living in Canada where American broadcasts disappear because of copyright issues! What does ABC News know of the ache in your eyes cameras roll as tears slip down you tell the world that your Indian name, Stands Against The Wind, means that you are forever strong that you will never hang yourself in the closet again because your brother found you you say you are strong but I know I know in my heart it means hard I watch through the television lens as feathers and beads spin, dancing with a little girl's giggle and my heart, well, I can feel physical pain even writing this oh, my little ones... It's hard and it hurts to remember their giggles it still hurts the boy who tells us he wants to be the first Native American President and his cousin displays burn scars from a parent who wa

The wisdom of a child

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I am always a little caught off guard by the way kids think. Where and why does a kindergartener authoritatively tell me that brown makes blue? What does that even mean? And how does a kindergartener's mind take "Mrs. Ghelani" and turn it into "Mrs. Goliath"? It makes me happy to hear the same little boy always call any type of food "'licious" (e.g., while piling a toy train high with plastic food, "Miss Luimes, see all the 'licious in there!") And when another little boy painstakingly ('pain' is no exaggeration!) finishes coloring a picture of Jesus walking on water, then asks me how to spell 'Jesus', and I am expecting him to expound on the story of Jesus walking on the water, why am I so surprised to hear him announce "because Jesus built the ark"? Because, well kids will be kids. Delightfully confused and wonderful.