inspiration

What if…?

Yesterday’s guest speaker spoke about sabbath, rest. She and I had talked earlier in the week about the subject, since I was the one leading last night’s discussion. Our conversation has been on my mind ever since.

After our conversation, I went to my R.E.S.T. group therapy class. I don’t actually know what that acronym stands for. I just know it’s a class about Dialectical Behavior Therapy. I find it coincidentally interesting that immediately after a discussion of “rest” as part of faith practice I would attend a class titled “REST.”

In class we talked about seeking happiness inducing experiences as part of managing our mental health issues. I think the two go hand in hand: rest and pleasure.

Rest means different things to different people and things which bring pleasure to one person are not the same as what brings pleasure to another.

What we, as Christians do know is that the Sabbath is made for people, not people for the Sabbath, at least according to Mark 2:27.

Another name for The Most High, The Almighty, The Lord, God is Abba or Father.

Now, if you’ve experienced the trauma of religious abuse or an abusive or neglectful relationship with your own father, this will be difficult, painful, or impossible to relate to, which is totally understandable and reasonable. I’m not trying to force feed my beliefs or faith on anyone. I’m simply saying what it means to me. You have free will and get to decide for yourself. No judgment. All are welcome here.

I never had a relationship with my own father. Nor has my life ever afforded me much of a sense of safety, an ability to rest, or experiences of delight. I didn’t grow up attending church, and I have had religion used against me and to manipulate me. It’s taken me a long time and a LOT of mental health healing to get here.

So, I find myself contemplating what it means to be a child of God, resting in his arms, and taking delight in him.

What if our hearts’ true desires are to be known completely and loved unconditionally? What if being fully known and wholly loved is our refuge and our shelter? What if what allows us to rest and let go of the tension, worry, and fear is a sense of safety? What if being rested opens our senses to be able to experience delight? What if this is what it means to become “as a little child?”

What if we could believe that God lives in us? What if we believed God is love? What if we believed God encompasses time and eternity?

Would all of this mean that we have constant access to God, who can fill us with love, offer safety, shelter, and rest, who can enable us to experience delight in the eternity of each moment in time…even in the midst of all the trials and pain?

What if…?

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30 Day Writing Challenge – Days 4 & 5: Invention Calling

Day 4 – If you could invent anything, what would it be?
Day 5 – What do you feel drawn to or called to do?

Being called to write with a passion
Inspired to inspire others’ inspiration
My fingers can’t keep up with my thoughts
They feel clumsy and slow
Often stemming the flow and
Derailing the train

Being drawn to gather the words
Collect and curate them
Is a daunting task
How do I recall, select, and order
All the words written thus far

The invention I need is a brain adaptor
A tool to connect the mind
To facilitate the transmission of thought
Into finished form
A wireless way to rewire the gray matter

The invention calling to me
Would enable me to focus
Prioritize and organize
Categorize and plan
Edit and collate
With just a thought

A Bluetooth Writer’s Brain Sequencer

30 Day Writing Challenge Days 3…(a day late): Avoidance

Prompt: What are you avoiding but know you need to do?

Am I fearful of success or failure?
Too desperate for approval,
Too afraid of rejection,
So, the risk remains untaken.
My words are precious to me.
They’re reflections of my heart and soul.
I share them freely,
Hoping to get that “like,”
I need that dopamine hit.
It makes me feel worthwhile.
Not getting the “like” confirms my suspicion,
I’m not good enough and can’t measure up.
I’m told to publish
By others wanting to lift me up.
I’m worried I’m the girl whose voice is off key,
Falsely encouraged to sing up front,
Receiving ridicule, being shamed,
All because she wanted to share her passion.
Then there’s my failures of the past.
Betrayed by the faults in my brain.
Consumed by chaos,
Tainted by trauma,
I sabotage myself with overwhelm.
Focusing on the needs and wants of others
Is easier than dreaming for myself.
I’m so good at excuses to avoid what I want.
Am I afraid of failure or success?

30 Day Writing Challenge-Day 2: I Am Enough

Today’s prompt: What are you ready to give up or get rid of?

I Am Enough

These words and voices in my head
These critical, self-shaming thoughts
Haunting my days, disturbing my nights
Telling me I’m too weak and not tough

I’ve been told and it’s been said
To stop “shoulding” myself with “oughts”
Quit beating myself up in one-sided fights
Letting go of these things is rough

Let go I must, that I may move ahead
Move forward knowing I’m not ersatz
Release these burdens, soar to eagles’ heights
‘Til the fear and shame fall away as slough

Past time for the old me to be shed
Untangle the twists and knots
Put new dreams and hopes in my sights
I can do this, If I believe I’m enough

©️ 2019 lem

lettrs Writing Prompt: Fairytale Life

Fairytale • Patience • Book

Have patience to see
The shape of the fairytale
Forms our book of life

Villains and heroes
In both our lives and others
We fight and we love

Painful tragedy
Leavened by light comedy
In mundanity

Plotting out our lives
Navigating twists and turns
Writing the chapters

Living a series
Events fortunate and not
Learning the moral

Our book of life formed
The shape of the fairytale
Builds patience to be

©️ 2019 lem

Writing Prompt: August Scrawls Day 6

New Growth

One by one, like clearcut trees

My defenses crashed down

Leaving me on my knees

The Rowan, my self-expression

The Oak, my stability

The Alder, my strength and passion

The Holly, my objectivity

The Ivy, my determination

The Hazel, my creativity

Upended and torn asunder

All seemed broken and felled

Weighted, and buried under

All sense of self dispelled

Despairing and depressed

Yet, an essence upheld

My defenses, my trees

Turned and pointed

A protective abatis

Caged and kept safe

Against advancing dangers

My heart, a waif

Wandering without a home

I ran from place to place

I continued to roam

‘Til I stopped running

And faced my destruction

Confronting my cunning

I could not heal

I could not grow

I could not feel

Now, new seeds are planted

New roots have grown

A new peace has been granted

I am made anew

By my Lord and Savior

Through no one but You

Writing Prompt:

August Scrawls – abatis

Writing Prompt: August Scrawls Day 5

Faith Exploration

The shopkeeper looked up from the book she’d been perusing, The Christian Witch’s Handbook: Solitary Practitioner’s Edition by H. Fuller Hutchinson. It was a familiar sight she beheld: A younger woman, perhaps in her late 20’s or early 30’s, with a furtive demeanor and brightly curious eyes.

Having decades of experience, she innately understood that the young woman wanted the shopkeeper to be aware of her presence, but didn’t want direct attention.

“Welcome. Feel free to explore. I’ll be here if you have any questions.”

The young woman flashed an uncomfortable smile of acknowledgement. Then meandered down a wall aisle of books the shopkeeper knew to be for the curious and those seeking to learn about the various paths and practices. This aisle also contained all the basic ritual items one would need or want if they were just starting out.

She observed the young woman thumb through a couple of books, then put them back. Next she looked at the tools for ritual and practice. Her confusion was clear as she picked up both a dual edged dagger and a single edged knife seemingly more suited to using in the kitchen. She grabbed one of each and approached the counter where the shopkeeper stood.

“Will you help me understand the difference between these two knives?” She pleaded, overwhelm evident on her face and in her voice, as she carefully rested both blades on the counter.

“Certainly dear, I’m quite pleased to do so. The smaller blade has sharp a edge on each side and ends in a sharp point. The handle is has a hand guard between the handle, called a hilt, and the blade. It’s commonly known as a dagger. It is always used as a ceremonial or ritual tool and never actually cuts anything physical, it is strictly used for ritual. It is called an athame.

The second one here is a bolline. It’s also ceremonial, however, it’s also more of a practical tool, much like a kitchen knife. Notice the single edge blade and lack of a hilt.

Do you have any other questions?” the shopkeeper inquired.

The young woman tentatively replied, “Well, you see, I’m a Christian and even though I know church tradition considers witchcraft and paganism sins and heresy, I’ve come to believe some of the practices actually honor and serve God’s purpose of loving the world.”

Suddenly the shopkeeper understood there had been a divine and mystical reason for her to have chosen the book she’d been perusing just before the young woman came in.

“You know,” she began to explain, “There are Christian Witches. Here, perhaps this book can help you on your path.”

“Thank you sooo much,” the young woman exclaimed. “I was so confused and kind of scared when I came in today. You have been so kind and helpful. I’ll take the book and wait to decide which blade I’ll need. How much do I owe you?”

“I am always happy to help. Let me know how else I can help once you’ve read the book. That will be $15.”

As she placed the book in a bag, she grabbed her business card, inserted it in the front cover. Then handed it to the young woman, who left the shop with a more confident and purposeful demeanor than she had entered with.

The shopkeeper smiled to herself, mentally saying a prayer of gratitude for the encounter and that the young woman finds the path for her.