A Rhymer Writes

Broken things Broken swings. Broken days,  Broken ways. Broken prayers, Broken cares. Broken things Won't break me. Have you ever allowed something small to hinder something big in your life? My personal prayer spot use to be this old, well loved swing in my front yard. It was a favorite spot of mine. I swang my babies on it when they were tiny. I've had lots of long conversations on it through the years. I've cried with friends and family there. I've laughed with loved ones on it.  I especially loved to sit there in the early morning with a cup of tea or coffee, my prayer journal and God. Several months ago it broke. Since then I've really been struggling to resurrect my prayer life. I have been mourning my "perfect" prayer spot and not allowing myself to move on. Sure, I've spent time in prayer since my swing broke but it hasn't been the same, concerted, focused effort that it use to be.  Why? Perhaps because we're such...

Memories are powerful things. They can bring emotions to the  forefront of your mind with the whiff of a familiar scent or the sight of a treasured object. A funny joke can make you remember someone dear who use to tell it. Something that was irritating to you becomes endearing in your memory of that person.  We lost my mother in law to cancer several years back. In the first few years the memories of her were so painful to me. I would often associate them with my loss. As the years have passed it has become so much easier to remember her with love, with a chuckle, with the fondness that we shared. Losing her was losing my best friend. It was hard to sort through all of the emotions. Those early memories, while painful, yes, were cathartic. They helped me to heal. And now that they aren't so raw they bring me great comfort. One memory that I love about my mother in law was her devotion to the discount store  Dollar Tree.  She loved to shop there. And she did...

Definition of  busy (Courtesy of Merriam Webster) busier ;  busiest 1 a   : engaged in action  : occupied   She's  busy  studying.   has enough work to keep him busy  for a while b   : being in use  found the telephone  busy 2 : full of activity  : bustling   a  busy  seaport 3 : foolishly or intrusively active  : meddling a  busy , fussy sort of man much concerned with regulating everything  —A. M. Young 4 : full of distracting detail: A busy design How many times do you use the excuse "I was too busy"?  I have been struggling lately with using this excuse too much when messing up, missing something, not paying enough attention to the people around me, forgetting to do something I said I would do or knew I needed to get done. Really though, it's just an excuse.  This kind of busy, the kind that I complain of being lat...

Pic courtesy of Eddi Van W via Flikr I've only just a minute, Only sixty seconds in it. Forced upon me, can't refuse it, Didn't seek it, didn't choose it, But it's up to me to use it. I must suffer if I lose it, Give account if I abuse it, Just a tiny little minute, But eternity is in it. Dr. Benjamin E. Mays This poem was recited by our coach at boot camp today and i thought I would share it here. It's so incredibly interesting how we perceive a minute. This morning, while we were (suppose to be) doing a plank for  a minute it seemed like the longest minute I've encountered all week. But later, while enjoying time with my family, 30 of them went by in a snap! How are you viewing your minutes; all the ones God gave you? Are you wishing some of them away? Wishing you were doing anything but the thing God placed you right in the middle of? When you have those encounters just remember this poem by Dr. Benjamin E. Mays. Eternity is in it. 

The Arrow And The Song I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where. For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in it's flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can follow the flight of song? Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Today, I got to spend some time with my best friend. I met her later in life, I was in my 30s and right in the middle of raising my kids. And the line of the poem holds so true for our relationship. "And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend." She was a gift to me then.  She continues to be a gift to me as she chooses to spend time with me and invest in my life. We speak the same language. We sing the same song. Today I nee...

Have you ever waited a long time for something, expected it to occur, actully even have it started and then, nope, you've got to wait for it to come to fruition? I had an issue like this today. I've waited 2 years for something I needed. This project was suppose to be completed today. For reasons out of my control it was only halfway done. I was told it would be finished tomorrow then received a text that it won't get completed until Monday.  You would think after waiting 2 years that 2 more days would be a piece of cake.... but nope! I find myself struggling so much with being patient for this to happen.  I think it all comes down to expectation. For the last 2 years I didn't expect it. I knew it was a long shot for this project to be taken care of. If it had happened I would have been pleasantly surprised. Joy filled, actually. But because I expected it to happen today, even though it actually IS happening, it's in the process, progress is being made, I...

When I was a young girl there wasn’t much I enjoyed about school. I was never one of those people who wished they could go back and live those school years again. I was pretty much happy to be finished with my school years. I didn’t enjoy the social aspects of school. While I loved to learn new things I didn’t like being told what to learn and when to stop learning something. I REALLY hated …….um, strongly disliked math (although I did have a SUPER COOL geometry teacher who made a huge impact on my life, but I digress). One thing I did LOVE with a super great passion was new notebooks! I loved the way they smelled. I loved the fresh, uncreased covers; I loved the way they felt in my hand and the smooth surface of the pages. But I think what I really loved most was the potential that they represented. Those new notebooks were like new beginnings. They lured me in with the idea that I could start over. I could start my school year however I wanted. I could be a success! I could acc...