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Showing posts with label overwhelmed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label overwhelmed. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

The Kitchen Table


yesterday, left behind,
with a table filled with yesterday,
thirteen orange juice bottles,
standing, side by side
filled with aging water
for the fish aquarium,
repotted geranium plants,
pruned from winter growth,
beginning to blossom,
a book and photograph,
a gift from a friend,
visited yesterday,
a plastic bag, filled with
an assortment of bandages
and supplies, a container
of Vaseline to cover
a recent skin biopsy,
a library book
to be returned,
3-hole punch paper,
in a wrapper, on its way
from storage to the office,
a home-made wristband
made from a sock
to hold gauze on the wrist,
but it didn’t work,
two more pieces
of the cut sock,
waiting to find its purpose,
an empty box of
Playtex Living Gloves,
extra long gloves, used
to wash dishes by hand
without getting the
wrist wet

one look at the table
with clutter overtaking,
stirred up within her
feelings of
overload
overtired
overstressed
overworked
rising up to
overflowing and
overwhelmed

needing rest from
a tiring day before,
she went to lie down
with thoughts and feelings
swirling through her
heart, mind, and soul,
filling her head
and all extra spaces,
with no place
to just be
free

and then,
she sensed
the Lord
speak to her,

Will you clear off
your table, please,
making room
for Me
and
will you share
a cup of tea
with Me?

she smiled at the idea,
went out to the kitchen
and looked again
at the mess,
scribbled a poem,
tired as she was,
and began to
prepare a cup of tea,
cleaned off a small
place on the table
and began to feel
real again,
in the present moment
of grace,
to spend time
with the Lord,
in spirit,
face-to-face,
with nothing
more important,
to distract her,
for those few
sacred moments
of time
together,
sitting at her
kitchen table,
in sweet communion,
with her Lord.

Precious Linda, c.2013

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Frozen in FEAR, Once Again


The door SLAMMED
and, once again,
the young child
froze   
in
fear
not knowing
what would happen next,

anticipating
shouting, yelling,
penetrating reprimands,
a cold shoulder with frozen silence,
sharp eyes of disapproval,
permeating everywhere,

filling her heart with
overwhelming terror,
leaving no room
for love,
mistakes, accidents,
or immaturity,

always promising disapproval,
sporadic expressions of love,
and the hopelessness of
never being fully accepted,
as her little,
immature
self,
but rather
annihilated,
in spirit,
once
again.

Years later,
she didn’t know,
if the wind had
blown the door shut,
or a person had shut it,
accidentally loud,
without malice or ill intent,
but she froze,
out of habit,
accepting
the blame
and subsequent
shame,
as her own,
once
again,

until
her body began
to release those
old, old feelings,
turbulent, at times,
and, then, as a
cleansing
wave
washing
her soul.

Precious Linda, c.2013