Archive for Trust

Washed Ashore

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on December 17, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

Sobriety is a gift. But it can also be taken from me in the blink of an eye. I am on guard when times are tough but what about when times are good? I let my defenses down. I relax. And it is in those times, I also let my guard down.

In those moments, I remember the euphoria of life artificially induced by chemicals that I might seek the pleasures long forgotten or by something never known.

During these times, I must be on my safeguard from failure.

One day not too long ago, I sat on the beach listening to the water wash ashore, enjoying the warmth of the sun as it beat down on my shoulders. I should have been content but I was not. I wanted to rise higher. Like a little child, “Swing me higher daddy.”

I went back to the days when I was unrestrained. My thoughts shook my foundation for the brief time in which I stood unsettled.

Whether life is good, bad or just indifferent, I will always need to be on watch.

For this day I am given the gift of peace in my shipwrecked mind.

Washed ashore–I am grateful–for today!

Beautifully Awkward

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Then Sings My Soul

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on October 25, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

My awakening…followed by nights of slumber.

I toss.

I turn.

There will be moments of clarity before the fog rolls back into my mind hindering my thought process once again.

My brain begins to play games with me–teasing me. I fall into its’ drama. I believe the deception it whispers.

Similar to a small animal in a maze, I can only see that which appears in the moment. Yet, wishing I could rise like the Eagle above the clouds, soaring high as the wind guides her wings. Nevertheless, the scenario’s are two distinct patterns of my life at different times in a given day.

Most days though, I hover in between…not quite sure where I belong. Impatiently, I wait… for the right time that never comes. But I try to fit in. I do try — to belong.

A glance…A shrug…A smile

Maybe, if I’m lucky.

In return, my soul.

I all too freely give away my heart before its ripened to maturity. Thus, allowing the pulsating motions regulated through the elements of sensitivity to run away with that which is pressing .

As I fall back to sleep, He is there…He dances with my spirit.

My feet move, trying to find the rhythm. My heartbeat slows down to the sound of rain and the sense of His presence.

Then sings my soul…

Beautifully Awkward

Letting Go

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on August 6, 2010 by Her Broken Wing
I remember back as a little girl, the first time my dad let go of my hands. He said, “Go, I‘m right here.” I trusted him. I jumped into the deep waters and swam. He watched me intently with his big beautiful and loving eyes. I was the center of his attention. The world had stopped for a brief eternity.   

I remember…   

My first day of school my dad walked me up to my class, and said, “Go, I’m right here.” There he let go of my hand, kissed my head and walked away. I believe I saw a tear.  My heart was beating so fast. But I trusted him. I knew he would be waiting for me.   

When I was nine, my dad held me tightly until the doctors wheeled me back into the procedure room to sew up my head from a tragic injury. My dad said, “Go, I’m right here.” I still remember him reluctantly letting go of my tiny hand. Oh, I did not handle the separation, for I saw my dad cry. I felt my heart swell.  I knew I was loved.    

Then life changed…Some months later something happened, my dad had to go. Through the heartbreaking devastation of divorce, my dad took my hand and said, “I must go, but I’m right here.” My trust was shaken that day. Obviously if I had tried harder, my daddy would not have gone.   

So my days grew dark and long… the days became months and the months became years. I was learning a new life without the structure I had known, albeit not that great for my parents really were not cordial. I was learning to live out of a new identity of that of my previous Daddy’s Little Girl, I began looking to fill a void deep within my heart. I wanted to be the center of someone’s attention. I wanted back what I had as a little girl.   

Trying to fill the past with something of the present is like putting a square peg in a round hole. I just doesn’t work. For God says, “Press toward the goal…” (Phil 3:14)—- not … hang out in the past…   

But the pain was too great for me… So I continued to fill the void with things not of God…   

Near the end of my father’s life, I plummeted into total despair. I held the pain of his death like a trophy. I could not let go. For letting go would mean… acknowledging my sickness, my victim mentality and meaning that I would have to become real with myself. To release my dad to my Heavenly Father, I would have to release myself as well. No more “Oh poor pitiful me….“seeking sympathy of others… living in the chaotic world I thrived in that kept it acceptable for me to use drugs. After all, look what I had been through…To trust–we must take a risk…for others are going to fail us… I am going to fail others.   

Letting go, would mean–Dad saying, “Go, I’m right here.”Letting go, would mean–Abba saying, “Go, I’m right here.”  

 Today, I am able to jump into the deep places of my life and immerse in the warmth of the surrounding embrace of love…For I am the apple of my Daddy’s eye.  

Beautifully Awkward