Lyricaltruth's Blog

You speak

and I fall into memory, not my own.

The corners fade

Yet you are distinct

and more alive to me than myself.

Adjectives, nouns and verbs

become sight

and heart

and pace

straining toward phantoms.

Not standing,

not running,

my feet fly and you cross the line.

Thundering pulse of sweat and salt,

the race is won –

although you tore through ribbon long ago.

by J. Clark     Feb. 14, 2010

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Notes spill out

like a confession

I am arrested.

Chords tied tightly

in progression

I come undone

Hypnotist with waving wand

bring me back again

to Rhyme and meter

rhythm and matter

Sound and resound

I surrender.

J. Clark   (c)  2/13/10

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There was a time his armor waited ready by the door.

His heart burst at the shout of comrades gathered for the war.

The darkling night would cower at the echo of their roar,

But the solitary soldier fights no more.

Too many broken shields now lie in trenches near his home,

And  countless lost and missing loves are searching for their own.

The carving is still fresh upon the monumental stone

And the solitary soldier stands alone.

The cry of battle far away sounds harsh against the night.

The tattered flag is lowered. He recoils at the sight.

No matter how he wishes he can never make it right.

So the solitary soldier ends his fight.

by J. Clark   2/12/10

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The one thing I really want before I die, is to know my life has been of great value. How much time have I wasted? Too much, I think. What have I done that will last? Time to reflect on the last, almost 50, years.

I’ve raised four children and am raising a grandchild.

I’ve taught Sunday School classes for more than 25 years.

Tried to be a good friend, an encouraging wife to my husband, and a faithful follower of Jesus Christ – not compromising things I believe are important to Him.

I have written a few children’s books,

taught a few workshops,

I tutor 8th graders once a week,

and post on Facebook regularly!  (It’s my bully pulpit for conservative Constitutionalism and Bibilical worldview.)

I’ve had little success arguing for theological points of view, and have found that to be a waste of time – unless the person I’m speaking to is really searching. It’s the same politically. People don’t want to be challenged in their beliefs, they want to be supported. The greatest tool, I’ve learned, in persuasion, is the question.

I’ve learned that I really don’t know so much.

That I’m not very skilled or talented compared to others.

That I have little strength to persevere, and constantly need encouragement or motivation to continue – especially in the dark months of winter.

I’ve learned the value of good friendships.

I have learned to risk honesty, and entrust myself to God for help.

I’ve learned to finish things I start, and not to start things I can’t finish… usually.

I’ve learned about the importance of listening before speaking.

Does all this make my life significant? Will God say, “Well done”, when I see Him?

I have not learned to push  myself in discipline with something I really *hate* to do.

I’ve NOT learned to accept getting old – I strive against it.  It isn’t the years – but the effects of them I don’t like.

What I don’t know, is –

should I let go and let myself be the “old lady” (such an awful term!!!) or should I continue to strive against it?

Knowing that in our society an old lady is not respected. Not “heard”. Marginalized.  At a time when my circle could be growing ever larger, will it shrink? Will I withdraw and be ignored as insignificant? There must be a silver lining here somewhere.

Today, I am thinking about myself. Yes I am.  Feeling sorry for myself, I guess. It is such an effort to row against the currents of time. Is this how I should be spending my efforts? I keep vacillating between two courses. Shall I water the flowers tombed in ice upon the hill?

What course to take now. And not turn back again. I don’t want to waste any more time with false starts. I don’t know how many days there are to leave a legacy or make a difference. Shall I set my sights higher? Shall I be content?

How shall I know…

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America has become too feminized. The church has also become feminized.  Is this of the image of God that was intended from the beginning?

Masculinity is constantly under attack, and real men must” eat quiche ” and not be afraid to cry. Our culture tells them to be secure enough to get in touch with their feminine side.  Now, Ladies… is this what you *really* want? Your man in an apron?

We are different, and not  only in matters of anatomy. While there are varying degrees, women are created to be more nurturing, emotional and intuitive than men. Man was created to be more rational and objective.  Woman was given to man, initially, as his helpmeet. Eve was to assist, come alongside and encourage Adam to meet his full potential. She didn’t do very well that first week… and since then, we sisters have had a struggle trying to keep our heads on straight about being there for our guy instead of running past him and stealing his thunder. But inside, we would really like to see them do well. To be proud of them. To say, “That’s my guy. He’s amazing.”  And, this is exactly what he needs from us.

Man was created to be the protector and provider. He was also created to *need* a woman to assist him and to respect him. This is why we are commanded to respect our husbands and they are commanded to love their wives (Eph. 5:22-33).  It’s how we are put together.

Eve was taken from Adam. Together, they make the “image of God.”  I have often thought that the picture of the Trinity is well shown by the family, all with the same name and purpose (optimally), but three distinct persons with distinct roles.  The Father who provides and protects, the Mother (like the Holy Spirit) who comes along side and encourages, the Son who makes the Father proud, and whom the mother continually points to in her pride and joy.  There are some real similarities between the Holy Trinity and the ideal family.  But we have fallen. How we have fallen.

Men should accept their God-given uniqueness and role. Women also need to enjoy the masculinity of their men, not try to undermine it, and joyfully accept their own femininity.  Men, tend to be more rational and calm… women the more easily lead and intuitive/emotional. Like the head and the heart.  Together we make an image of God.  Apart, we are always alone. Missing something key for fulfillment.  Loneliness was the one thing that God said wasn’t good in His creation. So, male and female He created them, for each other, for His glory – a complete picture.

There are rare exceptions when God gives a person the gift of being single with joy and fulfillment. In that case, He alone is their completer. But this is not His primary purpose or design.  Life really does work out better when you follow the directions of the Designer. He knows what He’s doing!

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Blank agony.

Death stares through his eyes, fear turns him pale, lies make him weak.  And, I can not help.

No words are enough. No promises convince him. He believes the voices and receives the condemnation.  His hands cover his ears when I speak of forgiveness. Dulled eyes stare back, unable to see hope that waits beyond the door.  Yet, until he turns the latch, there is no hope.

Faith is gone.

Hear my prayer, Oh GOD! He cannot pray.  Save him! Reach him with words he can believe in, while there is life left – to save.

Sleepless nights of incoherent words. Tormenting dreams cry out from half-sleep. The claws are digging into his brain, mesmerizing, seductive hate. “This one will not recover. He deserves to die – he has said it himself. There is no redemption left for such a one. No sacrifice. Believe it and die.”

Doubt your doubts, Beloved, and the grip is loosened.  Wonder at the dawn and a light will break!  See arms opened and receive love and forgiveness. I am still here. God is still here.

You are loved. Always.

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Sometimes there is no other way to learn to swim other than jumping in. There are so many things I do, that I am not “qualified” to do.  If I stop to think about it for too long, I will back away – recognizing my own inadequacy. So to combat this, I overprepare. Even when filled with information, I’m still not sure I will deliver it well… especially if I try. So, I’ve found my solution is to fill my mind until it hits “TILT”, then keep in mind the *basic* concept I want to communicate and “wing it”. I just start talking. Usually this works out pretty well.

It works until someone calls on me to show “how it’s done”.  Why don’t you train others to do what you do? You are such an expert!

Oh, really?

If you only knew.  I’ve been faking it, *acting* like I know what I’m doing, until I get there. Somehow, I get there… but I don’t think I could draw you a map.

Maybe I should take up cartography, next.

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The glass slipper, fairy dust

enchanted castle, and a prince…

Are these the ingredients

of a timeless tale?

A villian, vile and crafty.

A hunted hero, fallen.

A weeping maiden, pleading.

Are these the dreams

that paint the scenes

of a children’s story?

Or is it the simplicity

of kitten paws and butterflies?

Tell me a tale by firelight

that echoes in my heart

and shines in my eyes!

That is a children’s story.

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There is an amazing grace that comes with a friend walking with you through grief.  Grief is messy, I’m finding out, and very unpredictable. It does not announce itself and can take so many forms. One being obsession or excessive dependence on a particular person. That isn’t a healthy state for a friendship, and will eventually wear it down.

I am thankful tonight for a wise friend who saw my condition, recognized my real need, and covered over my offenses while teaching me to see my condition for what it was.  Dear friend, I think God for you and that grace. You did not throw me away as I became a problem.

Hopefully, I will recognize the opportunity to “pay it forward” when it comes, and give the grace needed to *really* help a friend.

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