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Punch holes in your fears

Fear hovers like fog.
It gathers, hesitates, stays.
We read what confirms.
See, I am right to be afraid;
I have reason to fear.

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Light dims
Pulling up our covers, to
our hideout, our cocoon, our tent.
Safety suffocates…
if not self imposed,
then self-perpetuated.

Punch holes in what frightens you.
Not with fists,
but with learning,
with truth,
with prayer,
by conversation with a trusted confidante.

Pepper your fears with puncture.
Then, look through them
to what they’ve been hiding:
the life God imagines for you.

Step into it.

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This Gift is Not Mine, But Yours

giftThere’s such a difference between

“You are gifted!” and “You’ve been given a gift!”

One might confuse the two, thinking either one will do.

But no, one must go.

Step away; the other may stay.

You are gifted! Shining star, you’re certain to go far.
A sure anointing, don’t be disappointing.

The burden so heavy, not the resources to levy.
Tremendous heft, leaves me bereft.

Flattened by stares, everywhere the snares.
Put that gift aside, my heart begs, safe from pride.

No! Come and see, You’ve received a gift from Me.

What could it be? Unwrap it and see!

The cover falls away, and I know this is here to stay.
It’s a perfect fit, not meant to sit
idly by while I wait,for jitters to abate.

Take her out for a spin, it’s not a sin
even if you stumble, we won’t grumble.
Open her up, feel the breeze, do I have to say please?
Feel it juke and jive, let it come alive!

Forgive me for my confusion, the two have been in collusion,
You are gifted… is a weight to be lifted.
You’ve been given a gift … that offers me a lift!

One might confuse the two, thinking either one will do.

But no. One must go.

The first steels my will, I had better stand still.
The second makes me dizzy, I had better get busy.

Expectant

cardinal-Female-Tony-CampbellHow brave the mother cardinal,

perched atop the feeder,

not feeding, but performing,

not performing, but calling.

With words I do not know, but a voice I dearly do.

I am here! I have a message for you! Come!

She calls out and waits, calls out and waits,

for the answering call

in a pitch and rhythm and expression she already knows,

but doesn’t.

“I hear you. Wait there. I am coming.”

How does she know there will be an answer?

How does she know how to call, what to say, to whom she calls?

Yet, without fear or hesitation,

Her voice rings out again and again,

into the silence.

She has more faith than I, this mother cardinal.

More boldness, more courage.

Instinctive – there is no thought at all to this display!

And yet, do not I have this instinct born also in me?

This desire to call out,

in a pitch all my own,

with a tone and a voice and a message uniquely mine

and then to listen,

for a voice I do not know,

and yet do.

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