Saturday, January 28, 2012

Being (Staying) Away aka Does This Count?

    It's been so long since I posted! I've been having a dry spell in which I tried to write but came up empty. While I sat at my desk squeezing the life out of words that wouldn't get along with each other I reached the big one-eight, which inevitably led to a gazillion dinner dates (comes with the territory of having a large family and indivdually going out with them to have an officially grown-up talk), moments in which I tried to make myself feel like an adult, panic attacks at my failure to do so, and trying to quit thinking I'm still a teenager (technically I am but you know what I mean). Did I mention I don't feel like an adult at all? Frankly that scares me because I feel as if I should go do something important. It's sad really. I hate to say it but I wish I could rewind to my thirteenth birthday. So, my wise advice to everybody is: Don't do what I did and realize too late that the time between 13 and 18 is a time to sow not reap.
    Regarding my dry spell, I keep telling myself, "I will participate in Write on Wednesday this week. I will!" And then I never do. Then I tell myself, "Saturday is coming, get a move on your OSI poem!." But Saturday comes and goes and no poem. I could go on and on about the things I meant to write that never became a reality but what's the point? Anyway, I edited some old stuff (ok maybe it was just one paragraph) that I hope counts as writing (it's part of the process no?), but other than that I wrote nothing new.This thing that comes on a whim isn't really writers' block. I've had that before and it's different. No, this is more like I-have-an-idea-and-a-billion-days-later-I-still-haven't-been-able-to-put-it-to-paper. It's a real disease, I swear.

The Thursday Think Tank (on Saturday) - The Road

I realize I'm super late for this post, but procrastination/tardiness is, unfortunately, a family trait I must battle with everyday and all things considered I think it'll be ok if I'm late just this once. Anyway, I did write this on Thursday but never got around to posting it til tonight. This poem is about a journey I recently embarked on.

image courtesy of weheartit
Strait and Narrow
The road I walk on
Isn't lined with flowers
Or smoothly paved
It's easy to find
But not easy to take

This road is rugged
And often painful
But I can't be happy
I walk it

This road is hard
But in it you'll find
Love, joy, peace, and
Living water; one sip
And you'll never thirst

This road I walk on
Is quite deserted
Except for One
Whose love alone can satisfy
His name is True and Faithful

It's His road I walk on
Every day and every night
Some may scorn
But I can't be happy
Unless I walk it

"Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it." - Matthew 7:14

*I realize my statement "It's easy to find/ But not easy to take" sounds contradictory to the above verse, but what I meant to convey with it is the simplicity of the gospel. Coming to Christ is easy, but that's just the beginning. People often leave out the stuff that comes after accepting Jesus Christ as your Savior, which is what the verse is talking about and the road I am on.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Growing Up

image courtesy of weheartit
They tell you to grow up
As if that alone could make you invincible
They speak of adulthood
As if it alone brought freedom
And you spend your life thinking
That a number means so much more

But I have come to realize
Growing up means fighting harder battles
And no, you're not invincible
Adulthood, 18, 21
Is just a number if you
 Never learned how to be free inside

Tuesday, January 3, 2012


image courtesy of weheartit
Sometimes I feel lonely
and a coldness sweeps my soul
Sometimes my skies are gray
and clouds rain tears of hate
Sometimes I am blind
and lose my way in life
But when I reach for You
These sometimes disappear

Sunday, January 1, 2012

image courtesy of weheartit
I thought of you today
Amidst the chaos and the snow
I thought of you and summer
When I stepped inside
Away from biting flakes of solitude

I found an old life
(Tangled in yellowed pages and a picture or two)
While rummaging in a forgotten desk drawer
That reminded me of something
But of what I can't be sure