writing

When You Stop and Think About It

/ Jaimie / 4 Comments

Have you ever read something that’s going viral that you agree with completely and then you can’t get it out of your head? Not because it was any new concept or trans formative thought, but because you’re suddenly struck by the notion that it isn’t common sense to the mass populace. You realize that the way you try to live your life is foreign to others. Somehow you’ve become the anomaly. Selfishness has taken the place of selfishness everywhere like an epidemic.

Then everywhere you look, there are reminders of this fact and you wonder how you never saw it before. Then you grow increasingly concerned about others because of this realization and you wonder if maybe a small voice in the mass void can make a difference.

Then you realize that by nature of the fact that the aforementioned viral piece went viral, one lone voice already has. Then you realize that if that voice called to the masses, maybe yours can too.

Then you sit down and write the circular reasoning down and send it out into the void so maybe someone else can come to the same conclusion and stop and write or speak up or sing or do whatever it is they do. Then maybe one voice will become two voices or one hundred or one thousand or one million. Then maybe the collective voices will proclaim in unison that there is a better way.

Give of yourself. Make a difference.

“Our greatest fear should not be of failure but of succeeding at things in life that don’t really matter.” Francis Chan

Words, Words, Words

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Words

Words are a powerful thing. With their assistance we brave daunting emotions and weighty issues. We express our inmost thoughts and our deepest fears.

Words can cut through the soul to the inner man bringing both healing and harm. Words can be followed by joy, embraced by laughter or lost in sorrow.

There are words we set to flight that we’d like to grab back quickly like the bug the fly snatches mid-air with his rasping, sticky tongue.

There are words we could repeat infinitely and still never exhaust; the “I love you’s” whispered, yelled, proclaimed, declared and given freely.

In the inexhaustible I find a sweet malady. When I’m struck with more emotion than I could possibly utter. Those 2 a.m., “watching the baby sleep” moments. I’m there grasping internally for a way to describe the sentiment and find myself empty but so incredibly full.

How do we pinpoint love on a page? Many have tried but is such greatness definable?

Rest

It’s no wonder the heavens declare the glory of God because we would never be able to scratch the surface of the topic. We are so limited in our vocabulary, with our finite minds and detail-oriented natures. Yet there He stands, incalculable, boundless, limitless, vast and grand. And we should be in awe. We should stumble and wrestle with our verbiage in attempt to bring Him the praise He’s due. We do this not because we know we will succeed, but because what else is there?

Moonlight

We bound through life tossing words around like confetti, littering the landscape in an effort to bring joy, excitement, inspiration and meaning. Let us also fill the air with words of thankfulness and praise like the stars that paint the heavens as each word floats on frequency to the ears of one who hears it all.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” John 1:1

Words are a powerful thing!

Welcome

/ Jaimie / 1 Comment

It’s been awhile since I took a moment to stop and spend a few moments at the keyboard. This is mainly due to the odious fact that in times when I need to release that spark of divine thought the most, I am tempted and often accede to occupying my mind with lesser things that require no thought or even slight use of intellect. Instead of tapping into the source of comfort, I so often delve into the well of apathy, a quality I wish I could observe like a speck in someone else’s eye rather than staring blankly at the beam obstructing my own. Either way, it’s been an eventful couple of weeks.

One week ago, I gave birth to my fourth child. He’s heaven wrapped up in baby skin so soft and kissable that I am forced by a power so much greater than me, to stop and breathe him in. I revel in tiny fingernails and the way he can spread and curl his toes. It is another reminder in this dilapidated world, that God not only exists, but creates with brilliant stroke, the most beautiful artwork. His hand reaches into the deep and molds and fashions perfection.

I recently heard of a study which showed a high percentage of people turned to faith in God after having a child because they felt they had witnessed a miracle. Truly, they have. My mind reels at the thought of someone looking into the marvel that is childbirth and a newly birthed baby and walking away unconvinced that there is a creator.

I write this now, with baby in one arm, partly to share our joy with you and partly to remind myself in the days to come, that I cannot forget to pour out that which is in me. Only in releasing what is given, can I attain more. Only in attaining fresh vision and revelation, can I continue to grow. Only in growth, can I teach or inspire those around me, my children, my sphere of influence.

Welcome little one! I am so in love!

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In Light of Argument

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Brush back the tears I thought had dried

Slowly bound by in between

Is there a riddle to things behind unlocking the scars in me?

Tonight I’m yarn knotted to nonsense, twisted aimlessly behind the noise that screams behind your eyes

 

A promise I believe will hold me pounding steady rhythms on my aching feet

Foundation to calm the poisons from my past that sneak up to persuade me to believe the lie again

I am the constant variable

You are not dependent on the stagger of my wasted emotion

 

Then your lips press to close tightly like a vice that seeks to express the air from these, my infant lungs

The hose that feeds me sustenance pinched before you and I’m not sure you even notice

 

I’ll wake tomorrow and see that it was all a dream

My heart will lift with the sweetness and calm of morning

But tonight, I’ll exchange the tears that attempt to fall for the letters joined in sequence on this page.

Maybe that’s enough…