You are my light that keeps
me in the fight.
You lift my burden when
life is uncertain.
Your love brings me home when
I am alone.
Your strength gives me hope when
I cannot cope.
The Garden, the tears, the nails—
All bring me to my knees in
prayer, faith, and humility.
The elephant in the room is
How did everyone even get here.
And I will tell you—
It was on a triple dog dare.
She couldn't help but say it,
"Yeah, I'll take the TRIPLE DOG DARE;
I'm not scared!"
But when the squeals and laughter
And the rampaging of pelican girls
Came into sight,
Threatening to swallow her up,
all she could think now was,
"Maybe I don't want to be here;
Maybe I am scared…"
Where has the time gone?
The days and weeks and years
Slipping by with frightening speed.
Children one minute; gone the next.
One, two, three, then snap—
Everything has changed again,
And all there is to do is wonder
How it all could go by so fast—
Even autopilot offers some adventure.
Once upon a time, I read or wrote (I do not know)
"Anything we do in excess can keep us from
Doing the most important things
For our eternal salvation."
I found these several yet succinct strings of words
Too true. Ever true. A set of whispers from the past
Telling me how to make it out alive better than I thought—
Finding strength in moderation.
I believe in goodness
That lifts us when we're down.
I believe in joy
That teaches it's alright to frown.
I believe that everything
That shows us who God is
Can lift and teach and bless us
When we least expect it.
Beautifully breathless butterfly,
Why do you fly from me?
Songs that softly and gently sing,
Why do you fly to me?
Dancing, leaping, longing,
Why do you fly in time,
You delicate, darling flower
Caught in an unrelenting breeze?
So lovely and fine,
You invite me and entice me
To breathe, sing, and dance
In the charm of your sweet melody
Of fragrance fine.
Sweetest, dearest heart—
Allow your light within to dispel the dark.
Let your song of goodness create a new sound.
Discover purity of the divine
As you fly, sing, and try.
With bandaged heart,
I take the mirror,
Crashed and broken,
Searching my reflection
In every shard of glass,
and the question,
"Will I ever be recovered enough?"
Begins knocking around in my head.
The shards become reflections
Of him and me
Offering a certain quality
To the demanded answer—yes.
I believe in God
Who is my Father true.
I believe He made a plan
To guide me and you.
I believe the world is where
I will find my treasure
When I seek in faith and love
Without measure.
No one typically chooses brown to describe autumntime,
But there is so much to say about a color that holds so much inside
That it lets the other colors shine.
The colors of the sun,
As it fades at summer's end—
Yellow, red, and orange are hidden in brown.
Dandelions and leaves—
In autumn at its start—
Are yellow hidden in brown.
Pomegranates and the blush
On gala apples in autumn
Are the red hidden in brown.
Pumpkin patches and dusky sunlight
Reflecting on lake glass
Are the orange hidden in brown.
Fields of turned over soil ready for winter's rest
And an old farm truck rusting where it rests
Are the brown in autumn
That no one thinks to revel in
Like piles of drying leaves
Strewn on top of summer's grass.
Where did you go, my dear, my darling friend?
Are you lost going to and fro in the dark, dark night?
I never thought there could be an absolute end,
From sharing one heart to this deafening dark washed out in blinding light.
Your love's loss takes my breath and bites
With a sharpness I can hardly stand;
I can only think to stand and fight
For the chance to once again have you hold my hand,
My friend, the owner of the love I never planned
To give away so freely and for eternity,
That light at the end of the tunnel was a contraband
That we never paid the toll on for our steadfast amity.
Where have you gone?
I have stood here too long.
The future is bright, they say.
Opportunity is knocking, they say.
You have the world at your feet, they say.
Good things come to those who wait, they say.
And so they say so many things, but all I can think is
Trepidation is biting at my heels
Like a rabid chihuahua,
And I really just need the loud, crowded voices to quiet down
And show me the way to where
I should head as I find my way
Into the hopefully bright
Yet unknown,
Hopefully successful
Yet who knows anything anymore
Except for them
Future.
While I was waiting, I saw
Children growing,
Children learning,
Children playing.
While I was waiting, I saw
Friends loving and sharing,
Neighbors giving and caring,
Family connecting and forgiving.
While I was waiting, I saw
Laid out before me,
One day at a time,
Pieces of forever
Beneath the surface lie things
No one would want to see
The grief, sorrow, and pain
That never seem to melt away
But sink into the depths of time
Through days, years, and generations
And we find in the depths the
Grief, sorrow, and pain
Are part of all the joy, love, and faith
That always seem to stay
And play in the depths
With the heartstrings
At the turns, every one,
She sighs.
She knows too well what is to come,
And the only thing to do
Is sigh.
Life and lights and highs
And lows
Corners and bends
And blows
At every turn,
All she can do
Is sigh.
Words can bite and sting and cut
Like any terrible thing,
Yet we keep writing them,
Saying them, thinking them—
Repeating them—
Until we learn to only
Write, say, think, and repeat
The things we hope can
Heal and help and keep
The love safe that we always
Want to give but somehow
Can't find the words
Light that glimmers on the heart
That cuts through glass and leaves
A mark that breaks memories in half
And proves that hard things can
Be beautiful.
I never got to really know her before she went Home.
She was dynamic and wonderful even before I began to realize
How she had a life separate and apart—and long before
She became a mother.
Music and language were part of her heart before
She ever knew me.
The way she brought life to a party before
Anyone ever showed up—and long after.
Never before did I truly see how in everything she did
She made everything so good.
In this effort, I looked around and discovered that many people (it even seems to be trendy) attempt/do something noteworthy in honor of turning 50 years old. And I feel a little cliché as I keep writing, yet I know it will bless my life to at least make the effort, and I just cannot care if the idea is not as novel as I had first believed.
That said, I want to share my 50 Things by 50 list:
1. Visit a city (or even country—Scotland, I am looking at you) I have never been to before.
2. Complete a service opportunity at least once a month if not more often.
3. Publish a poetry only book.
4. Develop a cookbook.
5. Spend time reconnecting with at least one friend I have not seen in a year or longer.
6. Try a new food.
7. Make music somehow (singing, instruments, etc.).
8. Try a new hobby.
9. Experience a new self care treatment.
10. Go on a girls trip.
11. Go on a sibling(s) trip.
12. Find something that is specifically spiritually uplifting to do every Sunday.
13. Visit a lake.
14. Go on at least one mom time of their choice with each child.
15. Write letters/emails to 50 women who have been inspirational to me.
16. Find something meaningful to do for others in honor of each of my parents' birthdays.
17. Break the habit of worrying about things I cannot change.
18. Give away ALL clothes that do not fit anymore.
19. Deep clean my home.
20. Complete the revisions on my will.
21. Revise and renew life insurance.
22. Evaluate every expense, and cancel anything that is not truly beneficial.
23. Create an exercise plan to do for a minimum of ten weeks in a row to create healthier habits.
24. Go on a picnic.
25. Go to a day spa for at least a half day.
26. Try a new exercise class, and stick with it at least five times.
27. Organize a neighborhood cleanup.
28. Complete or give/throw away all unfinished craft projects.
29. Donate to a book drive.
30. Watch the sun rise.
31. Try a new recipe.
32. Donate to a humanitarian effort.
33. Play at least one round of golf (probably go to the driving range a couple of times first).
34. Visit the state capitol.
35. Complete a 1000-piece puzzle.
36. Attend a city council meeting.
37. Make a better habit of taking walks around the neighborhood/walking to church.
38. Eat a sausage roll (going to York to do so is recommended but optional).
39. Do a 30-day sugar detox.
40. Cultivate and practice daily gratitude.
41. Increase temple attendance, and set the bar there.
42. Go dancing.
43. Work on seeing how to truly forgive an enemy, and do it.
44. Read at least five books from my physical TBR pile of books that are NOT book club reading.
45. Create a classic films movie marathon lineup, and invite guests.
46. Brush up on Spanish.
47. Permanently break the habit of being undecided at restaurants.
48. Create a calming and inviting office space.
49. Decide on a top 50 films list.
50. Actually decide on what to do, then organize and celebrate my fiftieth birthday.
I took a few months to ponder what I would like to do for this year ahead of me, but I also just made the literal list to make it authentic. I want to be adventurous, giving, and growing this year. If you want to add to the list of ideas, I am totally open to hearing what you have to offer because my list is not exhaustive (and even feels a little flat to me for some reason). And if you want to check back or subscribe to watch for any updates, I hope you will comment as you celebrate along with me!
