How to Choose the Perfect Baby Memory Book - wikiHow

How to Choose the Perfect Baby Memory Book - wikiHow

Bread Crumbs

We all have times in our lives when we feel lost. I love the song by Cold Play, “Lost?”  He thinks of all kinds of reasons to justify why he isn’t, what he seems to be… alone, or lost… or hurt. Isn’t that what we all do?  I remember one thing I heard years ago– “You can’t separate yourself, and who you are… from what you do.”  So so true.  Although wouldn’t we love so, to DO things one way… but BE, something else… entirely.
We all have moments, or hours or days… some of us months and years… of losing sight of who we are, and what’s important. I was myself in a place of some confusion about my life… not long ago. And it led me to a place I have never been, and hope to never go again.  I found myself in this place, eternally… because I had absolutely no desire to leave it, at all. I didn’t want to feel hopeless, and yet there I sat… hopeless; and can I just tell you how hopelessness is without a doubt one of the worst feelings in the world?  I could look at myself, and know it wasn’t right… but I couldn’t help myself, and I had friends that would do anything for me… but I would reject them and dismiss their concerns.  I can remember moments when I would feel a glimmer of emotion, which I hadn’t shown in months. It felt good… and reminded me that I was human, and I still did care.  I described these moments as bread crumbs… tiny little fragments of hope, that can lead the lost… home.
Although I was raised in church, and am a poet and inspirational writer– and have always been faithful, and often heard the voice of God and certainly seen His hand in my life… my rebellious nature didn’t seem to befit the style of “church home” I found when we moved here a few years ago.  That’s a story for another day… let’s just say we hadn’t been to church, in a long LONG time…  And then, we went.  I was taken somewhat by force (not really)… not physically anyway…  but let’s just say, I didn’t really want to go.  So what happened?  Well of course… the sermon… was written for me
“There is no place you can go, and hide from God…”  and if THAT wasn’t enough… he went on to say … “and that’s a good thing!”   I thought of where I was at that moment, and where I had been… and for the first time in a long time… I probably gave ample thought, to where I was going.  And so I reflected for a moment, on the idea of bread crumbs…
We hide from God, unconsciously… out of depression, confusion…shame…
I began to wonder why I myself, had hidden from God– and why my heart had become so very hardened and calloused to those who love me the most, including Him.  Out of anger, I left God. Out of confusion I ran from God– out of depression, I hid from God.
And one day, I plucked a bread crumb from the ground– the tiniest morsel… nothing really, maybe a smile, or a few words of familiar reason or wisdom… that represented to me, a place in my life, or a conviction in my mind… that I once knew.
And as I crept out of hiding to procure the next potential proverbial crumb, I saw the sun peek through the darkness, and I felt for just one brief moment… the sun. I felt the warmth of that light– and I went back.  But there was a day when I came out for that crumb… and I stayed… a little longer, in the company and fellowship… of a dear friend who had known me my whole life.  And with the look, and a few simple words… she broke me, my harsh spirit and calloused heart…
And so it was, with only a bread crumb, I was saved from darkness– this time.
And the thought occurred to me now, how many times I might have seen a friend headed somewhere, and not recognized he was headed to a dark place. I wondered if ever I had been a bread crumb– and then I shutter at the thought I had once the chance to be… and didn’t lend myself to that cause.
I didn’t know it– but all that time, I truly was in hiding from the Lord. And it took the smallest thing–to bring pieces of me back. But so very many crumbs were dropped before me, and rejected…
I imagine if that friend had given up on me–and that one day, she’d have grown weary of my struggle, and not have been there…
I stand here before you, in the light…
Happy, forgiven restored… and grateful.
Thank you God, for the littlest things in life that we too often take for granted… and bless the bread crumbs, that to the naked eye are nothing more than harmless morsels of… something, anything, nothing–
They lead us home.

This is Love

Paint me a picture my love,
of love, and life... and hope

So that I might look at it,
and remember all that is right with the world
in my mind's eye
as we sleep

Paint me a picture...

of a moonlit sky and a long long stretch of beach...
with soggy sand paving a serene pathway,
to nowhere

Let there be stars...
the kind that fill the sky as far as the eye can see...
and a soft spot to lie beneath them,
with silence and still breath

A sunrise, fresh at the break of day,
with the dark cloak of night still slipping away
and upon the horizon, mountain peaks
to fill my eyes with suspense,
for the coming light
as not to see it, just any moment too early
I want to know it's coming... and wait

A spot nearest a humble little pond
that takes my breath
glassy, and glistening with a kiss from the morning sun...
warm, on my back... as I write,
and the day begins anew

A thunderous rainstorm.
and a dry place to watch,
and listen to the power of nature
and then...the glorious smell of spring, and new life
once the clouds have passed

The warmth of a fire,
and the glow of the flame
to warm our faces on a cold, quiet night--
the crackle of smoldering wood as the blaze takes it's last and final bow
in the otherwise still, eerie silence of the great outdoors

A trail of wildflowers,
a forest thick with the tallest trees in the world
that remind me, I am small... and insignificant, and humbled,
as I breath deep
an air that's fresh, and fragrant, and green

A choir, of children
their faces all aglow,
exuding a sense of hope, and a quiet power
a reverence for all that is good and pure in the world
and sinks my heart, with humility, and peace
sung in any language on earth

A valiant friend, who defends my honor
if he even on this day, is the last to stand,
in my name,
out of respect
to remind me that all I need, is one.

A fall afternoon,
a brisk, cool day
leaves that drift aimlessly to the ground
and the sound of them crunching beneath our feet
as we walk, slowly, to...
no place in particular, at all

A road not too long... between us
to see you, every day,
but long enough to miss you as I leave,
and on the way...
so that you look at me each time... and truly see me,
as if you grew hungry for my sight

A letter, of words... from your heart
that I can read again, and again
and savor in my soul as I would the last drink,
of water... that would ever touch my lips

This is love.
This is love, and life and hope...
to me.

Can you paint this, for me... my love?
And I shall look at it each day...
When I feel that my cup is full, and runneth over... with blessings,
or empty, and sad... that I have used the very last drop
to live.

I will see it,
and remember all that is right with the world.
I will not feel fragile,
but filled up... with the gravity of your presence
and the fullness of your love.

I imagine it now,
and I love it so...
I have cleared just the spot for such a painting...
in my soul.

"Sing to me beautiful, crazy world...the song of hope"

Here I sit perched high atop the world, in my thoughts. The water flows, the trees sway, and the clouds drift... aimlessly amid the heavens, as I await... what, I wonder-- might be the next great thing. For so many now, of my life's greats, seem dwarfed by the realization of my heart's fate. I have lived, and loved and lost-- And the greatest of these, sadly is what I have lost-- time, life, experiences, hopes, dreams, awakenings, inspiration, meaning... MEANING--the meaning of love, and life, and hope.

The dark cloak of ignorance has been ripped from my eyes, and the naive cloud of acceptance which once stood solid and rigid, has become dust that settles about me, where I exist in disbelief of my new found knowledge. I watch the cars drive below, and a man on a bike, as we take our breakfast on a tiny balcony in the sky on this, my new day--a dawning of destiny. A beautiful sunny morning, with just a bit of haze and a light breeze accompany my palette, as my life paints a vivid dream of what can now be... and my eyes well with tears as fate whispers to my ears-- "it has begun"--purpose, life... MY life...my soul fills with awe.

"I am sorry" I spoke in silence to my heart--that I had for so long believed in a piece of a thoughtful promise, and in the world--that failed me as the betrayal of a dear friend.
"Whisper!" I said to the song in my soul that grew louder and louder, as I felt a moment of passing guilt, for finding solace in my joy, while my discovery has and continues to cause others much grief.

I have left my life, my security, the version of happiness that I knew, and found favor with--and traded for judgment by those who loved me and those whom I loved, uncertainty, unfamiliarity... and abandoned reason for passion...

For the first time in my life, I struggle for certainty of life, but not love...
For the first time in my life, I truly worry about necessity, but not desire...
For the first time in my life, I KNOW LESS... than I do NOT KNOW...
and I have never been more sure, of anything in the world.

There are moments I hear the voice of reason and ponder the thought, if innocence although ignorance, wasn't a better option-- a life of being taken care of--in a place where things made sense. But I chose so late, a life of being cared for, and an age of uncertainty-- but with one important factor-- There would be only one certainty, but it would be that of MY choosing: that I would be free.

So sings my soul--the song of freedom. The joy and liberation of being me, is fresh on my lips and dripping from the places in my life now, where I have been and continue to choose to be. With my hands I touch the things that belong truly to me--that I care for and love. With my arms I hold them close, as if the very last memory of my life, being stolen from thought.

Sing to me, beautiful, crazy world-- the song of hope... that I do not know the future, but I do know my hopes for it, and the reality that I myself cling to each day the option of embracing or rejecting... anything I choose. So plays the song, of love and life and hope.
Play on, louder and louder... sweet, beautiful melody...
as I listen, and we dance.