Drifting

It's odd to realize that sometimes all it takes for a friendship to drift is business that lasts long enough for the lack of communication to become normal.

Edit: Sometimes all it takes to begin to change the drifting is to acknowledge it happened and seek to take the time to change it.... Perhaps it's not all that easy... But it can be, if you both work at it... Friendship takes work and time on both sides- love is a good, good thing.

October 5, 2016

What if the wound is only distance?
What if the drift is a lack of time?
How does one heal what was never shattered?
I'm learning to balance your life in mine.

---

What if the wound is only distance?
One week of business
Becomes a month -
Becomes several...
Not a purposed pulling away,
Simply a mutual hurry of responsiblities
Until you can't remember shared times
Amid all the days of distance...
And yet it still feels like a wound...
What if the dtrift is a lack of time?
Days pile quickly,
Especially during changes.

A blink;
A handful of uncertainties perhaps,
Mixed with new beginnings
And suddenly you realize time has pulled those you love almost without you seeing it...

And now you wonder:
How does one heal what was never shattered?
How does the person you've grown to be fit with who they've become?
AsI reach to again build our friendship
I begin to see this truth:
I'm learning to balance your life in mine.

To Be A CNA

**

Perhaps this isn't quite a poem, but it's an outpouring of emotions - and that's what my poetry is...

Yesterday was my last day at my Long Term Care job, as I am getting married in 14 days and moving to Pennsylvania afterward... I have so much I wish to say, but don't quite know how to. But I'm trying.

To Be A CNA

Today I recited 1 Corinthians 13 on the way to work -
If I start by the second red light, I'll have recited it fully by the time I reach the turn.
It's a litany of peace, reminding me -
I am love. Today I show love. I can do nothing without God's love.
“Please make me love.”
“Please give me energy for today.”
“Please let me be on South Hall, and if I'm not, please let me have a good attitude, wherever I am.”
“Please let there be enough coworkers for this shift and the next.”
My quiet, repetitive prayers of every work day.
Some days I see God more clearly than others -
Some days I am more loving than others -
Some days are better than others -
But it's a learning ground, if I choose to see it that way.

Three years is enough to feel comfortable here, most days -
Especially if you put me on South Hall with people I work well with.
There's a confidence in knowing where I should be, and what's expected.

Do you want to know what a nurse aid is?
We are the ones who take them in and out of the bathroom -
We are the ones who give showers, and take them to meal times, and make sure they are safe.
We are the ones who are cussed at, hit, and complained about if they are sick or in a bad mood.
We are the ones who give comfort when they are crying, listen when they are lost in their past, and
We are the ones who are family - even if no family chooses to come anymore.

. . . . .

Someone didn't show up to work -
Maybe they called in,
Maybe there was a hole in the schedule,
Maybe their  name shouldn't have been written down -
Whatever the case, my 8 hour day just turned into 12 hours.
Or maybe no one at all can come to replace me, and I will work 16 hours.
You can never trust you can go home at a certain time.
I've seen mothers calling babysitters, calling family -
“I'm being mandated. I can't come home.”
Sometimes I just want to go home, and I can't...
This is what it means to be a CNA to me.

There are coworkers I trust, and those I don't-
But I love the easy rhythm of working with my friends I count on.
The odds may be stacked against us, but we take a deep breath and charge through the day.
There's a certain comfort in working as a team to get the job done.
We have inside jokes and times of laughter amid all the business -
Good natured teasing and poking fun.
We may not always have good work days, but any day with friends still has good moments.
This is what it means to be a CNA to me.

A fall alarm is blaring 'Somewhere Over The Rainbow' in a wild tune  –
Perhaps if I'm fast enough I won't find someone on the floor.
This is at least the fourth time I've turned this alarm off and made sure this person is safe.
I was in the middle of giving someone else care, but the alarm was calling, and so I ran.
Since working here, every time I hear sudden sounds, I jerk towards them –
Sudden beeping sounds are the worst -
My mind is always saying, “Fall alarm!” unconsciously.
This is what it means to be a CNA to me.

Maybe someone will try and hit me today -
I've never been bitten, but I've worked with people who have.
I've never been seriously hurt on the job, but I've pulled my back before.
My toes curl in almost automatically as wheel chairs graze near my shoes -
I carefully watch peoples moods and hands...
A smile can quickly turn into an upraised fist, and angry words.
But I am gentle and understanding, because everyone needs my care.
This is what it means to be a CNA to me.

“We have to stay inside for right now.”
They don't know why I won't let them out of the building.
'Their car is parked right outside -'
'I can't keep them here against their will!'
'Have I see their family member?'
'I am an awful girl for not being able to find who they need...'
But I can't let them out -
I am here to keep them safe...
On days when they are lost in the past, I am the one to try and redirect their thoughts,
Because I can't take them where they wish to be.
This is what it means to be a CNA to me.

“It will be a nice, warm shower. I promise it won't take long.”
Please take a shower....
It's been at least a week since their last shower -
Perhaps longer, if they refused last week.
"Can you please try a bite?"
"Are you sure you don't want something else for dinner?"
Please eat...
It's my job to worry about if they're eating - my job to try to convince them to shower-
It's my job to make sure basic day to day care is being given-
Even if I have to plead, or offer several times.
This is what it means to be a CNA to me.

I'm dealing with uncontrollable crying about something that isn't even real in today-
But I'm holding them tight and loving them now
Because right now, their sorrows are fresh and real to them -
In their mind - the sadness - it is true.
And there are others-
Frustration about their abilities and progress can lead to tears, or angry words,
"I'm sorry you feel that way," is sometimes all I know how to say,
But I try to be patient, even when they aren't patient with me.
I filter all day through complaining, anger, sadness, pain,
As those I care for are a wide range of emotions.
Me?
I try to maintain a sense of calm - even when I don't feel it.
This is what it means to be a CNA to me.

"His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me."
We could sing those words every day,
And some of them would never tire of it.
Over time, I've learned who likes to sing, or who likes me to sing.
Not every day is a singing day, but I enjoy the times that are
Because we can gladden each other's heart through it.
There can be so much joy and love
If we choose to share it.
This is what it means to be a CNA to me.

Laughter is one of the greatest joys-
Maybe they're teasing playfully with me,
Or excited at a new outfit,
Or just simply happy today -
I love those times.
Quick hugs - long hugs - telling each other,
"I love you!"
I can not do everything I wish to,
But I can be loving and joyful and kind...
And many days, that's what they seem to need the most.
This is what it means to be a CNA to me.

"I love you."
"You look beautiful today."
"That's my girl."
"I love your hugs."
"You aren't allowed to ever leave me."
"I wish I had a granddaughter just like you."
"I pray all the best in the world for you."
Little words of encouragement from those I care for.
Moments where I look around and know,
This is where I am meant to be in this season of life.
Not every day is good, but every day I can give what is good.
This is what it means to be a CNA to me.

My daddy always says,
"Go be a blessing to someone today."
I know I didn't always live that perfectly, or be as patient or loving as I wish,
But I prayed, and I tried, and I gave...
Ministry wrapped in day to day work.
And that is what being a CNA was to me.


~ZA

**Photo Credit: Link

She Laughed

She Laughed 

12/23/16

She laughed

In the middle of the night because she had yet to sleep.

It was often this way:

She loved the way relationships

Grew in the night.

She laughed

Because the dearest people to her

Always made her do so

When it grew late.

That was the delight of it:

Forever spilling out joy.

She laughed

While they laughed with her.

She felt worries fade to a whisper as

They brought joys and laughter

In the moments.

She laughed

Though pieces were forever shifting.

There was strength in the knowledge,

These friendships were a picture of things

Yet To Come

She laughed

Until weariness took over.

Then in warm contentment, she

Went to sleep knowing

She felt loved.

~ZA

#LongDistanceFriendships

#Skype

A Hundred Different Places

Sometimes I feel like my heart lives in a hundred different places...

Friendships grow in seasons.

Waves of laughter and shared trials

Weave us deeply in these times.

A balance of the light and the darkness

As we learn to go in grace.

We walk down paths together,

For we aren't meant to be alone.

But see,

Even these well worn paths have different trails -

Some of us are called down those

That take us far from the place we were.

Some climb the mountains,

Others, the valley depths -

Some wade through puddles,

While others swim through the oceans -

But none of it is meant to be traveled alone.

That's why I'm so glad to have you.

Sometimes I feel like my heart lives in a hundred different places,

Because you're not always by my side.

We walk together for a time

But there's always new horizons, and sometimes,

You go different ways from me.

As we travel down these roads of life, we come together

And sometimes part -

But I know we're all headed to the same Kingdom,

And we'll meet again there. 

There -

Where all the dust and grime will be washed from our feet,

And we'll find our true Rest.

So though my heart lives with so many now,

In hundreds of different places -

Someday we will all dance on the same shoreline

And we'll forever be with the Creator

Who set us into motion

Out of Love.

It's a peaceful thought.

~ZA

Morning Joys

         

June 1st I woke up with, “Colors of The Wind” stuck in my head, and these are the lyrics that came about because of it.

     Below is also a recording of me singing it. :D

-

There's a story that's inside me, though it falters,

I tried to learn to sing it, though I fell -

But Yours has filled me, and it has conquered,

And I feel, as it fills me, as it swells.

And I am ready now to follow with You,

To dance along the shoreline and be free -

For I know that You hear, and see and love me - 

And You're always, You're always here with me.

Do you ever really wonder what it means to rise,

To stand amid the silence and just know, 

That wherever He is leading it is perfect,

Wherever He is going, I will go.

For the waves will crash around me, and I may then fear,

But He is my assurance, and my stay -

And I never need to fear my life's journey

For He knows the steps to lead me on His way.

Yes He knows the steps to lead me on. His. Way.

~ZA

Light's Edges

Other People's Secrets 

This video inspired the emotion of this writing... Listening to their stories feels like.... watching someone dragging their fears from the dark and into the shadows. It's not labeled as theirs, but it's on the edge of the light - and that at least is a step in the right direction...

Light's Edges

5/5/16

There are shadows

Touching

Edges,

Memories,

Pieces of your past...

And you don't know how to let them go.

Do not be afraid -

There is One who has seen your darkness and sings for you to come.

Drag your darkness into the shadows.

He will bear the load, should you let Him.

Press your fears to the very edge of the Light...

Now hold it there.

Wait.

Push it a little closer to the warmth.

Breathe.

Fight the desire to flee again to the blackness.

Let your fears begin to melt in the Light.

Slowly.

Slowly -

Press your darkness into the warmth so it can be seen.

Let Him pry your fingers from their trembling hold

And let it go.

Relax as the Light spills over you.

Now rest, for His Dawn is upon you.

~ZA

Good Friday

Original Picture Link

This poem was inspired by Mirriam Neal's words last night:

Good Friday 

3/26/16

In that moment, I would not have called that day, “Good”.

Soul wrenching.

Gruesomely unjust...

But not “Good”.

No... Not “Good.”

As His mother sobbed

As her precious son was hung to die -

As the women wept

And others watched in silence -

As He hung there, bloodied and beaten,

And some in the crowd mocked Him...

Ah... No.

I could see no good in that day.

For in those moments all I saw

Was loss,

Fear,

Death...

All I could see was the man who'd healed the sick,

Loved the outcasts

And brought us hope,

Gasping for breath, crying out for a drink,

And slowly dying.

All I saw was misery.

Looking back now -

Knowing what I know of the empty tomb,

The joyful reunions,

The Risen Savior -

I can truly call it, “Good”.

But isn't it so much more than that?

It was more than “Good”.

It was Holy.

Holy in an earth-shaking,

Temple-curtain-rending way.

Holy in an awe filling,

Heart-aching way.

Holy in a life-changing,

Death defying way.

Holy -

As the Father turned His back on His Son -

And for the first time in eternity They were separated.

Holy.

As He cried out, “My God, my God! Why have you forsaken me?”

Holy.

As the angels stood and watched the God of Heaven

Dying.

Holy.

As He cried out, “It is finished!” and died.

Oh so Good... Oh so Holy.

Friday is called

“Good”, because Justice met with Mercy

And was satisfied...

My debt was paid in blood...

It is because of Grace that I quietly acknowledge,

Today is more than merely a “Good Friday”.

Today is the day my filth was wrapped in a strong embrace -

Today is the day He named me His child, set apart from eternity.

He exchanged my rags for a robe,

And my freedom was won for me...

So yes,

Oh yes -

I can say today is blessedly Good –

And so much more than that.

Today is the day He gave me His Life

So I could Live.

It is Good.

~Ophelia - Marie Flowers

Dance with Me

Pinterest

In the darkness, Jesus is there... and He wants us to trust Him enough to keep dancing, even when we can't see. He never changes. He never lets go. He loves us perfectly... Keep looking up to Him, little child.

 Dance with Me

3/10/16

Wait in the emptiness with quiet expectation,

For though the night presses in around you

With a silence that seems unbearable

The stars are there

If you will only look up.

Listen.

Do you hear the gentle voice of the Father?

“Be still.

Be still, dear child.

I am beside you.

Here – grasp My hand.

Here I am.

Tighten your grip in the darkness;

Come dance with Me.

Let Me lead you through the steps -

Move in time with Me.

Dance to the beat of My loving heart.

I have wrapped My arms around you -

Now let us dance to the dawn.”

~ZA

The Importance of Stories – For You Are A Writer

Photo Credit - Unsplash 

The Importance of Stories – 

For You Are A Writer 

12/29/15 

I saw myself in your writing tonight.

I saw the parts that make me laugh

And some days I hope for.

Even if the characters are on a created world, 

Or are a made-up creation of you,

And don't ever mention history,

Or the Bible - 

In good writing,

They still matter.

They matter because they are built on real emotions.

They are built on the things that make you laugh,

The things that make you sad,

The things that you're hopeful for,

Or angry at -

Your emotions and imagination can be captured

In bits of writing...

If you let them.

I believe writing - 

Creating -

Is a way we remind each other:

“You are not alone.”

“I know what this feels like.”

“I've been here before.”

“I understand.”

I understand this laughter.

This hope,

Joy,

Anger,

Weariness,

Wonder -

I understand – 

And though you've never lived the crazy story my character has,

They are echoing true emotions

I've experienced,

Or understand from others...

In this way, they are important.

They are real.

I believe we feel connected most to writing we see ourselves in -

As who we are now

Or who we hope to be.

We write characters we want to be -

We write strengths we wish to gain -

We write broken lives that show our understanding of sorrow -

We write friendship 

And laughter

And pile it with the things that are meaningful to us,

And bits of longing -

We write life as we're seeing it today -

Or how we hope to see it tomorrow.

There will always be those who don't see themselves

When they look at your writing.

They will try to place a box in their mind 

To categorize who you are

And what you've created.

They will assume that everyone looks

And sees they way they do.

They will think

You waste your time over something 

No one cares about....

In well-meaning ways 

They will try to get you to let go

Of something that is beautiful.

And

Though you can respect their place in your life:

Your words are not for them.

You did not write for them.

They can not declare your words invalid 

Just because they don't understand.

You have not created to touch their heart...

Don't let that make you believe 

You can't touch anyone.

I saw myself today -

Because you wrote something real.

Perhaps it's imperfect,

But even so it is filled in reality

Of true feelings...

Your words say as a quiet echo -

“I understand.”

On the basest of levels I know you wrote well 

Simply in the fact 

I related to your words -

And I smiled.

In the end -

I'm not sure it even matters if you ever publish -

Though that would be wonderful...

What matters the most,

Is finding joy in something 

God gave you to 

Enjoy.

God is a God who writes -

Who wrote through people,

In different styles

And voices,

And in many different books.

He gives us the gift to create 

So we can reflect Him in this way.

No matter where your words take you

When you write Truth -

True emotions,

True relationships,

True bravery,

True brokenness,

True life -

I believe God finds joy...

Because you are using a gift 

He delighted to give you.

Never be ashamed that you have 

The Talent 

The Joy

The gift

To see the world 

Differently.

Never be ashamed that you see stories

Deeper

Layered

Meaningful -

In ways that others don't have eyes for.

Never be ashamed that stories excite you

And you are inspired to create.

Never be ashamed that words comfort you

And allow you to express 

When you aren't sure what to say.

Never be ashamed that you find strength in creating,

Even when you doubt your own abilities.

Never be ashamed that there are times you write little -

For no matter the voices of others, 

Or your own voice you have to fight in your head:

You are a writer.

You are a person who enjoys things of beauty.

You are a person who relates to others' creations.

You are a person who sees the pieces of story 

Others would miss.

You are a person who understands what it takes

To create well

And you're trying to learn even more.

So enjoy the little things.

The beautiful things.

The stories of others that entrance you

And the stories you're trying to create.

Enjoy them,

Because God made you to do so

In this wonderful way

That allows you

To be uniquely yourself.

~ZA

Moments Between

Photo Credit - Unsplash

(Emotions from being with people I love...)

I live in the moments between the memories -
Seeing the fragments as pieces
Waiting to become whole.

I come alive in wild laughter
And linger on the edges of peaceful dreams.
Colors wash through me as echoes
As I relive every joyful moment -
The ones that created me.

I sing
In the moments between here and then
Filling the spaces to remember
Every piece that brought us here.

I am in the simple things;
Out of sight,
Almost silent
Until I break free to dance.
Whirling
Bounding
Swirling through the stories
We live every day.

I live in the moments between the memories -
Knowing fragmented pieces
Will one day become whole.

~ZA

If He Loved The Broken

The Garden of Gethsemane - taken by a friend when she was in Israel.

If He Loved The Broken 

9/24/13

If Jesus knew your story,

Do you think that He would care?

Did you know that He is watching?

He's seen the pain within your stare.

If He could heal a leper,

And cast a demon to its knees,

Then He cares about the broken.

He hears His children's pleas.

If He could calm the ocean,

And bring dead men from the grave,

Then He has the power to rescue;

He has the strength to save.

If He could feed the thousands,

And change water into wine,

Then He can change what's little,

And fulfill every need of mine.

If He prayed for His disciples,

Though they all would run away,

All Heaven cries this echo,

“Lord, free Your child today!”

If He trod the path of sorrow,

And heard His friends all weep,

Then He knows the pain of loving

And the knife that cuts so deep.

If He loved the man beside Him -

A criminal left to die -

Then I know He holds forgiveness,

Though I stumble and I cry.

If He had the will to suffer,

Enduring every lash and scorn,

Then I pray that He'll remind us,

He loves us though we're torn.

~ZA

Pretending To Breathe - Short Story

Pinterest

                                                             (**I have no plans to write this in full. It's simply an idea. **)

"You were born not breathing - in fact, you didn't breathe until your first birthday."

That's how my mother always began the story of my birth. We would sit out together under the stars and she'd tell the tale. The tale of how I never once took a breath, or even cried when I was born. Though all the windows were shut, a breeze wrapped around both of us and mussed her hair. That's when she knew - I would never truly breathe, but I would be hungrier for the air than most people ever are... 

That first year, she told the people of the town she was off to visit her sister in the mountains, and we lived alone in a hunting cottage. That's what she tells me. 

I vaguely remember her teaching me to breathe. The steady beat of: in - out - in - out - until it became almost second nature. When I was maybe four, after we'd moved back to town, she taught me about the different kinds of breathing. We practiced panicked fast breathing, and deep gasps after running, and regular breaths for keeping up appearances. Whenever we went out of the house together, she'd gently tap me on the nose and say, "Remember to breathe, Fenn." For those first few years, I thought that was normal.

I was about six when I asked her about my father.  To her credit, she didn't lie to me and say he was some great man, off in the world... She simply told me they met one day when the King's soldiers went through town - and she never saw him again, or knew his name... 

On my tenth birthday, as she again told me the story of my birth, I asked her if she knew what I was.  I was different - I was beginning to realize how strangely different.  I felt the wind wrap around us, and I pulled it closer so that it swirled through the Asp trees. It was comforting... I understood it was something I shouldn't have been able to do.

 She didn't answer me for a long moment. Finally she said, "I'll tell you when you're older." In her tone there was no room to argue... But I could see in her eyes... she was afraid.

When I was thirteen, my mother married the baker, Tovis Keff. He is a good man, though I've never brought myself to think of him as a father.  Next month they are expecting their first child, and I am both excited and afraid for it... So much has changed in the last couple years, but I feel no closer to the answers.

Who am I? What am I?

Sometimes I go deep into the woods and let the wind roar through the trees. My mother wouldn't approve. I know that... but then, she'd probably rather I do it there, than unleash it within the town. I've done it before accidentally on a smaller scale... after that, she didn't let me out of the house for two weeks. She told everyone I was sick, until the air around me stopped dancing, and I was in control. 

Yesterday I turned fifteen... and my mother again didn't tell me what I am... She said I am better off not knowing. Tonight I sit on the edge of a cliff and look down into the darkness that the moon can't quite reach. Tomorrow I'm going to the King's Tournaments. I will become a soldier, and I will travel the continent until I find out what I am... Maybe I am dangerous, but don't I deserve to know? 

I stand up, feeling the breeze lap at my unkempt hair. The air covers my arms in goosebumps. I walk to the edge of the cliff - and jump.  The wind wraps around me, slowing the plunge, angling me gently. I let it fill my body with a thrumming ache as it howls up through the trees.

And then -

I stop pretending to breathe.

~Ophelia - Marie

Come Delight

Picture

Stop.

Pause.

Take a deep breath.

Sit back and ponder this for a moment with me.

Isaiah 57:15

15 For this is what the high and exalted One says—

he who lives forever, whose name is holy:

“I live in a high and holy place,

but also with the one who is contrite and lowly in spirit,

to revive the spirit of the lowly

and to revive the heart of the contrite.

------

         The high and exalted One lives in His people. Think about that. God is infinite, and yet He chooses to make His dwelling place in us .That's an amazing amount of Love... To be so Truly Good, and to live in ones so truly broken - and to love us all the more inspite of that.

           The other day I had a conversation about this... And still, today, those thoughts are rattling about in my head. *Grins* Do you ever just get excited as you ponder the Truth of who God is in you?

        As a friend said today on FB: "I'm pretty sure that if we could truly understand the love God has for us we wouldn't be able to stand up, let alone walk around."

          World changing, mind blowing, ever-present, perfect LOVE... *Grins* It just hit midnight, and I need to go to bed, but I also feel like writing an excitable post about the Love of God. But bed.

But look at this!

John 3:16 

 “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

Romans 5:8 

But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Galatians 2:20 

I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me.

Ephesians 2:4-5 

But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ— by grace you have been saved—

1 John 4:9-11 

In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.

Zephaniah 3:17

 The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.

         That is a lot of Love...

        So - back where I was going with this, and then I'm going to sleep - I ended up scrawling half of this poem all over my bulletin margins this morning. Now I've semi organized it, and written some more. It's far from perfected - kinda like this blog post... but in this moment late tonight - it's simple joy... God is good.

______________________________________

Come delight in His glory.

Come laugh with me in joyous awe as He thunders,

"I Am the Alpha and Omega.

The beginning and end."

Lift your hands in wonder.

Raise your voice to join the song of the nations.

Echo the call as generations of people

From every stretch of the Earth,

Pour out in powerful worship,

"Holy!

Holy!

Holy!

Is the LORD God Almighty -

Who Was and Is 

And Is to come!"

Try to grasp in this moment

The Majesty of our Father.

Look to Him -

Laugh.

Weep.

See the nail-scarred Master,

Love bright in His eyes,

Smile upon us - His precious Children.

Be enveloped in a Love that spans into Eternity.

Feel the One who set the world into motion

Gently

Touch 

You.

Come see the Lover of your soul.

Come delight in His glory.

~ZA