Sharing “Our Deepest Fear”

There is a great approach to ourselves by writer Marianne Williamson, that I want to share here on my blog. I hope it provokes you to wonder about your greatest fear and that it speaks to you wherever you are a this moment in your life. Enjoy!

“Our Deepest Fear” by Marianne Williamson (from her book “A Return to Love“)

Our deepest fear is not that we’re inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. Continue reading

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Here Comes April

Can you tell that it is coming?

Awakening just around the bend…

That season of life renewed and breaking free

A time for energy of regenerated surprise

It marks another year of my life

There is color and vibrancy ushered in

Like dancing into our lives as a lively girl

April twirls and glides about

With grace and gentleness such power springs forth

The sensations of birth and love

Even nature displays and enjoys

In all its tenderness such change comes about

With elation, with passion

April gives of love through life

Like a fire gives the warmth of light

Change is welcomed as pleasurable

When it is April that exudes its charms

An enchantment of grace-giving life born

That intoxicates us with mysterious awe

Enthralling while liberating

From fears and hibernating death

April is always coming,

Our receiving does not deem if it gives its best.

Enduring Hope

Why does hope have to be so much work?

Am I doing something wrong?

The intensity of my passions

It calls upon

Every thought so examined for support

Like a cheering song

I must muster courage and most times am alone

Expectations cannot be on others

I must do this climb solo

All of me it requires, all of me it takes

Because God wants for all of me

To enjoy what only hope can taste

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Wrestling with God

 

I find myself uncomfortable and I know I’m not at ease.

I recognize I’m fighting something, my stubbornness is apparent to me.

My efforts, my work, all the things I run around and do,

Don’t seem to accomplish much; there’s still always so much more to do.

Frustration has set in and I neglect to just be at peace,

Because I know what I truly want, yet I do things that don’t achieve them.

I’ve been trying to “be still”, to withdraw from busyness.

And I find that it is in my blood and nature and is hard to come off of.

I’m attracted to being busy, to doing it all on my own.

I’m fighting with myself and wrestling with God,

Like a cranky child only seeing that my blocks have fallen and I spilled my milk.

No…there is a reason for being still, there is a danger in staying busy…

I resign and simply surrender to God, realizing in my fits,

That wrestling with him is welcomed and he’ll participate,

But boy, it’s exhausting only for me and when I end up being still from tiredness anyways,

I see that either way God is at work for me and God always is.

 

Less Than an Atom

 

We are each really nothing, worth less than an atom…

Is what the man sitting across from me said…

From there, I heard everything he said

But began to witness someone trying to believe what he himself had discredited…

Man is so primitive,” he continued, “trained up and educated to hate and kill…”

The more he talked, the more horribly it fit together, it just did not connect,

Yet his words sounded familiar…I have heard them spoken and believed by others.

One remark had discredited all his other beliefs,

Even what he was trying to impress me with of his life…

His pictures of poor children he saw when visiting the Himalayas,

The theories and rational of his economic opinions he insisted on as truths,

Even up to his political assertions that lacked relativity,

Of no use for feeding the hungry people he was talking about – all talk.

Like an hourglass cracked and spilling out its sand…

It’s only a matter of seconds to see that all his other beliefs

Cannot be held together even by his own attempts.

Foolish, faulty, and contradictory is what came to my mind.

His passion behind his words, his emotional fervor and energy,

As he went on and on talking at me, rather than with me…

And no wonder…after all, we’re worth less than an atom, in his mind.

My few replies were never finished, he interrupted them all.

Until I finally managed to get out the words,

Why do you even care about all you just said so passionately?

About all the judgments you make and all that you think you know?

After all, according to you we all just amount to nothing…

You say we imagine God and create God as an idea,

As our own futile attempt to believe we mean something,

Our primitive nature to believe we’re special and there’s meaning to our life…

You have said all these things and that you believe that we’re worth less than an atom.”

Now, I respect differences and agree to disagree,

I may believe in God and you may not believe in God…

Yet where do you go with the belief that we’re worth nothing?

What devaluing of human life, what disregard for hope…

How embarrassing for this educated and traveled, lonely middle-aged man.

Just one belief, one principle, a thought or claim is all it takes…

For one to spout notions, to base one’s life and theories,

Into a foundation that is full of holes like a strainer…

It can hold no hope, no respect, no integrity or wisdom…

I felt deeply sad, looking at this man, seeing insecurity from deep inside he was trying to hide…

I felt tired, hearing his words go on and on in his self-battle of denial and desperate attempt to…

To not be lonely, to mean something…to mean something to someone.

And it dawned on me – I was looking into the face of the foolishness and ignorance that starts wars,

I was sitting across from the spirit of blinding hatred…

It disguises itself, even to its empty unknowing host, and wreaks genocide and death.

This is how it happened in the past, this is how it looks and sounds when it embodies,

This is how it can repeat itself and be carried out all over again…

 

Just Be a Friend

“…praying for you…” and “…turn to God…”

That’s what I hear them say.

Or at times it’s not even a phone call, but words emailed instead.

Do you know me? Have you spent time with me yet?

Who are you to speak into my life?

I have heard and read your words before

And they later turned to hurt me like a knife.

I hear your God is love, I’ve read it somewhere too,

And you say his son Jesus walked the earth and died for me and you.

Well how did this Jesus live and what did he say?

Was he a friend and did he hang out?

Did he get to know people in his day?

Or was he just talk, like you are, without knowing me in any way?

Cause I just need a friend, someone to know me and be there.

The words can come later and perhaps will make sense for my heart then.

But for your God’s sake, just stop it! Shut your mouth and talk less.

What? Is your God so strong that he needs you to speak at me but not even know me instead?

Is that the kind of friend he would be to me in the end?

How about trusting your God to show this love you talk about

By simply being a friend?

 

*This poem is dedicated to my mother, who God has used to teach me about his grace and unconditional love.

Religion

 

There is religion and then there is faith

Perhaps like the artist has canvas and paint, but they still need creativity.

Because, give it some thought and the parallel you’ll see,

That a canvas has its limits and paints can dry up and go bad.

Both materials are not perfect and they each at some point run out,

Yet creativity is the heart of the matter, is it not?

And it is creativity that art is based upon.

So when you think of religion, realize it has its limits,

For it is composed of people and people are imperfect,

But that does not mean it is faith or that faith is not real.

The heart of the matter, the root of it all,

Is that as humans we’re also spirit,

And are made to have faith in something, not nothing at all.

The desire and need is perfect, to have faith in something unseen,

Even if the materials like religion can go bad and let us down,

Faith is there and produces beautiful things,

Just as creativity results in beautiful things we see.