Psalms 23

I am currently reading A Shepard Looks At Psalms 23 by: W. Phillip Keller. He is a preacher and former shepard from North Africa. His book goes through Psalms 23 line by line explaining the meaning from a shepard's point of view; as David was in writing the Psalm. 

This book was a gift from someone who has been guiding me on my journey to finding myself in Christ and in this crazy world. For the first, I'd probably say, 3 months I was given this book I read the first chapter and a half and then didn't pick it up again; shrugging it off as just another "Christianity" book. He kept urging me every week to pick it up again and start reading it. I made every excuse I could find to not read it. I would grab a textbook instead or even start another devotional book with my bible (which wasn't a bad thing). But I was putting off this gift.

I finally picked the book up today when I got off work and decided to give it a try before I saw my Guide (as I will be calling him) again this week.

What I discovered captured my heart like I never would have imagined...

 "We may rest assured that He will never expect us or ask us to face more than we can stand. But what He does expose us to will strengthen and fortify our faith and confidence in His control." -W. Phillip Keller

 How many times do we catch ourselves asking God the question 

"Why?"

Instead of simply letting go of a situation and telling God that we trust Him and His judgment. 

Is He not all powerful, almighty, and all knowing?

Where do we get off asking HIM that question?

God should be asking us that question when we mess up or stray from His perfect plan and disobey Him. He should look at us with those big gorgeous eyes that sparkle with the 200-400 billion stars in our galaxy alone and ask us,

"Why?"

Instead He gives us circumstances that are made to strengthen our faith and to make our confidence in His absolute control steadfast. 

So we may be certain that our God is with us 100% of the time and nothing less!

 

Silencing the Voices

The voices in my head are that of my own subconscious. They are my thoughts scurrying to unravel. A mess of ideas, revelations, creations of my imagination.

In 8th grade I discovered the most fascinating subject that captured my mind, Psychology. I had been wondering and asking around how I could learn more about the human mind and what it meant to be who we are and how we got to be this person. Then someone told me of this wonderful study of the mind. At once I began searching the Internet and textbooks for the meaning of this word and the depths of it's research. I have just finished my Sophomore year of college on this subject and my quest is continuing.

Since I can remember my mind has been that of a high speed train with no brakes. I have stacks and stacks of unfinished journals, tons of scrap pages with scribblings, loads of files on many computers with nothing but jargon to anyone but me. My quest to better understand Psychology may well in fact be a quest to interpret my own encrypted mind. 

In speaking with a trusted soul earlier today I finally mentioned the intensity of my thought process; the confusion and restlessness it brings upon me. He posed an interesting question... one I had never thought of before. He asked, "Where does your mind go when it races?"

Where does it go?

I had never thought of the relevance of this question before. My reply was simply "I don't know." but my heart and mind were both saying the same thing... "Darkness."

Though I answered a lie this wise man knew the truth. He looked at me and asked "Do your thoughts lead to creativity or to anxiety and worry?"

Both.

My mind is so complex that if I were to allow it to worry and feel anxiety it would simply EXPLODE. I have no choice but to create a poem or a reflection of my worry and anxiety. Thus, I come up with short stories, paintings, novels, or a simple reflection that allows me to slowly unravel the ball of yarn that is growing inside of my head.

He gave me this verse which calmed my mind and gave me the tiniest piece of solitude that I needed just for that moment.

"You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock." (Isaiah 26:3-4)

I will keep my mind on the Lord and my trust in Him and I will be fine. I pray that if I focus on this verse and His word alone maybe my mind can find rest.

I realize that I am so used to studying something, to researching something. But now it is time to rest. Insomnia can hold me no longer. My mind is focused on the Lord so that I will find perfect peace that only He can provide. Now then, I welcome sleep.  

Good Night, Mind.

Insomnia

Darkness floods my room.

My breaths are slow and shallow.

My eyes burn and my eyelids beg to fall yet my adrenaline won't allow it.

I watch the shadows of the trees behind my blinds dance in the night.

I think of nothing... Contemplate nothing.. Realize nothing.

My mind has not yet fallen into that blissful slumber but has been trapped in a world between...

                            A purgatory.

Exhaustion and adrenaline meet and explore every inch of my being, fighting for territory.

Yet my body and mind forever lie restless in this bed, watching the shadows, thinking of nothing, and day dreaming of a peaceful coma. 

Erupt

You know that moment when you feel as though your head is going to explode?!

The moment when your very brain turns into blazing lava and your skull is the volcano ready to erupt on the next person who sets you off?!

You’re unable to step one foot in front of the other.

You can’t get your words out the way you said them to yourself in your head.

Your fingers won’t mold this piece of clay into the masterpiece you see behind your eyes.

You try to push on and you try to keep going but you stumble, you fall, you break.

You’re pushed, you’re shoved, and you’re buried.

You scream! You cry! 

But no one even blinks their eyes.

The desperate moment when you try your hardest to breath but the air is too thick with the tension that you’ve created from your own volcano of anger.

You have that dire need to be free from all this transgression that you’ve chained yourself to, like a bike on a rake.

You quiet your screams in the comfort of a soft pillow.

You cry until all your tear ducts run dry.

Your body falls limp.

Your mind grows tired.

You’re emotionless for the moment for the moments have claimed them all.

The feeling of relief creeps through your veins like liquid.

Your skin crawls with chills from the sudden removal of baggage.

You feel as if you could close your eyes and float into the heavens.

The release of emotional lava has crept its way through your ears, eyes, throat, and has found its way out of your life for this moment.

So enjoy this moment for these moments come so inconsistently.

They need be treasured… for you will inevitably erupt again.

Go. Write. Create.

As my fingers glide across the keyboard the rush of new ideas and new conclusions flood my mind like a dam that has been broken over a lost city. My fingers caress the keys as if holding on for dear life, as if to take my next breath I must continue this thought.

People around me are but whispers, the birds outside are only a soft hum, the only sound that echoes in my ears is that of my own voice inside my head repeating the words that are now flowing individually through each delicate finger to be so carefully placed on this page. 

I must look as though I am a student of some high university or graduate program the way my focus is so geared towards my computer screen. Yet this is my release; my outburst of energy, my cure for the days disgusting ills! This is my calming motivator to relax my mind and simply move forward with each placing letter. 

I pause to sip my tea, to check my phone, to watch a bird perch itself high upon a branch to rest for the night; then I climb inside my mind and allow my fingers to take me on another adventure through this winding black and white page.

Our minds create our own adventures. Sister (as I introduced in my post Summer Sonnets) used to read to me some of the most incredible stories of sword fights, ships, princes, and love when I was little. I would lie in bed with my eyes closed and just listen to her voice and imagine myself in the stories themselves.

I believe this is where my imagination and love for writing came from. I thank her for the introduction and encouragement she gave me to continue with that passion. It was her idea for me to start this blog. 

Which has been my “go-to” when I’ve needed to vent.

I encourage everyone to read. Begin your adventures there. Learn what you like, what kicks your mind into gear, and then GO. Write your own story. No story is ever lame or unsatisfactory if it comes from your own creative mind. Every human being is different, thus every writing style will be different and unique in its own fashion. Writing is a passion and a hobby of mine. I hope that if it is any of yours that you will feel brave enough to share it with someone; a loved one, a friend, or even me if I may be so honored! Just...

write! 

 

It’s beautiful and it’s the biggest stress-reliever I have found to date.

Power of Words

Words, more than actions, have the ability to darken the soul.

They are like salt scrapped over a fresh wound, lighter fluid poured over a soft flame, or a boulder thrown into a quiet pond.

They disturb the serene aura of an innocent being, causing all matters of evil and chaos to cripple the heart.

Words, like war, turn people against one another. Those that loved begin to hate.

But words can also mend. Used correctly they have the ultimate power to turn what was destroyed into something new; something beautiful and magnificent.

A heart that has been buried by cruelty can be reborn by the whisper of a kind word.

Though tough to forgive once a pure heart has felt the sting of a harsh tone, it is possible to restore with the touch of a gentle voice.

People are fragile creatures like that of the wildflower. It grows in the valley and can withstand even the harshest of storms, but once stomped on it will hardly regain its splendor. So be kind to one another. For each soul is precious and every heart is tender, once broken may take longer to restore.

Summer Sonnets

Summer is obviously here.

I have begun writing to the tune of the ocean in my head. My poetry is that of the sea. 

My  fondest memories of my childhood were those of family vacations. We had a town house in Panama City Beach, Florida. The four of us, sometimes all of us (all 8 when my oldest sister and her children would come with us), would drive six hours and spend a week just playing in the pool, at the beach, mini golf, or at the tennis courts.

 My sister, who I actually by name call "Sister", and I would feel so hip when Deddy (what we all of us Watson girls call our father) would drive through downtown with the windows down and "Yeah" by Usher turned up real loud. Sister and I can remember this one time when it was on every radio station as we were driving and it was playing through every radio in every car we passed. 
We all laughed hysterically at this irony.

I guess that's why my thoughts suddenly stray to the beach at times such as this. When everyone has separated and started their own lives and gone their own way.

My oldest sister, Misti, is married to a wonderful man and has three beautiful children and a lovely home.
My other sister, Amber (who I just call Sister), is also married to her college sweetheart and they have two adorable baby pups and are fixing up a gorgeous mountain home.
I on the other hand am just finding my place in this big wide world. I have a loving boyfriend and wonderful friends and the most supportive family anyone could've ever asked for. But I still ask God for guidance everyday.

I guess now you're wondering about those poems and reflections. Well wait no more.

Good-Bye to the Sea

I stand at the edge of the sea

The ocean is dancing towards me

I watch his vessel vanish

The tears I cry are banished

The light is wadding in the waves

As the darkness veils this cave

The wind whistles through the rocks

The crab scurry when the birds knock

I call this home

I am now alone

His duty is to the sea

and finally the one that describes me personally...


 

          I Am a Traveler

I watch from the shore as the sun sets over the horizon.

My heart has already greeted the coming darkness,

For my heart lies beyond these tumbling waves.

The saltiness of my tears resembles that of the ocean.

I long to feel the adjacent shore beneath my feet

And feel the warmth of my love.