It's September 20th today, and as I was shopping for basics at the Dollar Store, I stumbled across the CHRISTMAS aisle!!! Yes, I said it!!!! CHRISTMAS!!! I was literally trying to contain my sheer JOY!!!
Have I mentioned how much I LOVE LOVE LOVE CHRISTmas?!?! Seriously!!!
I nearly bought a CHRISTmas tree tonight!!! And it's not even Halloween. And it's not even Thanksgiving. But I very nearly bought a tree to put up tonight!!! I'm feeling the NEED for CHRISTmas lights!!!
*smiling*
Friday, September 20, 2013
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Bucket List Thoughts: September
Thinking today of my
Bucket List.
All the Things I'd like to do
In the time remaining:
I'd like to publish a book--
A non-fiction motivational
AND a juvenile fiction novel
AND a children's book.
I'd like to be interviewed on TV--
Something that inspires people
To love themselves and others
More than they've ever loved before.
I'd like to travel to foreign lands:
Spain and France and Israel,
Ireland and England (again),
Maybe even China or Australia!
I'd like to visit every continent,
Go scuba diving, parasailing,
Meet Joel and Victoria Osteen,
Collaborate on a produced screenplay.
I'd like to get a celebrity-style makeover,
Lose weight, take a ballet class,
Learn to play guitar, write music,
Perform in a coffee shop.
These are just a few of the things
I would like to do in my life:
But most of all, and above all,
My heart's desire is to please The Lord.
Bucket List.
All the Things I'd like to do
In the time remaining:
I'd like to publish a book--
A non-fiction motivational
AND a juvenile fiction novel
AND a children's book.
I'd like to be interviewed on TV--
Something that inspires people
To love themselves and others
More than they've ever loved before.
I'd like to travel to foreign lands:
Spain and France and Israel,
Ireland and England (again),
Maybe even China or Australia!
I'd like to visit every continent,
Go scuba diving, parasailing,
Meet Joel and Victoria Osteen,
Collaborate on a produced screenplay.
I'd like to get a celebrity-style makeover,
Lose weight, take a ballet class,
Learn to play guitar, write music,
Perform in a coffee shop.
These are just a few of the things
I would like to do in my life:
But most of all, and above all,
My heart's desire is to please The Lord.
Dream Chasing
This Great Slowing Down
I've been experiencing
Has made me wonder
About the time I have left:
Is it time to abandon
The Dream Chasing?
Many things are vying
For the time I have
And I only have
So much to give...
Have I past my prime
For Dream Chasing?
There are days I try
To convince myself
That dreaming dreams
Is for the young.
But is there such a thing
As Old Dream Chasers?
In my quiet moments,
I am inspired to believe
That everything I have
Envisioned could happen.
Might I then engage
In this Dream Chasing?
What have I to lose
For trying?--If I fail,
At least I've tried, and
If I achieve it, I achieve it.
Move over for This Girl:
I'm still Dream Chasing!
I've been experiencing
Has made me wonder
About the time I have left:
Is it time to abandon
The Dream Chasing?
Many things are vying
For the time I have
And I only have
So much to give...
Have I past my prime
For Dream Chasing?
There are days I try
To convince myself
That dreaming dreams
Is for the young.
But is there such a thing
As Old Dream Chasers?
In my quiet moments,
I am inspired to believe
That everything I have
Envisioned could happen.
Might I then engage
In this Dream Chasing?
What have I to lose
For trying?--If I fail,
At least I've tried, and
If I achieve it, I achieve it.
Move over for This Girl:
I'm still Dream Chasing!
Not Enough Time
There's not enough time in the world
To do what is on my heart to do.
When I dare to dream of what could be,
I remind myself that I need to be up
Doing something about it.
When I consider all there is to accomplish,
I find myself struggling to hold it all
In the fragile basket I carry in my hands--
And I realize there are only so many things
That I will be able to carry in my lifetime.
There's just not enough time--
And when I sit and think about it,
Part of me wants to shut down,
Close the doors to my energy,
Take a siesta...
But there's not enough time for that, either--
Trying to convince myself that I can
Somehow slow time is a delusion
That I cannot afford to adopt:
This is it--and it's got to be enough.
This is all I get.
To do what is on my heart to do.
When I dare to dream of what could be,
I remind myself that I need to be up
Doing something about it.
When I consider all there is to accomplish,
I find myself struggling to hold it all
In the fragile basket I carry in my hands--
And I realize there are only so many things
That I will be able to carry in my lifetime.
There's just not enough time--
And when I sit and think about it,
Part of me wants to shut down,
Close the doors to my energy,
Take a siesta...
But there's not enough time for that, either--
Trying to convince myself that I can
Somehow slow time is a delusion
That I cannot afford to adopt:
This is it--and it's got to be enough.
This is all I get.
Wasting Time
I worry about nights spent
Doing nothing in particular;
On one hand, necessary
To let my mind wander;
But on the other hand,
I wonder what I could have
Accomplished in the minutes
I will never get back.
But this is what they call
Wasting Time.
While I'm sitting, feeling numb,
Lazily placated by mindless
Chatter, shows and songs
That I'll never remember,
There are moments when
I hear the precious tick tock
Within me, trying to rouse me:
I know there is only so much left.
This is what I call
Wasting Time.
Doing nothing in particular;
On one hand, necessary
To let my mind wander;
But on the other hand,
I wonder what I could have
Accomplished in the minutes
I will never get back.
But this is what they call
Wasting Time.
While I'm sitting, feeling numb,
Lazily placated by mindless
Chatter, shows and songs
That I'll never remember,
There are moments when
I hear the precious tick tock
Within me, trying to rouse me:
I know there is only so much left.
This is what I call
Wasting Time.
Friday, September 13, 2013
New Things
I love it when God brings
New Things
Seemingly out of nowhere
Into our lives.
Always so exciting,
New Things--
Failing not to
Renew the spirit.
Never an end to the
New Things:
This walk with God
Anything but boring.
Renewing our minds--
New Things
He brings into our lives
To Encourage us.
Been awhile since your
New Things?
You're one moment
Closer to your Promise!
New Things
Seemingly out of nowhere
Into our lives.
Always so exciting,
New Things--
Failing not to
Renew the spirit.
Never an end to the
New Things:
This walk with God
Anything but boring.
Renewing our minds--
New Things
He brings into our lives
To Encourage us.
Been awhile since your
New Things?
You're one moment
Closer to your Promise!
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Americana: I Never Said Good-bye
Just a kid playing in her bedroom,
Surrounded by dolls and books,
Listening to the Grown Ups
Laughing and Reminiscing
In the Family Room.
When they call for supper,
I leave my private oasis
And journey into the kitchen
To enjoy the fruits of labor
To which I never contributed.
But, oh, how I enjoyed the company!
The stories, the laughter, the joy;
These were survivor stories,
These were people whose Faith
Had carried them through dark streets.
And I would grin widely, cramming
A last biscuit or piece of toast
Into my mouth before I excused
Myself and left for the comfort
Of my own universe.
Still, I could hear them, their voices
Ricocheting off of interior walls,
Walls where family photos and
Mirrors and cande-sticks made us
Believe we were LIVING a good life!
Somehow, absorbed in my room,
I failed to notice when they all departed;
When the laughter finally died out
And silence sat like a heavy load
On empty furniture.
"Where had they gone?" I wondered,
With a sense of growing desperation
When I called and no one answered.
"Mom?" I whispered. And again.
Not a sound. Not a movement.
"Mom..." I said frantically,
Leaving dolls and dreams,
Racing into the hallway
Where all the photos had been.
They were missing.
This wasn't my house! Not really!
Though I recognized what was left
To be something of mine,
I couldn't see the rest of them.
They weren't here.
I looked for empty cups and mess
But that, too, was just a memory.
There was nothing left here now.
Nothing that I remembered.
"Where are you, Momma?" I cried.
Collapsing in a chair in the eerily
Quiet living room, I resist
The inclination to panick.
My heart, my body, my muscles
Seizing at the Realization:
They're gone. It's all gone.
Everything that really mattered to me:
Love and laughter, family, faith.
If I close my eyes, I can still see it.
Now all a distant memory.
"I never said good-bye."
Surrounded by dolls and books,
Listening to the Grown Ups
Laughing and Reminiscing
In the Family Room.
When they call for supper,
I leave my private oasis
And journey into the kitchen
To enjoy the fruits of labor
To which I never contributed.
But, oh, how I enjoyed the company!
The stories, the laughter, the joy;
These were survivor stories,
These were people whose Faith
Had carried them through dark streets.
And I would grin widely, cramming
A last biscuit or piece of toast
Into my mouth before I excused
Myself and left for the comfort
Of my own universe.
Still, I could hear them, their voices
Ricocheting off of interior walls,
Walls where family photos and
Mirrors and cande-sticks made us
Believe we were LIVING a good life!
Somehow, absorbed in my room,
I failed to notice when they all departed;
When the laughter finally died out
And silence sat like a heavy load
On empty furniture.
"Where had they gone?" I wondered,
With a sense of growing desperation
When I called and no one answered.
"Mom?" I whispered. And again.
Not a sound. Not a movement.
"Mom..." I said frantically,
Leaving dolls and dreams,
Racing into the hallway
Where all the photos had been.
They were missing.
This wasn't my house! Not really!
Though I recognized what was left
To be something of mine,
I couldn't see the rest of them.
They weren't here.
I looked for empty cups and mess
But that, too, was just a memory.
There was nothing left here now.
Nothing that I remembered.
"Where are you, Momma?" I cried.
Collapsing in a chair in the eerily
Quiet living room, I resist
The inclination to panick.
My heart, my body, my muscles
Seizing at the Realization:
They're gone. It's all gone.
Everything that really mattered to me:
Love and laughter, family, faith.
If I close my eyes, I can still see it.
Now all a distant memory.
"I never said good-bye."
Ripped from the Headlines
Most folks don't even spend much time
Reading over headlines news
Or watching glammed up spokesmodels
Reading script scrolling before
High-tech camera lenses.
Not anymore, anyway.
Most folks don't even want to know
What the headlines say today--
Because beyond the Entertainment
And Travel sections lie a gritty
Cesspool of a Reality
No one cares to see.
Most folks don't realize that
Everything they once knew--
And still hold in their hearts to be true--
Does not exist as it once did.
Maybe the DO suspect it, deep down, but
No one wants to believe it.
Most folks read over headlines
But avoid reading the fine print
Because it is in all the tedious reading
That one might "read between the lines"
And realize that something is amiss.
(No one wants to admit it.)
Most folks live day-to-day, blissfully
Oblivious to the stirring winds
Breezing past them, beneath them;
And I wonder, when the quake
Causes earth to swallow them if
"No one will notice it."
There's "Most Folks" and then there's "Me";
I wonder the responsibility in SEEING
Yet being utterly POWERLESS to do
Or say anything to Right the Wrongs.
What can this girl do, please? Can
No one can tell me?
----------------------------------------------------------
This poem was written in the a.m., after reading news headlines only, online.
Reading over headlines news
Or watching glammed up spokesmodels
Reading script scrolling before
High-tech camera lenses.
Not anymore, anyway.
Most folks don't even want to know
What the headlines say today--
Because beyond the Entertainment
And Travel sections lie a gritty
Cesspool of a Reality
No one cares to see.
Most folks don't realize that
Everything they once knew--
And still hold in their hearts to be true--
Does not exist as it once did.
Maybe the DO suspect it, deep down, but
No one wants to believe it.
Most folks read over headlines
But avoid reading the fine print
Because it is in all the tedious reading
That one might "read between the lines"
And realize that something is amiss.
(No one wants to admit it.)
Most folks live day-to-day, blissfully
Oblivious to the stirring winds
Breezing past them, beneath them;
And I wonder, when the quake
Causes earth to swallow them if
"No one will notice it."
There's "Most Folks" and then there's "Me";
I wonder the responsibility in SEEING
Yet being utterly POWERLESS to do
Or say anything to Right the Wrongs.
What can this girl do, please? Can
No one can tell me?
----------------------------------------------------------
This poem was written in the a.m., after reading news headlines only, online.
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