Tag Archive | Rage

Where a Poem Belongs

“Where a poem belongs is here, in the warmth of the chest;
out in the world it dies of cold.” by Rumi

This was the introduction to a writing prompt today

The prompt itself was; What poem does your chest/breast/heart long for you to write. Give it voice now.

I am often surprised by the out come. 5 minutes. Who knew it would be enough to open up a heart?

I don’t know if it’s a poem just yet. It’s more a sense of belonging. Of safety. Of being right, even when you’re doing it wrong. YOU are right. The thing you did was not. You are free to express yourself without fear of someone’s critical retort.  As Rumi said, it belongs in your heart. In your breast. To stay warm. Not to feel the stabbing cold of … disappointment? No. Judgement. From ones who don’t understand. My poem will be of this. A safe place, where there is freedom to say what is real.

I am grateful I have found my hiding place. Peace now fills my heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Drama Queen



Have you ever thought of yourself as a “Drama Queen”?

Or has someone else called you that?

I don’t need a show of hands, so come on, tell yourself the truth.

Being a DQ is kind of cute.

When you’re five.


 

After that, it’s not too cute at all.


Have you ever just responded in tears to something, so totally over the top that you embarrassed yourself?


Worse yet, have you realized later that you didn’t even realize you were over the top?


How mortifying is that?


I’ve had seasons in my life where I could cry at stop signs.


During these times, there was great release for my heart.


A time where God did something in my heart, a touch of healing you might say.


I’ve also had seasons though, where tears would not come.


The wells seemed to be dried up.


Unfortunately, these times were more abundant in my life than the stop sign times.


The DQ was nowhere to be found.


The problem is that my heart was dried up too.


After long periods of dryness, I would erupt at the slightest provocation,


or no provocation at all.


The DQ would be back, but she took on a different form,


not so much with tears, as with anger and rage and bitterness.


This recalcitrant little girl stomps her feet and screams.


This little girl will not be denied her place on the stage.


There’s a problem though. This little girl isn’t five.


She is big enough now, that others better not get in her way.


Now, she should be mortified.


I had always seen my tears as a weakness.


God showed me recently that tears were actually a gift.


The hot, angry, mad tears, were actually a cleanser for my ravaged soul.


When those tears are allowed to flow, healing could begin.


No DQ required.


The ugly cry.


Just straight up, truthful, exhausting, healing, cleansing tears.


After that, I learned I was able to cry a quieter cry.


Tears of humility and repentance.


He is our God, and He is big enough to handle them.


In His hands they are truly a treasure.


Here’s the truth that God showed me on a particularly weepy day;


He will not waste our tears. He saves them in a bottle.


Why would He bother saving them, if they were useless?


Psalm 56:8 AMP ~ 8You number and record my wanderings; put my tears into Your bottle–are they not in Your book?


Psalm 56:8 TLB ~ 8You have seen me tossing and turning through the night. You have collected all my tears and preserved them in your bottle! You have recorded every one in your book.


Psalm 56:8 GNT ~ 8You know how troubled I am; you have kept a record of my tears. Aren’t they listed in your book?


No matter how you say it. We all have those times, those times when we cannot stop the tears from flowing and those times when tears just won’t come.


Don’t be afraid to cry.


God has a purpose for those tears.


He will one day show us what they were all for.


He does not save worthless things.