Wind Up Doll

I find it unfair
that you can wind me up
and watch me inch forward
as you
step back
and laugh, enjoying my broken stride
while I am powerless
to make you move

Alleluia

If it must be a part of me
(like a mole, a mark, or scar)
it better have some meaning.
After too much consideration
it's there
and it's permanent,
and it's an homage to the One
who gives abundantly all of these things:
gentleness and goodness and self control
and peace and hope and joy
and love and kindness and patience!
It's an exclamation of appreciation.
"Alleluia" it says.
He is crowned and at the Right Hand of the Father, it reminds me.
That ancient fish lodged in the post of a rugged cross
shows every man who we are.
We are called, equipped, adopted and elected.
We are His, and He IS Risen.
Was it necessary that His grace should extend to me like this?
Was I ever entitled to His mercy?
No.
Was it necessary for me to get a tattoo as a reminder of His great love?
No. However, He is glorified. He is praised.
And I say again, "Alleluia".
That will be my mantra for years to come
and it will echo into eternity when I join the angels
in singing:
"Holy Holy Holy is the Lord God Almighty
Who was and is and is to Come"

Scars

It seems strange to see your bruises

and the scars along your side

they remind me that the body's weak

they all look so much like mine

a soul indwells every crippled shell

and puts movement in each limb

the breath of God sustains us well

we see life anew again

I grow older every moment

but in you I understand

the frailty of this temple

makes me live with open hands

Failure

The idea of failure terrifies me.

These days I feel like I am failing in so many areas of my life.

I want to control failure. I want to defeat it so that it will never stare me in the face again.

I am running full speed ahead towards all perfection,

running into glass walls along the way,

falling down,

turning corners hoping for a clear path ahead,

hitting other elusive walls,

breaking bones,

crouching in the fetal position,

crying harsh and angry tears,

taking time to nurse my wounds,

getting up on my feet again,

walking in an attempt to be patient,

becoming impatient and running again,

hitting a glass wall,

falling down,

all just to end up pissed off at myself

for never

learning

to

be

patient.

"Seriously, Sarah, just STOP. Listen to yourself."

He reminds me lovingly,

"You are so shortsighted!"

Again He smiles knowingly, and offers His hand

while I turn up my nose

convinced

I can do it all on my own.

Dawg

Does anyone else see that crazed and mildly rabid bulldawg?

Yeah, that's me...

because I'm going to the University of Georgia, y'all.

Gooo dawgs! Sick 'em...woof woof woof woof!

For once in my life I may actually have a minute case of school spirit.

What's happening to me!!?

Sleep

and what if those words crossed my lips?

that I knew and understood already

the things you'd say

because I'd heard them in sleep

for years

Of Old

Days passed of barefeet in the summer grass,
mint leaves sprouting up from wet soil.
My mind drifts back there...
We all played rough with the football
and storm clouds rolled idly by.
Only a smattering of raindrops fell
and our young faces welcomed them.
Til this day I swear
that old house knew me, knew us,
before we were ever born.