The Life and Times of Mikki: September 2009

9.27.2009

A Second Look At The Love Chapter: A Wedding Poem For Jon & Alicia

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.” 1 Corinthians 13:4-8a

Love me unconditionally—
At my worst, at my best,
Everywhere, all the time in between.
Take me for who I am… For who I can become,
Ask me to only be me, never someone else.
Encourage my dreams, share my hopes—
Let me cry on your shoulder when the weight of the world is too much to bear.
When it seems I’m not listening,
Let go of your frustration…look me in the eyes,
Hold my gaze so I know to pay attention.
Laugh at my jokes (even the really bad ones).
When I stay out too late with the guys,
Remember all the times I’ve remembered to call you saying I’m coming home late.
When I leave messes in my office gently remind me to organize it.
On the weekend when I give you a list,
Pretend you’ve been looking forward to mowing the lawn all week,
That there’s nothing you’d rather do than clean out the shed…
When I’m stressed about paying bills—hug me, tell me I provide well for our family.
When I wake restlessly at 2am
Tell me it was just a bad dream; tell me everything will be alright.
After a long day of endless complaints at work
Be the sunshine I come home to that brightens my mood.
Resist giving me ‘that’ look when
I come home with too many shopping bags—
Talk to me; tell me I look beautiful; then help me figure out what to return.
Laugh at my impressions (even the ones you don’t get)
In the middle of the argument forget about my past faux pas’;
Help me find the middle ground where we can meet.
When I don’t get my entire honey-do list completed,
Thank me for what I did get done.
When I wake with morning hair tell me you’ve never seen me prettier.
In the middle of the argument forget about all the disagreements
I’ve lost or been wrong about;
See with me that finding unity on the subject at hand is important.
When I forget to finish my errands for the week, make me laugh;
Let me see it’s not the end of the world.
When I’ve been on the computer too long hold back your sighs,
Say that you want me to spend my time on you.
Shower me with respect…
When I fall be there to pick me up,
When I stumble, catch me.
When I struggle, carry on with me.
At end of the day, in the morning, in the evening,
Every day, all hours…
Love me unconditionally.

Copyright Michelle Post

What Language Barrier?

yes there is

English and yes there is

Russian

but smiles

hugs

laughter

the universal language

of love

and faith

the walls that God breaks down

that seem so tall to us

are to him not even a trifle

yes there are differences

beyond language and yes

there are gaps

in understanding

but

in our similarities

and our Lord Jesus

together

we are one.

Still Here

Praise the Lord.
I can talk.
Say what is on my mind.
Raise that arm. Make a fist. Good.
Squeeze fingers. Good.
Wiggle toes? Check.
Follow the light…left….good.
Now right….okay, that will get better.
Give it time.
Be patient.
I am alive.
The miracle that is me continues,
Underneath all these wires and leads and IVs….
I am still here. Undiminished.
I am tired. I am sad. I am joyful. I am hopeful.
My strength will return,
And by God’s mercy and grace I will go on.
For it is in my weakness that God is strong.
It is in my brokenness before my Creator that I am whole.
And it is in my Savior Jesus that I live.
Praise the Lord.

© Michelle Post

Note: This was written a couple years ago in the ICU after my dad's worst stoke. He's doing much better now, praise the Lord.

Second Star to the Right

Who knew, who would have guessed that is could all be true?

That elves were real, ogres exist, fairy godmothers too.

That witches and princes, magic beans and yellow brick roads

Were there to be found on the other side of the rainbow?

I’ve been there you see, quite recently, and I’m telling you true.

Fairy tale lands exist outside of me and you.

Over yonder where the starlight sparkles

It’s back there past that moment in time when you decided to grow up.

Yes, you still imagine things. Suspend your disbelief but

Always as the credits roll, you return to your so-called reality.

That childlike innocence and wide-eyed wonder shone so brightly in our eyes,

I confess I no longer see in your countenance.

You may call me a fool, a child, insane.

But I know the truth you can't take away.

Perhaps one day you’ll ask me to help you find it again.

lullaby

swaying in the rocking chair

my eyes begin to droop

as daddy’s soft tenor

lulls me to sleep

i lean my head

against his chest

hear his heartbeat match

the gentle rocking

and as my father sings over me

i know i am safe

that thru the night

he’ll watch over me

in the doorway

he’ll stand and

listen to me breathe

at my side he’ll come

if he hears me crying and

in the morning when the dark has gone

he will come to wake me

Questions In The Night

"The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17

So sick, so emotional, hormones I think, but then I realize I’m under attack… not the sinful foothold the devil had up to tonight no the Holy Ghost took him out in Jesus’ name rebuked he fled the area of my heart and mind and soul and I prayed so earnestly for the Holy Ghost to take control. The weight of it off my shoulders, my fever at it’s peak, my headache strong and spreading from my tears of pain and joy… more tears come and when did these thoughts of fear enter into play? While I wasn’t watching, celebrating the victory He gave. Fear, so insidious like many sins and temptations, it sneaks in as genuine concern, so one thinks but soon God is not in control and indeed seems not to be there, a lie from the father of falsehoods, for God has not left me but my fear is blinding and my easy targets are under fire once more. Dad. My job. My life. My witness. My walk with the Creator. You know these fears and others of your own I'm sure, you know how this story goes. What if Dad has another stroke? What if I’m just a body at work? What if my life has the wrong purpose? What if my witness sucks? What if I’m faking it–all the smiles, the songs, the prayers, what if my relationship with the Alpha and Omega is a lie on my part? What if Daddy becomes a vegetable, the light in his eyes so bright, lively, understanding, and loving gone from us yet his shell clings on? Maybe worse yet, what if that light still shines so bright and he can’t share it? Can’t speak. Can’t sing. Can’t write. Can’t communicate. What then? How will I explain to my Mom when I quit and leave Indy moving to Kentucky to care for him by my Step-Mom’s side? What if Mom’s hurt by the past once again and this time I cause it? How can I live breaking my Mommy’s heart? What if I can’t do it? What if I chicken out and can’t sit there while he suffers? What if I runaway from the problems of my life once again? What if I never finish my resume? What if I stay and get complacent and never see the promise my life could be? What if I never let go of my money? What if I’m forever in debt? What if I’m doomed to be another stat? A faceless, nameless, nobody who leaves no legacy, no impact on this world I’m in? And slowly I hear the music in my head. Nicole. Her sweet voice singing verses I still haven’t memorized fully but know the gist of and a chorus I have sung to myself in the car. In the shower. Cleaning. At work. “What if you’re wrong? What if there’s more? What if there’s hope you never dreamed of hoping for? What if you jump? Just close your eyes…What if the arms that catch you, catch you by surprise? What if he’s more than enough?” And I begin to wonder again-what if Jesus is more than enough to take care of all these fears and more? Not just mine but yours. And yours. And his. And hers. Anyone’s. The last line echoes in my head as Nicole sings powerfully “What if it’s love?” and Jesus’ precious love for me spills over my soul anew and fresh. His mercies, new every morning, are fresh at midnight too. His love. Oh, His blood that covers me, scrubs away the sin, fear, and doubt so easily so freely when I cry out ‘forgive me Lord!’ And another voice in my head that is mine but not mine says (What sin child, what sin? What fear? Let it go. Take my hand. Here at the foot of the old rugged cross, leave the fear there. There’s a spot just for you. You are lovely. You are beautiful. I see you pure.) I am unworthy God. (No, you are my image child and you cannot help that!) Me? Wretched me? What if I can’t…? (Of course, you won’t be alone. I am here. I feel your fear child. Your pain. Your tears. For all that sorrow take my peace. My love. My comfort. “The city of refuge is open tonight”) He says and that wonderful 4HIM song flies thru my head… (“Come inside, come on inside”) And I try to imagine walking inside the city of refuge. I try to imagine jumping into His arms. I try to imagine falling collapsing into the arms of the one who loves me without end. Without question. For who I am and whom He sees me to someday be. The headache stays but now I can sleep in peace. (“It’s alright, it’s okay, I am right here. Do you still not believe that I am Emmanuel? I will be with you even to the end of the age. I’ll never leave you nor forsake you, my child. I am Emmanuel, I am Emmanuel, I am Emmanuel, I am with you.”)

I Feel Eternity

I feel eternity
rushing over me, under me
caught in this cycle
He has made me to follow the moon
gladly do I crash upon the shore
beat upon the sand
then retreat

I feel eternity

rushing all around me

yet it is I that really moves

rustling the tall summer grass

stirring the autumn leaves

He sends me joyously to every corner

through every crack

I feel eternity

rushing from above to below

pouring down around me

I saturate the ground with my all

whether He sends me soft, sweet, fragrant

or hard, bitter, rough

I am delighted to be His to dispatch

I feel eternity

time itself rushing by me

enduring yet wasting away

I go not yet I am contentedly His

to sit on the mountainside

lie in the river’s deepest bed

to cry out praise when needed

I feel eternity
as I coast from here to there
across the vast expanse He has set me in
I float above till He weighs me down
with many different treasures
He sends me to deliver
happy am I to drift where He tells me

I feel eternity

rushing thru my limbs

as season arrive, seasons depart

when He call me to bear fruit

I do so cheerfully knowing even as I do

I draw closer to death

but always is His promise of renewed life

I feel eternity

as I spin in His heavens

merrily circling, sustaining His design

as He has called me to

I know time, yet no longer note it

seasons, decades, millennia fade together

I wait in breathless anticipation for His return

I am as near eternity

as any can be, not merely

feeling it, but seeing it before me, being it

time, space, they matter little

all He asks of me is shine in His cosmos

and shine for him blissfully I will till I die

I am His creation

Homesick

Longing for a home
As yet unreachable
Bound to this earthly form
Struggling and groaning in pain
Decaying and dying
Living under the curse of
An imperfect life
In an infected creation
Craving home
Where tears cease to flow
Where from peace
And love and
Holiness and His presence
I cannot hide
Restlessly hungering
Eagerly yearning
A home invisible
A home indiscernible
A home inconceivable
To human
Eyes and ears and minds and hearts
It is in and though divine energy
Satisfaction will be found
When His likeness is seen
When His face is before me
When I fall into His open loving arms
I will be home

© Michelle Post

9.24.2009

Magic

A bell jar filled with twigs and blades of grass

and the hole marked lid—a residence

just waiting for an occupant or two.

As dusk arrived they came out glowing

and lighting up the evening.

They seemed to vainly be trying to replace

the sun or the moon or maybe

the stars, but to us they were pure

magic.

Catching them was a game;

we’d see who could catch the most

or who would catch one first.

We played until our mothers called us in,

and even then we’d stall for a half hour

just to savor the perfect

magic

that made up those summer nites of our youth.

Deep inside we somehow knew this time was fading fast;

enjoying it to the fullest was our duty.

Remember the thrill of seeing the glow in the jar—like

we’d captured a bit of

magic

that no one else had. Yet before we’d go in

that guilty feeling would build up and

overwhelm us so we let the little guys, or little girls, go.

Because we realized that we couldn’t be selfish;

no, everyone should be able to share in the

magic.

Inner Loomings

Faith is not always a champion which marches alone. Sometimes faith is accompanied by fear. Faith is not the absence of questioning; it is the presence of action in the midst of those questions. Faith does not provide all the answers; it provides a basis for confidence in the midst of unreasonable circumstances.
--Woodrow Kroll

we are told the faith of a mustard seed is all we need.
a mustard seed? really?
the tiniest seed one will ever see,
that is all we need to move the mountains to the sea...
a question, however, looms in my mind like a guillotine--
do I possess even that mustard seed?
I let my fear be bigger;
it towers over me like a giraffe shadows a blade of grass
I give the fear power,
and with power comes control.
I allow myself to be helpless.
(is that because I think I can no longer be blamed when I am not in control?)
why do I freely surrender my life to fear and doubt and apprehension?
my questions pile up like potato skins,
as if I am on KP duty for breaking the rules.
why don’t I have a husband? is there someone out there for me?
will I ever marry? can I actually be loved like that?
these are my questions; where is my faith?
I want answers—not just confidence.
(perhaps because I do not feel confident).
although,
even I would admit that the circumstances I find myself in are not necessarily,
unreasonable,—
uncomfortable, yes… pathetically lonely, probably…
however, not altogether uncommon…I suppose…
though am I really to take comfort in the idea, the fact,
the knowledge that there are billions of people in the world that feel like this?
how does that help?
what does my faith do to assuage the tears?
what does my faith do to repel the darkness in my heart?
what does my faith do to combat the loneliness in my soul?
it boils down to the bottom line that goes a little something like this;
do I believe God’s promise for me;
do I trust that my Creator has the best in store for me?
am I sure of what I do not, cannot see?
a future of fulfilled promises, of joy, of contentment…
a future. period.
I think I know the answer and I am afraid to acknowledge it.
is my answer “I don’t know” really a no?
and what does that mean for my soul?

© Michelle Post

In Farewell: The note left on the fridge next to the class schedule that wasn’t even noticed for five days

A sampling of things you should have done over the years—

 helped your friend in 4th grade when he got beat up by that sixth grade bully

 paid attention in English comp

 got a job

 asked me to prom 1st

 used more than two words in most of your sentences

 put the toilet seat down

 used your signal

 stopped our friend from driving after that party sophomore year

 stopped for milk at the grocery store

 paid attention in algebra class

 fought the good fight

 kept your mouth shut in pep squad formation

 cleaned the frat house before your mom visited

 paid attention in chemistry lab

 had any ambition

 remembered to turn your signal off

 let go of the past

 smiled at that kid on the subway

 treated your best friend to dinner for his birthday

 paid attention in history class

 waited for the trade paper back of 1st stargate atlantis

 gone to any of your classes

 dreamed

 kept your fridge stocked with actual food

 washed the dishes in your sink more often than every three weeks

 remembered your sister’s birthday

 thought about the future

 been on time to my dinner party

 called to say you would be late to my dinner party

 brought flowers for being late to my dinner party

 brought wine to my dinner party

 spoken like an adult at my dinner party

 stayed for dessert and coffee at my dinner party

 helped clean up after my dinner party

 apologized for ruining my dinner party

 paid attention in sociology class

 paid attention in psychology class

 paid attention to the stars

 paid attention to life

 paid attention to me

and maybe,
just maybe,
I’d have considered………

Copyright Michelle Post

Discover the Magic

discover the magic tome

wander through the fog

of ancient mysteries when

the haunting chapter

of searching for whom

one really is begins

down the road in the journey of one’s travels

between the pages of one’s life

lies the true character waiting to explode

beneath the drama and devices

the truth speaks if only

one will hear

part monster

part hero

part victim

part villain

one has many roles to play

to explore, to amuse,

to imagine and to entertain

the soul and the stranger meet

when one looks

in the mirror and

refuses to blink

Copyright Michelle Post

Unfathomable

Dark eyes consume me;
Their gaze so strong I’m bruised, so intense I burn.
I am tortured as if captured by Uruk-Hai.
I am carved as if He wields Narsil.
But not for all the rings of power,
Would I trade His gaze for another.
I am lost, drowning in the Great Sea,
When He looks at me with His love.

© Michelle Post

Creator Be Praised

Creator be praised
Let all Your creatures and creations
Live to exalt You

The works of Your hand

Your creation

Your design

Your plan

Every glance I take is full of You

All these wonders

They are Yours to

Praise You alone

I feel it in the winds’ fury

I hear it in the mountains’ rumble
I see it in the flowers’ tranquility

In the swirling tornado
The crushing tsunami
The shuddering earthquake
I feel Your power
Unstoppable
Awesome in destructive force

I feel it in the prairies’ stillness

I hear it in the forests’ jubilee

I see it in the rivers’ exhilaration

In the morning sunrise

The fresh fallen snow

The aurora borealis

I see Your beauty

Unmatchable

Breathtaking in scope

I feel it in the mists of twilight

I hear it in the falling leaves

I see it in the budding blossoms

In the babbling creek

The night crickets

The rustling grasses

I hear the music of Your heart

Peaceful

Soothing in quiet comfort

I feel it in the scorching sun

I hear it in the erupting volcano
I see it in the serene night sky

In the spring blooms
The summer heat
The colors of fall
I understand the cycle You have set
Steadfast
Though amidst constant transition

I feel it in the storms’ downpour

I hear it in the oceans’ roar

I see it in the rainbows’ promise

In the light of a full moon

The glow of sunset

The flash of lightning

I experience Your splendor

Radiant

Glorious in majesty

All these wonders

These daily miracles

Surround and remind me

Of Your love

Faithfulness
Sovereignty

Let me drink in the riches

Never to forget

The Creator

Almost An Angel

almost an angel
this goddess in disguise
in a pastoral scene of

sweet visions
a cold dark summer
and dreams colored blue
with melancholy

haunted whispers
smiles drunk with deception
dancing with her is like
caressing fire

Copyright Michelle Post

A Typical Week in the Life of A Writer: Manuscript for the Underemployed

Monday was the terrible day of writer’s

block when no words were

forthcoming despite

ample inspiration in the backyard garden;

even had to write this description on Tuesday.

Tuesday was the catch up day
had pages and pages to write to stay on schedule with the next novel
but then was sidetracked by the word of the day calendar……..pleonastic…….
spent hours trying to convince the dog it was a real
word.

Wednesday was a writer’s dream,

the muse was on fire—

simile after metaphor after hyperbole after paragraph

flew from my fingertips onto the page. well, keyboard that is.

somewhere in the middle of it all, I started missing my pencil.

Thursday. huh. never could get the hang of Thursdays.

Friday was frantic…

attempted to come up with something new

for the rap off at the coffee house.

knew that anything less than spectacular would be

deconstructed to oblivion

by that guy from the times that always sits

at the third table from the left in the second row.

Saturday, took a siesta…
then guilt got the better of me, so wrote up a grocery list.
think it’s Pulitzer Prize material.

Sunday made it all worthwhile

when he picked up my manuscript, read it and smiled.

wrote a haiku about that smile.

it goes:

‘uncertainty is

no more as his lips part,

let the light shine on’

Untitled

a chill runs down my spine
as the words he says creep
across the space between us
stealthily slipping past the
firewall within
infecting my heart with acrid sorrow
blink and he’s gone

Copyright Michelle Post

A Cheap Thrill

Ah, the crisp page smells of new adventures New flights of fancy on which to fly away

Page 52 comes too fast yet 172 takes forever
Lost in the descriptions, dialogue, -----
No longer oneself but this character or that

Pain, joy, discovery, empathy and sympathy both
Dreams, nightmares, specters, visions, fantasies, delusions

One is another; another is self
Together entwined to embark as one

To know is to become known
To prevail is to find satisfaction

To suffer is to begin to understand
To love is to encounter truth

At just the right moment one reads
The End

Copyright Michelle Post

Worth Fighting For

What are we holding onto, Sam? -Frodo Baggins

That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it's worth fighting for. –Samwise Gamgee

It truly is
At once our hearts
Mere embers
Ignite with force
A bonfire
Blazing
Burning
Blistering
Heart and mind and body moved
Beyond rhetoric
More than thoughts
Lies battle
Heroic deeds
Victory
The hall of Our Father awaits

Copyright 2009 Michelle Post