life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “strength”

there will be miracles

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I don’t want another Raven!
(even tho I’m so grateful for all of them, don’t get me wrong)
I don’t want more manna,
or water out of rocks –
spoken to
or struck in desperation –
I don’t want another temp job
regardless of pay
or qualification.
I want my life’s work.
My soul sustaining work.
My love song to the world work.
I don’t want to look back with sad eyes to the
‘What if’s’,
trying not to turn into a pillar of salt,
or Rip Van Winkle,
dreaming of the ocean,
springtime in Connecticut,
apple trees
and dandelion wishes.
I’ve cleared the past,
scoured the memories,
returned the hooks,
and the books.
Burned the bridges,
learned the lessons well,
made room for the new,
the view,
the unlimited possibility
of today.
I don’t want a fan,
someone to control me,
abuse me,
or a man to take care of me.
I want a life partner.
A co-builder of eternal structures.
A co-architect of a life full of goodness,
truth,
kindness
and sharing.
I don’t want to sit still any longer.
I don’t want to let another important day go by.
my patience has been monumental,
my obedience marathon,
My testing long and brutal.
I’m ready,
I’m so very ready.
and so I ask –
for no more stop gaps,
no more ravens,
no more small or large miracles in this particular arena of wilderness.
God, take me forward
into new battles,
new playing grounds,
new levels of faith.
allow me to step forward
today,
this very moment if it pleases You,
into my work,
into Your will and work.
As in all things,
Your will be done
here in me on earth
as it is in heaven.
today
and everyday
may it be so

Amy Lloyd
7/22/14

there is enough loveliness, enough beauty, enough peace, enough love in this world — enough food in this world – if we would just share?
– Ann Voskamp

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what matters is how quickly you do what your soul directs. – Rumi

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A journey continues until it stops
A journey that stops is no longer a journey
A journey loses things on its way
A journey passes through things, things pass through it
When a journey is over, it loses itself to a place
When a journey remembers, it begins a journal
Which is a new journey about an old journey
A journey over time is different from a journey into time
An actual journey is into the future
A reflective journey is into the past

***
A journey always begins in a place called Here
Pack your bags and imagine your journey
Unpack your bags and imagine your journey is done

***
If you’re afraid of a journey, don’t buy shoes

Untitled: A journey continues
by Mark Strand

doing what’s right

Life is a chance to do things your way; not the cheapest way, not the most popular way, and not how others think you should.

And a very, very, very precious chance, at that.

Got chills?
The Universe
http://www.tut.com

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Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.

A sower went out to sow.
Some seeds fell on the path…
and the birds came and ate them up.
Other seeds fell on rocky ground…
and they withered away.
Other seeds fell among thorns…
and the thorns grew up and choked them.

Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain—
some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty.
—Matthew 13.3-8

God is the sower and you are the soil.
The Word finds its fertile places,
and grows in you.

God is the sower and you are the seed.
You are given to the world.
Though it may seem fruitless,
there will be a rich harvest.

You are the sower and love is the seed.
Though it seems wasted,
love will bear fruit.

Be patient, and trust.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
http://www.unfoldinglight.net

the great adventure

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As you set out for Ithaka
hope the voyage is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon—don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon—you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope the voyage is a long one.
May there be many a summer morning when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbors seen for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind—
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you are old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

“Ithaka” by C. P. Cavafy

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the words you speak become the house you live in. – Hafiz

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The Music of Language
Words Are Energy
by Madisyn Taylor

Each word we speak has a life of its own, a vibratory signature that creates waves into the expanse of the universe.

When we speak or write, we use the vehicles of words to carry meaning, as well as energy, from ourselves to another person or group of people. We may be speaking to our baby, our boss, or to an audience of 500 people. We may be writing a love letter, a work-related memo, or an entry in our own diary. Whatever the case, each word we speak or write has a life of its own, a vibratory signature that creates waves in the same way that a note of music creates waves. And like musical notes, our words live in communities of other words and change in relation to the words that surround them. When we are conscious of the energy behind our words, we become capable of making beautiful music in the world. If we are unconscious of the power of words, we run the risk of creating a noisy disturbance.

Some of us know this instinctively, while others come to this understanding slowly. Most of us, though, speak without thinking at least some of the time, blurting out our feelings and thoughts without much regard for the words we choose to express them. When we remind ourselves that our words have an impact on the world at the level of energy, we may find within ourselves the desire to be more aware of our use of language.

A fun way to increase our sensitivity to the power of words is to simply make a list of our favorite words and notice the energy they contain. We can write them down and post them where we can see them, or we can speak them aloud, feeling them reverberate in our bodies and in the air around us. This is like learning to consciously play an instrument that we have been playing unconsciously for most of our lives, and the effect can be startling and delightful. As we grow more comfortable and confident playing the instrument of language, we will begin to compose beautiful messages, creating positive energy every time we write or speak.

DailyOM
http://www.dailyom.com

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THE POSSIBLE CAUSE OF INVISIBILITY

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A somebody walks into a somewhere and meets a someone.

‘Why haven’t I seen you before’ said the somebody, on recognizing a brilliant indefinable light set deep in the bones of the someone.

The someone then sets forth with the usual catalog of tall tales. Each a credible explanation that would more than likely stand up to the strongest of winds.

But, as ever, the true cause of this seeming invisibility was the absence of an answer to a single profound question.

AM – I – WILLING – TO – BE – SEEN – NO – MATTER – WHAT?

Nic Askew
soulbiographies.com

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awareness is the bridge to gratitude

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We know it is close
to something lofty.
Simply getting over being sick
or finding lost property
has in it the leap,
the purge, the quick humility
of witnessing a birth—
how love seeps up
and retakes the earth.
There is a dreamy
wading feeling to your walk
inside the current
of restored riches,
clocks set back,
disasters averted.

Relief by Kay Ryan

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The poets job is to put into words those feelings we all have that are so deep, so important, and yet so difficult to name, to tell the truth in such a beautiful way, that people cannot live without it. – Jane Kenyon

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Even with the Bumps
by Jenna Doezema

There will be hard paths to walk
People: evil, cruel that stalk
Even in bumps through the trail,
If you hold God’s hand, you will not fail

Yes, evil lurks in all direction,
But you have strength in God’s perfection
He will send down miracles,
Like Jesus rising from the dead
His body no longer covered in red

A few days later he’s teaching about God
How he uses you like a rod
You’re the bait
Getting people from every country and every state
to learn about Him

When times are rough, go and pray
Day after day after day
Praise the Lord
He is your weapon;
Your glorious shining sword
Strikes enemies in your right
And He will always win the fight
Remember, He is all powerful!

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I am loved by God as I am, not as I should be. – Brennan Manning

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A good humored Christian who accepts others as they are, not as they should be, is an evangelist.
– Brennan Manning

Lord, help me in what You have called me to do…

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Courage is contagious. When a brave man takes a stand, the spines of others are often stiffened. –Reverend Billy Graham

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the cost of freedom is never cheap. so very grateful for courageous women and men who are willing to serve our country – even as we grieve and pray.

To be free is nothing, to become free is everything. – Unknown

pray for peace

A Sight in Camp in the Daybreak Gray and Dim
by Walt Whitman

A sight in camp in the daybreak gray and dim,
As from my tent I emerge so early sleepless,
As slow I walk in the cool fresh air the path near by the hospital tent,
Three forms I see on stretchers lying, brought out there untended lying,
Over each the blanket spread, ample brownish woolen blanket,
Gray and heavy blanket, folding, covering all.

Curious I halt and silent stand,
Then with light fingers I from the face of the nearest the first
just lift the blanket;
Who are you elderly man so gaunt and grim, with well-gray’d hair,
and flesh all sunken about the eyes?
Who are you my dear comrade?
Then to the second I step—and who are you my child and darling?
Who are you sweet boy with cheeks yet blooming?
Then to the third—a face nor child nor old, very calm, as of
beautiful yellow-white ivory;
Young man I think I know you—I think this face is the face
of the Christ himself,
Dead and divine and brother of all, and here again he lies.

Heavy
by Mary Oliver

That time
I thought I could not
go any closer
without dying

I went closer,
and I did not die.
Surely God
had His hand in this,

as well as friends,
Still, I was bent,
and my laughter,
as the poets said,

was nowhere to be found.
Then said my friend Daniel
(brave even among lions),
“It’s not the weight you carry

but how you carry it—
books, bricks, grief—
it’s all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it

when you cannot, and would not,
put it down.”
So I went practicing.
Have you noticed?

Have you heard
the laughter
that comes, now and again,
out of my startled mouth?

How I linger
to admire, admire, admire
the things of this world
that are kind, and maybe

also troubled—
roses in the wind,
the sea geese on the steep waves,
a love
to which there is no reply?

A Prayer for the War Dead

For those killed in battle, Lord, mercy.
For those wounded, maimed or haunted,
minds and hearts broken by mayhem
and the doing of mayhem— mercy.

For those whose spirits died to pull the trigger,
whose souls withered to do what they had to,
their hearts and faces held in the horror— mercy.

For those, now broken, for whom there are flags
but not food, shelter, health or sanity—mercy.

For those of other nations, who also served,
who also were taught to make enemies
of those who had been taught to make them enemies,
who suffered our terror—mercy.

For those who suffer without choosing:
the innocent, the families, the land, the cities— mercy.

For those who suffer for peace nonviolently,
who sacrifice and die protesting, healing, teaching,
for all of gentle hearts—mercy.

For us who call others to kill for us,
who continually offer our little ones in child sacrifice,
who find no better way, and who glorify
the killing and the dying rather than repent—mercy.

Lord of Gentleness, we confess our violence;
we confess our fear and self-centeredness;
we repent of our cold-heartedness and beg you:
forgive us, heal us, and bless those whom we have harmed;
in the name of Christ, who died loving,
who received and did not pass on our evil. Amen.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
http://www.unfoldinglight.net

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