RAGE


White hot anger
turns logic to run.
No wisdom can penetrate
that wall built of hate.

Born of ignorance,
Fear, victimization,
Lust, abuse…
Pain…Pain…Pain

Ears cannot hear
as a spoken word
only spears the
wounded heart.

Eyes cannot see
Images are
glazed in the charred
wall of negative
expectations.

Flesh can no longer feel
tenderness. Each gentle
stroke is a burning lash
searing a memory
that is not the
Owners.

Rage is built, constructed
stoked by its object or
by perception of
the nurturer.

Rage creates puppets
To pain
spreading hopelessness
and
fear of change.

Rage becomes a comfortable
expectation
excusing its holder from
embracing the change
they fought so hard
To ignite.

They walk right by the
moment that
would have brought
healing and joy
as they can no longer
recognize Love.

Forgiveness is for the weak,
naïve, and stupid. Love is but
a facade or tool to manipulate.

Rage…its reliable, ever present,
found everywhere and it is always
the same. We are comfortable with
rage and holding it tightly relinquishes
our responsibility to do anything
productive with the life given us.

Yes, rage is my friend. It is my fuel
and it makes others fear and respect
Me. I will use my rage to
Crush others into
Submission. I am right
Everyone else is wrong.

You are nothing but a tool.
Wasting your life with rage, for
He is a liar, a puppet master, a
master manipulator. Rage poisons you
and all those who touch you. The
louder your rage the less
others will hear. Each angry word
or deed puts a nail in your causal
Coffin.

If you have allowed rage to consume you
recognize it, own it, and excise it from
your heart and soul. For, it
is the tool of Satan and he
owns you if you
allow it free
range in your life.
Rage is Spiritual Death.

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The Unwelcome Guest


 First rays of the summer sun

 race to illuminate the small

grove. Its inhabitants awake

without complaint.

The grove was abundant in food

peace and safety. The only

other occupant was

an old country church patiently

awaiting its fold.

Blue birds filled the air

with

songs of praise.

A sound so pure and clear,

a melody worthy of the Creator’s ear.

The sun climbed ever higher

casting a shadow upon

 the man turning the key

opening the large doors of

the chapel.

He always arrived an hour

or two before any other filled

a pew.

Time to reflect, time

 to pray, time to ask

for wisdom, patience, and

feet of clay.

“Lord Jesus, lend me

your eyes that I might

see this flock as you do.

Give me your heart to

love all whom you send

my way and a discerning

mind that wisdom would flow, Amen.”

Standing and grasping his Bible

he started toward the sanctuary

as muffled voices and distant

car doors announced the

arrival of the congregation.

The Pastor knew he would

be here and there was nothing

he could do because the

unwelcomed guest

always received an

invitation from me

and from you.

He would sit in the

very front row knowing

every word of scripture

but not letting it show.

He wasn’t there to learn,

fellowship, or become

more like the Savior. No,

none of those things is

what he did savor.

The Pastor sighed deeply

upon stepping to the pulpit

as he recognized their guest

was already working the room.

The people were settled into their

familiar clicks. The poor sat in the far rear

while the affluent took the lead.

 But none sat next to the family

 who lived without running water,

Their respectable senses

were aghast.

Tongue clicks and whispers veiled under breath

spread disdain and disgust in the

presence of such an obvious

disgrace.

Over there perched the family of judges,

who would snicker and point with their eyes

to alert one another that there was laughter to be had

or condemnation to be made of those just entering

the sanctuary.

The Bennet family, fragile as can be,

sat holding one another in their

fear and in their grief. They had lost a son

in Iraq last summer and now their little one

is fighting cancer. Their faith is stretched thin but

they have not given up hope. Our Guest is

trying his best to destroy them but he is failing.

Then you have those who feel it

their duty to reveal your sin, criticize

your worship or prayer life, and condemn

those who are struggling.

 In their reason,

 one is sick, barren, in

financial woe or experiencing

heart ache due to some unconfessed

sin.

 “Get right with God and your

hardship will be delivered.” is the chant

they cry in disapproving condemnation.

Driving divisions among God’s people

is his favorite activity and we are

so willing to play.

Yes, he is here and they invited him

as they do regardless of the warnings.

He knows the Bible better than most

Christians but he does not see its truth.

His hardened heart does not feel

the forgiving love of Christ.

Instead, it angers him and

he takes his fury out upon

the flock.

“They have more than us. She is far prettier or talented

than I. I heard…cheated on his wife. God cannot

love or forgive you since you did that horrible

thing in your past. You are not good enough to succeed. Your

beliefs are childish superstitions. You will fail.”

Lies, his favorite lies, he uses against

the flock.

He has enjoyed great success in

invading the church and scattering the flock.

His minions carry out his orders sewing

discord, jealousy, bigotry, hatred, and

cynicism where ever they go.

Church after church has fallen to his

attacks.

He is becoming angrier

and fiercer as he

sees his time ebbing away.

He tortures any who work

to follow the Savior’s path.

Yes, Satan is the first one in church

and the last one to leave because turning

one Christian to sin bringing him to ruin

will convince 1000 more souls to reject

Jesus because of his sinful people.

Satan loves to use fallen Christians because

it hurts the Father deeply when his children stray.

He will never give up, never stop, and never

show mercy.

Children of God, take warning and

be on guard so you do not

become one of Satan’s favorite tools.

In a world of pain and destruction,

be determined not to add to the

brokenness of Creation.

Instead, build…repair…create

and healing will be had in your church,

home, work place, social group, neighborhood

and maybe, just maybe, it will keep going and

heal our lands.

 

 

“If my people, who are called by my name, shall humble themselves and pray then I shall hear from heaven and heal their lands.” God

RADIANCE


Brilliance envelopes
her being.
Every cell pulsating
with tingling
warmth bringing
her to the precipice
between pain and pleasure.

A mere reflection of
His Glory.
A passing glance
of His
boundless
Love and Mercy.

The sensation of pure
Joy and Love
brought her to her
knees. She wept.

He dropped to
the ground
before her.
Gently he bent close
to her ear.
“I Love You, Daughter”.

She recoiled as if
struck with a hot iron,
scurrying away from
his sacrificial love. Never
had she felt this before and
its strength was excruciating.

Slowly, he crawled
to her, scooping
her into his arms.
“I Love You, Daughter”.

She cried out in sweet
anguish as his words
healed her brokenness.
Her chest heaving with the
effort to draw breath
began to calm as
his tears mingled
with her own.

Mustering all
remaining strength,
she found her voice.

“It was supposed to be me!
It was my sentence! I committed
the crimes. I deserved to be punished!
You didn’t do anything so why
did you tell them that you did it? Each time
they spit at you, that was mine to bear. Every cruel
blow was supposed to land
upon my flesh. I deserved it, I sinned, I
was cruel and dishonest.
Those lashes you bore
were mine!
I know how to take people’s
cruelty because I am used to it but your
love hurts so much.
Why, didn’t you let me
confess and bear the punishment?
You did nothing! You did nothing!
I did everything. I tried, I really
tried to get to you and stop them from
nailing you to that tree. I tried to confess
over and again but the soldiers just
laughed and pushed me away. Why
did you take my punishment? Why?
Father, why?”
She blurted
this stream of sorrow, guilt,
confusion, and fear towards
him using a single breath.

The love never left
his expression as he spoke.
Each word calming her
spirit as he breathed healing
upon her soul.
“Yes, the punishment was yours
to bear. Justly, you had been
convicted. The bruises belong to you.
The torn flesh should have been worn by you.
The blood spilled
should have drained from your
broken body.
But I could not allow it. What
the world does to you is harsh
but what awaits the guilty
is far worse and
lasts for eternity. What
they inflicted upon me
was very little compared to
the days I spent in Hell.
You could not have bore
the unseen torment. It
would have destroyed
you completely.
I had to open another
door for my children, for
the deceiver has lured
many to their doom.
He offers sweet lies
and beautiful promises
tricking my wayward
children by making
them very comfortable.”

Breathing normally, tears dried,
she asked, “How can
I ever pay that debt?”

“You cannot. It was
a gift of my love. I
bore it all for you, daughter.
You are my child and
I love you more than life.”
He spoke with such intense
love and devotion that
she did not doubt his words.
When he spoke, she didn’t only
hear each word but she felt them
as if he were writing them upon her
very heart.

“What can I do to show
you how much I love you
and how thankful I am
for this precious gift? I
have nothing of any value, but
all I have I will give freely.”
she offered with a depth
of sincerity she did not
know she possessed.

“Love. Love me and love others
as much as I have loved you.
Use my eyes to look at everyone around
you so that their worth will be evident. Use
my heart to feel the hurt and pain in your
sisters and brothers. Minister to those needs
and show them the way to my
loving, forgiving, embrace. I will
never stop pursuing my children
until they make a choice. I will
knock at their doors night and day
until they choose to answer it
or reject me. I will either enter
their hearts or I will honor
their choice and walk away.
Each of my children must
decide for themselves.
YOU MUST
MAKE
a
CHOICE.”

Take My Hand


Blinding radiance
brings an arm to shield her sight.
Looking into the
faces crushing about
reveals they see nothing.

Pulsations travel through the soil
moving her being.
A tingling sensation progresses from
her feet, to her knees, to her center.

Blood is afire as it surges through
her veins making the roar
audible to her alone.

Lungs freeze in expansion.
The heart stills as the
energy continues
its upward journey.
There is no pain.
There is no fear.
There is only being.

The eyes once stung by
the radiance now adjust as
the energy fills them
from within.

Her eyes see…everything.
The throngs continue in
their pursuits.
They are shrouded in
darkness, yet appear happy.
Nothing has changed for them.
They are happy.

Exhaling, she realizes she had
been holding her breath.
Form after form becomes
tangible in the light.
The colors are brilliant and
hold a depth she has never
before witnessed.

The air is crisp and dew
droplets cling to the
vegetation growing in lush control.

A small, unfamiliar sound
tickles her ear. Looking about
her eyes find its maker. A small,
red-haired fox. A kit, alone but
unafraid of her approach. It was mewing.
Calling for its mother or siblings, she thought.
Scooping it up, she knew she had
never felt such luxurious softness.

It’s eyes looked at her with interest
but began its mewing again when she
failed to produce the familiar scent its
mother owned alone.

The plants before her parted.
The dame had found her lost kit.
There was no tension between the
three. The mother simply came up
and plucked the kit from the woman’s hand.
Then it disappeared into the foliage.

Perhaps she was sick,
lying in the hospital with fever?
Maybe she was dead!
Regardless of these thoughts,
she felt nothing but peace.

The mutterings of those
milling about the edge of the light
was indistinct chatter. Although
fascinated by this fact, her attention was
drawn back toward the place she
knelt.

“Take my hand, child.”
A voice so melodic commanded
with gentle strength.
Every cell tingled at its sound.
What a glorious sensation!

She accepted the extended hand
and felt her entire being
radiate with power. It was
as if every good thing her senses
had ever recorded was
being felt all at once.
Waves of glorious sensation
made her want to hold this hand
forevermore.

Once upon her feet, he released her.
Eyes spilling their joy,
she looked upon his face with
intensity.

He heard the questions of her
heart but only offered a smile
of knowing in return.
Once her tears stopped
spilling and her
breathing leveled.
He began.

“This is a veil separating you
from the purity and
love I used to create existence.
Your mortal self will not be
permitted to tarry.” his voice
caressed her senses.

She could only listen as
her entire being was captivated
by the love emanating from
that beautiful voice.

“Daughter, you have been
called to walk between the
light and darkness.” a soft
sadness caressed every word.
“Some of my children are so
lost they have accepted
the darkness as reality.” pain had
entered his voice and the sensation
upon her being was pure agony.

“Are you willing to help them?” he
asked motioning to the shadowed
throngs.”Some are so far away
from the light, they cannot see a pinpoint.
Some have so much pain they
have given up the search.
And still others are diligently
working to destroy.”

The pain in his words brought her
to her knees. The intensity
was searing her essence. He was
not inflicting it upon her,
she was experiencing
a ‘glancing blow’ of
his broken heart.

“Daughter, take my hand”, his words
ended her pain immediately.
His loved poured into her
as he grasped her hand.

“You must go,”
speaking with all authority.
“You are not alone.
I have called many to the path you
have been asked to walk.
Each of them have arrived upon
this path through different vehicles
but all who have been called know well
of hardship and pain.
Just as you, they have survived
the darkness
with help from those, whom
I sent before you.
If you choose this task,
you must keep one foot in each realm.”

Each word he spoke
overwhelmed her due to the
sensations his voice caused and the
weight of their content. As long as
she held onto his hand, she was able to
endure it, but only… just.

She knew her answer and felt herself being
pulled back toward the edge… between.
As her fingertips held desperately to his,
she felt as if she were drowning
gasping for her final breath.
Everything stilled.

“Daughter, have peace. I am always
with you. Never will I leave you.
Others are already in place
to help you with this
most important task.
I love you my sweet,
darling daughter.
I love all of you.”

At once, she felt others pushing
their way past her and the sound of
those selling their wares. Her eyes
focused and just when her mind
had begun to rationalize the experience,
she felt…more.

A beautiful green and yellow butterfly
took flight. She watched its
graceful dance
as the sun shown brilliantly
through it’s veneer wings.
The stark contrast between its
beauty and the misery that abounded
all around was
breathtaking.

“Everything…is different,” She
whispered. A broad smile graced
her countenance as she
took her first step toward
hope.

Walking upon Rice Paper


Walk upon the Rice
Goosebumps signaled her
skins reaction to the
cool evening breeze.

Far she had traveled to seek
understanding and wisdom
knowing the cost of which
would be hardship and pain.
Finally, she could see the pinnacle.

Moonbeams danced upon the
massive frame of the pagoda
sitting atop the next ridge.
Its beauty and solitude
was brightly awash in
a crystal blue light of the
heavenly star.

The frost laden night made
visual each exhale.
The ice crystals danced
in front of her beckoning
her to quicken her pace.

Ancient doors, cloaked in frost,
reflected the moonlight in
an awesome radiance.
Each door creaked
in protest as they
swung open to
permit her
entry.

Candlelight flickered strongly
casting a ballet of
fanciful shadows upon
the walls just beyond the light
that bore them.

The room was empty except
for her own person. It was
spacious but void of decoration
or comforts.
A path, running thru
the center of the space,
appeared to be
a delicate, long sheet
of rice paper.

Burned into a wooden beam above
the path these words instructed,
“Walk the path.
Leave no mark.”

Knowing the paper to be
fragile gave her pause before
venturing forward.
Her first step tore the paper
causing pain to travel through her.
Fear made the second step more
difficult to take but she took it.

Reaching the end of the path, of
thirty-three steps, she collapsed.
Pain and heartache had brutalized
her body and spirit.

Looking back upon the path
she wept at seeing the tears
all along the path. Before her
eyes, the paper was mended
by an unseen hand.

A soft voice instructed,
“Again, but leave no mark.”

The very thought of taking that
path again filled her with trepidation.
She thought to herself that she
just could not take that walk again but
obeyed the commandment without
understanding why she was
being told to do this.

After a hundred and twenty
attempts, each
ending the same as the first,
She plead for mercy and guidance.
“I cannot walk that path again.
There is no way I can walk it without
leaving a mark behind. Please, I do not
understand why this is necessary. I
cannot do this. How is this teaching
me wisdom?” She begged.

“Once more. Walk the path but
leave no mark.” the voice
commanded.

After sobbing a bit, she gathered
her strength then girded herself
with faith and determination.
“Father, please help me. I cannot
do this on my own.” she whispered.

Taking her first step, there was no pain.
The paper did not tear. Each step was
taken with more joy and confidence
until reaching the end of the path.
Looking back, she saw the unblemished
paper she had just traveled. Not only
was the paper devoid of tears but it did not
even have the slightest impression
from any of her thirty-three steps.
Now, she was more baffled than ever.

“I do not understand. What
does this mean?” she asked the
unseen voice.

He began his discourse, “Every step
you take affects my world and the people
with whom you come into contact. It is impossible
for you to walk through this world without leaving a
mark. Walking alone, in your own knowledge, these
marks are painful to you and those you touch. When
you walk with me and my will; it is then that I work
through your every step to bring my light, love, and
healing to my creation. You cannot do this alone. It
is only possible when I carry my children. My wisdom,
mercy and love will flow through you if you humble
yourself to become my vessel. Shed your ideas of
self importance, presumptions of knowing my
will and just follow my voice. I will lead you
to my light. Others will see me
shinning through you and
hunger after the peace I offer. Follow
me and I will ensure that each step
you take will be filled with purpose.”

As the massive doors swung
closed behind her she thought,
“My thoughts are not your thoughts,
My ways are not your ways.”

Now she knew that she needed
to listen for her Father’s voice and
obey him in order to make each step
of her life bring forth fruit. We cannot
do it alone and we cannot see the
entire picture or outcome. That means
it is very important to finish whatever task
the Father sends without knowing the reason.

Alas, relief swept over her as she understood.
We are vessels that the Father works through.
We need only trust him and
listen to his still, small voice.

Why Am I?


Opening my eyes
greeted by my pups
yapping good morning.

I have to move,
I must get out of bed
and I think, ‘Why again,
did I want dogs?’ but then
their exuberant kisses,
happy eyes and wagging tails
quickly remind me.

I muster my strength
and pull myself to the edge
of the bed, simultaneously
praying for the ability
and offering praise for
each and every inch.

My pups cheer me on
until I am upright
wobbling my way
to the bathroom.

Putting on my robe
releases another round
of barking, but now in urgency.
I move as quickly as
my body will permit.

By the time I hobble my
way to the living room,
start the routine and
hook them to their
leashes they are
dancing in circles.

I grasp the leashes tightly,
grimace at the pain,
then open the door.
They bound outside
to find their favorite
spots then scout out
the yard for nightly
critter activity.

I descend the five steps
that lead to my home
stiff-legged holding
firmly to the leashes.
Walking to my favorite
spot, a lawn chair
providing a picturesque view
between several large,
beautiful trees. Wispy
white clouds are
streaked across the
blue expanse.

I praise God for this gift
and begin thinking. First,
I think of the tasks
that need accomplished,
the tasks that I would
like to accomplish,
and then the ones that will
actually get accomplished.

I dismiss the aches and pains,
and the spasms in my back,
while inspecting the ulcerations
upon my skin.

Now I have time to ponder,
“Why am I?”

Living


Living
By
Tina Blackledge
6-19-2014

Open your eyes to the light
tiny babe.
Open your eyes to the wonder
of humanity.

A wail of protest signals her arrival
into a world full of possibilities.

Tears of Joy fill the room.
The babe is placed in her
mother’s arms.

Three days she took
to make this
journey into
awakening.

Her tender
cheeks colored crimson
as the bond was set between
parent and child. Both relieved to
see their newest daughter.

“What took you so long,
little one?” a weary
mothered asked. Tears
streaming freely.

Nearly five years
go by as quickly as
a hummingbird’s flight.

The night calm is shattered
by the child’s wails.
The mother and father are by
her side in an instant.

What is the danger? They
cannot see a threat but the
child wails.  Skin hot to the
touch. Tears flow all around.

Test after test. Doctor after doctor.
Month after month.
“Your Daughter…is ill.
She will only get worse.
Be assured, it will not kill
her. No, she will live…
but a life different it will be.”
a physician proclaims.

Each word, a dagger to
the parent’s heart.
Two more daughters at home.
The father’s income uncertain.
The mother’s health
is failing.

Three years more.
The sickness is invisible to
most. The daughter lives her
life between chronic flares, bronchitis,
pneumonia, and near constant fever.
The mother is ill. The daughters are sent
to family many times
to be given protection and care.

The grandmother alone, would
accept the sick daughter, for all others
held fear. The child had barely seen eight
years pass when two of her uncles, whose
bedroom she shared, taught her
another kind of pain.

Trust was destroyed.
Innocence stolen.
Her body burned crimson as
she learned to silence
pain and own shame.

A secret set by lies
and blame. “God thinks you
are filthy because of what you did here.
If you tell, everyone will know what
a bad girl you have been and they
will not love you anymore. No one
wants you around now and if anyone
finds out this secret then
not even Grandma will let you
come here. Mommy and Daddy will not
love you, they won’t even be able
to look at you again because
they will know how dirty you are. God
saw what you did and he is angry at you.
So, if you tell or if you do not
do exactly what I say then everyone
will know what a dirty little
whore you are because
you let boys touch you.”

The sick daughter
began to pray anyway,
“Please God,
please take me away.
Please, just let me die.”

School taught her.
She was fat. She was ugly.
She was stupid. She was poor.
She was worthless.
Her heart turned to stone.
“If you hate me so much, just strike me
dead!” The girl prayed as anger
consumed her.

Six years expire.
Parents have allowed hate
to divide the family.
Mother and daughters alone,
hiding from
darkness only father can bring.
The mother is ill.

Surviving, barely.
The secret revealed
the family divides. The uncle’s words
proven true. Her heart is dead.

Two daughters marry
finding too late that a hasty
escape would bring profound
heartache.

The mother and daughter have
long ago switched roles. The daughter
takes all the right steps to success but
security is never found.

God hates her, she believes.
She tires of waiting for him
so she tries to escape her sentence
of lifelong suffering.
Her attempts
are thwarted and her rage
burns.

Cast back into poverty. Discarded
as refuse, once again.
A choice she must make, live or die.
Her attempts have wounded her family.
She cannot bear to see them in pain.
A promise she makes to her
loved ones, herself, and to God.
She will not take her life
but prays in earnest that God
will give meaning to this woe begotten existence.

The mother worsens until the
daughter can no longer offer
care so they are
separated for the first
time in thirty-four years.
Guilt and release, is
profoundly felt.

The daughter is caring now from afar.
Given the freedom to
live her life.
Her body has been used up.
She tries even harder.
Beginning a new career
hopes are held high.

Her spirit to survive will not allow
injustices to live so into the
mainstream she fits not.

Her body is failing,
mobility is a decision.
She resigns herself to just
surviving and
writing something of
worth to leave behind.

A change, unexpected.
God has something more planned.
He never hated her,
he was never angry with her
and now he showing her
how very much he loves her.
God uses another
to melt the cold dead heart that
ceased to beat so many decades before.

She wasn’t looking.
In fact, she pushed it away for decades.
No man could she love.
No man would she allow to love her.
Her heart was closed off forever.
Imagine, her wonder.
Imagine her awe.
Imagine her delight.
God gifted her love from the purest of hearts
and the purest of men.
All those years of suffering,
all those years of pain melted into nothingness,
as she was lavished with unconditional love.
Not only was she gifted this man’s love
but now she knew beyond
any doubt that God loved her.
He never wanted her to suffer.
He never wanted her to feel pain,
for only he could have helped this man
sneak past the walls she had constructed.
Only God could have melted her heart.

God   loved   her.

God loved her
and that, she found,
is all she ever needed.
She is going to live.
She is living.

 

Take my Hand…


Blinding radiance
brings an arm to shield her sight.
Looking into the
faces crushing about
reveals they see nothing.

Pulsations travel through the soil
moving her being.
A tingling sensation progresses from
her feet, to her knees, to her center.

Blood is afire as it surges through
her veins making the roar
audible to her alone.

Lungs freeze in expansion.
The heart stills as the
energy continues
its upward journey.
There is no pain.
There is no fear.
There is only being.

The eyes once stung by
the radiance now adjust as
the energy fills them
from within.

Her eyes see…everything.
The throngs continue in
their pursuits.
They are shrouded in
darkness, yet appear happy.
Nothing has changed for them.
They are happy.

Exhaling, she realizes she had
been holding her breath.
Form after form becomes
tangible in the light.
The colors are brilliant and
hold a depth she has never
before witnessed.

The air is crisp and dew
droplets cling to the
vegetation growing in lush control.

A small, unfamiliar sound
tickles her ear. Looking about
her eyes find its maker. A small,
red-haired fox. A kit, alone but
unafraid of her approach. It was mewing.
Calling for its mother or siblings, she thought.
Scooping it up, she knew she had
never felt such luxurious softness.

It’s eyes looked at her with interest
but began its mewing again when she
failed to produce the familiar scent its
mother owned alone.

The plants before her parted.
The dame had found her lost kit.
There was no tension between the
three. The mother simply came up
and plucked the kit from the woman’s hand.
Then it disappeared into the foliage.

Perhaps she was sick,
lying in the hospital with fever?
Maybe she was dead!
Regardless of these thoughts,
she felt nothing but peace.

The mutterings of those
milling about the edge of the light
was indistinct chatter. Although
fascinated by this fact, her attention was
drawn back toward the place she
knelt.

“Take my hand, child.”
A voice so melodic commanded
with gentle strength.
Every cell tingled at its sound.
What a glorious sensation!

She accepted the extended hand
and felt her entire being
radiate with power. It was
as if every good thing her senses
had ever recorded was
being felt all at once.
Waves of glorious sensation
made her want to hold this hand
forevermore.

Once upon her feet, he released her.
Eyes spilling their joy,
she looked upon his face with
intensity.

He heard the questions of her
heart but only offered a smile
of knowing in return.
Once her tears stopped
spilling and her
breathing leveled.
He began.

“This is a veil separating you
from the purity and
love I used to create existence.
Your mortal self will not be
permitted to tarry.” his voice
caressed her senses.

She could only listen as
her entire being was captivated
by the love emanating from
that beautiful voice.

“Daughter, you have been
called to walk between the
light and darkness.” a soft
sadness caressed every word.
“Some of my children are so
lost they have accepted
the darkness as reality.” pain had
entered his voice and the sensation
upon her being was pure agony.

“Are you willing to help them?” he
asked motioning to the shadowed
throngs.”Some are so far away
from the light, they cannot see a pinpoint.
Some have so much pain they
have given up the search.
And still others are diligently
working to destroy.”

The pain in his words brought her
to her knees. The intensity
was searing her essence. He was
not inflicting it upon her,
she was experiencing
a ‘glancing blow’ of
his broken heart.

“Daughter, take my hand”, his words
ended her pain immediately.
His loved poured into her
as he grasped her hand.

“You must go,”
speaking with all authority.
“You are not alone.
I have called many to the path you
have been asked to walk.
Each of them have arrived upon
this path through different vehicles
but all who have been called know well
of hardship and pain.
Just as you, they have survived
the darkness
with help from those, whom
I sent before you.
If you choose this task,
you must keep one foot in each realm.”

Each word he spoke
overwhelmed her due to the
sensations his voice caused and the
weight of their content. As long as
she held onto his hand, she was able to
endure it, but only… just.

She knew her answer and felt herself being
pulled back toward the edge… between.
As her fingertips held desperately to his,
she felt as if she were drowning
gasping for her final breath.
Everything stilled.

“Daughter, have peace. I am always
with you. Never will I leave you.
Others are already in place
to help you with this
most important task.
I love you my sweet,
darling daughter.
I love all of you.”

At once, she felt others pushing
their way past her and the sound of
those selling their wares. Her eyes
focused and just when her mind
had begun to rationalize the experience,
she felt…more.

A beautiful green and yellow butterfly
took flight. She watched its
graceful dance
as the sun shown brilliantly
through it’s veneer wings.
The stark contrast between its
beauty and the misery that abounded
all around was
breathtaking.

“Everything…is different,” She
whispered. A broad smile graced
her countenance as she
took her first step toward
hope.

Life


Life
by
Tina Blackledge
5-6-2014

Love
A little mischievous grin
and a twinkle in the eye
signals innocence at play.

Frustration
A door shut yet again
to a dream, to a path, to ruin?
To which we know not.

Passion
Caressing his moonlit frame
Feeling his heat radiating
In the cool night air.

Awe
Suckling in her sleep
A tear to your eye
Blessed for such a wonderful gift.

Pain
A splinter from a child’s flesh.
Kiss away the pain.
The experience will change him.

Wisdom
We exist only an instant.
What difference did we make?
How often did we love?
How often did we hate?

On The Wings of Heaven


On the Wings of Heaven
by
Tina Blackledge
10-29-2006

In the dark beyond that of night,
A child looks towards Heaven’s light.

“God, will you hear me this night?”
a small voice whispers as soft
as an angel in flight.

The silence is deafening,
and the hope is dying.

“God, can you take me away?”
I don’t want to stay.”
“Please Lord, I can’t find my way”

The voice is older and
The heart is colder.

“Father, why?”
The battered heart cries.
“I am tired of all the lies.”

“Do you trust me?”
The Father softly replies.

“I am afraid, there has
been so much pain.”
“I want to trust, but it hurts
too much.”

“My child, I’ve had a plan for you
since the moment I made you.”

“Father, I have loved you. I have obeyed you.
. Yet I must ask,
Where were you when the Monsters came?”

“Dearest Daughter, I’ve always been with you. I was
there the night you could not walk, I held you tight when
you trembled and bled in the dark; I was there when you gave
up the fight and I stayed your hand that night.

“I know your heart’s desire but I need you to strike the fire”
Fight the fight and destroy the Monsters of the night.
I know the task is not easy but you do not fight alone,
for I have made an army of angels on earth to make the
Monsters atone.”