A journey in creativity and faith

Tag: Sin (Page 2 of 2)

Are you thirsty?

I was about to take a bite of my  sandwich in a diner in Washington, when the young guy stood right by our table. I did notice him earlier outside the diner on the street,  He talked to my husband and me.

“Excuse me?” I said,  asking him to repeat his question.

“Wanna buy some Marihuana?” He said.

“No thanks”, I said, half smiling.

The guy walked up to the man standing behind the disk.

Did we look like someone who wanted to buy Marihuana?
I saw myself wandering up to the guy and telling him that I didn’t need Marihuana. I had enough in Jesus. He is my life and daily bread. Then I would declare the gospel to him. This is how it sounded in my imagination. I remained at my seat as if was glued to my chair, and my mouth did nothing but eat.
At least I prayed for the Marihuana ‘salesman’.

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Out of Darkness

 

A power drill in my mind, building castles out of my thoughts.
The flesh is hungry, arms stretching out, and aspiring, planning, building highways
A plate with sweet fruits at my nose, my thought, my feeling
My ego weaving blankets out of moments and impulses, and they will vanish in a sewer
The flesh is dead, the shell is empty.
I can’t hide on the moon, on the couch, in the night, in sweets,
in the sunset, under my blanket, in nothingness or at the end of the world.

I have to get out and turn around. I’m broken, I can’t repair myself.
The high heels sink in the dirt. I stumble and the dress is no longer pink, but mud-colored
I fall on my knees and huddle as if the mud is a womb. I have to return to the light.

He must become greater, I must become less

I wake up to the sound of silence
And the song of a lark
The air tickles my cheeks
I open my eyes and see
A never-ending river of clear water
My feet hit something
Handcuffs on the ground
I meet a man, who is sitting on a rock
I ask him “Do you know whose those chains are?
“They’re yours” he answers, “Do you want them back?”
I shake my head
“Do you have faith?” He asks
I nod
He looks at the horizon
“All things are possible for Father”, he says
He arises and walks towards me

flod

 

Falling down

Ocean by Owen Walters

 Photo by Owen Walters

 

Like a queen
I sat on a cloud
when I opened my eyes
and tripped

I looked for my wings
They were gone
I fell down
hit a rock
landed in the ocean

Tears and blood
Dying

Light opened my eyes
Hands with the size of a mountain
pulled me out of the water
Like a baby I lay
in my Father’s arms

He breathed life into me
We sat at the foot of the cross
Doves and rose petals
flew above my head

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