Ugh

So I'm forcing myself to put down more of this nonsense I called "writing" back in the day. It hurts mostly because I was so far from God-so far from where He wanted me to be. This "work" reminds me of how I was putting all the longing in my life toward tangible things. It was all being channeled into a conduit that couldn't handle the strain. Which lead to more longing and unfulfillment. Make sense?

I'm desperate to teach my kids that what is God's belongs to God alone. No one or no thing can fill the desires and longings we have but Him and Him alone. He created the space in us so He could fill it. I try still to fill it occasionally with food, or shopping or Allen or whatever. I feel myself start to teeter on the edge and then I know I'd better get my butt back to Jesus.

So anyway...

Flowing Spirit

My spirit took flight
soaring through the air mocking a bird gliding effortlessly
so far away from worries and strife
safe in a haven

My place fully recognized
carefully orchestrated
created to suit the needs
of a wounded spirit

My desires carefully placed
as precious and treasured
as a smooth, shining stone
found by a joyful soul, unexpecting

My spirit found itself
being true to itself
allowed to be what it truly longs to be

My journey back
my soul settled in ready to be tucked down away
just out of danger's reach
But the joy of the remembrance
streams down my face in the dark,
and comforts my soul in it's place.

So there. That's what happens when you try to fill yourself with anything other than God. You turn into a whiny, self absorbed poet.