Two of us . . .

A continuation of ‘Sitting Amongst Ashes’

Little did I know how difficult the rescue of this child would be!

We are not sure who each of us are!

tThen one day I tried to say hello, I told her my name, she said that was her name too. I am confused, how, could there be two of us? I try to ignore her, but she is always there. We cannot be broken apart. We try again and again, but she doesn’t really want to leave, it would break her heart. We eat together, we sleep together, we wear the same clothes. When I want to wear something different she says no. It goes on and on, this internal struggle. That one of us needs to leave we agree. Then one day I took her aside and told her I was sorry! We must become one she and I. We held each other and cried. Then holding hands we began a journey together.

Sitting amongst ashes . . .

Second Part of ‘Ashes to Ashes’

. . . Tears begin

to fall. This house was beyond repair, it must be restored.
From the fiery attic, to windows and floors as well!

In my search to heal this body and mind ~ A separation was clearly seen ~ The abyss was too deep climbing the ladder of self defeat ~ The leap of faith so needed would take time to heal ~ But in this journey I would not be left alone . . .

“And your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt.”
Isaiah Chapter 58

No matter how ruined and and devastated things may appear, God can rebuild, restore and renew!

Good Sabbath morning on this first Saturday of March . . .

Welcoming the month of promise ~ giving hope of spring to come!

Though the signs of spring are buried deep in abundant snow and ice, we are in need of faith to believe even though we cannot see – we are given this promise –

“The flowers [will] appear on the earth, the time of singing [will] come and the voice of the turtle dove [will] be heard – when the fig tree ripens its figs, and the vines are in blossom and give forth fragrance.”

The Book of Solomon 2:11-13

Ashes to ashes . . .

With the emphasis this week on repentance and ashes.

The thought comes to mind, whatever is to live first must die!

The foundation is weak, seeking its own level. rusty pipes leak, joints creak.
Red climbing roses speckled with paint from decades of neglect has had its effects. It is full and ready to blow, and has no capacity to hold more. I am hesitant to go in, but that’s not strange, I left long ago. It was too much for me, I split in two, leaving my child [a part of me] behind. But she followed me in my thoughts. In my dreams I could hear her cry, in my nightmares she would scream. I can bear it no longer. I have to return to claim what is rightfully mine. Reaching in, pulling her out, now with me she shall remain. With such weight, beams crumble into the house. A soft glow of orange erupts into red tongues of fire, consuming the rooms. A gust of wind fans the blaze, until little remains but ashes and dust!

A few childhood remembrances that survived. The sole of a shoe that
once held my foot, now covered in soot. My pink dress smoldering in
cinders, a doll looking injured, with charred eyes and lips, her hair on
edge with scars on her head.

A book with singed ruffled edges opened to a nursery rhyme –
“And all fell down.” I am astounded!
Walking through the rubble, I see what trouble the
neglect of this house has caused. Sitting amidst ashes, tears begin
to fall, this house had been my body, the attic my thoughts. I really
didn’t want to leave, I did not know what else to do. If I had stayed, I would have lost my mind. This house was beyond repair, It must be restored. Hinges and doors and windows as well. Who will do this? I must have help!

This poem ‘The Attic’ is from my book ‘Crushed Violets’ Free on

Ash Wednesday . . .

The Day of Ashes– Begins the first Day of Lent on February 22 of 2023!

It is a holy day of prayer and fasting with six weeks of penitence before Easter!

For me I sometimes have difficulty, since I never know if I have done enough, falling into despair –

And though at times I do not dare to hope That I might find hope again To question heaven For when wings of hope have taken flight And higher still Only in my dreams at night Of flowing streams and budding flowers An imaginary place I must create Until the wings of hope escaped, return again A place where I can hope once more Where I can rest my head When all peace prevails

No matter how much we offer in penance and confession, of giving of ourselves, only as we trust in
our Lord and His offering for us will it be enough!

Dear Country of Ukraine you are not forgotten . . .

On February 24th a solemn reflection!

On this anniversary of the invasion of your land – where now are your beautiful flowers of peace, once feeding the world with your precious oils? Now with tears hidden underneath the soil, they are no more!

Sunflowers of joy, pressed to the ground, trodden under foot by humanity’s boot. Through the winter’s cruel plight your seed is preserved, no matter how bruised and abused you have been with weapons of war. So sweetly sleep until once more you bloom, and with smiles of love you will have forgiven!