27 January 2012
The Arms that Hold
The Lord is my light and my salvation;
whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life;
of whom shall I be afraid?
When evildoers assail me
to eat up my flesh,
my adversaries and foes,
it is they who stumble and fall.
Though an army encamp against me,
my heart shall not fear;
though war arise against me,
yet I will be confident.
One thing have I asked of the Lord,
that will I seek after:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord
and to inquire in his temple.
For he will hide me in his shelter
in the day of trouble;
he will conceal me under the cover of his tent;
he will lift me high upon a rock.
And now my head shall be lifted up
above my enemies all around me,
and I will offer in his tent
sacrifices with shouts of joy;
I will sing and make melody to the Lord.
Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud;
be gracious to me and answer me!
You have said, “Seek my face.”
My heart says to you,
“Your face, Lord, do I seek.”
Hide not your face from me.
Turn not your servant away in anger,
O you who have been my help.
Cast me not off; forsake me not,
O God of my salvation!
For my father and my mother have forsaken me,
but the Lord will take me in.
Teach me your way, O Lord,
and lead me on a level path
because of my enemies.
Give me not up to the will of my adversaries;
for false witnesses have risen against me,
and they breathe out violence.
I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living!
Wait for the Lord;
be strong, and let your heart take courage;
wait for the Lord!
(Psalm 27:1-14 ESV)
23 January 2012
Sunken
Through the window I watched the lightning flash and I heard the thunder roll- the rain pounded the ground and my skin felt feverish. As I looked I saw upon the distant hill a tall familiar shadow illuminated by the distant flashes. The wind was whipping the trees around him and the wolf was howling deeply in the moonlit night. For a moment I at stood still and my heart stopped beating. Could it be? Could it really be…
Longing filled my heart and soul and my body yearned to be held by those arms that I had once called mine. As the delirium captured and held me and the fever raged and pulsed through my veins I cried out in anguish and pain.
My knees gave way and I sank to the floor as my tears created a puddle in the persian carpet. My sobs wracked my very soul and shattered the pieces of my fragile heart once again.
I couldn't believe it, I wouldn't believe that the man I loved with all my lonely heart was gone- gone forever, and here I lay, on the floor dying of a broken heart.
Longing filled my heart and soul and my body yearned to be held by those arms that I had once called mine. As the delirium captured and held me and the fever raged and pulsed through my veins I cried out in anguish and pain.
My knees gave way and I sank to the floor as my tears created a puddle in the persian carpet. My sobs wracked my very soul and shattered the pieces of my fragile heart once again.
I couldn't believe it, I wouldn't believe that the man I loved with all my lonely heart was gone- gone forever, and here I lay, on the floor dying of a broken heart.
26 December 2011
It was Christmas Day
It was Christmas Day and I sat shivering cold and alone in my father's house. I call it not my own house for that it is not- it is just a place that I'm living in- my heart is my only home. I had been contenting myself with my writings and musings and drawing my name on the frosty window glass, but my mind is now overcome with depressing thoughts of Alexander. He had seemed so perfect- so genuine. Yet he was a fraud- but I must admit- I am just as much a fraud as he was. My mind brooded over this fact, knowing it was indeed true, but my heart soundly rejected it; my heart tried to make me believe that I was an innocent victim- but alas, I did not cry out, so I was as guilty as he. Such a stupid, foolish girl I am! How could I have been such a fool! Believing words from a mouth I barely know- expressing love- wishing me to come forward- how could, how could I have believed him! Such a stupid, stupid fool.
But alas, there is nothing I can do about it now- not a thing.
So I'll sit here in this cold, dark parlor and brood until my soul is as cold as the frosty air. Such a miserable old maid I am!
I rose from my seat on the stuffed couch of -hair and, throwing off the blanket that had been wrapped around my shoulders, I knelt to stir up the slowly dying fire. As the old fairy tales always depict, I sat down on the ground before my, unfortunately, pitiful fire and spread my skirts about me. I wrapped the heavy wool blanket around my shoulders and lap and swirled my lukewarm tea in my orphaned tea cup, watching the weak brown liquid race around the inside of the teacup. Then I stared into the flames and tossed more logs and twigs into the fireplace until it grew into a roaring blaze. And somehow I grew sleepy in front of that warm coziness and fell into a deep sleep.
Until I heard the loud creak of the hall outside the parlor doors, however. Animal terror surged through my veins in an instant and my heart pounded so hard in my chest I felt as if the whole world could hear it. The door handle started to turn and I panicked. I took possession of the heavy iron poker next to the fire, which was now just a tiny flame, and darted, seemingly noiselessly, into the deepest shadows of the room, all the while hiding the fireplace poker in the holds of my skirt. My hair had long fallen out of a poorly dressed coiffure and lay in long pieces about my shoulders and face- this gave the impression that instead of a mad woman outside haunting the grounds, it was I who was mad. In the parlour no less.
The door handle continued to slowly open (turn) and the door noiselessly opened, and to my utter horror, not the mad woman entered, but Alexander. How he had been let into my heavily barred house I would never know, but nevertheless, there he was. He squinted into the darkness and then made straightaway to my writing desk, which I had had moved into the parlor only this morning. He took out a lock-picker's tool and worked long and hard to open it, but alas, he made no progress, for which I was infinitely thankful.
Throughout this whole time my body was as rigid as a board of our white picket fence, and my breath was shallow and fast. My head was becoming dizzy and I feared I would faint dead away and be found out. I might even stab myself with the poker I was holding onto with white-knuckled hands.
He finally gave up and I heard him curse under his breath. He walked over to the dying fire and kicked the dead ashes- or so he thought, but no, they were not dead- they flared up and sent light into every corner of the room. it was then that he noticed the heavy wool blanket I had left on the floor. He stooped and picked it up, instantly feeling the heat that it still held from my body.
I held my breath and prayed as I never had before, but I could not bear to close my eyes. His brow furrowed and he glanced around the room- he looked uncertain and a bit worried, so he hastily left the room.
I heard the floor creak outside the parlor door and then the familiar scraping on the heavy front door as, to my astonishment, he casually and nonchalantly left as if it were his own house and as if it were the middle if the day instead of the dead of night.
Now I understood the wicked rumors spreading throughout the village- of the impropriety of the general's daughter while he was away.
After my terrorized brain had sorted this out- I hated that man who had strung me out all the more- and more vehemently.
You see, as a child I had been deceived.
But alas, there is nothing I can do about it now- not a thing.
So I'll sit here in this cold, dark parlor and brood until my soul is as cold as the frosty air. Such a miserable old maid I am!
I rose from my seat on the stuffed couch of -hair and, throwing off the blanket that had been wrapped around my shoulders, I knelt to stir up the slowly dying fire. As the old fairy tales always depict, I sat down on the ground before my, unfortunately, pitiful fire and spread my skirts about me. I wrapped the heavy wool blanket around my shoulders and lap and swirled my lukewarm tea in my orphaned tea cup, watching the weak brown liquid race around the inside of the teacup. Then I stared into the flames and tossed more logs and twigs into the fireplace until it grew into a roaring blaze. And somehow I grew sleepy in front of that warm coziness and fell into a deep sleep.
Until I heard the loud creak of the hall outside the parlor doors, however. Animal terror surged through my veins in an instant and my heart pounded so hard in my chest I felt as if the whole world could hear it. The door handle started to turn and I panicked. I took possession of the heavy iron poker next to the fire, which was now just a tiny flame, and darted, seemingly noiselessly, into the deepest shadows of the room, all the while hiding the fireplace poker in the holds of my skirt. My hair had long fallen out of a poorly dressed coiffure and lay in long pieces about my shoulders and face- this gave the impression that instead of a mad woman outside haunting the grounds, it was I who was mad. In the parlour no less.
The door handle continued to slowly open (turn) and the door noiselessly opened, and to my utter horror, not the mad woman entered, but Alexander. How he had been let into my heavily barred house I would never know, but nevertheless, there he was. He squinted into the darkness and then made straightaway to my writing desk, which I had had moved into the parlor only this morning. He took out a lock-picker's tool and worked long and hard to open it, but alas, he made no progress, for which I was infinitely thankful.
Throughout this whole time my body was as rigid as a board of our white picket fence, and my breath was shallow and fast. My head was becoming dizzy and I feared I would faint dead away and be found out. I might even stab myself with the poker I was holding onto with white-knuckled hands.
He finally gave up and I heard him curse under his breath. He walked over to the dying fire and kicked the dead ashes- or so he thought, but no, they were not dead- they flared up and sent light into every corner of the room. it was then that he noticed the heavy wool blanket I had left on the floor. He stooped and picked it up, instantly feeling the heat that it still held from my body.
I held my breath and prayed as I never had before, but I could not bear to close my eyes. His brow furrowed and he glanced around the room- he looked uncertain and a bit worried, so he hastily left the room.
I heard the floor creak outside the parlor door and then the familiar scraping on the heavy front door as, to my astonishment, he casually and nonchalantly left as if it were his own house and as if it were the middle if the day instead of the dead of night.
Now I understood the wicked rumors spreading throughout the village- of the impropriety of the general's daughter while he was away.
After my terrorized brain had sorted this out- I hated that man who had strung me out all the more- and more vehemently.
You see, as a child I had been deceived.
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