Raw

She fumbled the key in the lock, and it dropped noiselessly on the welcome mat. Removing her gloves, she tried to retrieve the key with her numb fingers. Her hands were cold. Sore. Raw. "Why do I keep doing this to myself?"

She was of course, referring to her habit. Her bad habit. Ringing her hands together over and over, until they were red raw and the blood bristled at the surface of her skin. Painful? yes, but life had dealt her far worse blows.

Back in the apartment, she trailblazed a new road of restlessness. Her anxiety disorder was wreaking havoc on the uneven traffic pile in the carpet.  But she was expecting a call. Now, the waiting game...

Her mind was on rewind, as she reviewed the interview. Wait, interrogation! A panel of five. Three men, two women, for an entry level position?  Really? That was unexpected. She really needed this job and hoped that her personality shone through. Not her hands.

It was tough. She felt like a raw carrot going through the smallest hole of the food grater. Such force, such pressure. Down to the knuckle. Questions quickly coming at her from every side. Over and over. Her past, her present, her future, her inability to keep a job for more than a few months. It was so hot in the room. And her hands were hot too. Burning hot. She was squeezing them.

She couldn't read them. But they read her well. Red raw.

More ringing. This time the phone. Even with the ringer setting on high, it barely registered above the noise of her thoughts. She answered it, completely out of breath, although the handset was well within arms reach. "Yes, this is Jill speaking..."

One of them went on to explain why they offered the job to someone else. To a more "suitable" candidate. She listened, not hearing,  then hung up the phone. "Great" she said. "Just great!"


Posted for Sunday Scribblings

Spring Collection

Spring Collection

Put away all the grey and the white - here's the reason
Those boring cold colours, are just so last season
Backstage, underground and waiting to be seen
Are fashionable flowers on runways of green

Sashaying in breeze and shining in light
Parading their colours both subtle and bright
Designer displays of pure petaled perfection
Look, God is unveiling His new Spring Collection



Posted for Friday Poetically

A New Day

Sometimes, dawn comes dancing
into my day as the song sparrow
serenades the sun. A light warm
breeze disturbs the morning dew,
releasing the sweet damp fragrance
of the earth and shakes the slumber
from my senses.
There is a windsong I hear.A tender
tune. A new familiar melody that
harmonizes above the cheerful chorus
of creation. It's a call to commence.
My heart resonates within, and I
waiting, give thanks for the unknown.

The Book

The Book

I see You dressed
in fine leather and
embossed in gold.
My fingers lightly
trace Your spine.
And when I hold
firmly this Truth I
know that You too
are mine.
My backbone and
my strength.

Wearing a layer
of dust today, the
telltale giveway
that I have gone
in search of other
authors with their
more updated
less antiquated
quick fix, readers
digestable versions.
But I find it hard
to draw meat
through a straw.
And I return.

A paradox? Some
would claim. And I
cannot deny, the
apparant contadictions
but my convictions
stand firm in the
belief that I have
found The Way
It is a road map,
and I will follow in
the footsteps of the
One who will lead
me through tears
and blood stained
red letters to the
X that marks the
spot. The Cross.

This mystery that is
Gods Autobiography
and my biography,
both a sword that
will pierce and
liberate my soul.
It is my history and
my future. I will read
the book, on and on
page after page,
losing myself and
finding the lost me
found in the
conclusion that when
You finally close the
book on Revelation, it
will be, my Genesis.


Posted for Theme Thursday and imperfect prose

Hurry

Hurry

limbs lock

hips rock

 Sumo fashion

red hot

g-spot

lightening passion

his greed

her need

5 minute ration

Thoughts

Yesterday I thought of You,
Again today I thought it too,
This thought tomorrow comes anew,
Yet here's the funny thing that's true,
Before I even thought of You,
That You were

T
H
I
N
K
I
N
G

Of me too.

Psalm 139 vs 13 - 16

(Who would've thought?)

It's Grace

No theory commend it,
No fact can up-end it,
And time can't suspend it,
This mystery called Grace.

No force apprehend it,
No lawyer defend it,
No judgement can bend it,
Love holds it in place.

Lord never amend it,
I'm grateful You send it,
Will I comprehend it,
When I see Your face?




( Gods' Grace... it's AMAZING!)