TO MY HAPPIEST DAY

  

     Perhaps when the unexpected comes, when something happens that we never asked for, we tend to remember it with special fondness –like a surprise present from daddy who’d been away for so long, like a note scribbled and left by Santa under our pillow when we were kids, or like an unplanned vacation by the beach during school break, this happy day deserves to be in your box of special memories.

When God said, “Let there be light!” 

He said it at the exact time you were near the end of the tunnel. 

And there was light.

It was warm, and gentle and beautiful. It dazzled you and drew you out.  Its glow danced in your eyes and sang in your heart. This light lit your way out, cheered you onward,  not toward the edge of a cliff,  but to many new mornings and solid days that you could live through.

It came the moment you saw him. He carried this light and it walked with him, drawing you to look, and look, and gaze sometimes.

 Perhaps it was the Light that walked with him and followed him that knew. Perhaps this light was drawn to drive away the darkness in your world. Perhaps it wanted to usher in some joy and hope into your life.

He who walked into your world with this light did not know the magic it could do. But you did. 

And though he would never know, it didn’t matter because you believed in it. You knew the power that one happy day had in your life. It brought you to the next day, and another, and another, and another until finally you were certain that there could be many other happy days to come in your life. 

But tonight, you wished he knew that one happy day could mean the world to one dying soul… one happy day could bring so much comfort to a weary heart…  one happy day could save one from walking closer to the edge of a cliff.

And you wished that knowing so would add something equally warm, precious and beautiful to his life. You wished so because you knew that you could never give enough to someone who’s walked with you when your steps were unsure and your heart was not whole.

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A Room Full of Books

A room full of books

Is much bigger than how it looks.

It’s the whole universe

The earth, the planets, the oceans, and the skies!

A room full of books

Is more interesting than it looks.

You could have an adventure to the moon,

explore the world’s rainforests, or simply learn why you sneeze.

A room full of books

Is more exciting than how it looks.

You decide—will you fly back in time

Or soar in a jet to a place yet unknown?

A room full of books

Is more valuable than how it looks.

Where would kids like me go

To find a quiet corner to read and learn on my own?

I wish all kids in their schools

Would have a room full of books

Where they could find all the wealth in the world

And learn how mightily blessed they are!

STARTING OVER

      You have finally turned around and left the dead end of the road where he left you. They kept telling you, “Move on. Move on!”

     You didn’t know what they meant. You could not understand why you had to. You had no clue how to do it, but it hurt too much to keep staring at that dead end. It hurt even more to wait for it to open up and let you walk on. You waited and wept, wept and waited. But there was only darkness ahead. There was no other way but to turn around. 

   And so you did…

   With just an ounce of strength remaining, you crawled toward the end of the very long and dark tunnel.  On your knees, you crawled, and groped through the dark, gasping for a way out. At times, it felt as if you were simply moving onward to get yourself to the edge of a cliff… where you could let go… fall and be thrown off with all the bits and pieces of your broken heart. And how that vision of falling off a cliff appealed to you! How that vision pushed you to crawl on more ardently. There had to be a way out.

   But the One who made you crawl out of  that very long and dark tunnel led you not to the edge of a cliff,  but to where there’s light, sunshine, the sound of the sea, the ringing of church bells, and good people to walk with, learn with, find new hope with.

  Fourteen years gone. Fourteen years left behind. You would have never chosen to let go if only the dead end opened up and let you in. You would have followed it until he found you again. But the One who made dead ends also made new roads. And He showed You, though you stubbornly refused to see, that fourteen years could be written off in ten pages of long bond paper and be history, just history, or some pages in your journal, or some old memory of a love found and lost.

   Now they are silent. “Move on,” they say no more.

   But to yourself, you say, “Move on much farther. Move on some more.” The tunnel does not seem so far away. So you tell yourself some more, “Move on. Move on. Keep moving on.”  You’ve been through the tunnel. You found your way out. You could find your way back in.  And so you fall on your knees and pray, “Lord, take me far, far away. I do not want to go back.”

  Five years and two months away. That’s how far I am.

  I keep the light, the sunshine, the sound of the sea, the ringing of the bells in my pocket, always ready to be retrieved, in case I forget … in case I forget how far I’ve gone.

February 15, 2009

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I Write

736fddb0801ddd80094b3728aaec4b63When I write,

I bare myself.

Little by little, I undress.

With boldness, I unclothe parts and bits of me.

I think seriously about which parts to show.

Though I undress mainly for my need and pleasure,

I cannot stop others from taking a peep,

from looking, or staring.

When I become self-conscious,

I check myself.

What I write should speak the truth.

Others may not agree with my truth,

but if I can stand by my own truth and

bear my own nakedness,

I can march with my head high in a parade,

wearing the words that prove my meaningful existence.

When I write,

I can give back life to the past or

send it to its peaceful burial.

When I write,

I can paint a canvas of starless nights or

rainbow-colored dreams.

When I write,

I am most free to be who I am and want to be.

When People Walk Away

        When you have entrusted your losses and hurts to the Great Healer, when you have put your trust in Him, you can let go of the dead ends in your life and try new roads; you can keep the faith that something  good will come out of the ruins of your broken dreams.        

        When you have managed to transcend the failed friendships, the lost possibilities, and the empty promises, you can continue believing that there is goodness in everyone’s heart. Yes, even those who have hurt  some people in their lives deserve  a second chance.  

        When you have decided to be thankful for the lessons learned instead of collecting hurts, when you have stopped living like a mindless victim of other people’s choices, you learn to forgive and accept that you alone are responsible for your life.  

        When people leave and choose to forget their promises,  learn to let go.  Forgive them who walked away without explaining why. Forgive them who stood by your closed door and asked to be welcomed in only to walk away in the end.  

      When you have chosen to live, instead of waste away,  hope instead of quit, love instead of grow bitter, you keep your hands and heart open to receive – – to know someone wanting to be known, to trust someone yearning to be trusted, and eventually learn to bravely love again. 

Books Make It Happen

Something happens when I step into a room

of towering shelves of books.

How small they make me feel,

Yet how great I yearn to be.

 In my special nook, I choose to be

Alone with a book of my own choice.

Prompted by the voice

That says, “Read on. Learn more.”

 I sit and read, and think and ask;

I go on exploring, and I discover–

There’s so much to learn

So much to understand!

 Dear great minds and souls from all times,

Wait for me to step into your pages.

I want to learn all that I can

So that I can be all that I can.

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