The Poetic – Day 4 (Part 2)

October 4, 2012October 4, 2012 ~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 4 Comments

A Plea For The Case Of Poetry

She steps into a world of books, there may be millions there.

Passes under the bold B and the bold N.

The smell of coffee hangs heavy in the air. Pungent dark soil acid rich. Trademark of the brand.

And then her heart begins to race, or rather did it slow. At the sight of the section marked, not prose.

So small, as if a slight. So hidden, as if from shame. So narrow, as if to be a step away from invisible.

It, the section marked Poetry.

And there she learned what others knew, that there would always be just these few.

The precious jewels, ones penned by Oliver, Colllins, Frost and such.

That shelves and rows, long deep and wide would not be needed to house the ones that bind the words of Poet.

Oh there were many in the store. Plenty for the masses.

But the heart goes looking for the ones that don’t take 367 pages to tell the story.

With plots that twist and turn and round the bend, a trail of 95 charachters, all ripe and developed richly.

There is death and drama, suspense and gore, the author delights, you’ve been strung along.

With storylines and subplot and subsubplots thick with trails and tales, long and winding, longwinded, long

suffering. The epic. With perfect punctuation.

Prose, the never ending we are almost there, the author woos you in.

The end is not as you had dreamed, no joy in a poet’s brief and pithy telling.

But now she goes the way of those and wanders off verbosely.

And like the poet in the corner simply lost in thought,

she lost her way to build her case for more bookcases

at the neighborhood Barnes and Noble.

Joining joyfully with Emily for Imperfect Prose

When Love Is Hard

September 19, 2012September 21, 2012 ~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 28 Comments

When misunderstanding shakes rattles rolls off the tongue
And harsh meets abrasive in the middle of the ear canal
Where unintended unfurls rough and callous, words always words
When gruff and course mingle and moan and say the things, broken through the filter,
Broken through love
When she says and they say and we say and she doesn’t say
And it all falls down
With a bruise and a bump and a scar
And love is left on the sidelines
Love is a latchkey child
Left in a shadow waiting to love ,the verb
Left on the bench, injured but the action verb wants to get in the game
And be patient be kind
Just be
Where pride puffs up and the battle is fought and pride puffs up some more
While the battle plays on but the war has just begun
And love love love
Is all you need
And holds tight and he slips through and she holds tight and
He holds tight
And you never give up
They are children
We are all children
Children of the Most High
Then why is it hard
When the me and the we and the I
Fight for the leading role
And its my way or the highway, love
Bends in humility
Love keeps no record of wrongs and the love verb
Is quick to forgive.
To the moon and back
Till death do us part
On this side of eternity
Love hard
Love very hard
I do
I will
Love hard back
Forever
This is my solemn vow
By grace, by gosh, by golly
Love is all you need
Praying hard
Loving Hard
Praying and loving hard.

Linking with Jennifer and Duane and Ann and Emily and with Joy, with joy.

Also linking with Mary Beth and over at Women Living Well

Dear God

September 13, 2012September 13, 2012 ~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 10 Comments

Dear God:

The Greek or the Latin may have words which feel richer and more accurate. Loftier and deeper.

But I have what I have. And you know the me that writes.

Father you know the heart, this heart of mine that writes to you. You sent your Son to be born in a stable, a humble place for the birth of our Savior. But I want my words to be an extravagant gift, here, like Gold or something from a wise man.

To pour out a thirst for compassion and a hunger to help.

But my words in this letter are what I have today, like mana. Its my gift of worship and it feels small. Thank you for giving me the love for words, and especially Your Word. May the lines of this letter bless those that read.

You amaze, you always have and always will.

I offer nothing more than the deep mutterings of a heart that you broke, spoke into, caressed, shaped, molded, bent and formed. That beats and pumps beet red life, only because of your hand.

You need nothing but you desire me. Which is so humbling that I can hardly write or speak or think the thought.

You don’t need me, but you allow me to partner with you and you allow me to receive from you tender mercy blessings from seeing the world. Granting a bold peek, into how you may see things.

That you let my hand, my very fingertips, be a splinter in the plank of the bridge to children in poverty. Its a mystery I struggle to wrap my heart and head completely around. But you already know that. Because you know me so well.

You don’t need my $38 dollars to do anything. But you grant me the beautiful relationship with a child to be a fellow human traveller between hearts. You bridge the gap between the deep South of America and the hillsides of Peru.

And you bent my heart toward a child, Erlita, in the hillsides near Lima, in your perfect timing. This, is a holy mystery to me.

It pains my heart to think I could have released $38 a month every month of my entire life. Because you gave me much. You always have.

I think that the cloud of abundance is a type of poverty for me. It is a fog that blurs the view to the important.

Thank you for patiently waiting for me to release my small contribution. Thank you for loving me while I white-knuckled my blessings.

Please Lord, show me ways I can partner with you daily. Please open the eyes of my heart to the everyday need. And make me pliable in your hands to release what I am and what I have to others.

Thank you for providing through the ministry of Compassion International while I sat in my comfortable poverty of abundance.

Praise you, that you allow me to see that abundant living is giving. Extravagantly. Even if it’s only $38 a month. Your holy multiplication of resources is always compounded greatly in your loving power.

I am simply amazed by you. Because in the mysteries of the holy, in how you move and work in our very lives, you used a child to bust open my heart a little more. And maybe over time, it will be busted open wide. So that all you want to go in will have a wide entrance.

Because when I think of the mystery of your ways, I see that Erlita will bless me more and change me more than I can imagine or fathom.

I was alone when I got the letter that she knew my name. But you were with me and saw that holy transaction. She knew my name and she knew she had a someone in her life. Lord, you saw that I have a someone in my life. A child I desperately needed. You gave us to each other.

He who is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, and He will reward him for what he has done.

-Proverbs 19:17

Lord, please shape and change me, transform me through your child Erlita. She, a child, will change a woman in the United States. She will change a heart to ache to give and love more like You. She is changing me.

You have changed my heart through children before. But, you know this about me.

The relationship between us is in your hands. Erlita and Elizabeth, and all relationships which you move in and create, are in Your hands.

That you allow me to have the privilege of being a partner rattles me to the core with humble thanks.

Your child still,

Elizabeth

This letter to God is part of the September Blog Month for bloggers. We are blogging for Compassion International with a goal of stirring the hearts of over 3,108 NEW sponsors for children, in 30 days.

God is at work in His world. 837 new sponsors for Compassion Children have
stepped into partnership, with 2,271 wonderful hearts yet to move and work with compassion as a sponsor.

May I ask you to learn more? You may email me if you’d like, if you have questions.

But everything you need to know is at the Compassion International website for child sponsorship. You may not feel lead to be involved, but will you please take a moment to visit and pray over the children who need a sponsor. That is a gift of love. That is an extravagant gift from your heart.

Know that I am grateful for each of you in my life, in Christ’s name…ministering for His Glory….