Tide

You all know that I used to write poetry. Unsure of what I wanted to blog today, I dug into my old poetry trove and found this work. It was written during a time when several small struggles turned into large ones. The situations helped breed discontentment. One of thing I struggled with the most was  if I was supposed to be at my alma mater, Faith Baptist Bible College. Looking back on this work that is nearly five years old, I can’t help but grin sheepishly at how similar my thoughts are now when I am struggling. So I will start with the poem, then I will quote the blog I wrote to accompany this poem on November 15, 2004.

Tide- Written November 10, 2004

My faith is slipping through my fingers
Falling into the tidalwave of blackened water
Carreening straight toward me
I am engulfed
Overwhelmed
I am sinking, sinking in
Sinking in the depths
Sinking in the depths of myself
A shamble of stress eaten caverns
Being flooded with a sea of doubt
The wounds from fear
My inadequecies are waves
Crashing over my head
As I am engulfed
I see a face….
It’s my face….
I see nothing more than one who struggles endlessly
Needlessly, because of her failures
Glaring me in the eye
Like a mirror with its dark image
Pointing it’s finger…
“See what you have done to yourself.”
I cry out to God
For a solace from this stuggle
That I may swim in this murky tide of struggle
Or sink, sink to the depths
Where is the rock of my faith
That I so often stayed firmly planted on
Why do I not seek the grace of Him
Who pulled me from my sea of sin
Why do I not seek the mercy
From Him who calms the storms?
Why do I not search out the beacon
Who called me to His light?
Why, oh why…
Do I think I am on my own
That’s it’s all up to me…
Whether I sink or swim?

And here is the Xanga blog I wrote November 15, 2004 to accompany the poem. It is all in italics and blue.

There has been something going on lately in my spiritual life I cannot seem to shake. It has been a distrust, a lack of reliance, a bitterness, an impatience toward my God. I don’t know why I am this way. I certainly know better.

Psalm 144  Praise be to the LORD my Rock,
who trains my hands for war,
my fingers for battle.
He is my loving God and my fortress,
my stronghold and my deliverer,
my shield, in whom I take refuge,
who subdues peoples under me.

O LORD , what is man that you care for him,
the son of man that you think of him? 

 Man is like a breath;
his days are like a fleeting shadow.

 

This was the psalm of my devotions last night. Where is my trust? Where is my praise? I should be thankful the Lord of the universe even has dealinngs with me!

James 1:2-6: Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.

I am the man who is doubting. I am being tossed about like the wind. I am going through a trial. Where is my joy?

I always want to be alone now. I just want to hide. I don’t want to talk about it. I can’t talk about it. It just makes things worse. And when I do talk about it, one opens their mouth and speaks, trying to give advice. Jen has been doing this in particular. I don’t want advice. I know what I need to do. I need to trust God more. I need to pray more, I need to stand on grace!  But where is that grace? Where is my place of rest? I so badly want rest!

Here’s an outline of my trials:

1. I have been without a job this semester. My bills are piling up.
2. I was dropped from my mother’s health insurance because she is not helping me pay for school.
3. I am at the end of the semester, worn out from classes.
4. One of my roommates is driving me nuts. She has been clingy and bossy all at once. She is begging for attention and trying to mother me all at once. She knows better than that, too. We have been friends since I first came to college.
5. I miss my friends from home. I feel as if I should be there for them and upholding them in their struggles.
6. I was denied for a school loan.

                      Please pray…. pray for any one of those. There is some light at the end of the tunnel:

-Only a month until the end of the semester
- I will be home this coming weekend and Thanksgiving is in a week and a half. I will be alone on Thanksgiving because my mom is going to a friend’s house that I have never felt comfortable being with. I was there last Christmas and was miserable. My family Thanksgiving is Saturday. But that will provide some respite from Faith life until two weeks later and my semester will be done.
-I have a job interview next Monday. I hope they would let me start in January.

      Thanks for reading the ramble… and thanks in advanced for prayers.

                           Em 

I look at this post and see some things that encourage me. I am more likely to deal with small problems more quickly. In the past I would procrastinate enough before dealing with a problem that I would be overwhelmed by stress and worry in the proces. Now, if I deal with things faster, well, I have much less stress.  How people approach me and talk to me no longer bothers me as much. I have learned how to accept advice with more grace, and to know who to seek out when I just need someone to listen to me. Moreover, I have become more likely to discuss small trials with the Lord. He has shown me He is trustworthy in the big things, and perhaps as I age, I will continue to understand He takes care of the small things as well.

So what I would like to know, do any of you have any issues in your life that you struggle keeping in God’s hands? Or do you have a problem you find yourself repeating over and over? Talk to me! Let’s compare notes.

John Donne- Batter My Heart

Its the first really warm day of the year, and sitting with a burning hot Lenovo Netbook on my lap isn’t terribly appealing, so Igor is going to have to wait. In the meantime, I want to introduce you all to one of my favorite poets, John Donne, by posting my favorite poem, Batter My Heart. In an attempt to make this blog more interactive,I want you all to post your interpretation of this poem. (Please?) In a couple of days, I will post mine. So for now sit back, relax, read, and enjoy. And respond by comment below, please please pretty please?

Batter My Heart
by John Donne

Batter my heart, three-person’d God, for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp’d town to’another due,
Labor to’admit you, but oh, to no end;
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captiv’d, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly’I love you, and would be lov’d fain,
But am betroth’d unto your enemy;
Divorce me,’untie or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you’enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

Poem: Love’s Control

 

i will be working on a post based on a memorable customer from my collection years as well as a somewhat theological post regarding an area of my life God has been dealing with. For now, though, I wanted to post this poem. I was reflecting on relationships I have had, and how much my view of love has evolved over the years from experience. I wrote this poem before two prior relationships that really helped me cement my ideas more, but I am glad to see that this poem reflects a solid foundation of my views on biblical love. The practice of such words, though, is an area where I wll continually seek improvement.

This poem was based on the light-switch (on again, off again) love affair of my teen years. I am grateful to this person for doing things for my life that were positive (bringing me to church) but at the same time, I think we were more of a crippling experience for one another than an uplifting experience. I hope we have both taken the tumultuous time we had together and learned what God needed us to know.  He is married now, and I wish him the best.

Love’s Control (Written 7-1-2004)

Stolen kisses and whispers of love
Heated arguments and biting words
Reopening healing wounds
Tearing more
And pouring on the salt
To make them burn
Racing back to one another’s arms
Clinging to the hope
That to the other we were “the one”
Then the salve of puppy love
To make wounds scab over
Fall off
The process began again
And again
It wasn’t love
It was control
Not for you
But for me
For us both
Wanting so badly
To make it work
But it couldn’t
It’s not love
When you seek your own
It’s not love
When deep down you hate
That you can’t let go
Though you see
It’s not working
It never will
It’s sinking
In a cesspool of despair
Created by our drama
And our passion
And self-righteousness
Pity young lovers
Clinging to a vain hope
That young love failing
Without God’s blessing
Will work after all
But there is no hope
When you seek your own
And not the Lord.
Jesus help our finite blinded eyes to see
Love is sacrifice
Love is a choice
Love is from You
And should reflect You.
Thank you the wisdom to let go
And now I see
That it was not love
And was not meant to be.
Help me to know Lord
Your perfect will
That Love is not Love
If it is not in Your control.

© Emily Rebekah

Once Upon A Poet

I wasn’t always a banker.

I wasn’t always a student.

I didn’t always aspire to study counseling.

I haven’t always been a blogger, though I have had blogs on and off since I was thirteen.

Before all that, I wrote poetry. This I started at thirteen.

I halt at truly calling myself a poet. What I wrote wasn’t spectacular. Sometimes it was mediocre. All I knew was that I would have a spark, some words, and there it was. My poetry was praised when I was in school. If I could develop my craft, I had a bright future.

Then something happened. Around two years ago, the words quit coming. I miss my ability to creatively express myself in blank verse. Its as if I have lost a little of myself. I quit wiriting altogether for a long time, but having this blog helps. I am allowed to be introspective. I have a chance to laugh at the ridiculousness that sometimes comes in my life. I know that you all don’t always comment, but from my view totals I can tell that I am being heard, and its nice to know someone out there in the blogosphere identifies with me. But without poetry… it’s just not the same.

So what am I going to do?

I can’t force myself to write a poem. Pushing the words out of my feels uncreative and disconnects me from what I am trying to say and how I want to say it. It undermines my creative process.

What I will do, though, is look at my old writing and post it here from time to time. Maybe I will make it a once-a-week feature like my “What In The World” posts. Perhaps, though, my old work will re-ignite a spark.

This first poem was written when I was thirteen. That summer, I went to South Dakota and Wyoming. I read a lot of history on battles with the American Indians as well as the prairie settlers. This poem was inspired by the struggles of the prairie settlers. So please enjoy… Prairie.

Flat, dry
Scorching hot sun
barren, full of sadness
unforgiving prairie
when will receive
relief from this pain?
will we ever feel
the cool pitter patter of the rain
on this dusty place?
we plant seeds of hope,
but in return
get nothing.
© 1998 Emily Rebekah