When Sitting On The Bench Is Better Than Stepping Up To Bat

Freshman year Phys Ed class, and I stood in left field, filled with dread as I hoped no hits would come my way. I had played left field years earlier on a softball league and had actually been a pretty good little ball player. I remember receiving an end-of-the-season trophy for having the least number of strike-outs. I was an extremely active, skinny girl that possessed a decent amount of athletic ability---I had perfected the volleyball serve and could shoot lots of hoops playing around with cousins and friends.

But none of that sports capacity revealed itself in my Phys Ed class. I was shy, hated school, and felt awkward in my gym clothes at 88 pounds and my 5'2 height, surrounded by my much larger peers. Any athletic potential I possessed melted into clumsiness when the nine weeks of dreaded high school gym class rolled around.

Why Do You Laugh?

Do you ever reach that point where your stress becomes funny? When it has all accumulated to a threshhold that when the next thing falls on top of the pile, you find yourself laughing?

broken air conditioner,
broken struts on car,
broken porch roof,
broken and leaky ceiling,
broken turning signal on car,
broken bumper, whiplash and pain,
broken dreams,
broken relationship,
broken engagement.
     

Lost From Home

Home. 

How many songs are written about home? How many lyrics reveal that desperate yearning to return?

Home now means something much deeper to me than it once did. It is more than the small four walls generously providing me a place to sleep at night. It is even more than the house I grew up in or the favorite places of my childhood memories.

Home is that part of my life where I belong, where I am accepted, where I feel loved and supported, whether I am on top of the world or at the absolute bottom. Home is where I can remove my heavy emotional armor and trust the hearts of others towards me. Home is where I feel surrounded by family, even when that "family" is of no blood relation. Home is where my heart finds a place that it has never known---yet somehow always known---and feels a quiet assurance: "Here. This is it. I have found my home."

Is He With Me?

"Is He with me?"
I sometimes plea,
when I don't feel Him
near to me.

He's with me when
my heart rings praise
of joy that can not
be contained.

He's with me when
the tears won't cease,
when my soul groans
and wails for peace.

When disappointment clouds my view,
still then, I know, He's with me too.

He's with me when my anger burns,
when stinging, bitter pain returns.

And when my shattered heart won't mend,
He picks the pieces up again.

I look back, and then I see,
Always, always, He's with me.

When Everything Hurts

You have been there.

Everyone,

I am sure,

at some point
on planet Earth
will be there---

in that place and time When Everything Hurts.