Feminine World

I am the pain of the world, covered with blue scarves & white.
I am the beauty of the world, bare-shouldered with upswept hair.
I am the fire of the world, burning with desire and hope.
I am the joy of the world, reaching toward the heavens.

I am the beauty of the world, bare-shouldered with upswept hair.
I am the luscious berry, bursting with flavor.
I am the joy of the world, reaching toward the heavens.
I am the soul of the world, centered through pain, beauty, touch and taste.

I am the luscious berry.
I am the fire of the world.
I am the soul of the world.
I am the pain of the world, covered with blue scarves & white.

photo by maryjane hughlett

Good Morning, Sunshine

Good Morning, Sunshine.

Smile. Rest. Pause in the day.
Take a slow start for
often even goodness—-the bursting of joy-—moves things too quickly.
So pause. Consider things slowly & thoughtfully.

Spend time with a friend. With God.
Listen to the words of a song. Take them in. Absorb them.
Stop to smell the roses. Let their fragrance permeate your soul.

Watch the sunset. The sunrise. Embrace the seasons of life.
Touch a baby’s skin. An aged person’s wrinkles.
Experience the beauty.

Look into another’s eyes. Eyes surrounded by a dirt-crusted face & filthy hair.
Look into the soul. You may see Jesus there or
you may see yourself—hurting and longing for something more.

Slow down.
Take a walk and really see what is around you.
Ride the bus. Smell the smells. Feel the life.
Encounter Christ in the midst.

I met Faith at a bus stop. So beautiful. So memorable.
Was she real?
A stranger in the midst?
An angel?

Take time to smell the coffee. Feel its warmth. Be soothed by it rather than jolted and injected.
Breathe.

Listen to the sounds of silence.
A whispering fan. A chirping bird. A passing car. Notes of a softly playing guitar.
Sounds of silence. Sounds of quiet. A pause in the new day.

Consider things to be done slowly.
The start of the new day. The evening's close.
Prayer. Peace. Patience.

Good Morning, Sunshine.

photo by maryjane hughlett

Brazos de Dios

Part I

A red ball of sunshine greets me this morning.
The world is waking up although parts of it never went to sleep last night (including me).
Doors banging—wind blowing—caught in a twister.

My life right now—raw—restless—looking for a place to land.
I know my home is here with me and yet the world keeps hammering away at my sanity and serenity even in the dark of night.

What will I find this weekend among these women who have come searching for freedom?
Will I find my own freedom?

A small Texas bird speaks to me from the tree.
“It is here. Freedom is here for the choosing. Choose life. Choose life.”

Even when the battle is tough and turbulent—when you are caught in a twister—Breathe.
Breathe in the air that smells slightly different.
Take in the vines of the field. They are but branches and the root lies deep beneath.

Trust. Trust God. Trust the process. Trust myself.

Part II

I feel so raw right now—bursting with emotion.
Tender and strong—anchored with a root that is deep and everlasting.

My vineyard is intertwined with sunflowers.
The red rock of my childhood surrounds me. It is the flat terrain of my youth.
Yet I know the road was neither flat nor smooth.

Bobwhite calling. Beautiful. Familiar.
“Come play with me. Come join the rising sun.”
The gnats are trying to irritate. It is my choice to stay calm or to despair.

I watch a small white butterfly—a miracle. Hear the bobwhite.
My stomach is starting to growl. Mosquitoes are buzzing.
This new day has begun.

I will join my friends. I will find solace in the midst of the twister.
The arms of God are all around me.
Brazos de Dios.

photos by bill hughlett

The Darkest Night

How can black become even blacker?
What is the color of darkness?
Who knows the color of water?
The color of tears?
The color of sorrow?
What is the taste of sorrow?
Bitter and salty. Full of tears.

Too bitter.
Too much.
Too black.

“The Tale of the Instant Coffee …

... or Confessions of a Seattleite”

Once upon a time there was a young woman who we will call Lucy. Lucy was a person who learned to drink coffee during those formidable college years when the balancing act was a challenge between happy hours and study time. Coffee became an essential tool for Lucy once she discovered it’s magical abilities to induce alertness after a few nights of minimal sleep.

Lucy’s love of coffee followed her into her career as a public accountant and she drank cup after cup of coffee throughout the day and evening without effect. Time went by and Lucy moved from career woman to stay-at-home motherhood—her love of coffee only waning during the first trimester of pregnancy when the smell of almost anything except orange soda pop was repugnant.

During this time a wonderful thing occurred. Lucy moved to the coffee capital of the world—Seattle. There she was soon introduced to a variety of coffee concoctions and ultimately landed upon her regular—the tall nonfat latte. Still, nothing could beat a fresh cup of coffee (or several) so Lucy’s coffee chugging days continued—until…

photo by bill hughlett

Aak! Bladder problems!! By this time Lucy had already made the move from regular coffee to decaf since she found that there might have been a slight addiction problem (e.g. screaming headaches when coffee was withheld). Decaf or no, Lucy continued to love her coffee and faithfully awoke to the aroma of a fresh-brewed pot each morning. Alas, the urologist said no more. Or at least no more than one cup a day if Lucy wanted to divert wearing Depends for a while longer.

Lucy discovered that it is next to impossible to brew one cup of really good coffee. Oh, she tried the coffee press. She tried drinking only one cup out of the pot, but each left her lacking. One thing Lucy found that she loved almost more than the taste was the actual warmth of the drink. So, while visiting her sister (not a Seattleite), Lucy stumbled upon her sister’s “fix” of (I dare say it)…instant coffee.

Once again, Lucy was hooked. She found that she could control the strength and, of course, the size of the “cup”, and soon the whistling teapot began to take the place of the dripping of the coffee maker. The aroma was always fresh and the steam was more satisfying than any lukewarm concoction. Now, you must realize that Lucy is only able to admit this shame to her closest friends and just to keep up appearances, she often orders in public her favorite “Seattle” drink—a decaf tall nonfat latte—extra hot, of course!

Thus, concludes the tale of the instant coffee aka the confession of a Seattleite. (Names have been changed to protect reputations.)

Hope that you never find yourself likened to a bad cup of coffee--cold and bitter!!