The Gift

To my dear Savior,
at this time of year,
the very best and only real gift I can give
is to choose each and every day to fully live
focused on them and their way for me
to work really hard and begin to see
how to fill myself with Their loving bright light
and shine it forth into the world so dark as to be like  night.

How do I fill myself full of his light and love, I wonder?
It's simple to follow His command yet simple doesn't mean easy, I've learned as a I blunder.
Simple to read His word each day
and pray in a whole-hearted child-like way.
Simple to hear His Will and, His Word, obey.
As I leave my Will upon the alter each and every day.
It flutters about and years to fly like a bird
Not content to obey His Word.
I recognize this for what it is, for sure:
the natural man a constant temptation and lure.

Each day I must remember my covenants through prayer
and study the scriptures like it's some kind of dare.
Focusing my mind, heart, and soul on Him,
otherwise my commitment will grow dim.
And this gift of me is worth very little
if I don't mind every jot and tittle.
For Christ has shown me the way
and though I will not arrive today
My agency combined with consistent efforts toward who He would have me be
are the only gifts precious enough for the One who is Three.

Once I'm able to collect some of His bright and loving Light,
How do I shine it forth into this world so dark as night!?
Could it be a smile?
Shared with everyone within a mile...
Could I help another?
For each and every one is my brother.
Might I step out of my comfort zone?
And help someone find Him who did Atone!
Yes, all that and so much more
the options are like a door...
You open one and there's always another
God's Love is even more perfect than that from our Mother.

He desires the gift of ourselves.
And as we give, He doesn't put it on some shelves.
He teaches us how to more and more perfectly give
how to more and more fully live.
For His work and His Glory
Are the real purpose of our life's story.

December 5, 2014

My Dad... a poem

I love my Dad.
I used to think he was bad.
Not a good Father...
just a big bother.

But then I came to understand
that he was doing his best with the band
constricting and binding his mind, heart, spirit and hand...
and he didn't know to demand
that it release and submit, the whole strand.

I can see the bonds and yet they remain.
My hands bound and upon them a stain.
I see what he could not, yet I did, him, blame.
One cannot put out a fire if onecannot perceive the flame.
Yet I see and know the heat and it still burns as my shame.
My efforts puny to end the curse and break the chain.

Formed over generations the curses were made.
A debt in heart, mind, body and spirit laid.
I could never be enough to get this debt paid.
And I lack understanding of how to access the cooling shade
of our perfect provider and Savior who bade
consume of Him for all debts have been prepaid.
Yet still I struggle to cut loose with a dull blade.

My Savior has already done the work
through the Atonement, it's a huge perk
of being human, the gift was given if I will not shirk,
to accept it fully and no longer lurk
in the shadows of believing myself to be a jerk.
The weight of generations is enough to make anyone berserk.
Yet I hold on to past sin, pain, and other merk...
Rather than release it to God and let Him do his work.

Show me how.
To release the curses past and my sin of now.
I would be a new me, If I did I'd vow
to become new with a sprinkle of fairy dust and a magical POW.
But that's silliness, I know, holy cow!
I just want to be new, Father.  It's been here all the while.  Wow!
Please, Lord, before Thee, I bow.

December 5, 2014

Wanting... a poem

Have you ever wanted
to be other than you are?
Another y me
than the one you see?

I have.
Oh! I have.

The Mother I've been
is not the one I'd be.
Using my emotions as the tool
with which I control and rule.

I'd rather be
other than me.

The woman I've been
is not the one I'd be.
Only moving from now to then
Not fully understanding the far-off when.

I must become
who I have never been.

The wife I've been
is not the one I'd be.
I must learn how to love
with God, who is love, up above.

I will yet be
who I've not yet been.

December 5, 2014

Just One More Minute More

And this one is meant to be
spent in telling me children
how much I love them.

How very glad I have always been
that I was given them and allowed
to be their Mama.

I would not be able to speak
individually.
I'd try to speak to Ria and Kat.

They, together, might be able
to remember my words
for the rest.

I'd hug the littlest close,
while hugging my older girls
with my words and my eyes.

Then I'd grab them up
and hold them near
until whatever end arrived.

How could I ever say all
that I might want to say?
I won't.  I couldn't.

That's why I say it daily.
A little bit here.
A lot there.

Making sure,
with my parents, husband and children
that there would be no need for three last minutes.

They know how I love them
cherish them
and am eternally grateful for them.

And if they don't.
They simply
have not been listening.

They have not heard my words.
Or understood my actions.
They have not comprehended.

For every day,
I try throughout
and in ever way!

To say in kind and
directing (raise 'em up good) tones
to convey pure love.

I am not God.
But I strive to be
Love.

Much Ado About Faith

Just because the culture of our day
says it's a-okay
doesn't mean it really is.
For it's all just part of the biz.
The business of sin
where no one does win.

Just because the majority accept it as all-right
doesn't mean righteousness should go down without a fight#.
They say those who stand up for what they believe
are haters, bigots, nuts, and more than I can conceive.
Even though my heart feels absolutely no hate,
they call out these words and continue to berate.

Just because those who believe strongly enough to stand firm
refuse to back down and accept wrong made into a new term.
For they strive to make wrong into right.
Yet they cannot see what they do, for it's out of their sight.
Spiritual eyes wide shut against truth and God's Way.
In the future not far hence, this will be as past issues are now, so they say.

Yet truth is and will always, truth, be.
And God is the same from times past and into eternity.
For one eternal round really means what it means.
And though evil would like to rip truth at it's seams,
God will always conquer and win the day.
Whether evil says no, or, "Yes, you may."

Thankfully, our God is Love
and tolerates so much foolishness there, up above.
And will tolerate ever so much more
until Christ's return and what comes before.
Until then it'll get worse until all things align,
but that doesn't mean it will be steady decline.

For you see, the program allows for lots of change
His return will certainly happen within a definite range.
But innumerable factors can alter
the course of time and yet cause not a falter*.
Which is why only God, the Father, knows
when Christ shall appear once more, so it goes.

For He, our Father God, is the most amazing author of a book.
Who sits down and makes a plan for his story somewhere in a nook.
He knows the end from the beginning
the ones that make us frown and those that leave us grinning.
If you've ever heard an author speak who was inspired,
they were surprised by some character or another's  actions unrequired.

A character seemed to take over the show.
To write its own story, don't you know.
But though the character may seem to have gotten away,
in the end, the author's purposes they inherently obey.
That's how we can change things, too.
By action or inaction, it's up to me and you.

The day is not set.
But ever so real is the threat.
Impending doom
over us does loom.
Nazis are nothings compared
we must all become prepared.

Changes are necessary to be made.
They cannot be a moment delayed.
"What changes?" I hear you ask.
The answer is quite a task.
For no one likes to not belong.
Yet I know right is right, not wrong.

And so I must now declare the truth:
Repent now whether an adult or in your youth.
Repent ye and turn from your wicked ways.
Before the beginning of the true end of days.
For the seven year tribulation is not yet begun
and as of now, we can yet, it, outrun.

Or, at least it might thus seem so.
For by righteousness we can slow
the ticking of the celestial clock.
I'm serious here, do not mock.
We can lengthen out the days
by turning once more to belief in His Ways.

Believe in God and declare it.
Say it straight, or with witt.
Stand tall and imoveable in righteousness,
do not ignore the call and become useless.
Turn to God with full purpose of heart.
Learn and then fully do your part.

He has a purpose for you.
Certainly you know it's true.
Learn and strengthen your faith in His Word.
Join this new and everlasting herd.
For we are His sheep.
And the good Shepherd does, us, always keep.

Be ye Baptised who will bear the name of our God.
If ye are willing to bear one another's burdens, don't just nod.
Go ahead and do it, commit and take the plunge.
Learn of His love, accept it, absorb it like a sponge.
Then shine it forth until all the nations.
Become one of God's Love Light stations.

Like a power generator of sorts.
It's an awesome rush, by all reports.
But it takes Faith, Hope, and Charity.
The three together within one human is a rarity.
But by trusting God and turning fully to Him,
He'll fill you full, right up to the brim.

Oh, baptism and the laying on of hands
by those in authority is one of God's commands.
Where to find it, one might wonder, I know.
You'll have to take a seat before, your mind, I blow.
It's found in the form of one church on this earth.
It's been here since before your birth.

The Church of Jesus Christ is a part of its name.
of Latter-Day Saints (that's the end), one and the same.
It's got the most truth, don't you know.
It took me a while, but I testify it's so.
Pray for yourself, don't trust me!
God will answer, just you wait and see.

Once you know for yourself the truth that I've shared,
You'll realize how much of myself I have, here, bared.
And the concern and the worries I've felt in the doing.
But I feel compelled of the Lord to put it out there for viewing.
In hopes and with faith that the Lord can use me in my weakness.
For all that's good in me is Christ, I say in all meekness.

Let us unite in His wondrous name.
Stop calling out what is not my blame.
I do not hate simply because I stand by my Faith.
The accusation of such hangs in my heart like a wraith.
Join me in Love and standing for truth and right.
God will ever supports us with His might.



*falter: noun: the act of pausing uncertainly, verb: be unsure or weak

#by "fight" I do not mean actively fighting with physical punches or weapons, but, rather, I mean firmly standing against the onslaught of that which is wrong.

Linked Up

Give

give until it hurts

give some more and even more

now that's enough, die

We See Too Little

With our eyes wide shut,
we see too little.
And we mislabel smut.

We cannot bear the thought
that we do not know
what we think we ought.

The shadows rule.
Ever more overtly
they use us as a tool.

The powers that be
darken the world.
Until only they can see.

They cannot bear the Light.
But if they can only bring
a permanent night....

And what are we to do?
Other than shut closed our minds.
We think those who know are too few.

Given the signs of the times,
perhaps there is nothing we can do...
and nothing more rhymes.

Granted Another Minute

What if the one minute I’d been given
was extended into another?
Before, from my beloved, I was riven
I was allowed only one minute, not a whole nother.

What would I do?

What could I say?
How could a minute, I, not rue?
When it could take more than a day!

More than one day to say I was sorry

For limiting what we could’ve been.
Surely more than one day to comfort from worry
And lend support for what he must next begin.

How to fit all that and more

into a minute so lonely?
To consider it, my heart feels sore.
And if you think not, you’re full of baloney.

Cause we’ve been us almost half as long

as my life was long before him.
It’s with him that I feel I most belong
and my heart is full to the brim.

We’ve stuck when innumerable others

would’ve absconded with our druthers
and sent us apart saying, “Surely
it’s better to leave early.”

How could I confess

entirely, my thoughts, compress
to adequately convey my feeling
without turning blue and then reeling*.

I want the boon of another minute

but don’t know what to put in it.
How to adequately convey my love?
The thoughts flitter and fly away like a dove.

Would I, then, just hug him and hold him?

hoping to sear me into his body?
Trying to fill his mind with me, to the brim…
knowing mere memory is a replacement quite shoddy.

Surely I’d be unselfish enough
to release him to love another.
Just considering it is quite tough.
For wouldn’t she, my memory smother?

Ahhh, the torment of the thought.

Another minute could never be
enough to fill all too many a draught.
Do you know, can you see?

I’d want him to know

I’d forgiven him all,
was grateful for the chance to grow,
and was so glad for our sweet time in thrall.**

I’d have to ask him, holding him tight,

if he’d forgive me all, too,
if he’d keep me in our children’s sight,
and finally: I truly love you.

*reel: verb: revolve quickly and repeatedly around one's own axis

**thrall: noun: the state of being under the control of another person  I do not mean this in a negative way… but in the way that lovers do what the other do for each other as a result of their love for one another.

Modern Cowboy

Splashing through water,

rounding up cattle or calves.

Same as always has been.

written for The Sunday Challenge

Horse and Rider

courtesy of © Teresa ~ Razzamadazzle

The Future Holds

Do you know?
Where it does show?

Can you tell?
If it all ends up well?

I'll tell you right now,
just don't have a cow...

You can find it in the Bible, yes all.
Since the beginning and that first fall.

Seriously, I'm telling you true.
What's happening now is nothing new.

History is in re-play,
check it out without delay.

The French Revolution is up and coming.
The sounding drummers are out a-drumming.

Do you see it?
Do you feel the pit?

The one in your stomach, right at the bottom.
Or will you feel it sometime around Autumn?

Please, won't you awaken?
Aren't you, enough, shaken?

Corks Rise

Like corks to the surface,
the thoughts do arise.
The ever dreaded reprise*
spread like scattered grits.

Why this circular thinking
when I thought this battle through?
How can I move, when it is ever new?
And fate guffaws, innocently blinking.

Among the biggest of my problems
with this circle shaped path
is a serious problem of math
it cannot align into columns.

One hundred and two plus one hundred
normally equals two hundred and two.
But not here and now, this do I rue.
Perhaps I’ve merely blundered.

Unfortunately not.

That would be far too easy.
And more than a little bit cheesy.
Maybe I’ve been wrongly taught?

Yes, there I go…
just as has been done from the start,
trying to blame another rather than own my part.
Oh, how I wish I could, don’t you know?

And so these thought-corks circle,
tormenting in their own little way.
Sinking now and again only to rise a new day.
Like my brother’s reminders of Jack Merkle.

*For clarity's sake, not because I doubt that you either already know what it means or could figure it out, I’ve chosen the second definition from (http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/reprise), changing ‘action’ to ‘thought’ for my poem: a recurrence, renewal, or resumption of an action.

Just One Minute

If I had only one minute to live
and that time must be spent to say
whatever I’d like to give
my parents to hold forever, that day…

What would my choices be?

How could I fill that time,
for a girl made of words like me?
Should I choose something sublime?
I’d have to first thank them, I think.
For simply giving me life of their life,
for loving even when I was at my brink,
and holding on through many a strife.

I’d tell them I was glad for their choice
of raising a rather large brood.
For helping me  find my own voice,
Even though they’d often rather have, it, subdued.

Love, a few times, must find mention.
For I ache with a feeling of sadness
and these words do not decrease the tension
of considering my end: oh, such badness.

And I think whatever was left of my minute

Must be filled with me tightly clinging
To hold them and hope they feel all in my heart, within it.
And hopefully I’d die with it singing.

Energetically ringing of my love for my Mom and Dad.

Praising all that they did of what they could.
Hopefully they’d feel my heart clad
In all that they gave me of good.

For though they never were perfect,
They gave it all that they had.
And by their efforts in me did erect
a girl trying very hard not to be bad.

What more can one hope for?

What greater eulogy can there be?
Than to bring good and then more?
Nothing.  None.  It’s an impossibility.

I'm a Niche

I'm a niche kind of person.
You either have a place
for me in your heart
and life.
Or not.

Because of who I am
and how I am
and the things I say
and some things I do...
you either love me
or hate me.
A bit like a powerful
piece of art?

I'm not pretty, by majority's standards.
Fluffy white with brown hair... not fluff... really fat...
encircles me round about and protects me.

I'm definitely a niche
sort of person.
Take me
or leave me.
I'm me.

Responding to the prompt at: One Single Impression

Senryu

Called Abhorrent*

The heart barely beats

then skips two or three to stop.

Then races, for sorrow.

*ab-hor-rent: /abˈhôrənt/
Adjective: Inspiring disgust and loathing; repugnant.
Synonyms: loathsome, odious, detestable, abominable, loathful

Inspired by the theme word MEANING at

Why We Run Drills

So, today was a good day.

Right up until the very end, that is.

At the end it didn't turn horrible or anything...

but something very...

ummm...

exciting

did happen.

Wanna know?

Wanna see?

Tell:

(then show)

Well, it happened while

I was cleaning up Jmy

(to rinse the hair

from his freshly buzzed head)

and then quickly rinse the sweat from the hot day

and hair from his cut off me

as well.

Ria, Kat and Tea were

SUPPOSED

to be getting PJs on.

When what to my wondering eyes should I see...

but Kitty Kat running straight to-ward me.

She was streaked in blood from her head to her...

belly.

And Ria freaked out

like a nervous little nelly.  ;)

Mama sent her away to stop the additional scare,

while noticing Kat kept her eye on the mirror with great care.

Pressure applied to that cut by a Mama.

and right into the shower

I whisked my poor Kat.

Washed away that darn blood

and calmed my girl down.

Then a request of my sweet Ria:

"Emergency call to Daddy, right now.

Just like we've practiced.

Yes, you KNOW how!"

And away my girl went.

The call was placed carefully.

She spoke to the woman,

oh so clearly,

"I need to speak to Jessie Gollihugh

right now.

This is an emergency."

The phone was quickly given.

The message from daughter to Father relayed.

And Daddy sped home,

to give us his aid.

The practice we'd done,

the drills we had run,

all paid off quite well,

reaffirming preparedness...

you don't have to, ME, sell!!!

Kat all bandied up and feeling quite special.

A close-up of the decorated bandages adorning her freshly cared-for cut

(so she could see them and be pleased).

I specially decorated the bandaids to cheer the good sport of a patient.  :)

As an aside:

 I was recently condemned for running drills with my children

because condemning person said I was teaching fear, not Faith.

I did not argue the point with said person, opinions are opinions.

BUT I refuse to stop doing,

and I refuse to constantly question

the things the Lord directs me to do.

His Ways are not our ways.

I will trust in my God!

He is EVER Faithful.

It is my challenge to always be so!

JUST SO YOU KNOW:

Basically all head injuries bleed profusely.

IF you haven't seen one (I hope you won't have to) it can be rather alarming.

I've seen a few.  So this was nothing real new.

I totally kept my cool.

One of my GOOD MAMA moments, I must say!  :)

And we took care of bizness.

All is well.  Kat is fine.

The culprit who caused the harm

is also well and fine.

Alls well that ends well.

Pointing out some silver around what could seem a cloud to many:

1. Daddy did NOT get a ticket when he sped home at 80 miles per hour (in a 35MPH zone)!

Jessie DID pass a Police Officer going the other way...

YEAY for God's mercies!!!

2. I'm certain some lessons have been learned

by three little girls,

which wouldn't have sunk in quite so well

without the difficult circumstances of this particular experience.

3. It could've been SO much worse!

Did you SEE how close to her eye that cut is!!??

For cryin' out loud... it could've been SO much worse!!!

I bear you my testimony that God was present and protecting

when I actually could not be!

Aint He great!!!?

To Conclude:

We, of this Gollihugh Family,

are EVER grateful for His constant, tender care

and awesome mercies!

Praise the Lord and Bless His Holy Name!!!!

LINKED UP

Believed In

How can words describe the joy
that flexed its wings in my heart
when I realized your words were no ploy?

I think that they, sweet though words are,
fall short in effort to deploy
this hope you've renewed; to describe this new star.

To believe in self is good; and yet
it will carry you only so far.
The light from this star's birth will long be felt, I bet.

A few simple words and suggestions made.
Radiant beams; this star will not set.
It's the most wonderful compliment paid.

Don't you see,
the foundation laid?
A new way to be.

These wings will grow stronger and are sure to flap hard.
The new being burst forth into Light is still me.
Yet not, for the chrysalis has been marred.

A new me filled with this star begins to emerge.
The old doubtings begin to be charred.
Various wings and Ways begin to merge.

Questions, plans, and hopes rise up
as the joy within me continues to surge.
And I am that which runneth over: the cup.

Gratitude falls short to gather the sum.
Am I thankful?  Yup!
I hope I'm no bum.

So the tank begins to fill.
Though starved long, this is no crumb.
The adventure begins anew, if God Will.

Sick

So, after I wrote the last poem and before I went to bed;
I checked on Ria because I had the real fear that she's be dead.

(Yes, I know this is extreme.
It's a problem, these things I see in my waking dream.

I've had these waking dreams
as long as I can remember, from my mind beams.)

Well, when I checked on her,
her breathing was odd and I caused her to stir.

She happened to wake up and she was struggling to take in air.
I was alarmed, Jess woke up... MAN, we were a pair.

Jess comforted her for just a little while,
then handed her to me to hold her in Mama style.

In my mind I prayed for heavenly permission
to bring my eldest babe to Earth's own perdition.

Yes, the generally unwanted place - hospital,
was my hearts great desire - oh, so tall!

But the answer was a firm NO.
Yet, stubborn as I am, I couldn't let go.

I asked a few more times.
I can't think of more rhymes.

But each time I asked Father responded in a definite way.
And after a few tries I came to accept that a trip would not be today.

Ria and I began to, together, pray.
And she almost immediately began to breathe in an easier way.

She and I felt tremendous comfort.
Such joy in feeling answer to prayer of that sort.

Jess had been busy
gathering information in a tizzy.

He wanted to be ready
in case I wanted to make the trip, and was, in my decision, steady.

We both felt calm,
Gilead's own special balm!

A bit a rollercoaster for Mama since.
Over-all Ria seems to be better, I say to, me convince.

It's so difficult for Mama-at-home-all-day
to tell when there are changes either way.

Her breathing really did seem easier through most of our day.
She even felt well enough to, with Kat, run and play.

I have hope that all will be well.
Regardless of the overactive-fear-hole in which I fell.

Thank you for your prayers after reading.
I hope you'll continue to send them our way, speeding. :)

Today

We'll be staying home today.
Can you believe it's nearly May!?

Even if Ria's no longer sick,
I think we need a break - and I get to pick!

A break from people and all those germs.
Mama needs some time to, with her fears, come to terms.

I'm not (or at least I wasn't) a germ-a-phobe.
But I can totally see how some might wear that psychic robe!!!

So easy to slip on and wrap ones self up in.
The trouble is keeping it off when around someone coughin'.

Still, even with Ria feeling better (as I expect she will),
there's no harm in giving her time to completely heal.

So, we'll miss out on our busiest day.
But we'll be right back in next week, without delay.

Worry

Pray for us, if you could.
I hope and ask that you would.

Ria's had headaches, fever, and a sore throat.
Kat and Mama aches and the feeling of needing a coat.

With all the news regarding an impending pandemic,
I think I may be developing a nervous tick.

Okay, so that last bit was just cause I needed a rhyme.
My actual problem is that my fears, too fast, do climb.

And from the heights of really tall fear
I shed many, oh many, a tear.

But the height doesn't help with perspective.
And good advice flows right out of my mind like a sieve.

So, I'm praying for greater Faith and Trust.
For I know that, in my life, the Lord's Will is a must.

It's better by far than my own plan.
Just as with anything, God's way is better than any ways of man.

Still fear nibbled on my mind.
A way I am, to myself, unkind.

If you chance to, or think to, for us, pray,
acceptance and peace would be nice, if you could send 'em on their way.

I'm really REALLY trying to do my part.
For I do believe that's where it must start.

I also believe additional prayers certainly can't hurt.
Perhaps there'll be some from KZ, maybe in a yurt. (heeheehee)

Repeating

Again today, off to work with Dad.
I really didn't want this particular fad.

Saturday will be a break.
But Friday was a bit of messy cake.

Not as busy as yesterday, for sure.
(Perhaps we're on our way to a cure.)

We dropped Daddy off at work.
Then to the grocery store to lurk.

Loading up on loss leaders, I had a list prepared.
I saved more than forty dollars, if anyone cared.

Canned veggies, fifty cents a piece,
spaghetti sauce, and mac-n-cheese.

Beginning again to gather our pantry three-month supply.
It's always a process, but this time I think it'll fly.

Having more money with which to devote,
it's a good feeling, but I don't mean to gloat.

It's certainly not boasting in and of ourselves.
But to God all praise for filling our shelves!!!!!!

Gratitude constantly fills my heart
that His Love is so big and He's SO smart!

I don't think I would've been this focused
without past experience, and all the ways we've been hocus-pocused.

Written Saturday the 25th.