Perspective

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This is the first time in about a month that I have sat down and wrote anything.

About five years ago I moved into my new house and left boxes of my old diaries in the garage. Fear of revisiting the past kept me from looking into those pages written so long ago. Almost forty years of my life is documented in those small diaries.

After I celebrated a milestone birthday, I decided to clear out the clutter and organize my diaries by year and put them in pretty photo boxes I bought at a craft store. I labeled the boxes by years. From being a young adult intoxicated by the promise of love to a middle aged woman disappointed by dreams that disintegrated in mid-air, I feel shocked by the power of love, the profound depth of despair, the soul-crushing weight of  betrayal, the mind-numbing repetition of mistakes, and the power of God’s redemption and grace, that have encompassed my existence on this earth.

Why was I so afraid to revisit that long ago world that I had once inhabited?

Fear that I would be reminded of all those dreams that never came true? Fear that I would be reminded of that one love I walked away from and while doing so I knew I would regret it for the rest of my life? Fear that I would be able to connect the dots in that web of deception that my youth had blinded me to? Fear that in retrospect I would hear the whisper of my own voice and get swallowed up by the sorrow over my own voicelessness?

I have spent the past four weeks reading through my diaries. At times, I have cried; at times, I have laughed. I honestly cannot believe that I was that young once. I honestly cannot  believe that I had been so very trusting. I cannot believe the courage that God granted me in the face of the sorrow; I cannot believe the strength that He fortified me with. In retrospect, this life that God has blessed me with is a miracle; it is a miracle that I am still standing after all the sorrow, hurt, loss, and darkness.

Yes, I have taken my diaries and put them in photo boxes and organized them by year. I plan to work on my memoir this coming week. I plan to get back to my writing. I feel in my heart that God has given me the gift of words. He has shown me that I need to extend compassion to myself. He has shown me that the passage of time is a learning experience. He has shown me that His hand is always upon me no matter how dark the night.

Copyright 2019 Jenny W. Andrews

 

 

 

I Need to Say

beautiful beauty blue bright
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I Need to Say

I believe in Santa Claus.

These are the things I need to say.

Stars on a June night long ago, waves crashing on a forgotten shore, wild horses racing down rugged moonlit mountain paths-these are the images worth living for.

The kiss of that man I had loved so very long ago, the memory of his voice still whispers through the darkness, through the sorrow of the passing of the years-these are remembrances worth living for.

The crush of sand beneath my sandals, remembering when.

 

Copyright Jenny W. Andrews 2019

Landscape

mountain ranges under clouds
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Landscape

Man with gray mountains behind him in profile gestures to a dry and barren land,

his hands spaced apart to indicate a thought to convey.

His white long sleeved shirt loosely draping those shoulders I remember.

Those hands from so long ago reached for me.

Barren land so far away.

Profile forever frozen in time; I never lost that love I had felt so long ago.

Memory like dust in that barren landscape catches in his throat.

Copyright 2019 Jenny W. Andrews

My poetry book “Life at the End of the Rainbow” is available on Amazon. It is available in both Kindle and paperback. Thank you for reading!

-Jenny