Lonesome fear has plagued my life.
My days of youth, spent in strife.
My faith since abandoned, with prayers unheard,
For God to allow such pain it’s absurd:
“Horror of horrors, a life spent alone,”
“That future assured, my past has shown.”
“O take me heaven, I’d much rather sleep.”
“O holy razor, my blessed release.”
“Help me! Rid me this cursed isolation,”
“Wrought by weary nerves, my eternal damnation.”
“Bleed me this pain, I offer my hand.”
“Rescue me Mother, help me understand.”
How often are we anxious, frustrated, looking forward to something coming up, unhappy with ourselves, unhappy with others?
How often are we not happy with what’s going on in this present moment?
You may remember a few years ago those “Keep Calm And Carry On” posters were everywhere, people had it on tshirts, coffee mugs, parodies sprung up quickly and it seemed everyone had at least one thing with it on.
We live in a world where we are constantly waiting.
Once upon a time, in the suburban landscape of Farrhaven, there was an awkward and lanky 16 year old girl who worked at the local grocery market.
About 4 or 5 years ago a friend of mine handed me a book that looked a little worse for wear and told me that I needed to stop everything and read this story.
One of life’s most precious joys is having the ability to bring a child into the world, a pivotal moment in a mother's life that filled with love nourishment and joy.
When I saw first Terry, a Cairn terrier, I was nine years old and thought to myself, "I love you and want you to be happy forever." We did everything together, from taking walks to Terry begging me to play with her while I was going through mountains of homework. However, I never expected to be using past tense when talking about a dog who was seven last year.
My personal problem was trying to figure out if forgiveness for myself and my friends was an option after my friends and I failed to save my dog when a Newfoundland attacked her when we were trick-or-treating my junior year.