3.18.2021

peace.

 


blink. 

      breath. 

Close your eyes and listen. 

Do you hear that? 


Peace. 

Joy.       Peace. 


Peace is calling. 

She beckoning you to return. to feel her embrace again. 

             She’s been waiting. Believing you would return. 

She beckons with outstretched arms. 

Her arms are tender. 

            Forgiving. 

mercy can be found in the arms of peace. 

grace.  abundant grace. 


blink. 

      breath. 

Close your eyes and listen. 

Do you hear that? 


Peace is calling. 

            Will you answer?

2.21.2021

Trust.

Rescue me. 

from the self doubt. from the hate. 

from the lies. 

Rescue them. 

from the self doubt. from the hate. 

from the lies. 


there is joy to be had, dear brother. 

there is joy to be had, dear sister. 


trust. let go. 

let go of the self doubt. let go of the hate. 

let go of the lies. 


trust. 

          and be rescued. 

2.19.2021

waiting.

sleep evades.
the hours droll on. 
I wait and I wait and I wait. 
for what?
time? 
people? 
my muse? 

i may wait for time— 
but time waits for no man. 
waiting for people? 
Yeah— 
my people, my friends, 
               — they’re now all gone. 

and muse? 
who is she? 

tick tock. tick tock. tick tock. 
3am.    4am.      5am 
still i wait and i wait and i wait. 
                                               — meg brister  

2.23.2020

Safe

Swirling, twirling, sinking;

She was weightless and without strength.

Clawing against the blackness beneath,
Grasping for light above.
She reached out and kicked with all her might;
     at last, she burst forth.
Air and moonlight and life hit her all at once.
She gasped for air and clutched to the rock that had become her savior.
It was cold. And hard.
She didn’t care.
She dug in. Nails thick with moss mingled dirt.
She clung to that rock like her life depended on it.
It did.
In the distance, she could see a light. It bobbed as though floating- a buoy?
No. It was growing larger. Coming closer.
Her strength threatened to fail her.
Through weak knees and buckling arm muscles, she climbed higher upon the rock.
Her goal was set. She would be saved.
At last.
The light grew ever nearer.
She cried out, “Have mercy! For I am indeed, in need! Have mercy!”
A rope. an outstretched arm. A safe place.
Safe from the drowning seas. Safe from the bitter waters.
Safe.
At last.

2.21.2020

Edges


There she stood; now here she stands
On her small island
A visual of her private world- seemingly solid
Yet so very fragile
Darkness crowds in- the only light
A dim glow at the center of her island
Like a candle, it casts out the darkness in its immediate proximity
The edges, in shadow, cannot be seen
They are a mystery
And that's where she find herself
Standing on the edge- in the darkness
Not covered; yet covered enough
Fear threatens- her footing unsure
In the shadows
Where is the edge? What are the boundaries?
She takes a step back, and hears the breaking of dirt;
     Rocks falling
Her world is crumbling
Falling into the black abyss outside of her island
The light is growing ever more faint
The wind taunts at the small flame
She tries desperately to reach the light
     To protect it
Forward she lunges
Fumbling towards what remains
The darkness overtakes where she had just stood
On the edge
The light- now a mere flicker
Only illuminates the core of this, her private island
     She stands- fighting the shadows that hover at her back
Again, she feels the ground beneath her feet-
It shifts; no longer a solid
Her heart begins to pound-
She begins to slip
As the darkness crowds in, the solidity of her world fades
She finds herself once more
     On the edge

2.20.2020

Are You Lonely?


I think one of the most difficult challenges a Christian faces is feeling alone.
It’s easy to allow the shuffle of life to isolate us. It’s easy to feel alone.
And the devil would love for us to dwell there; his architect is ready with plans to build that glass house if we’ll abide in it…
Jesus has a different purpose for the loneliness. It isn’t to isolate or leave us empty. 
That loneliness can be an opportunity for connecting with God if you’ll open your heart to Him. So often though, we hesitate to open up. Our flesh wants pity. When our spirits are crying out to give praise. The loneliness shouldn’t be an isolation, but rather a drawing..
Once, a minister’s wife confided in me about how lonely she had become since her husband had began traveling. She made a comment during that conversation, and it rings in my mind each time loneliness tries to creep into my spirit.
She said, “You know, I could let myself wallow in self pity, and cry over how lonely I feel. But I’ve found out that doesn’t make the loneliness any less.. It’s like God is whispering to our spirits – begging us for more time spent with Him.. and we push it aside and fill out time with mean less nothing in attempt to fill the void. I’ve started turning to prayer whenever I feel lonely, and oh man, has it changed me.. you’ll never go wrong if you just lean on Jesus.”
So, momma, saint, minister’s wife.. let me encourage you, while I encourage me.. the next time your sitting in a quiet, dark living room alone on a Sunday night and social media posts filled with laughing friends around dinner tables seem to mock how isolated you feel in that moment.. put down the phone. Take a minute. Breathe. And pray. Take 5 minutes. Or ten minutes. Or 20 minutes. Whatever you need.. And cast that care to Jesus. 
Talk to Him in your hour of loneliness.
Who knows, He may have specifically created that lonely moment in your spirit to give you an opportunity to feel totally wrapped in His embrace. He’ll be there. His word promises us He’ll always be there.

“Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.” 1 Peter 5:7
“And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” Phil. 4:6

Welcome, friends.

I’ve deleted. Republished. Deleted. Debated. Republished. Deleted again..Putting my thoughts on the web is so daunting to me— will people be touched by my words? Will they think I’m crazy? Am I even articulating this thought well? Do they get the message? Can they feel the same passion reading this that I felt when I wrote it?Will they laugh at me?These and a thousand more thoughts just like them race through my brain every time I dare reach for the keyboard.I’ve written and deleted I don’t know how many things.. thoughts, poems, observations..
I deleted them because I was afraid.
Afraid of failure. Afraid of what people would think. Afraid I’d never be good enough. Afraid no one would even want to read what I had to say...
But those closest to me keep pushing me to share.
So here it is again.
Republished for the world to see and for the world to scrutinize.
My heart. My feelings. My emotions.
I write— not for content or applause.
I write what I feel in the moment.
It’s how I’ve always coped with emotions to large for me to carry.
I write them down. So the weight is then on paper rather than on my heart.
If you’d like to share a seat with me as I show you a glimpse inside my introverted, tumultuous brain, the invitation is open.
Just be warned my opinions are strong and my emotions are reckless. I’m a feeler through and through.
Welcome, friends.