There was…a man.

There was a man in my life
With whom I fell in love.

He was the moon, and mist and stars to me,
All luminous, and sparkling, glowing and bright.
Alas, I was not sky to him.
I was heaviness, weight, and
Salty water,
Ocean tears,
An anchor.
Healing, mending, recovering.
Not ready.

The picture of health,
He was vitality,
And I was “girl in wheelchair”.
Oh, sure,
I would walk again,
In the future,
But his energy would spur him forward
To places I’d not go.
Not because I did not like those places,
I did!
I wanted to go!
Wheelchairs don’t fit everywhere,
And I was wheelchair bound.

He ran in place for a long time.
He jogged around me,
And ran short distances,
Turning ’round, and coming back.
He wanted things to work.
But he needed more
Than I could give.

I was not a suitable companion
With my weakened legs
And point of view
And broken heart,
Ruined by the one that was before,
Ruined by my self,
because I allowed it.

I loved night sky,
And he loved me too.
But he was called to something big,
A race he hoped to run,
But I,
Despite my earnest desire
to be the partner
In the three-legged race of life,
Could not yet run.

So I said, “You go ahead. I’ll support you from here.”
And he took off
To do the thing he’d trained for
All his life.

To be what God created him
To Be.

There was a man in my life
With whom I fell in love.
And he is running
His race
So well,
That I beam with pride to see it,
Even though it costs me
And the dream
Of being his.

He is running his race,
And I
I wait for the course
To bring him my way

And while I wait,
I try to walk

~ ~ ~


Still Here.

You’re still here.

In my thoughts.
In my days.
In my nights.
In my heart.

This morning
As I brushed my teeth
Taking care not to miss that spot in the back
That’s hard to reach
I thought of you.

“Is he lonely?
Is he tired?
Does he have a lover?
I know he has a friend,
But does he sleep alone,
Or is there someone to warm his bed with natural warmth,
And his body
with their embrace,
Is he lonely…?
I do not want him to be lonely.”

I spoke to you
Composing a letter in my imagination
Telling you about the things I’m learning
My new passions and pursuits,
Avoiding the topics of discomfort
My mistakes.
The bruises on my knees from when I stumbled,
And the fact that I left the back door of trust open
And someone broke in and stole from me,
My peace, my quality of life,
Leaving trust shattered in their wake…
I didn’t want you to see the weak spot
So I avoided that subject.

And then…
I remembered that you told me to move on.
So I stopped composing the letter.
And brushed my hair.
And gave two dollars to my son
So he could stop for a bagel on his way to church with his father,
And then watched him
From the top of the stairs
As he picked up his key to the house
And stepped out onto the porch.

I felt a type of deja vu
As looked up at me
To say
One last goodbye
Before he closed the door.

And I walked into my room.
With not one,
But two goodbyes
echoing in my mind.

~ leah


The tiny apparatus beneath my tongue,
The one that forms a phrase,
and gives me strength to speak it,
Disappeared whenever I saw him.
Words – once friends, companions,
Would flee.

His face, so striking,
It rendered me speechless.
His beauty – erased every eloquent phrase
From my memory.

And it wasn’t like he was this crazybeautifulperfection,
It’s just that
He was this crazybeautifulperfection
To me.

Just a regular guy,
You caught him looking at you
with love in his eyes,
Or captured sparkles of amusement
Which shone from their fathomless depths.

The smile,
Dear god that smile.

White and inviting,
Broad, generous,
Shining brightly,
A crescent moon formed just for me.
Waiting for a kiss.

His laughter,
I remember the laughter.
Voice soft like velvet is soft
And when he was lost in the mirth,
He was a picture
I ached to paint.

Preserve on paper,
Keep nearby
But my skills fell short,
Fall short,
Could never…
That spontaneous image.

Oh yes,
He had them.
But they were the sort that every rose bush has.

Thorns come with beauty, sometimes.
But I don’t know many who forbid the rose bush a home
in their garden.

And I wanted him
In mine.

The face,
The voice,
The laughter,
The heart,
The soul.
The very fragrance of him.

I wanted to wake near him,
and live near him,
And breathe him in,



And he won’t go away
He’s under my skin
A part of my system
That will not give in.

It will not surrender
The memory of touch
The brightness of smile
That I loved so much.

I’d hoped it’d be natural
A slow dissipation
Like water from pavement
An evaporation.

Instead I’m possessed
With faithful affection
Instead of the shallow,
I have saturation.

He won’t fade away
From recesses of me
He is part of my soul now
And so shall it be.


My Pastor Said, “Timing”.

No matter how Broken You Are,
No matter how low you feel,
No matter how blind you are,
I promise
The God of Heaven sees you.

On the way home I was thinking about when the disciples asked Jesus why a certain man was blind.
It was on my mind because of a conversation I had with my pastor a few weeks ago.

I asked for five minutes.
He gave me five times three.
How many of you know that in the land of the busy, five minutes times three is a very long time?⌚:)

Back to the story,
While driving home I thought of the section where this blind man was healed.
Jesus didn’t leave him like he found him. ♥

The inability to see.

It isn’t just the eyes that can be blind, is it?
We can be blind to our own behavior,
our self-sabotaging ways,
and our flaws.

We can even be blind to a solution when we seek one.
And I was blind to a solution
For a long time.

I didn’t want to be blind,
and looked for a way to receive sight. I needed a mystery to be solved.
I wanted to fix what was broken because I was so tired of the cloud around me,
Like the cloud of dust that Pig Pen kicks up wherever he goes.

The untraceable scent that it produced – It was stubborn – and I couldn’t wash it off.
I couldn’t rinse it down the drain, like I do my make-up.
It was in my pores, and it emanated from me, the way the smell of smoke sticks to a person after they’ve been camping.

But –
God didn’t leave things that way.
He gave me sight.

The pastor was preaching, on a regular Sunday morning, and I was taking notes, when all of a sudden,
“click. click. click.”
Just like that,
Every missing piece slid into place.

I had the answer.
Mystery revealed.
Blind eyes opened.
Solution in my hands,
mixed with ink that was flowing from my pen,
taking solid form as words were spread across the page.

I wrote
quickly, furiously, hurriedly,
Capturing and preserving every word that detailed the answer to a problem that had plagued me

And I wanted to tell the pastor what had happened in his church.

When I did, haltingly and choppily, because I cannot speak as well as I write, I detailed how long I’d searched.
He told me, “It was God’s timing.”.

He didn’t say, “Yeah, I’m anointed like that.”
He didn’t say, “I get that a lot, Alma. Wherever I go, Breakthroughs a-plenty.”
He said, “Timing.”

And I stared at him, (which is what I do when several reactions occur at once).
I stare because when so many things ::can:: be said, I have to select very carefully what I choose to say,
To communicate.

I opened my mouth and said, “Oh.”.
Yeah, I am all about the brilliance.
I said,
“Oh. I thought it was because of this place.”.
And then I asked, “Why would I not find the solution to this issue for more than 40 years? Wasn’t it the anointing, here?”.

I don’t remember his exact response, so I am not going to write anything, I just know he was patient, and that, as I left, the word “Timing” continued to resonate inside of me.

Which brings me back to the original topic.

Jesus healed a blind man and “his disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?”.

Jesus basically told them that he was born blind for that day of his healing – because the greatness of the work of God would be shown to all through that situation.

And as I drove, I wept.
I wept and considered a child, an adolescent, a teen, a young adult, learning to live with an impediment in that era.

The son, the mother, the father, friends, family, etc…
All whose lives were touched, affected,
who supported,
who adapted to the situation,
Who gave grace.

I thought about the culture then, in which someone who was blind lived, and I wondered how they supported themselves.
Did he have a girlfriend?
Was there someone he wanted to marry?
Did they try to go to doctors to correct the blindness,
the way I went to counselors looking for my solution?

And were they just as frustrated and discouraged as I when they couldn’t find it?

And then,
What did he think when he found out he was especially chosen by God for that day, that time, at that hour?
So that God could show everybody in the world that he was real…
And Cared.

What was it like for him to know that he was chosen,
Not because God was cruel,
Heavens no.
But because God ::made him:: to be able to withstand that temporary suffering – knowing that he was going to bless him with deliverance later.
What was it like to be chosen?

The Lord is weaving a magnificent tapestry and everyone is a thread.
When it’s finished, we are going to marvel at its beauty and be glad we were involved.

Each one of us has a purpose,
A plan that God designed when he formed us in our mother’s womb.

Each one of us has a struggle that we deal with and some of those things are temporary,
but others cannot be removed unless God supernaturally intervenes.

When he does…
For he is a rewarder of those who diligently seek him,
he will do it in such a way that no human will be able to lift their hand and say that they were the one who made it happen.

When God sets a person free,
He does it in such a way but there is no doubt about who was at work in that situation.

And he does those things to show his love for all of Humanity on this planet.

No matter how Broken You Are,
No matter how low you feel,
No matter how blind you are,
I promise
The God of Heaven sees you
And He knows with what you are dealing.

There will come a day when he will remove the thing that makes you less than what you could be.

When he does –
You won’t be blind anymore.

It will be your responsibility
Not to walk forward,
But to run.

To run forward
Looking ahead,
With your two
And beautiful
Miracle-seeing eyes.

– leah ♡


And today
I think of you
Fighting the battle,

The battle of good against evil
Far away
Far away across the sea
And you’re at risk.

You’re at risk,
So far from here
So far from me

And you could die.
You know it
And I know it
And those that sent you
Know it, too.

And still you left
To keep us safe
Over here.

Safe in our beds
Safe in our malls
Safe on the road
Safe as we worship

And the maddening thing is this,
That is why I love you.

Because you live to keep us safe.
You’ve always been that way.
No one in your care has ever not been safe.

And so I love you,
And that thing in you that captivates me,
That dire need to protect a people,
Has sent you further from me than I had ever imagined.

Even though You warned me that you’d go.
If they asked.

And they did.

You should be here.
At my table.
In my home.
In my arms.

Instead you’re there.
Standing at the gate
Preventing them from coming in.
Keeping us safe.

So I go to bed,
Knowing I can sleep at night,
But I can’t enjoy the gift.
Because my safety
Is costing you
Your own.

– ♡

Sunlight is Dim

Nothing is the same
Without you here.

The sunlight is dim.
The flowers smell sweet,
But I can’t breathe them in.
The days are warm now,
But I’m cold, even so.
It’s spring,
And summer waits to embrace,
But nothing is the same
Without you here.

No sparkling eyes laughing at my jokes.
No smile to add happiness to my day.
No sound of your voice.
No view of that expression on your face.

You probably didn’t know how much you mattered.
Or that your presence in a room brought it to life.
How one look from you made my thoughts scatter.
The way bees in search of honey leave the hive.

I wait.
For sun to shine again,
And water beckon.
For scent of rain to give me what I lack.
The sound of laughter during pleasant moments
Appreciation for the little things,
A heart that learns to feel again,
Acceptance of the truthful things,

The fact that you may never find your way back.

He’s Gone

I didn’t anticipate losing him the way I did.

One day we were in the middle of exploring one another’s personalities, characters, and senses of humor,
The next day,
The phone call.

He was leaving, and instead of trying to continue,
He thought we should stop.

Not pause a moment,
Not wait a moment,
Not slow down…
But stop.

What does a person say when the other half of the potential team decides he’d rather play alone?

Or with someone else…?

The person says the only thing that can be said.

“God bless you.”
“I love you.”

One moment there,
The next moment,

I looked back at time invested,
Emotion spent,
Every loving sentiment,
whispered in the dark,
And I examined my heart.

“Do you regret them?
Do you?”

I wanted to say yes, because here I stood with empty arms,
Nothing to show for the investment of a soul’s best treasure,
But I did have something to show.

While he was here,
I gave.

Someone received my best,
The way trees receive water,
And flowers receive sun,
And lovers revel in moonbeams
That slip into windows
to splash light across their bedclothes
as they lie quietly,
telling secrets,
And stories,
In the night.

I watered.
I shone.
And someone benefitted
Even if it was only for a minute,
Give or take a year
Or two

I would like to be angry,
But I can’t be angry with any one I love.

Cautious, yes.
But Angry?
Not for more than a second.

Love cannot help it.
It is the Niagra,
Always cascading out of the heart
And onto the people below
Standing on the deck of the Maid of the Mist.


Unending love.

One moment he was there,
The next moment,
He was Not.

And I adjust to the new reality,
The reality of his absence
Every day.

I didn’t anticipate losing him the way I did.
But the facts remain,
I did.

And the curious thing is…
The sun still shines
And I still laugh,
And when I wake,
I look forward to the day.

He was a part of my life,
One of the best parts, ever.
But he was not my life.

My life – is my own.

And even without him,
It’s still amazing.

– leah ♡

Batman/Superman Review For Mommies:

Not for a young child.
I would consider very carefully before taking anyone young in the faith, sensitive by nature, or tender and vulnerable.

I don’t know what it is about Batman movies pulling the insanity card out and having actors portray unstable minds…
But they seem to have a corner on that market.

Lex is crazy.
And he does the crazy very well.
He’s literally very sick.
The problem is,
He’s bitter, hateful, and spews vileness in regards to God and Help from Above.
He makes multiple references to the superheroes as little gods,
And multiple statements about God not caring a whit about humanity.

An adult mind, strong in the faith, won’t falter.  They will recognize the twisted perspective as the reason for the dangerous threat Lex is.

A child will absorb the negativity.
Their “shields” are not as strong as ours in that regard.
The words will echo in their minds later, since they will be deposited into their memory banks.

I strongly suggest that any child under the age of 14 not go see that movie.

That is from this mother’s heart to other mother’s hearts.

But if it makes you feel better,
go and preview it on your own before deciding to take them.
It will only cost you $8 and a couple hours of your time,
and I believe that you will find the effort worth it.

From grown up to grown up I give the movie a 4.
Out of 10 stars.
There are a few slivers of goodness that can be pulled out of it, lesson wise, but I won’t be rushing to buy this one for my DVD collection,
Even if Wonder Woman showed up…

Allow the Joy

When you stumble across something
Or someone
During your journey,
Allow yourself to feel the joy of that moment.
That moment that you discovered…
That moment that your world was made sweeter,
Even if it was just for one day.
And carry that joy with you as an elixir for when you grow weary.
Sip slowly from the cup of remembrance,
When lips are parched,
Even if you couldn’t keep the thing,
Or walk with the one,
You found.
You still have the happiness
Of discovery.
And some people don’t.
Some people miss the signals.

Hold tight to the memory.
To that burst of sunlight that came breaking through the clouds,
To the flower you found nestled in humble moss,
To that gentle smile that slipped past your eyes to puddle into your lowest depths.

It was yours,
Your smile,
Your flower,
Your sunshine,
For that moment, anyway.
It was Wholly
And Completely

– leah ♡