Sticky Words

There is so much power in our words.

The way we talk to others, about others and even about ourselves will often reveal the truth in our hearts. The words we speak can bless or curse our lives and those in it.

Words stick to us. Words will dig deep into our souls. If it is a word of truth, a beautiful tree full of life can grow.

If words are full of viscious lies, the damage is severe and where life was once full, vibrant and strong, words full of lies and hatred can beat down the beautiful life until only a scarred, burnt, black tree remains. Some of us feel this way about ourselves or we are desperately trying to speak life and beauty back into those torn down by the stinging, cursing tongue.

But Jesus.

Jesus is truth. He is life. He is love.

When Jesus enters the canvas of our lives His words transform, heal and restore. The scars heal, new growth breaks forth and a hint of green begins to break forth past the blackness that overtook the beauty. Branches grow back full of leaves, and roots grow deeper in the truth.

Restoration can occur. Healing can take place.

Speak life. Choose a better way. Value everyone, even those in the womb. Will your tongue reveal a darkness within or light and love? Are you choosing to value life and love deeply? Look around you and you will see.

Words can build up or tear down world’s.

Which one will you choose?

Will You Listen?

I have a story to tell but I am sworn to silence.

I want to tell you of heaven and hell and how I’ve experienced both.

I have a story to tell. I am told to lie and that I am to blame.

I experience heartbreak after heartbreak as my voice gets thrown under the rug. Other people tell me that my life is fine. I come and go believing that others can take from me however they desire. I have been ground down to nothing. Is it no wonder I don’t know who I am? Is it no wonder that I just stare blankly instead of scream when sex and nudity is the norm? After all, I am told I get to choose who I am so this is just helping me decide. Words that cut like knives and clothes that cover bruises is what I am told is okay. Sexual education is taught in the bedroom, in the living room and on my phone. This is okay because I get to choose my sex and this is called parenting.

When I come up to the light no one comes to save me.

Who will be my voice and speak up for me? Who will show me I am worth it?

I have a story to tell, now set me free so that I can speak it or shout it if I want to.

I am tired of these chains holding me down. Set me free and I will run to safety.

I have a story to tell. I will only utter the words of darkness so you will know that Heaven gave me my freedom instead of the world.

I have a story to tell.

Will you listen?

My Response 


My prayers shake the atmosphere.

Beauty rises from the ashes.

Dry bones come to life.

In life and death, in joy and sorrow, in acceptance and rejection I still need you God.

Tears may fall but I know that you love me.

You are good.

You are love.

You are joy.

I will live for you all of my days.

                                                         

I Failed At Coming Up With A Good Title. Creative Writing Here.

Here is a little piece of creative writing that I have been working on. This is the kind of writing that I absolutely love to do. Enjoy!


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I walked down the rocky path full of colors of grey and brown. I descended from a mountain high up where home base was to welcome me back from a raging battle. There was no rest to greet me, no genuine camaraderie among those I called friends. Instead a hug turned into a stab in my back.

As I descended I came upon an old friend. The building was old yet it somehow resonated with something new that I could not place a word for. Silence rang through the thick, dense fog while smoke rose up from the remaining ashes of what once was a place full of laughter. An ache settled in my heart as if the bleeding wound I desperately needed to get care for resided deep within the slow beat of my heart. A crow made me aware that death was within walking distance from the ashes and as I looked up he was there as if to mock my presence.

With a deep breath that sent piercing pain through my ribs I gathered what strength was left within me and quickened my pace to enter the doors of an old sanctuary. Hoping it would shelter me from the rage of the one hunting me I sank into the shadows gasping for fresh air. Intently I listened for any sound that would alert me that I needed to flee. All I could hear was the blood pulsing through my body. I began to pray.

Nothing stirred. Even the crow seemed to be silenced. As if on cue a chill ran down my spine. At first all I saw was a glint of silver but I did not know whether it was from a sword or the edge of armor. He knew where I was. This was no longer my home. Somehow I needed to find my way to safety. As I slowly stepped deeper into a hallway it revealed his location around the corner. Our eyes locked and for an instant I saw who he really was. No amount of armor, or lie could keep it hidden.

As I began to turn from him he yelled, “You cannot run from me. You will belong to me just like all the others.” Hatred and rage engulfed him in flames of furry. He laughed as I walked from him into another hallway. It was there that I saw the others he was talking about. There they were on the right and the left. Some were friends, others were family, and all were moaning and in awful pain. Some were bleeding so much I knew there was nothing that I could do to save them.

Tears streamed down my face for I loved each one so much. The darkness seemed to hone in upon me as I looked down. A moan from deep within me filled the space for there were no words for this pain. As I passed each one they seemed to be tormented within their own mind. Not one acknowledged that I was there. I fell to my knees and bent over in pain. How was I going to make it to safety? Blood soon was pouring down my arm into my hand. Hope within me was dwindling. The air was so thick with death.

Closing my eyes I sought the Lord for strength and for some hope of a way out. As I opened my eyes there shone a light revealing a path out. Behind me arose a strong and mighty warrior. From him I heard, “Kara, you are strong. This man is lying to you. Do not look to the right or to the left. Keep your eyes on the light. The light is truth. Get up and keep walking.”

With everything within me I stood back up looking directly into the light. Each step was painful. I felt so tired but hope was pumping through my veins. Every time I faltered a bit I heard, “Keep walking. You can do this. You are strong.” And each time I slightly turned my head to the side he said, “Keep looking towards the light. Pay no attention to these lies.”


I keep walking…

(To be continued)

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