The whitened scars of winter linger,
Yet above the horizon a snapshot of energy breaks through the darkened clouds.
From the crying intercession the Mourning Dove makes as the day breaks,
To the songs of praise and the reflection of glory the rest of nature pours forth before the first light of the morning,
Every life that has breath, every life that contains color reaches up and sings out.
The warmth of a Southern breeze - the power of a sunrise - the laughter of a child - the atmosphere of life and growth emerging from the rest of the cold - the rejuvenation of our souls.
©Kristen Garcia 3-2013
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Southern Comfort I
Southern Comfort I
The warmth of the air that wraps around me is an envelopment of your love.
To breathe in deep the warmth so that it not only wraps around me but fills me from the inside out.
The caressing of my hair reminds me of the beauty you find in me, and the rest I find in that moment of tenderness can never be replaced.
The tears that fall when your heart is broken from your day, broken for what I have still left to have healed is a side you only wish more could appreciate - but I know where they come from. I know their worth.
The quietest moments where you show how you have learned my heart; my soul; my deepest desires and never cease to amaze me in how you orchestrate the surprises you have for me. Always perfect. Always humbling.
To end the winter early, feel the sun's warmth, to feel a Southern breeze that revives long ago memories - a deep desire so that I can feel your showers of love more and more.
To smell the fragrances of spring; the sweet aroma of the fall - the Earth sending it's quiet petitions to you - and to grab a moment of the beauty. The lingering of the cologne that reminds me you have not so long ago been through that which was made for our enjoyment - to call of your glory.
Let the sun rise. Let the birds sing praise in the early sunrise. Let the colors of the sky proclaim the immense beginning of an artist with the greatest palette to be mixed.
And the beauty of it all - for me. To bring the greatest treasure - a smile - to my face because it sets your heart ablaze. The smallest of things the most valuable of them all - and you move everything possible to capture it.
©Kristen Garcia 2-2013
The warmth of the air that wraps around me is an envelopment of your love.
To breathe in deep the warmth so that it not only wraps around me but fills me from the inside out.
The caressing of my hair reminds me of the beauty you find in me, and the rest I find in that moment of tenderness can never be replaced.
The tears that fall when your heart is broken from your day, broken for what I have still left to have healed is a side you only wish more could appreciate - but I know where they come from. I know their worth.
The quietest moments where you show how you have learned my heart; my soul; my deepest desires and never cease to amaze me in how you orchestrate the surprises you have for me. Always perfect. Always humbling.
To end the winter early, feel the sun's warmth, to feel a Southern breeze that revives long ago memories - a deep desire so that I can feel your showers of love more and more.
To smell the fragrances of spring; the sweet aroma of the fall - the Earth sending it's quiet petitions to you - and to grab a moment of the beauty. The lingering of the cologne that reminds me you have not so long ago been through that which was made for our enjoyment - to call of your glory.
Let the sun rise. Let the birds sing praise in the early sunrise. Let the colors of the sky proclaim the immense beginning of an artist with the greatest palette to be mixed.
And the beauty of it all - for me. To bring the greatest treasure - a smile - to my face because it sets your heart ablaze. The smallest of things the most valuable of them all - and you move everything possible to capture it.
©Kristen Garcia 2-2013
Friday, January 11, 2013
No Other Way
I love that look you give me - even when you just sit back and let me have my *moment*. Even at the end of my patience the look on your face can still make me laugh.
The way you shake your head at me when I just toss my hand up and shoot you The Look. You know all too well just where the end of that will be. And that's probably why you're still a good sport about it all and still chuckle while I'm going on and on.
The way you know just what to say when the world is spinning around me that will grab the hand of my soul and pull me out of the chaos and show me exactly how to take back control over my world.
How every now and then I can steal a dance with you, a snuggle with you, how you will steal away from your duties to meet me for lunch.
And still, you continue to give - from the depths of your heart you give. You find a way to out-do yourself every year - finding that one thing close to my heart and getting it to me quietly for my day when others miss it or don't know its the day to celebrate.
How in a moment's breath you can extinguish the fire of my fury so that I have nothing to later regret or apologize for and so I do not damage your reputation. The last thing I want is to give you something that would force you to make excuses or explain why you have attached yourself to me.
Its that excitement of seeing you every time I can. How you still steal my breath away, how you still can move me to tears with your graciousness and the beauty of your love. The small whispers in my ear to keep my mind racing about what's coming for us, the places we will go, the experiences we will have.
There are days I wonder if you know me too well, but that's the beauty of it. My insatiable love for you wouldn't be the same if that wasn't the case.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
©Kristen Garcia 1-2013
The way you shake your head at me when I just toss my hand up and shoot you The Look. You know all too well just where the end of that will be. And that's probably why you're still a good sport about it all and still chuckle while I'm going on and on.
The way you know just what to say when the world is spinning around me that will grab the hand of my soul and pull me out of the chaos and show me exactly how to take back control over my world.
How every now and then I can steal a dance with you, a snuggle with you, how you will steal away from your duties to meet me for lunch.
And still, you continue to give - from the depths of your heart you give. You find a way to out-do yourself every year - finding that one thing close to my heart and getting it to me quietly for my day when others miss it or don't know its the day to celebrate.
How in a moment's breath you can extinguish the fire of my fury so that I have nothing to later regret or apologize for and so I do not damage your reputation. The last thing I want is to give you something that would force you to make excuses or explain why you have attached yourself to me.
Its that excitement of seeing you every time I can. How you still steal my breath away, how you still can move me to tears with your graciousness and the beauty of your love. The small whispers in my ear to keep my mind racing about what's coming for us, the places we will go, the experiences we will have.
There are days I wonder if you know me too well, but that's the beauty of it. My insatiable love for you wouldn't be the same if that wasn't the case.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
©Kristen Garcia 1-2013
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Just a Carpenter
Just a carpenter - who saw the menial day to day life of work and surviving from the common and the meek.
Just a carpenter - who learned how to take a raw, rough timber and create a strong and magnificent instrument.
Just a carpenter - who sat in the crowd and heard the week to week musings of the priesthood he would eventually school.
Just a carpenter - who could with tender precision smooth out even the knots of any board and make them fit for great use.
Just a carpenter - who with words could paint a story like the enriching color of stain on a masterful creation.
Just a carpenter - who was King.
©Kristen Garcia July 2012
Just a carpenter - who learned how to take a raw, rough timber and create a strong and magnificent instrument.
Just a carpenter - who sat in the crowd and heard the week to week musings of the priesthood he would eventually school.
Just a carpenter - who could with tender precision smooth out even the knots of any board and make them fit for great use.
Just a carpenter - who with words could paint a story like the enriching color of stain on a masterful creation.
Just a carpenter - who was King.
©Kristen Garcia July 2012
Saturday, June 23, 2012
It's always the little ones. . . .
It is never really the big dreams that are the hardest to keep sight of.
It is the smaller dream. The one that every now and then you come close to truly holding in your hand that are sometimes the toughest ones to fight for.
One moment you look and the path to its full realization is in view, and in the moment it takes to breathe it is gone.
The small dreams are the closest dreams. The ones you can almost reach out and touch. The easiest ones to pour your entire heart and soul into - and yet - the dreams that when gone, crush you the deepest.
It is easy to abandon the small dreams. The ones you get a taste of. The ones you can see right in front of you.
To keep the large dreams out beyond the Now means as much as you pour into them, there is also the knowledge that they are so far out that the setbacks do not crush you, only motivate you to try another avenue.
Its the smaller dreams that when crushed make you wonder if the grander dreams are possible. That if these small things - so imbedded in your heart - are crushed one after another after another how will it be possible for even greater to come.
At what point do you finally abandon what is in your heart? What is that last crushing blow?
It is the smaller dream. The one that every now and then you come close to truly holding in your hand that are sometimes the toughest ones to fight for.
One moment you look and the path to its full realization is in view, and in the moment it takes to breathe it is gone.
The small dreams are the closest dreams. The ones you can almost reach out and touch. The easiest ones to pour your entire heart and soul into - and yet - the dreams that when gone, crush you the deepest.
It is easy to abandon the small dreams. The ones you get a taste of. The ones you can see right in front of you.
To keep the large dreams out beyond the Now means as much as you pour into them, there is also the knowledge that they are so far out that the setbacks do not crush you, only motivate you to try another avenue.
Its the smaller dreams that when crushed make you wonder if the grander dreams are possible. That if these small things - so imbedded in your heart - are crushed one after another after another how will it be possible for even greater to come.
At what point do you finally abandon what is in your heart? What is that last crushing blow?
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Conflict my heart
I'm a funny sort, middle ground is rarely found.
I'm the kind that plays for keeps. The kind that goes all in early on knowing that I could lose everything, but, somehow, after losing what I toss into the pile time after time I still go all in.
And, as much as there is a blessing living an all-in type of life, there is also the other side of my quirky self - the side of me that tries to avoid the full brunt of the pain of losing it all again by growing hard.
It forces a conflict in my heart - one that wavers from one extreme of trying to remain through familiar pain, a repeated cycle of loss, stoking the fire of my faith and hope to see the end of what I believe has been said and just not caring anymore and shutting my heart down.
How I have continued to love people when most have walked away, forgotten, and by their actions, or lack thereof, have shown me just where I have fallen as a memory in their life is beyond comprehension. It is one of the small miracles of God that cannot be discounted.
To continue to love when there is no reason my heart should even have a place of softness left, let alone to still go all in hoping that this time it will be different - a small miracle of infinite grace.
A prophet said to me a couple of years ago that I was not understood, and because of that I was very isolated. She told me that very soon I would begin having people around me who understood me and my isolation would not continue on.
I have just begun to enter in that phase in my life. It took over 3 decades, and two years of waiting for that prophecy to manifest, but its happening. I still cannot fathom how I have been able to not become a completely cynical and hardened 'lovely' human being.
There are still some realms in limbo, and I do still waver between all hope and saying to myself that I have to hold out, the end is worth the journey and f*it, I'm done - knowing that by doing that I could jeopardize all that I have wanted for my life, let alone the plans God has laid out.
Thankfully, the moments of conflict that hit my heart do not result in a final decision of 'I'm done', although sometimes it's hard. Hope and faith are not easy choices, not by far, but - they are the better choices - the right choices.
Believe at all costs - call things as if they are not yet in existence. The promises are sure, worth the heartache of waiting because when they do arrive, the revelation of their worth reveals the why the cost of the wait was so great.
Believe and Know- at all costs.
I'm the kind that plays for keeps. The kind that goes all in early on knowing that I could lose everything, but, somehow, after losing what I toss into the pile time after time I still go all in.
And, as much as there is a blessing living an all-in type of life, there is also the other side of my quirky self - the side of me that tries to avoid the full brunt of the pain of losing it all again by growing hard.
It forces a conflict in my heart - one that wavers from one extreme of trying to remain through familiar pain, a repeated cycle of loss, stoking the fire of my faith and hope to see the end of what I believe has been said and just not caring anymore and shutting my heart down.
How I have continued to love people when most have walked away, forgotten, and by their actions, or lack thereof, have shown me just where I have fallen as a memory in their life is beyond comprehension. It is one of the small miracles of God that cannot be discounted.
To continue to love when there is no reason my heart should even have a place of softness left, let alone to still go all in hoping that this time it will be different - a small miracle of infinite grace.
A prophet said to me a couple of years ago that I was not understood, and because of that I was very isolated. She told me that very soon I would begin having people around me who understood me and my isolation would not continue on.
I have just begun to enter in that phase in my life. It took over 3 decades, and two years of waiting for that prophecy to manifest, but its happening. I still cannot fathom how I have been able to not become a completely cynical and hardened 'lovely' human being.
There are still some realms in limbo, and I do still waver between all hope and saying to myself that I have to hold out, the end is worth the journey and f*it, I'm done - knowing that by doing that I could jeopardize all that I have wanted for my life, let alone the plans God has laid out.
Thankfully, the moments of conflict that hit my heart do not result in a final decision of 'I'm done', although sometimes it's hard. Hope and faith are not easy choices, not by far, but - they are the better choices - the right choices.
Believe at all costs - call things as if they are not yet in existence. The promises are sure, worth the heartache of waiting because when they do arrive, the revelation of their worth reveals the why the cost of the wait was so great.
Believe and Know- at all costs.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Promises, Promises
In the blink of an eye we can be forced to look ourselves in the mirror and ask:
'Do I truly trust?'.
Life can change in a breath. Between one heartbeat and the next something can blindside us and we have to decide whether or not we genuinely believe.
Are we willing to lay our Isaacs on the altar? Be on the verge of letting all the life that is in our Promise be ripped open and flow freely upon the ground - knowing that somehow God can resurrect it?
To be given glimpses of the Promise - and to be told to remain strong when the pain was overwhelming - that what was shown was true - that the dreams and promises should never again be forgotten because of their pain -
And then to be in the middle of shadowy days that could hold the crumbling of those foundations - or could hold the greatest move forward toward the manifestation of the Visions of Promise given -
Again, I'm forced to answer the question:
'Do I trust beyond all doubt?'.
The peace that enveloped me in the beginning - when I wondered if the beauty of the Visions of Promise were actually real - returns. Somehow I know it will come to pass. God can and will orchestrate the means to the end.
All I desire is that this time I get Plan A.
The past has been different, however this time Plan B would be seconds and scraps compared to Plan A. I had a chance at Plan B and I refused it for the promises and beauty of Plan A. Surely that sacrifice can be honored and all the joys and beauty and hope in the Promise I have been given can be given in its original intent. This time - I WANT TO WIN. No more getting second best.
And in the near-blinding fog of what the next few days will bring surround me, there is a warmth of peace that although in some moments the tears flow the comfort of God is nearest.
No more a hardened heart - there is greater blessing in mourning and releasing our frailty and being comforted than there is in not feeling any pain. The peace and comfort is all that keeps me centered in these moments.
Whether journeying to a place where the death of a promise is imminent or journeying to a place after a promise has died hoping to have it resurrected hope is never lost - and in the end, the faith in the Promise manifesting and remaining alive reaps deep rewards.
All shall be well, God will have His Promise manifested. I just don't want Him to have to defer to a Plan B.
©Kristen Garcia 2-3-2012
'Do I truly trust?'.
Life can change in a breath. Between one heartbeat and the next something can blindside us and we have to decide whether or not we genuinely believe.
Are we willing to lay our Isaacs on the altar? Be on the verge of letting all the life that is in our Promise be ripped open and flow freely upon the ground - knowing that somehow God can resurrect it?
To be given glimpses of the Promise - and to be told to remain strong when the pain was overwhelming - that what was shown was true - that the dreams and promises should never again be forgotten because of their pain -
And then to be in the middle of shadowy days that could hold the crumbling of those foundations - or could hold the greatest move forward toward the manifestation of the Visions of Promise given -
Again, I'm forced to answer the question:
'Do I trust beyond all doubt?'.
The peace that enveloped me in the beginning - when I wondered if the beauty of the Visions of Promise were actually real - returns. Somehow I know it will come to pass. God can and will orchestrate the means to the end.
All I desire is that this time I get Plan A.
The past has been different, however this time Plan B would be seconds and scraps compared to Plan A. I had a chance at Plan B and I refused it for the promises and beauty of Plan A. Surely that sacrifice can be honored and all the joys and beauty and hope in the Promise I have been given can be given in its original intent. This time - I WANT TO WIN. No more getting second best.
And in the near-blinding fog of what the next few days will bring surround me, there is a warmth of peace that although in some moments the tears flow the comfort of God is nearest.
No more a hardened heart - there is greater blessing in mourning and releasing our frailty and being comforted than there is in not feeling any pain. The peace and comfort is all that keeps me centered in these moments.
Whether journeying to a place where the death of a promise is imminent or journeying to a place after a promise has died hoping to have it resurrected hope is never lost - and in the end, the faith in the Promise manifesting and remaining alive reaps deep rewards.
All shall be well, God will have His Promise manifested. I just don't want Him to have to defer to a Plan B.
©Kristen Garcia 2-3-2012
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