Warm Glow of Lights- A Walk in Winter

What was I thinking coming to live in this four seasons country which I have grown to love over the course of time. Canada has been my home for almost 24 years. I left a tropical island with only two seasons-sunny and rainy- for greater opportunities in icy freezing winter. (Not even Canadians born here have gotten use to the cold). We all have to tolerate its chilling tentacles with shape spikes!

I do not like shoveling snow. I do not like waiting for public transit when it is snowing or it has snowed. I hate walking in unplowed streets where the snow is almost my height -about 5 feet; and to make it worst, the city have a way of blocking you in with snow,  especially if you live on a side street leading into a main street. And do not talk about the wind; sometimes I do not know which is worst-the snow drifting in the blustering wind; or, that sneaky cold breeze that stings when you least expect it.

I do not like the wind trying to find a way to sneak under my many layers of clothing, making me feel under-dressed.  My friend told me years ago when I first came to Canada, that you cannot get rid of the cold no matter how much you’re padded up or bundled up; also, there is no fashion when it comes to winter. She said that it is okay to have two hats on your head, four extra layers of clothing on, and it’s better to stay warm than to be fashionable. Well, I will argue the latter with her, there is some fashion in winter.

On a positive note, I refuse the cold to keep me indoors. Too much ‘indoors’ will send me insane.  O yes, I have itchy feet, I must walk; just have to go outside. The cold cannot keep me in, even on days when all I see is the vapor coming out of the mouths or nostrils of people; or, I get that nod from the neighbors with eyes peering through ninja style hats or scarves- I feel you too. Me, I’m covered up too, the only parts of me that I might leave exposed for a quick  snapping of photos, are my right hand fingers. Seriously. I just realized that I do not text or make any calls while trying to stay warm on a blustery biting cold day or night.

Warm Glow of Lights is a  poem or thought on lines according to Catherine Cookson, that I wrote to a beat in my head; I sang and chanted it while walking to get my daughter from the babysitter. The evening was just perfect, cold and crisp– warm lights were striking across the sky; some having the appearance of angels. I raised my voice to my contentment  as my deepest thoughts and prayers were with all the poor souls who were making their way out of the bitter cold.

Today my sentiment remains the same. The cold weather forces me to think of the homeless and the underprivileged in my community. While I might not like winter, I will be dressing very warm to extend my help for a worthy cause.

#outofthecold #homelessness #metoo

 

Warm Glow of Lights

By jjf edited 2017

Glow night snow

glow lights over the hearts

warming in shelters

beaming over all who are

fortunate to be

tucked away from the tentacles

of winter: snow sprawls all over,

nipping at everything; as clouds linger in an

overcast of freezing

windchills that you wish not even your enemies

 be in this shivering bitter cold.

My prayer is that no person be found outside,

with hardly any vital signs; or no fire to cover the coldest

curdled hard to fight against winter’s elements

where the outside lights will not keep you warm

tears are useless in the cold, it freezes up

so on this biting, frosty night

it will be warmer with others; to share a fireplace, a kitchen, a bed

I beseech you find cover that will shield you

against the coldest needles which can pierce

even the warmest of spirits…

(c) 2015 jjf

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Just Rest

 

Just Rest

When your soul pains in despair

Lay your head gently to rest upon the Savior’s breast

When tiredness grip your loins

Rest assured that His love will carry you on

God will never give up on you

No matter how far you run

He will carry you in His bosom

Lift you when you fall

He’ll embalm your knees, wipe your tears

And let His glory shine on your countenance

Remain assured as you rest your life

In the Master’s hands;  He will guide you on.

Jjf @ 2016

For No Reason

The valley of Tears girl crying

 For No Reason 

This prose was written in 2014 as part of my healing from the pain of sexual abuse. Through an amazing in-depth counseling group for women in transition, plus the love and the prayers of believers helped in my healing for a better life.

I dedicate this prose to all those who have been through sexual abuse and sexual assault and is still struggling with the healing process. Always remember you are not alone.  As a child and teenager I, too,  was sexually molested by family members, neighbors, and ‘so-called’ friends.  By writing this poem/prose I managed to get rid of the venom of the abusers who attempted to hide in the crevice of my soul.

Before my complete healing, I tried getting deliverance through so many means: smoking, drinking, clubbing; but, too no avail. On and off depression trailed me like an old snake, which tried its best to suck the blood from my heels. But ah, Jesus Christ came to my rescue.  I was able to get my thoughts untangled from the abusers’ web. Thank you, Lord!  

Presently, my aim is to encourage and to bring healing to others who were victimized and violated by any type of sexual predators. I am willing to donate my story. Yes, it’s time to tell! They are evil; they can’t see the eyes of the babies crying, they have blocked their soul while drawing on the pure breathe of their own seeds. 

A new dawn has drastically arrived to help in our inner healing, the listening ears of those who care are here to help us, we are not alone. #MeToo #YouToo

 

For No Reason

Yesterday, while on an errand I stole some time to play,

I didn’t think of time and space; only wanted the day

To skip over wildflowers, small rocks, even to dodge wild dogs

Pause for moments to watch hogs dig in the dirty river,

And to find a way through the murkiness of logs.

I greeted the neighbor, and was summoned inside-

Never occurred that I was sentenced to chide.

The fubsy shadow covered the wall;

Creating a blanket for my great fall.

There he was sitting in his usual chair,

‘Chile come over here’

And with no hesitation held me forever,

As my blood dripped upon his massive finger-

Shock and in pain fear flooded my spine.

Who can I tell of this ordeal of mine?

For no reason, I couldn’t tell father or mother,

I dried my tears and promise to stay away from

the monster upstairs-

I heard no whisper,

Only quiet and silence.

And when I wish that the anguish would wash away,

With every hurricane or flood lifting from the quay-

Another greeted me with charm;

No sense of alarm.

All the while scrutinizing my ripe age,

My innocence now trapped in a cage.

Every other night while mama worked hard,

My dearest gently spread my legs out wide-

Pierced me with his stick, then gave me candy for a treat,

 Drawing from a cistern that didn’t belong to him.

Deep within I became the song of grim;

No good hymn could soothe my soul.

As the heavy breath of alcohol streamed down my neck,

Dead to the smoke which blinded my perception:

‘Mama didn’t care’

And somewhere the whisper came, ‘don’t cry’

Quiet. Silence.

Tears forming creases on the corner of my eyes;

Where are you God of whom mama spoke about-

Yet, I have not abandoned you, my Lord,

Maybe you have a reason for what I couldn’t describe,

‘Cause the sun still shone on me every morning,

And if there was no sun; the moon guided me

Out of the Valley of Baca

Out of a name that doesn’t belong to me.

Oh, how I wish that the angels took me away to be cleansed-

In pure waters, ever flowing waters;

To wash away the guilt that stained me for no reason.

Today the trees didn’t move, the grass didn’t sway,

The clouds stood still-

I wanted to die, for soon another came by.

Was there a spell cast on me?

Was there an attachment to the imps, the devils which ravished

The young who cries daily for a savior?

The darkness seems endless, when will the light come?

Yet, the more I desire for the light; darkness approached with its

Peeping Toms-timing and watching my every move;

Like outlaws, fugitives, they cast shadows behind back doors,

Longing to touch: measuring, drooling, in the madness of their minds

Locked me within.

Then for no reason the anger for getting no answers

For my sexual mishaps drew me to conclude:

That the sons of my mother’s womb might not be brothers after all,

Uncles whom I should have embraced,

Or fathers of any kind, pasting floors-

While lusting, sweating for their kin

are all devils in disguise.

The constant hitting of my ankles against the small rocks,

My steps couldn’t keep up with my thoughts,

So I started running,  running from their grip;

Running from under their dark clouds.

Ah, love, my questions are endless.

I see whom my soul loves:

‘Don’t cry’, the whisper said

Quiet. Silence

For no reason I was taken away;

To heal me from the deeply hidden concoction of their sexual exploitations-

And from beyond I have seen that they can no longer hide

Behind the veil of deception.

Ah, thoughtless, never saw tomorrow coming,

How blind to have planted seeds of your corruption.

Now dead before poisoning my entire being;

I spoke life to my womb and mind,

I ask Him who is ever merciful, to have mercy on your souls.

Then I rest my last question: ‘Why such agonizing pain?’

Why my love, whom my soul seek after?

Again, the whisper came-

Quiet. Silence.

(c)2016 jjf

Reference for Image:

A young girl crying http://arrested-development-ministry.blogspot.ca/p/signs-of-childhood-sexual-abuse.html

The Valley of Baca is found in Psalm 84:6. According to commentary a place which was dry, hard and unpleasant. A place of weeping or lamentation.

Season of Depression

Season of Depression

Time flies

But does it really for me?

The orbit spins faster, my head’s spinning, swirling

Falling deeper into the hole

like Alice in Wonderland,

My head’s in the wrong direction

Pause, I fell fast asleep

Then I awoke to no more sunshine but

The canopy of dark clouds hanging over me

 I sigh, does time really fly?

Sir, have you seen the time?

I left it here a minute ago

Before slumber weighed down my eyes…

(c) jjf 2016

An Uncensored Letter From My Journal

 

Dear Heavenly Father:

I feel hopeless and I need your help. I need your Divine intervention as I struggle so much with these bad habits which I have acquired to ease my pain, to soothe my worries, and appease my restlessness. Depression has partnered with me and I do not like it. I am sorry that I stop depending on you, I managed to find my own help by smoking pot, popping uppers and downers, or by drinking strong drink to keep me alive. I have made clubbing my uplifter-can’t wait for a Friday or Saturday night to get as high as a kite. Yet, the heights annoy me the more. I am sorry, but it’s so hard to let go when all around are friends who are like-minded. How can I get out of this net that I have set for myself?

Each day the choices I make have been horrible – I compromise your word, I rise up early to get stoned, and I go to bed late, stoned. Hoping each time that you will breathe your life into me to wake up to see another day.  I awake to see another day, you have not dealt with me according to my sinful nature. I have belittled what you have started in me and my mind is going over and over like an old record: “Look at you; you who God used at one time.”  Oh, how I wish that my life wasn’t so degraded.

Deliver me from hating who I have become, even hating the real me. Deliver me from all my sins and transgressions which includes my shortcomings.  Help me to see your light this year (2004).   Help me so that when am healed or in the process of my healing I can encourage others to see the right way.  Father,  your lovingkindness is everlasting; your love is in abundance towards me.  You are quite aware that I was born in a world full of good and evil.

Standing  in front of my mirror:

Shut up, get these voices out of my mind!

When did I lose my saltiness; or, when did my light turn off?

My heart has gone astray, can’t figure out the right way.

My soul is tired, my spirit is wounded, I’ve got to stop the madness. It’s hard when one has tasted of your good Father,  and stray like a dog to its vomit. So I pray today, please hear my cry of desperation. I lack the drive to be committed to you again, stagnancy has cemented me in one stinking place. I want to flow in clean waters again.

Then I remember my Bible which I hardly open and read Psalm 43.

Psalm 43:5

Why art thou cast down, O my soul? And why art thou disquieted within me? Hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God. 

© jjf 2016 

 Reference: The King James Version Bible by Public Domain