Poetic moment

Poetic moment.


Poetic moment


Alter this altar, take this burden from my shoulders.
Allow me to breathe in the peace of your spirit,
Acknowledge the crushing weight of that which I see;
that which I feel.
Alter this feeling, this jumbled mess of cobwebs that
continue to entangle me.
Cut me free from the bonds I feel, that I allow
to engulf my spirit
Alter this time, this place, this moment, I beseech thee.
Grant me strength, the assurance of your presence
Cradle my head, remind me I am yours.
Alter my thoughts, that they might fix firmly on you.
Guide my waking and sleeping moments, abate the storm that
rages within me.
Oh, Lord, my Protector,
Alter me that I might know I am yours,
Alter me, Lord, for I am yours.

cahl dec.08

Waves crash tumultuously against the rocks,


flashing, threatening to overpower.

Cursing their influence, the masses cry


begging the burden be lifted.

“Too much, too much”, the screams fly


frantic to a fever pitch.

“Release the bonds, when will we be free?


whole and wholly pleasing?”

One after another, water upon wave builds


speeding through the ravages.

Yearning and seeking and pleading,

hands groping;

clawing towards

The tether that grounds and sustains-

providing strength,

a way upward.

As sure as the stars are fixed above,

there is reason

there is rhyme.

Calm amidst the torrent of storm.

It is that that we seek,

Within that, we are pursued.

Peaceful pursuit of our deepest groans-

lovingly embraced.

cahl march 11

—-To You, My Child.

You are not on display
Nor for show.

You, my child, are my creation,
Holy and blameless.

I purchased you for a Holy price,
For your peace.

Rest not on your own laurels,
Boast of me.

There is much I want to show you,
To reveal.

You, my child, are my chosen One-
I will redeem.

I will redeem your pain, your struggle,
Your longing.

I know your heart, dear child, and you are
You are my child.

No matter the age you claim,
You are my child.

Do not despair, my little one,
My peace—

My peace throughout all the storms,
My peace will come.

Do not let go of my hand, remember
I am with you.

Peace, my child, peace to your heart,
Your soul, mind, and body.

Do not despair my child, my little one,
We are One.

cahl dec 10

Laugh it UP!

Laugh it UP!.

Laugh it UP!

Still feel like writing, but having blown up a huge inflatable trampoline and sitting here with a Johnny Depp t-shirt on, I am inclined to be a little less–serious.  So….items that make me laugh…veritably.

1)  My pug’s snore

2)  My youngest son’s laugh…gets me every stinking time.

3)  Donkey on Shrek

4)  Bow ties on anyone

5)  Cleverly worded advertising, note it is not to be misspelled or used incorrectly in terms of grammar.

6)  Little girls in tutus.

7)  little boys in suit and tie–complete with coat.

8)  Silly String

9)  Pillow Fights.

10)  Well executed practical jokes.

11)  SNL during the 80’s

12)  Most 2 1/2-3 year olds

13)  puppies

14)  Old persons pranking the young ins

15)  Pauly Shore movies—no accounting for intelligence here

16)  Uni Brows

17)  Lederhosen

18)  Slinky

19)  Sliding my feet in the mud

20)  My sons in great and silly moods.  NOTHING BETTER!

WHAT in the WORLD?

WHAT in the WORLD?.

WHAT in the WORLD?

Writing bug has bitten….that and I am in too much pain neck and shoulder wise to do much physically.

I have watched the news posts as of late and listened as my youngest child ventured out of the house to school for the first time….a whole new world opens to him….one from which I cannot protect him.  One which I do not necessarily understand, one which I cannot control.  I hate that.  I have to let go and believe that I have done the best to prepare both of my children for a world which I have never seen, experienced, and on some level am afraid.  Some of the things make my blood run cold, others piss me off, and others baffle me beyond what I can express……  A few are listed

1)  a single petabyte stores 1 quadrillion bytes of information….there are computers out there that can store 12.4 quadrillion bytes and can perform those commands in 1 second….My brain cannot conceive of that.

2)  More information is accessed through WWW than any other media

3)  Kids could ruin us with one press of a text button…and most don’t care.  SAD.

4)  They would also kill each other for their XBox 360 Call of Duty.

5)  No way my classmates and I would kill each other for our Air Jordans….i didn’t even own Air Jordans….much less Guess jeans

6)  Sanctity of life is batted around like a political statement instead of a state of being…and revered no matter the age or the situation.

7)  By 2020 Mental Illness and its related impacts will replace Heart Disease as the #1 killer of Adults

8)  Ritalin is new “wonder drug” ?

9)  Labradoodles. nuf said.

10)  Deep fat fried butter, and related candy bars….harden an artery anyone?

11)  Society’s lack of understanding of community, but would cry out for help in a heartbeat if they needed it.

12)  Any cruelty to animals or humans….period.

13)  Al Gore inventing the internet?  Still stumps me.

14)  The outcry to abolish all government as it is deemed evil and despicable, but what happens when the roads need repairing?

15)  Intolerance for ignorance sake.

16)  Water chestnuts…they SQUEAK!

17)  Bacon flavored vodka.  HUH?

18)  Society celebrating a week without mass shootings by a psychopath only to have police open at least 16 rounds of ammo the next day to take down 1 person.

19)  The fact that we almost celebrated a week without mass shootings by a psychopath.

20)  Nicki Minaj.  WHOA….HELLO!

21)  Loss of community over uber self-interest

22)  The Angry Birds craze

23)  Brett Favre’s incessant need to “hang on”

24)  Blogging as a pre dominant form of communication….divinewrites notwithstanding.  (hee hee)

25) Duckbill platypus….our CREATOR has an outstanding sense of humor.

26)  I live in the Midwest, the center of Agriculture, yet my state ingests the lowest amount of fresh fruits and veggies per capita.

27)  Our inability to show our educators the true value of the time, work, sacrifice, and dedication with which they serve our children and young people every day.  PAY THEM !

28)  Absolute power corrupting absolutely.

29)  Where in the world is the other sock…why do we lose a sock every time we do the laundry?

30)  Toe jam and belly button lint.



BUT!!!! i HATE to FLY

BUT!!!! i HATE to FLY.

BUT!!!! i HATE to FLY

“Delta flight out of Sioux Falls leaving at 12:35 pm August 7 has already been delayed.  Please refer to check in times when you arrive”

GREAT!!!!  Just what I wanted to hear, leaving for almost a week, on my own, knowing the last time I took a trip by myself I was going to North Carolina, 3 months pregnant, and my luggage was lost for 2 days.  NOOOOOO!  This is not going to happen again!  Yet, here I was, back at an airport, flying back to Asheville (yes home to filming of the Hunger Games), and this time my son is 5 and I am no longer pregnant…and I have included a change of clothes in my carry-on.  HAve I mentioned that I LOATHE flying?

So, the stage is set for what looms ahead, my last trip to the east firmly in my mind, I anticipate with massive trepidation what will occur.  While I yearn for adventure and creativity,  i tend not to do well when it comes to flying.  The take-off and the landing are the spots that get me the most, I try to hold my breath as soon as I feel the descent.  I find that this is not a wise move, since a DESCENT could last longer than the actual flight.  I am learning to re-vamp my strategy–slowly.

I sit at Joe Foss airport and wish to god that I had a pair of ruby-red slippers, maybe if I could just click my heels together…I could magically transport.  Maybe if Madeleine L’Engle is correct, I can tesseract my way to North Carolina….maybe, just maybe.  No, the plane is now 1 1/2 hours late, having a mechanical issue and the part needed did not come in FED EX…ok, then, send Harry Potter’s owl to fetch it…DO SOMETHING!

Restless passengers eye one another, I check my ticket for the umpteenth time and vow that no matter what, I have my will in place (at least verbally) so should something happen to me….my love ones know what to do with my earthly possessions.  AS IF i had any earthly possessions…I just graduated Seminary, the Federal Government owns me!

FINALLY we are to board, and I walk down the ramp, no one feeling the confusion and apprehension that I feel.  No one suspects that I am terrified to fly, or that I have left the 2 most important people in my life with their father….I KNOW they will be fine.  I also know that I HAVE to make this trip, that it has been gnawing at my guts for a number of years and months since I received finances to make the trip.  Truth is, I fell in love with NC 5 years ago and the trip I am making is to an International Biblical Storyteller’s Conference.  Storytellers?  ME?  Me.

I look for my seat, silently thanking the airline gods that I am able to find the seat (the correct one) and stow my carry-on luggage (which can hold a small pug—-not that I would know) and buckle my seatbelt.  The person next to me is ….a kid.  Well, not a small kid, but compared to my age and station, he’s a kid.  We talk

He is on his way to interview for another summer internship with Monsanto,he has been in Nebraska all summer with them and the package they give these interns is amazing…car, gas, living expenses, food, lodging, and a credit card for the summer.  HELLO!  Here I smile quietly to myself as I introduce myself as working for a grassroots community development non-profit which specializes in school teaching gardens.  The exact opposite of the agriculture hemispheres collide and I think what more odd moments could happen on this day?

More was in store as we continue to climb in altitude.  We continue to talk and realize that small ag is not a threat to big business, nor is big business the all-encompassing evil we think it is.  They can co-exist and understand one another, if we allow it to happen.  ANYWAY……we talk about what is happening and I find out that he is from a small town in southeastern mn, where lo and behold, a person that I work with daily lives.  Connection 2 established and then a couple more when we talk about people that he knows.  We really do live in a small, small world.

We laugh thinking what an incubator we live in when I start thinking about SDSU in Brookings….my alma mater.  I spent a number of good years there and fell in love with the town as much as I did the people.  There are just some places that have good energy…Brookings, SD is one of them.  We gab of campus and the changes and I giggle thinking of my dorm in Wecota…all the furniture was moveable.  I remembered my first class in BIO Stress Building and my first day at Doner! and the trek from Wecota to HPER in the dead of winter.  He is total AG-buisness….I smile.  He is all of 20 and gets to move off campus for the first time.

Fasten your belts…this gets bumpy.  He describes the house he is moving into with 5 other guys.  I ask if he has invested in Febreze and he proceeds to describe a little mint green house with cute white shutters…well, he didn’t say cute…I did.  Starts to name the address and before I know it he cites a McDonald’s right up the street and a little further up the block used to be a Zesto’s.  1448 7th Street I inquire and he nods.

NO WAY!!!!  That is my 1448 1/4 7th street.  Well, mine and my Jenn’s.  I lived there in college and sat there aghast as he talked of the sliding kitchen door one can hear from every room in the house.  I lived in the basement and wanted to live on the main floor with the hardwood floors.  I lived there as I student taught and underwent my first sinus surgery with Dr. DeSautel.  HE worked wonders.  I laughed and studied and dreamed there, now a house full of 6 boys will do the same.  Those in the basement still have the huge armoire in the large bedroom and a set of pale pink dishes with ivy on them….Compliments of an aspiring theatre major.

Day one on my trip and my first flight sees connections that I could not possibly invent on my way to Mpls.  The flight went on without incident, I forgot to hold my breath, forgot to be scared of taking off, forgot to be scared to fly.

I know that many may read this and disregard my comments as so many coincidence….it wasn’t.  There is no way I could put together that chain of connections in that time and place to reveal to me at that moment.  I could not invent that and I did not ask for those variables to be present.  Truth is, I wanted to be a bit surly, soaking in my discomforture.  i did not want to admit to anyone how excited I was to be going back to NC or to be a Storyteller….or to incorporate my love of theatre, music, writing, and faith all into one arena.  I did not want to admit that anything that perfect existed or that I would be so called to do so.  So called….me, who hates to fly–so called out of the nest.  So called, to fly.









Do you See what I SEE?

Do you See what I SEE?.

Do you See what I SEE?

It begins at 6:30 am, 7:00 am-if I am lucky.  Up from his spot on the floor, because neither of my children will sleep in their own rooms, my oldest will jump up  and run tearing through the house, looking for the next sleeping victim to rip from their slumber.  Because the youngest is a nightowl, I am lucky to see sleep by midnight…Weary and bleary eyed, I listen to my oldest son scream at planes he has made the night before and turn the TV up louder than snoring can cover.  I sigh, knowing another day has begun.

I love my sons with all that I am.  I would do anything for them and will advocate and fight for and with them my whole life.  There is nothing that I would not do to make sure they grow to the men I pray they become.  I lay awake at night and wonder what more I can do, what more I can supply for both of them.  Often, I am left still wondering and hoping I am doing the right thing….whatever that means.

I watch and I listen.  I watch what I remember as my oldest was a baby  and he fussed and fussed, who would not let me put him down–who would not let me out of his sight the whole first year.  Who continued to grow into a toddler, with a verbal expression and physical control that amazed most people.  He was shooting baskets at 2 1/2 and speaking in full sentences.  I was astounded, and already tired.  Already full of energy, able to feel his way through situations, and with an intelligence that was evident, he hurled toward toddlerhood as I brought my youngest into the world.

The gloves were off, now I had an angry 3 year old coupled with a newborn I was nursing.  I was convinced I was gonna do this right!!  no matter what it cost me in sanity.  What is right, anyway?  My oldest was livid with me for daring to bring another into the family–so was my dog.  We had to let her go when I found her using my pillow on my bed as her personal toilet.–that’s another story.

My oldest hated that child and hated/loved me more fiercely than I had seen him.  Almost exclusively attached to me, I worked  hard for him to establish his independence, which he did–and he flourished.  Even bigger gains in intelligence and understanding took place, but the energy and activity level sky-rocketed to highs that saw him clawing at the window blinds and banging his head on the wall in anger and frustration.  THIS was my first born, the one who had been with me the longest…what had I done to him?  What had I not done for him?

I remember a day when he becme so angry at my youngest that he tried to attack him with a metal baseball bat….I stepped in between and took the bat swat from my son instead…I threw the bat away as soon as I was calm enough to gather my thoughts.  That day saw my son ripping curtains in his room and clawing at the walls….I still do not know what set him off, I don’t think I ever will.

Onto my lap I pulled him and set him so his back was against my chest and rocked him back and forth like I did when he was tiny….I whispered, I shushed, I sang, he was enraged.  He threw his head against my nose, heard it crack, and he laughed.  I fought back tears and forged on…I had to save my son.  That was the longest afternoon I remember, there have been others, but none when I have been so scared.  I will never forget that, yet I wonder, what did that moment say and do to my son?  I am not sure I will ever know.

Fast forward to school and 3 solid years of worry and fear.  Test after test after IEP meetings….NO!!! he is not special ed, not able to comply or function.  He is my son and he has a name.  PLEASE!  Won’t someone see the constant chewing of fingernails and any other non-food item….please someone advise me how to handle a passionate and strong young man full of energy that he appears like a tornado the moment he wakes up and sleeps only when his nighttime med allows his body to rest.

Someone please watch his face when he is frustrated with the fact he will never be perfect and he doesa not know how to reconcile that.  Tell me what I am supposed to say to my oldest who asks me to find a gun and kill him, or continue to bang his head against the all–with his fists, or whatever is handy.  Someone please tell me it is not because I am adopted or that I had medication when I carried him or that I have genetically passed something on to him…I know all of us want someone or something to blame when there are no answers, but someone please tell me this will resolve.

I continue to watch, to monitor.  My oldest would still like to “take out” his brother.  He has said horrendous things to me, has destroyed much of the furniture and his toys, and is still attached to me like none other.  He is also sweet and understanding of global pain and heartache.  He knows about prayer and God and creation and possesses a deep spirituality which he questions with logic and inquiry.  He is smarter than any person I know at that age, except maybe my older brother….his uncle.  He is compassionate to a fault, yet will turn around and without batting an eye will choke my youngest and throw him to the ground.  There are times I cannot get there in time….when my youngest will take matters into his own hands.  Sometimes I have to let it happen, sometimes I don’t know what to do.

I am not sure what I am seeking…maybe nothing.  Maybe I am just a tired old mom, who does not want to feel so old and tired at 37.  Maybe I just want breathing room or the chance to feel like it is not my fault or that I am walking on egg shells all the time.  Maybe I want to experience my son without a bated breath of what will happen next, maybe I just want to breathe—AND!  to use the bathroom all by myself 😉

The constant noise, onslaught of questions and need and emotion from this wonder of my son–it takes a toll.  I know there are other parents out there dealing with this….I know they are my age and younger.  If someone is out there reading this who is older–please listen and see!  Sometimes when they are telling you, I need a break, they are not making casual conversation.  There are times when the pressure and exhaustion of it all gets to be too much, yet most of us (women especially) will never say when it’s too much.  They will put their head down, swallow the fatigue and guilt, and march bravely on to the next day.  We will walk out to get the mail or take out the garbage and swipe at tears coursing down our cheeks, we will rejoice in silence of a grocery store trip alone, or blare the music on full blast and sing out frustration on the way home….BECAUSE we can and we HAVE to!  We look for excuses to extend a trip alone a bit longer, when sitting with people who are older and kind and wise mean more than we can articulate.  When the idea of sleeping the day away sounds like heaven on earth.

Please, See what I see..hear what I hear…Please?



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