We the Church

Cross swinging from a chain? Sitting in church every Sunday? Giving to the church? Teaching Sunday School? What makes a Christian? As if that matters anymore. The world has written us off as elitist, racist, oppressive, unwelcoming, manipulative, money grabbing, ignorant, delusional…the list goes on. When will we realize that inside we are all the same? Mexican, Russian or African; Christian, Muslim or Jew. Or whatever. We all want to be safe, secure and part of a loving community. Maybe we need to do away with religion so we can concentrate on the spiritual. Love is the common bond for all of us.

Connections

Did you, too?

Have you been there?

Do you, really?

Thank you.

I’m glad you’re here.

I’m glad I’M here.

This is work.

I want to get better.

I wish I could sleep.

I sleep too much.

I’m ready to commit to that.

I’m ready to quit.

I trust you.

Thank you for being there for me.

A Light

A light twinkles

In the distance;

It is my hope,

Fragile, yet strong.

Will a big gust of wind

Blow out my candle?

I am protected

By many walls:

Meds, doctors,

Counselors, family,

Friends and helpers.

That gust of wind

Can blow if it must,

But my light will not

Be extinguished.

I will use

The tools I’ve been given.

I will continue the struggle,

And I will win.

Strong

Experience.

A light bulb turns on.

Words flow like breathing.

Comfortable.

Fellow warriors

Keeping each other company.

Along for the ride,

Together.

Be there for you,

Whenever you need someone.

Any time, any place.

Trust me.

I’ll hold out a light

So you can see your way.

Brothers and sisters

Of mental illness.

Strong.

Perseverance

A Miracle

Gliding along the currents of air,

I’m lifted by the light that shines on me.

Love permeates my being,

Like a spear piercing my side.

The nails are hammered through

My ragged wrists. I cry out,

My God, my God, why?

Have you forsaken me?

The dusk descends and they lower

My cross, loosen my body

And carry me to my tomb.

I stand on a mountaintop.

Throw yourself down!

God’s angels will save you.

Turn these stones into bread.

You are hungry. Go ahead.

Freedom! I am set free by God’s hand.

Risen at last and the tombstone

Is rolled away.

A Normal Day

A “normal” day

Is an unusual occurrence

For those of us

With bipolar.

But if our meds

Are doing what they’re supposed to,

And drama is kept to a minimum,

Occasionally,

We might find ourselves

Having a normal day.

I had a normal day today,

And it felt good.

Not so stressful

As a typical day,

I wasn’t anxious

Like I usually am.

I was just me,

Living life,

Almost like a normal person.

The Base

Bell ring sound thing but how ding dong

Do you think I’m able to drink from the

Fountain of mirth slow table so search

Drab covers hide glad tidings minuet so

Delve into duty with one foot on the base

Waiting for a Miracle

Drooping flower hangs over.

The rain is so heavy.

No new blooms today.

Soil is contaminated,

Roots are exposed.

Reaching up for sunlight.

Climbing to the sky.

Once the weather was nice.

Once the ground was fertile.

Now it’s just rocks and used up dirt.

No nutrients to feed the plant.

But hope remains.

The rain will bathe

The thirsty leaves.

The sun will shine.

There is a miracle coming soon.

Both Ways

Sharing smothered thoughts,

Restricted feelings abound.

Hesitation rules the imagination,

Hiding from the truth,

Although it tortures me.

Yearning for stability,

Some kind of consistency.

If only I could have it both ways!