Telling the Truth

connecting the dots of my life

Category: Haiku/Poetry

October 11, 2017

tiny drops of dew

We exist only because
God believes in us
And risks everything on our account

And who are “we”?
We are not the United States of America.
We are not any country on the face of this earth.
This is not our earth; not even our good earth.
It too belongs to God who believes in us
Not as the exceptional stars of God’s show
But as the everyday gardeners whose sole duty
Is to plow the ground and harvest the fruit
Of God’s great Harvest most of which
We will never see in our lifetimes.

We are not the stars or the sun or even the moon.
We are reflections of God’s great glory shining
Beyond light into our darkness filling our cups
To overflowing with tiny drops of dew each morning
Enough for this day when given away before it
Evaporates and returns to God who sent it.

I exist only because
God believes in me
And risks everything on my account

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 11 October 2017
Photo taken by DAFraser, August 2017
Daily Prompt: Exceptional

12 Comments
October 9, 2017

Monday Sabbath

Subdued
I pull comfort clothes
Close around my chilled body

Raindrops
Fall steady on the roof
Wind gusts whip through trees

Outside
Tires beat damp paths
From somewhere to somewhere else

Inside
My heart beats tired
Ready for Monday Sabbath

Or
Was it yesterday
I don’t recall for sure

But
Just in case
I’m not taking any chances

Today
Is Sabbath Rest
My body already believes
And I follow
Now

Yes, friends, in need of another day of rest. The best kind ever—rainy, damp, cool and windy. It didn’t take much to convince me….back tomorrow.

Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 10 October 2017
Photo found at Pixabay
Daily Prompt: Believe

4 Comments
October 7, 2017

yesterday’s memories


bluer than blue
greener than green
yesterday’s memories
filter deep water
refocus depth of perception
brilliance and light
shadows and darkness
in this transient season
not of our making
or understanding

Photos of reflections on water often capture more depth of perspective and color, along with greater detail than we could see in the moment the camera clicked. And, strangely, there’s often truth and beauty in these photos that captures my heart even more than it did when the camera clicked.

In the end, Truth lives beyond our individual perceptions. All the more reason for humility, openness, and listening ears. For me, this means at least a twofold commitment to spiritual elasticity that

  • doesn’t give away or abandon Truth,
  • and fully understands and even loves that it cannot see or own all Truth.

It isn’t all up to me. My part is to follow Truth and report what I’m seeing. Not what you’re seeing.

The Truth I follow is a person, Jesus Christ, who leads by way of life wisdom, not folly. The path is difficult. Never crystal clear, not engraved in stone, always dangerous and always evolving. I pray for spiritual elasticity to yield and stretch faithfully, in keeping with Jesus’ life, death and deceptively brief ministry on this earth.

A few thoughts for this weekend and Sabbath rest, given the world in which I find myself today. Not bereft of beauty, comfort and hope, and equally no longer the world I thought I knew. Now, more than ever, I need and am grateful for companions on this journey.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 7 October 2017
Photo taken by DAFraser, May 2017 at Longwood Gardens
Daily Prompt: Elastic

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October 3, 2017

The cost of endurance

The cost of endurance drags heavy
on my feet increasingly unwilling
to put one step before another at this
snail’s pace – a lifetime sentence of
fallout from disasters beyond control
out of synch with my world-weary soul

Outside the front door sirens scream
their way toward yet another disaster
while beyond my kitchen windows
trees beneath blue skies and home to
songbirds entice me into yet another
day – interest enough for this old soul

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 3 October 2017
Photo taken by DAFraser, Longwood Gardens, June 2017
Daily Prompt: Interest

12 Comments
September 30, 2017

A gaping void

In the beginning
there was before–
now there is after–
nothing between

A jagged rift
runs through me
marking me for life
despite all things beautiful
that whisper of something better

No path however enticing
takes me back to before
Nor can my fingers find
notes adequate
to mourn the loss
or soothe my aching soul

Yesterday’s maps
fade in dying light

I wake,
longing to shed this dusty self
and be born—
yet again

About 4:15 this morning I couldn’t get back to sleep. I wasn’t restless; I was sad about the distance that lies between my life before and after trauma.

I began this blog nearly 4 years ago. It was my first attempt to write openly about my childhood trauma. As a preacher’s daughter, oldest of four daughters, I always put on my happy face.

After beginning the blog, I discovered Emily Dickinson’s poetry. I love reading it, puzzling over it, making connections between her cryptic words and images, and life as I know it.

Yesterday I read an article sent by a friend who follows this blog. The author, a medical doctor who understands trauma, confirms and gives evidence for the strong possibility that Emily was a survivor of childhood trauma. I found her convincing. If you’d like to read the article, here’s a link.

I don’t know all the secrets hidden within Emily’s cryptic poetry. Yet I understand the need to cloak my language so that truth is told slant. Told in ways that don’t implicate others or me, yet invite us to think about ourselves and the worlds in which we live.

The author of the article suggests that writing poetry was Emily’s way of talking about the unspeakable—whatever it was. A way to stay connected to herself when there was no one around to help her, and possibly, no other way out.

The trauma done to me began before I have memories of it. I don’t remember life without it. Writing poetry has become a lifeline to creative sanity instead of depression. It helps me know and accept myself, just the way I am. Hence the poem above, jotted down in its first version at 4:30am this morning.

Thanks, as always, for reading and listening.
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 30 September 2017
Photo found at pixabay.com

8 Comments
September 28, 2017

Leave your shoes at the door

Please, leave your shoes right here at the door—

  • Worn shreds of poverty and thrift
  • No-nonsense purveyors of roomy comfort
  • Ubiquitous symbols of status or station
  • Spiky towers of fashionable daring
  • Flashy billboards of wealthy pride
  • Rugged boots of ill-fated warfare
  • Proud symbols of ill-gotten gains
  • Hole-riddled soles of life gone sour
  • Toe-pinching restrictions of freedom and joy

Leave them all at the door just for today
and come, rest your aching and world-weary feet
on this dusty shared ground we call Mother Earth

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 28 September 2017
Photo of artwork found at etsy.com

2 Comments
September 27, 2017

A Child’s Prayer Revisited

Near to me,
not far away,
lies a world
where we can be
all that we
were meant to be.
Won’t you come
and go with me?

I wrote this prayer over two years ago. It gave voice to the little girl in me who wanted nothing more than to find a new beginning. To be all that I was meant to be.

I’m still that little girl. Changed on the inside and the outside, yet still Elouise.

And then there’s the world in which we live and die. Also changed, it seems, into an arena of avalanching disasters. Some beyond our control; others the consequences of our internal choices, overt actions, apathy or fear.

And so I hear this prayer differently today. It’s more pointed and demanding, though not in contradiction to my prayer back then. In fact, I’d say its truth is clear to me now in a way it wasn’t in February 2015.

It’s never a coincidence when the desires of our hearts are also the desires of our Creator’s heart. And so this little prayer isn’t really mine. I hear it today as our Creator’s prayer to us, offered and summed up in the earthly life and work of Jesus.

I imagine Jesus inviting all children everywhere to come close to him. It doesn’t matter how young or old we are. What matters is our willingness to stay close to Jesus.

Not our sweetness and light images of Jesus, but Jesus who makes his way through the pages of the Gospels. On his way to a world not far away. Engaged in one interruptive teaching and activity after another. Some verbal, some enacted and some lethal.

Yes, it’s costly. Jesus never promises it will be all sweetness and light. He does, however, promise to stand by us through thick and thin. Are we up to it?

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 27 September 2017
Daily Prompt: Coincidence

6 Comments
September 26, 2017

kneeling for justice

hot sun focuses
with laser-beam precision
on one fallen leaf
illuminating darkness
barely hidden beneath rot

I’m a white woman with a history of being beaten and humiliated. A history I can pretend to ignore if I so choose. In fact, many people I’ve met in my adult life would prefer it that way. It’s easier for everyone if I’m an exception to the rule.

The rule, of course, would be that good girls are rewarded. I don’t buy it. In my experience, good girls rarely find their voices or their strength. They’re too busy trying to please or appease whoever is just above them on the food chain. Or the love chain. Or the work chain. Or the social chain. Need I go on?

Fallen leaves. We love to sing their praises, especially in autumn.

Yesterday evening I went out for my evening walk. The air was exceedingly hot, dry and heavy. Not a cool downdraft anywhere. Walking my favorite paths was like pushing through desert heat. Beautiful in its way, yet almost unbearable.

The search for justice is like slogging through a wasteland of dry leaves falling prematurely from still-green trees. They’re just dead leaves. No problem. A dime a dozen. There must be something wrong with them.

The analogy isn’t perfect. Yet my hat goes off to brothers and sisters who dare kneel for justice denied.

Kneeling wasn’t a safe action in my girlhood, unless it was to pray alone before God who never abandoned me. As an adult white woman I choose to kneel today with those who focus light yet again on what has long been barely hidden beneath rot. Wherever it resides.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 26 September 2017
Daily Prompt: Focused

19 Comments
September 25, 2017

Showing up on Monday morning

Hello God,

It’s me again
Showing up as usual
Listening and hoping for brilliance
To come sailing into the atmosphere
Of this newborn Monday morning

Another week–
What’s it about?
Do I really want to know?
The news headlines aren’t promising
They say where there’s no vision
The people perish

Is it too late to move
To another planet?
Just wondering
No, I don’t expect an answer
Even though I know
You’re listening

The men from the Salvation Army
Just stopped by to pick up
Boxes of things we don’t need anymore
They call it sizing down
I call it saying goodbye
And Godspeed to memories
And dreams of a time
When I thought I knew where I was
And what to do today

When you get this
Would you please give me a call?
Or at least send a postcard?

Sincerely and truly Yours,
Elouise

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 25 September 2017
Photo and historical information found at mynelsonnow.com
Phone booth in Salmo, British Columbia
Daily Prompt: Planet

10 Comments
September 20, 2017

Invitation to a feast

So much anguish
In the world tonight—
Fear and uncertainty
on one side
Belligerent bravado
on the other

Death a daily reality
not to be held back
including death of hope
and relationships

Injustice flourishes–
A parasite eating its sick ways
into our shared psyches
and places of meeting

Yet there You are in our midst—
Showing us how to dance on injustice
instead of trying to ferret it out
from its beguiling masks
of self-righteousness

How difficult it must be
to prepare a table before all of us
around which we might together
take a faltering step or two
following You—
The lord of the only dance in town
that matters

Proverbs 17:1 (The Good News Bible):
Better to eat a dry crust of bread with peace of mind
than have a banquet in a house full of trouble.

***

©Elouise Renich Fraser, 20 September 2017
Image found at mein-brot-bracken.de
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Crumb

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