Written - 2-12-10
I turn the key and walk in, I can smell the sweet aroma of dinner.
You look over your shoulder from the stove and smile - a warm welcome.
I hurry to you and give you a quick kiss, hoping you can't tell.
But, even the smell of dinner cannot mask the smell of a man that is not you.
I hurry off to change, hoping to keep the evening moving along.
You call down the hall - dinner is done. Your voice's tone marked with a tinge of pain.
Dinner, a kiss, a long embrace, how can you not know by now?
But this is not the first time, nor the same lover - its become something of a sickly familiar routine.
But, it has been, what seems like forever since the last time. It is an improvement.
You never asked why and I'm not sure I could have an answer myself.
He wasn't a good lover - you know my body unlike any other.
His eyes didn't light up with anything but lust - no match for your tender passion.
He didn't even smell good - an old shirt of yours lays next to me when you're gone so I can sleep.
So why? I don't know. I never do.
Your friends warned you long ago - If she did it once, she will do it again - you simply said you loved me. They called you a fool.
And now, sitting across the table from you, I dare not see if that love still lingers in your eyes.
I hurriedly finish the meal - my favorite - and rush to leave, unable to bear my guilt and pain any longer.
But as I get up you reach for my hand, squeeze it gently, and let me go.
I retreat to the shower, hoping to at least get the smell of my lover out of my hair, my skin, my soul.
I look up from brushing my hair to see you in the doorway, watching me.
For the first time since I arrived our eyes meet; and yes - the love I have always known is still there.
You walk over and wrap your arms around me. You simply whisper 'I love you, my wife, my beautiful bride.'
My tears, my broken spirit, my weakened body say more in that moment than a simple 'I'm sorry,', no matter how sincere and genuine they would be.
There will be time enough for that later, but for now, I collapse into the arms of a fool, who, with all I have done to him, still loves me like the day we were married.
©Kristen Garcia 7/2010
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Token of My Love
A lover far away with only a promise of 'soon' to when you'll actually be in their arms again.
Words from them you replay over and over again in your mind that bring a smile to your face.
A voice who's melody reaches into the crevices of your soul when time is found to enter into such conversations.
Their spirit you can feel from far away, through their words and their mere voice and it eases the pain of not being close enough to feel their true touch.
And then, one day a letter appears - a token of the lover's affection. Something you can hold that they held. Something that bears a mark that only they can place on an object. A piece of them you can put near your heart and in a moment, feel their embrace once more.
The preciousness of that object to the one who receives it is immeasurable. It is something they will never let go of. They will cling to it with all they have as it is the one thing from their lover that imparts a piece of their heart to their beloved - never to be released from their grip.
Whether a letter, a picture, a small token of any kind - the presence of the lover is still imparted. And for a moment, all the distance that physically separates two spirits is erased and an embrace across time and space is created.
Take and eat - this is my Body.
Take and drink - this is my Blood.
An embrace across time and space to my Beloved where all of Heaven and Hell and Earth can be erased for a moment and you can feel My embrace once more.
Soon. I Am coming to you soon, my love.
©Kristen Garcia 12/29/2011
Words from them you replay over and over again in your mind that bring a smile to your face.
A voice who's melody reaches into the crevices of your soul when time is found to enter into such conversations.
Their spirit you can feel from far away, through their words and their mere voice and it eases the pain of not being close enough to feel their true touch.
And then, one day a letter appears - a token of the lover's affection. Something you can hold that they held. Something that bears a mark that only they can place on an object. A piece of them you can put near your heart and in a moment, feel their embrace once more.
The preciousness of that object to the one who receives it is immeasurable. It is something they will never let go of. They will cling to it with all they have as it is the one thing from their lover that imparts a piece of their heart to their beloved - never to be released from their grip.
Whether a letter, a picture, a small token of any kind - the presence of the lover is still imparted. And for a moment, all the distance that physically separates two spirits is erased and an embrace across time and space is created.
Take and eat - this is my Body.
Take and drink - this is my Blood.
An embrace across time and space to my Beloved where all of Heaven and Hell and Earth can be erased for a moment and you can feel My embrace once more.
Soon. I Am coming to you soon, my love.
©Kristen Garcia 12/29/2011
Thursday, September 8, 2011
A Skyline Drive
Toss me the keys.
Sit back and relax. Look all around you.
See that? How about that?
Look at all the beauty around you that you missed because you were too busy looking at the road ahead - hairpin turns, looking out for obstacles. So much beauty you didn't get to take in the first time around.
So busy keeping watch that you never got to enjoy the views and the simple, precious world around you.
Too focused to let go and let it surround you.
All that energy exerted until you couldn't see the forest from the trees.
Take a deep breath. Don't look forward at the curves in the road ahead. I know the road well.
Just breathe. Find the beginnings of comfort as I worry about the winding road ahead.
Close your eyes. Take a moment to let go of your anxiety - of your death grip of control. I won't let anything happen - you're safe when you're with me. Simply enjoy the places I will take us.
Maybe even rest enough - trust me enough - to maybe, just maybe, get a wink of sleep while I take us for a ride. Can you trust me enough for that?
Refresh. Restore. Let go. Breathe in deep. Soak in the beauty - let it move in your heart.
Will you let me drive?
Toss me the keys.
©Kristen Garcia 9/8/2011
Sit back and relax. Look all around you.
See that? How about that?
Look at all the beauty around you that you missed because you were too busy looking at the road ahead - hairpin turns, looking out for obstacles. So much beauty you didn't get to take in the first time around.
So busy keeping watch that you never got to enjoy the views and the simple, precious world around you.
Too focused to let go and let it surround you.
All that energy exerted until you couldn't see the forest from the trees.
Take a deep breath. Don't look forward at the curves in the road ahead. I know the road well.
Just breathe. Find the beginnings of comfort as I worry about the winding road ahead.
Close your eyes. Take a moment to let go of your anxiety - of your death grip of control. I won't let anything happen - you're safe when you're with me. Simply enjoy the places I will take us.
Maybe even rest enough - trust me enough - to maybe, just maybe, get a wink of sleep while I take us for a ride. Can you trust me enough for that?
Refresh. Restore. Let go. Breathe in deep. Soak in the beauty - let it move in your heart.
Will you let me drive?
Toss me the keys.
©Kristen Garcia 9/8/2011
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Perspecitve
It has only been a week, but it feels like a month, where I ended up with an insane Friday to round off a pretty long and heart wrenching couple of weeks.
Work. Love. Life. Intertwined in a way that sometimes simply doesn't make sense. And then there are those moments when it all does where the 'AH HA!' kicks in but doesn't necessarily lead to any materializing results.
Such was this Friday. I was able to get a bit of perspective, even if it did open up some wounds.
My previous position at the State was one that was the perfect marriage of my biology and media interests that could satisfy the continually twisted thinking of my mind. It was also one of great responsibility. And this is the source of my perspective.
At this job I was a resource for the Northern third of Indiana. There are approximately 1 Million people in this part of the state. I had the revelation early on in this job that every one of their lives were in my hands depending on the situation - H1N1, a major/wide-spread BT attack or zoonotic illness, etc.
But even in the more limited emergencies I was called in to give advice or assist in the response because peoples' lives were at risk - sometimes a few, sometimes several thousand - but nevertheless, if I did not do my job correctly people could get ill - or worse die.
I was asked one time by an old Resident Director from Huntington after a crazy meeting regarding pandemic influenza planning how I slept at night and I joked - lots of hard liquor. But in reality, I slept fine. I knew I was good at my job and had good people above me to use as resources. I knew I could do my job well.
Then last Friday. I ended up staying late to put out a ton of fires - only one was really a true 'fire' - and I realized that I've gone from my fires being of the level of people getting sick or dying to having to stay late to bitch with an agency about $5-$10 on the price of a commercial.
BITTER. PILL.
That was an eye opener and a bit of a heart breaker.
I know this is a time of transition - possibly a time of 'rest'. But that still doesn't remove the ache in my heart for the kind of position with similar responsibilities, duties and weight.
It will come and my dreams won't die. It's the time in between where endurance and character are built.
Happy Saturday. Monday will be here soon enough.
La. Sra.
Work. Love. Life. Intertwined in a way that sometimes simply doesn't make sense. And then there are those moments when it all does where the 'AH HA!' kicks in but doesn't necessarily lead to any materializing results.
Such was this Friday. I was able to get a bit of perspective, even if it did open up some wounds.
My previous position at the State was one that was the perfect marriage of my biology and media interests that could satisfy the continually twisted thinking of my mind. It was also one of great responsibility. And this is the source of my perspective.
At this job I was a resource for the Northern third of Indiana. There are approximately 1 Million people in this part of the state. I had the revelation early on in this job that every one of their lives were in my hands depending on the situation - H1N1, a major/wide-spread BT attack or zoonotic illness, etc.
But even in the more limited emergencies I was called in to give advice or assist in the response because peoples' lives were at risk - sometimes a few, sometimes several thousand - but nevertheless, if I did not do my job correctly people could get ill - or worse die.
I was asked one time by an old Resident Director from Huntington after a crazy meeting regarding pandemic influenza planning how I slept at night and I joked - lots of hard liquor. But in reality, I slept fine. I knew I was good at my job and had good people above me to use as resources. I knew I could do my job well.
Then last Friday. I ended up staying late to put out a ton of fires - only one was really a true 'fire' - and I realized that I've gone from my fires being of the level of people getting sick or dying to having to stay late to bitch with an agency about $5-$10 on the price of a commercial.
BITTER. PILL.
That was an eye opener and a bit of a heart breaker.
I know this is a time of transition - possibly a time of 'rest'. But that still doesn't remove the ache in my heart for the kind of position with similar responsibilities, duties and weight.
It will come and my dreams won't die. It's the time in between where endurance and character are built.
Happy Saturday. Monday will be here soon enough.
La. Sra.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Transition
Rest.
What is that, really?
Can you have rest and be restless at the same time?
I'm in the midst of finding out. As much as I stand on solid rock I feel like its under a layer of sand. Little by little the sand keeps washing away and then piling back up again.
Every time I think I see a glimpse of the bedrock another wave comes and brings a new layer of sand.
There is so much more than this. I've seen it. I've tasted it. And in the blink of an eye its past my vision once again.
Provision is given, but so much more is promised. Scraping by has been my portion for far too long.
I'm sick of living in a way that chains me to things I hate, even if it is approved for me in this season. I know the lock is about to be blown away so I can flee and never look back and every day that its not frustrates me even more.
I lay down at night and take a deep breath, knowing with the next daybreak comes a life full of circular activities. The same route exercises leading to little joy and even less happiness. To lack an excitement for the beauty of a sunrise is not something I thought I'd ever know. As breathtaking as it is, the refreshment is quickly drained.
And yet, under all the sand is bedrock that will never be shaken. There is rest in that. Rest that the bills are taken care of. Rest that we are safe, healthy, and still laugh at the silliest of made up knock-knock jokes and eyes filled with mischief. Rest that even through the coming heartache and celebrations all provision shall be made.
But something has to shift - and soon. A dream - many dreams - deferred causes the heart to weaken. The Promises are on their way, faith and hope keep the dreams on life support, but also make the spirit groan and ache for their manifestation. When will 'more' become reality?
Rest mixed with restlessness. Its by far the shittiest place to be. I don't do it well. The last time I was here I had a driving force - a pitbull spirit that like an old, comfy pair of jeans, fit back on me perfectly and devoured many times the restlessness I did have.
I don't have that this time. These are new waters and I'm not learning to swim quick enough and its consuming my soul. I hate these trials. I'm not going to lie. Too many things being shaken and tossed at one time - and in a moment, a reminder from the Holy Spirit - God is shaking all that can be shaken - and its funny how that brings a wry smirk to my face.
Revelation. Wisdom. Understanding. The lifeblood and foundation for all things. The single element that brings peace - and with peace rest becomes possible. Maybe getting tossed in the water isn't such a bad thing after all. It wouldn't be the first - or third - time I've been told if you don't keep going you WILL die.
Things to learn. Processes not to forsake and hate. There is a purpose to the route madness, even if it is to minister to someone later. Maybe tomorrow won't be so agonizing after all.
And on that note - Now I lay me down to sleep - a rest in the Arms that hold me every night and place me in earshot of the Heartbeat that lulls my mind - my spirit - my body - to a Promised Rest.
La. Sra.
What is that, really?
Can you have rest and be restless at the same time?
I'm in the midst of finding out. As much as I stand on solid rock I feel like its under a layer of sand. Little by little the sand keeps washing away and then piling back up again.
Every time I think I see a glimpse of the bedrock another wave comes and brings a new layer of sand.
There is so much more than this. I've seen it. I've tasted it. And in the blink of an eye its past my vision once again.
Provision is given, but so much more is promised. Scraping by has been my portion for far too long.
I'm sick of living in a way that chains me to things I hate, even if it is approved for me in this season. I know the lock is about to be blown away so I can flee and never look back and every day that its not frustrates me even more.
I lay down at night and take a deep breath, knowing with the next daybreak comes a life full of circular activities. The same route exercises leading to little joy and even less happiness. To lack an excitement for the beauty of a sunrise is not something I thought I'd ever know. As breathtaking as it is, the refreshment is quickly drained.
And yet, under all the sand is bedrock that will never be shaken. There is rest in that. Rest that the bills are taken care of. Rest that we are safe, healthy, and still laugh at the silliest of made up knock-knock jokes and eyes filled with mischief. Rest that even through the coming heartache and celebrations all provision shall be made.
But something has to shift - and soon. A dream - many dreams - deferred causes the heart to weaken. The Promises are on their way, faith and hope keep the dreams on life support, but also make the spirit groan and ache for their manifestation. When will 'more' become reality?
Rest mixed with restlessness. Its by far the shittiest place to be. I don't do it well. The last time I was here I had a driving force - a pitbull spirit that like an old, comfy pair of jeans, fit back on me perfectly and devoured many times the restlessness I did have.
I don't have that this time. These are new waters and I'm not learning to swim quick enough and its consuming my soul. I hate these trials. I'm not going to lie. Too many things being shaken and tossed at one time - and in a moment, a reminder from the Holy Spirit - God is shaking all that can be shaken - and its funny how that brings a wry smirk to my face.
Revelation. Wisdom. Understanding. The lifeblood and foundation for all things. The single element that brings peace - and with peace rest becomes possible. Maybe getting tossed in the water isn't such a bad thing after all. It wouldn't be the first - or third - time I've been told if you don't keep going you WILL die.
Things to learn. Processes not to forsake and hate. There is a purpose to the route madness, even if it is to minister to someone later. Maybe tomorrow won't be so agonizing after all.
And on that note - Now I lay me down to sleep - a rest in the Arms that hold me every night and place me in earshot of the Heartbeat that lulls my mind - my spirit - my body - to a Promised Rest.
La. Sra.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Baptize the Blaze
The older I get the more beautiful I become.
The fires and snares meant to scar have only refined away the layers that hid the life beneath.
Old is torn away and the new is smooth as river rock tossed by the waves for decades.
The softening of wisdom, the quickening of response, the warmth of a heart rebuilt.
Dreams that were forgotten - for the pain of hoping for them was too much to bear - renewed with a fire in an instant.
Tears of a wrenched heart baptize the blaze but never again shall the fire go out.
Incense dances up, filling the air with the lingering reminder of the promises made that remain ahead.
Nearly transformed - barely an image of the life before - unrecognizable to the things in the past. Changed in such a way that the chains from the old can no longer cling.
Days ahead of pain and joy, laughter and hurt, dancing and love.
Every tear; Every shattered piece of heart; every cry of deep-welled emotion - they lay the cobblestones to road that ends in peace - to dreams made real.
©Kristen Garcia 6/2011
The fires and snares meant to scar have only refined away the layers that hid the life beneath.
Old is torn away and the new is smooth as river rock tossed by the waves for decades.
The softening of wisdom, the quickening of response, the warmth of a heart rebuilt.
Dreams that were forgotten - for the pain of hoping for them was too much to bear - renewed with a fire in an instant.
Tears of a wrenched heart baptize the blaze but never again shall the fire go out.
Incense dances up, filling the air with the lingering reminder of the promises made that remain ahead.
Nearly transformed - barely an image of the life before - unrecognizable to the things in the past. Changed in such a way that the chains from the old can no longer cling.
Days ahead of pain and joy, laughter and hurt, dancing and love.
Every tear; Every shattered piece of heart; every cry of deep-welled emotion - they lay the cobblestones to road that ends in peace - to dreams made real.
©Kristen Garcia 6/2011
Friday, May 27, 2011
To You
It is in the smallest of moments that our real selves are revealed.
When the truest things of a heart become fodder for ridicule by those who claim to love you it eases the pain of walking away. Sometimes you don't look back - and that's OK.
To stand alone is greater than walking exposed in a masquerade. To walk alone better than trying to associate with those who are found in the off-guard moments to be untrue.
Cling to dreams, no matter how small - no matter how elaborate. Hope is not in vain, dreams are not energy wasted.
Know who loves you; know who truly doesn't. Remember that truth, when revealed, brings joy in the midst of pain - in the midst of sorrow - in the midst of loneliness - even if it doesn't erase.
Reach out to those who say they love you - but if invitations fail to be received keep on going. If they are true to you they know how to find you.
If they know you the way they say they do they will pursue the blessings they have from the time with you. Therein lies a test of faithfulness.
Allow yourself to be pursued. The one who sees the treasure you are will stop at nothing to attain it. Make them work for you, but do not frustrate them unless necessary.
Do not lose heart. Walk with your head held high. Kick the enemy's ass. Never lose the brightness in your eyes.
©Kristen Garcia 5/2011
When the truest things of a heart become fodder for ridicule by those who claim to love you it eases the pain of walking away. Sometimes you don't look back - and that's OK.
To stand alone is greater than walking exposed in a masquerade. To walk alone better than trying to associate with those who are found in the off-guard moments to be untrue.
Cling to dreams, no matter how small - no matter how elaborate. Hope is not in vain, dreams are not energy wasted.
Know who loves you; know who truly doesn't. Remember that truth, when revealed, brings joy in the midst of pain - in the midst of sorrow - in the midst of loneliness - even if it doesn't erase.
Reach out to those who say they love you - but if invitations fail to be received keep on going. If they are true to you they know how to find you.
If they know you the way they say they do they will pursue the blessings they have from the time with you. Therein lies a test of faithfulness.
Allow yourself to be pursued. The one who sees the treasure you are will stop at nothing to attain it. Make them work for you, but do not frustrate them unless necessary.
Do not lose heart. Walk with your head held high. Kick the enemy's ass. Never lose the brightness in your eyes.
©Kristen Garcia 5/2011
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