Multidimensional

Multidimensional

 One light beam represents,
one life,
one event,
one moment.

The prism represents,
the eyes of God.

One light beam is merely a light beam,
the prism is deeply underestimated.

If you shine the light beam,
through that mere prism,
you will see an astounding rainbow.

If you see your life,
through the eyes of God,
an event is not just an event,
but a multidimensional soul,
beaming to all the corners of the universe.

 

Stargazing

Stargazing

Unsuspected,
You pray with me,
and a bird flies off,
to the horizon.

The world is so small,
when seen from above.
The distance indistinctly,
displays what really matters –
the volcano erupts,
at the correct time.

The lines in Your hands,
like roads on a map,
allows the future,
to sketch its course.
But Your hands,
like erasers,
decide the journey.

Stargazing,
is like falling asleep,
in a distant dreamland,
where you forget the world,
to find a new one.

Reality is only as real,
as you make it yourself,
and a prayer,
can only reach Heaven,
when you want it to.

Adoption

On the Dutch television is a program about adoption. In this program a team searches for the biological family of someone who is adopted. It has been on the TV for many years. I remember watching it as a teenager with my mom and my brother and it is still airing today. It has always been a fascinating show to me. The reunions are often so emotional and it happens so often that the story about why someone has been adopted is slightly different from what the adopted child has been told.

One morning, about two years ago, I sat down to write a poem. As I sat down, images from this television program flashed in front of my eyes like a vision. The poem God gave me that day gave me a completely different view on the adoption process itself. God allowed me to understand adoption from the biological mother’s point of view. Keeping in mind that not all biological mothers feel this, I do believe that the majority does.

So often adoption is only seen from the point of view from the parents who are adopting a child or the adopted child itself, but never from the point of view of that woman who had to give up her child for whatever reason she had. As a child grows in a mother’s womb, the bond between mother and child is already developed. When the child is born the bond is already established. So giving up a child that you are already connected to so deeply is extremely difficult.

One thing, that is very important to mention, is that I have never had children myself, I am not adopted and I have never had any experience with this whatsoever. So there is no way I can know all this. I only know it because God showed me. All the glory is for God alone because this is His work, not mine!

Adoption

The blue ocean slips through my hands,
after it has pierced my soul with love.
Vigorous brown trees give strength,
but they take my tears back to the clouds,
preventing the rain to fall down,
on my fragile empty hands.

For a while we shared a home,
in the hands of Him who gave us life.
The synchronic beatings of the drums,
changed my heart into a vortex,
where negative surroundings are washed away,
changing into positivity and hope,
until reality sets in and our home is destroyed.

Homeless my heart dwells in a valley,
longing for the rain to fall down,
until it washes away the waves of my last breath.
It has slipped through my hands,
smothered by life I am forced to move on,
and my empty hands show my empty heart.

All I wanted to hear was your smile,
but silence is my daily companion.
All I wanted was to see you walk,
but the road only carries me.
All I wanted was to hear, “I love you”,
but the deafening silence chokes me.
All I wanted was for you to grow up,
so I handed you over to be adopted.

 

 

 

Clarity

Clarity

 Millions of Multi-colored ribbons,
I gently hang them in the acorn tree,
where they blow joyfully in the wind,
celebrating life, birth and growth.

 As the peaceful green compliments the truthful white,
the trustworthy pink rejoices with the friendly yellow,
red passionately loves through the mindful blue,
but the spiritual purple holds them all together.
One cannot exist without the other,
their harmonious display creates a unity,
only the heavens are aware of.

 Through all the seasons of life,
the million multi-colored ribbons fight,
but only cooperation brings victory.

 The night sets in and I enkindle My lantern,
hoping that the illumination brings clarity.
As I watch the ribbons fight in the wind,
My children take me by the hand to encourage me.
Therefore giving each of them a lantern,
I help them put the lanterns in the tree,
so My light expels the darkness,
togetherness will bring unity,
and cooperation establishes peace.

 All I hope that they will see…is Me!

Trust

Trust

Trust is letting go,
when all you want to do,
is to hold tight.

Like sinking sand,
trust tells you to stand still,
when life swallows you up.

When fear is driving you mad,
trust forces you to remain calm.

In the tornado of emotions,
the eye of the storm is at the center.
It is the only place of silence,
where love clears the mind  from tensions.

When questions exasperate you,
answer will not satisfy your soul.

Like a bird,
jumping from one branch to another,
your mind,
skips from thought to thought,
longing for answers.

Trust is letting go,
when all you want to do,
is to hold tight!

Trust

 

 

 

 

Unwanted

Unwanted

Cubes,
like pyramids,
form an obstacle,
I cannot avoid.
Invisible,
like spotless glass,
only the mind,
can observe them.

Is it a trick?
a leftover mirage,
from a distant past?

Unknown,
is an untold story.
Unaware,
is the forgotten fragment,
of its life.
But who can find,
the unwanted?

Climbed,
are the steep hills,
of all my options.
Walked,
is the road,
that laid ahead.
Unseen,
are the solutions,
still in sight.

If the unwanted,
becomes wanted.
How do I find,
the final possibility?

 

With Gentle Force

Finding my purpose in life seemed so easy. Jesus simply told me what to do when I was five years old (see previous blogs) and all I had to do was to execute the plan. But it was not that simple! 

Let’s be honest, I am not a bible teacher – nor any other kind of teacher – and I am not a fictional writer either. My speaking abilities leave to wishes – I couldn’t hold my first speech at age 7 and I unfortunately never progressed either – but I am great with one on one conversations though. I never went to a bible school nor a theological school or study of any kind. In fact I didn’t even want to be a poet, I wanted to be a nurse. Yes I received dreams and visions, my abilities to communicate with God were highly developed but I didn’t see myself as a disciple of any sort. So when it was time to chose my future after middle/high school, I chose Health Care. Helping people and taking care of them had a more charming appeal on me than writing poetry ever did. I finished my study and got a job very quickly but then it happened. I got diagnosed with fybromyagia and was advised to stop working in that field. 

After trying another study, a job at a local supermarket and two jobs in administration, I got very discouraged. What in the world was I supposed to do except for writing? You see, writing was not an option. I wanted to be a “normal” girl. I had no intentions of standing out or being viscible. None whatsoever. I just wanted to live my life in peace and quiet with my family and some friends and that’s it. But God still had a plan with me. Regardless of whether I wanted it or not, God had His mind set on His plan for my life. He directed every step in such a gentle way that one could easily call it; coincedence. At the age of 25 I finally, reluctantly, agreed to pick up on writing again. As soon as I did, a fire of passion entered my heart as I never felt it before. This really was what I was supposed to do. 

Even when I finally agreed to do God’s will, my battle wasn’t over yet. I still wasn’t convinced that I was up for the job. I cannot tell you how many times, I begged God to pick someone else. Someone better than me with more skills. And still God gently nudged me in the direction of writing. 

In fact He still does. I am still not 100% convinced of my calling but writing makes me so happy. I still doubt because I still don’t get anything back for it. I know that I am a good writer but it doesn’t put food on the table so I doubt. I doubt and look for other ways. But that little fire in my heart still burns too bright. God’s will is still stronger than my own. So I still continue this journey. The poem “Gentle Force” is about these struggles. The fight of finding your purpose and holding on during that journey. It is so easy to give up. Giving up is the broad road, the easy way out. But to keep going and not giving up is the small path. And it is that small path that will bring you much further in life. 

Gentle force.

Love shows directions,
but my feet weakly stumble.
The bird shows the way,
if only I would follow him.
Light shows the path,
but my eyes are searching for another.
At the crossroad of life,
I wonder when I lost my way,
and ignoring the signals,
my soul loses its destination.

Love shows directions,
in the lost signals.
The bird waits for its time.
The light waits for its cue.

When I least expect it,
wings of light touch me,
pushing me in the right direction.
When I least expect it,
Your light opens my eyes,
to see the signs in front of me.
When I least expect it,
You plant a seed deep in my heart,
growing me in Your light.  

Directions are found,
in the signs of love,
where it guides you,
with gentle force. 


Music of the flute

Music of the flute

 The clear silver frame,
holds an unexpected beauty,
of a multidimensional sound.
A sound of multiple emotions.
Where tears and laughter,
walk hand in hand.

My fingers swiftly move across the keys,
fusing my heart with each unique melody.

 The baby sleeps on the soft, gentle sounds,
where joy dances on the cheerful tunes,
and tears are shed in moving ballads.
Every fiber of my heart feels the chords,
and the music makes me fall in love.

 Is life without music a possibility?
Even in the silence the heart plays,
uncountable melodies of the soul.
Nature also breaths the fresh air of music,
in the birds, trees, wind and mammals.
If music is the air we breathe,
how can we breathe without music?

 The butterflies fiddle the violin,
the birds whistle the melodic flute,
the elephants beat the strong drums,
the bees buzz the elegant cello,
while the kitten walks the piano keys.

Music is the air I breathe.
In the songs that I sing,
In the sounds I play on the flute,
and the melody the piano gives me.
Where music is made,
knowledge fades,
and the heart speaks.

In my hand is the silver frame,
and my heart sings,
uncountable different melodies.
My hands swiftly move across the keys,
embracing the ever-changing sound.

My heart is a flute,
and I play it vividly.

DSC_2612 

Inside the box

In my life I have always felt that I was different. I felt as if things were never the same for me as they were for others. As a child I tried to blend in and as a teenager even more so. I never had the courage to stand out because I was afraid. Afraid that people would get angry at me. Especially as a teenager I was often excluded, laughed at and at times intimidated. Not just by my peers by also by adults. Trust me when I say, there are certain things that you will never forget.

So out of fear of being excluded, laughed at or hated, I would simply try to blend in. Even when this was not in line with what God would ask from me. God asked me to be a writer – a poet –  but for a long time, I would refuse. Even today I still have moments where I want to give up. These moments are often when people talk behind my back in a negative way and I hear all about it, or when people question me face-to-face. People can be quite convincing. And often I understand their point of view. But then there is God asking something different from me and I get confused about what to do. I remember this one time, when I told my mom: “Life is a battle where it is me and God against the world”. Luckily my mother often listened to me and she would support me in every way that she could. I could really tell her everything because I knew she loved me and I trusted her.

Yet many people are not like my mom. Many people talk behind my back and it is not positive. The prejudices and opinions they have about me are based upon their own insecurity. But still it hurts. Life for me is like living between two fires. The fire of God and the fire of evil. And it is a tough battle.

Still the fire of God is greater. My passion to do God’s will still exceeds everything else. For as long as I can remember I had only one ambition in life; to bring a smile to my Fathers face. And with my Father, I mean God the Father. If I could just put a smile on His face, I would have done the best job that I could possible do. In one of my dreams God said: “the only way that leads to eternity is the small way”. So even if it is difficult to do what God asks you to do, don’t give up. With God everything is possible and God will never leave what He once started. It is better to have faith in God than in people!

Today I wrote a poem about this. It is a poem about my story. I have a huge passion for God the Father, for Jesus and for the Holy Spirit. My love for God makes my heart burst, but so many have tried to stop me through the years. I may be a woman, I may have never been to a prominent bible school or theological study, I may not life up to people’s expectations but I know – with a 100% certainty – that God is greater than my circumstances. God loves me and He will make a way where there is no way. And if you are in the same situation as me? If you feel the same way? Than please know that God is almighty! He loves you! He can and will do amazing things in your life, that may seem impossible. Do not give up! Never! Think outside the box!

Inside the box

Inside the box,
the noose around my neck tightens.
Trying to settle in,
the small nook is too cramped,
and all I want to do,
is to leave this small space.

All eyes tell a different story,
but when they look at me,
all their stories are the same.
Stuck in prejudices and opinions,
war is either neglect,
or fight back.
Who will love me as I am?

Traditions are for keeping,
but not if they suffocate the soul.
When everything is the same,
we are in desperate need of change.
Evolving is teaching yourself to be better,
learning is allowing yourself to grow,
for growth is a never-ending story.

Inside the box,
where I am unable to grow,
I look out into infinity,
where God asks me to live,
in His divine library,
where His great wisdom,
will lead me to eternity.