Life never is finished.
It’s not a burger flipped.
It’s not an 8 to 5—
Punch in and out.
There always will be more—
Another dish to wash,
Another floor to mop,
Another meal to cook,
Another conversation to have,
Another person who needs the time
(Certainly more than you do).
Another people with
Different thoughts, ideas, whims.
It will always be a tug of war
When you are near strong people
—Fascinating people—
You need to realize
That your vision is valuable too.
Don’t get trampled
Or pushed off the edge.
Someone else will always say
You’re doing the wrong thing.
You could do it differently—better!
People will always imply that
Their needs are more important now—
They’ll only take a few minutes.
But minutes turn to hours
Turn to days and months.
The years spin by, faster and faster.
Soon they’re swimming out of control
And you’re dizzy with panic—
Pushing and squeezing,
Throbbing—thunk, thunk, thunk—
Inside your skull.
You can’t turn time back,
But you can stop the pattern—
Right now.
You can stop and say:
I need time.
I need a fair share.
I need to step back
And focus on this for now.
I’ve focused on you;
I’m sure you’ll understand.
Many won’t see the importance,
Or comprehend
Why you want this route.
They may try to sink your ship
Or nudge you towards
A different course—
More interesting,
More profitable—
More closely connected to their own success.
They have it all planned out,
And explain it all
In most eloquent words
Or stab you with a
Fine!-Dig-Your-Own-Grave eye roll
Just as you’re feeling unsure of yourself
And you’ll feel pressure to agree,
To help for a while,
It might even be welcome
To have guidance—
Someone else to take the wheel
Just for a stretch—
But are you prepared for the exchange?
Life will be easier,
But mean less.
You’ll end up somewhere,
But not on your map.
That can be good,
But ultimately, it’s your choice.
When you know where you need to go,
Be mindful as you buy your ticket.
Tag: life
To the One Who Feels Pressure to Fill Others
Be mindful of who you keep near you.
There are voices that lead you off course.
Supporting is not always loving.
There are times it can hurt more than cure.
Don’t pour yourself out without refill,
Or give when you’ve nothing to spare.
Dole out love from a place of abundance,
Not by force when you’re withered and bare.
Don’t feel like a flop when you’re honest
And you say you require extra space.
Set a line when you see that you need it.
Be aware when it’s time to escape.
You have value; don’t ever forget it.
You aren’t put here to serve people’s whims.
You don’t live so that others can be lazy.
You don’t work just to make their lives gleam.
You cannot make someone else happy
Who is not content with his life.
A puppeteer always is needy.
You, as puppet, just won’t set that right.
For once, give your own gifts the runway.
Be bold and be strong—simply try.
When you strengthen and then you gain liftoff,
Don’t hold yourself back, girl, just fly!
To the One Who Tries and Fails
It is dismal to sit
In the darkness.
In this place
There is nothing but tears.
All you hear is in
Whispers and mumbles
And your brain is
A knotted up sphere.
The words that you speak
Work against you.
The plans that you make
Come to naught.
The hopes that you have
Weigh down others.
And your helping hand
Sinks those you love.
In this place there is
Reason for sorrow,
But nights aren’t
As dark as they seem.
Hold fast to the Light
And a path will appear,
That is beautiful
Steadfast and true.
To the Young One Worried About Appearances
There’s not a particular look
You should chase.
Not one certain body,
Or one certain face.
As you age and you grow
You’ll soon start to see—
Our appeal comes from
Uniqueness, variety.
The thing you should ponder
More deeply, is health.
What you’re pouring inside
Is your long-term wealth.
Feed yourself real food,
Raw milk, butter, and cheese.
Clean, simple ingredients;
That’s what you need.
Raise vegetables, mill flour,
Make sourdough bread,
Eat eggs, and I’m certain
You’ll then get ahead.
Your body will be beautiful
Your mind will grow strong.
As it turns out, it’s health
You craved all along.
To the One Trapped in Jealousy
Jealousy is like a sore
That when you pick
Just festers more.
A simple way to break away
Is still your mind
Then calmly say:
I will not talk about these things
They’ve nothing more
Than hate to bring.
Help never comes through ugly thoughts
Through brokenness,
Polluted taunts.
In bitter views I will not die
Trapped in a maze
With all your lies.
I will not keep your company
I’ve learned, and now
I will break free.
Truth is, the things we like to feed
Are what grow strong
And are what breed.
I choose to be content and live
With thanks and joy
For what life gives.
To the One Making Excuses
Have you ever considered this?
You might be the one
Standing in your own way.
Maybe all of the things
You want most in life:
The friendships, the goals,
The fulfillment you chase,
Are behind that one door
That you’re afraid to open.
The knock you’re afraid to answer.
You have all sorts of thoughts,
Supposedly smart,
About people you’ve met before
Who come from there.
They are fake, unfriendly, shallow.
But those people aren’t Him.
And you know it.
You’ve thought about this.
I know you have.
You think too much
And act too little.
It’s like you’re on a train.
You sit and think and think
about whether or not
this is your stop,
until the door is closed
and that station is passed.
Then you think about regret,
Think so much
About the last station—
What could have been—
That you miss your next chance.
Change the order.
For once in your life,
Just get up and go.
Step off the train,
Even if you aren’t ready.
Step out on the platform,
Even if you aren’t sure
What you’ll do when you get there.
The what ifs
Are more dangerous
Than the what is.
And don’t get tangled up
In those what abouts…
What about people who
Might ruin their lives
By using this advice?
What about someone
Who might misunderstand,
Do something stupid with it?
What about them?
They aren’t in this conversation.
You don’t speak for them.
And, by the way,
You’re making an excuse—
Don’t huff and puff;
You know it’s true!
You have a place to be
And you’re wasting something
You’ll never get back—time.
To the Little Girl Who Watered the Tiny Flowers
You’re such a little thing. Three? Four?
Couldn’t be more. And you notice the flowers.
Itty-bitty, no bigger than a thumbnail,
Growing hidden in the grass.
In a flash, you have a plan.
Mother’s Day is coming,
And Mom loves flowers.
She’d like some for her vase—
She’s always talking about it.
You know something about plants—
You’ve learn so much lately.
Plants grow when they get water,
Of that, you are certain.
So you go to the kitchen sink,
Stand on the step stool,
Fill a glass and carry it outside.
You select a specific patch
And you water it—
Over and over,
Glass after glass.
When Mom asks,
You say it’s a surprise.
You know this is going to work.
When Mother’s Day comes,
Those flowers will be big.
They’ll fill the vase with beautiful blooms.
But the flowers don’t grow.
…
I’m here to tell you
Your plan wasn’t a failure.
You learned something that day:
Just because you want a thing to happen,
Because you think it should happen,
Doesn’t mean it can or will or should.
You may look back over the years
And laugh at that tiny dreamer,
But please don’t stop;
Believe the impossible.
Your hope is beautiful, little girl.
Things won’t always bloom,
You learned that early,
But hope has a way
Of making miracles happen—
Not always,
But sometimes.
And as as you grow, you’ll realize
That now and then
Is plenty often
For a miracle.
Angela M. Adams
To the Young One Afraid to Make Mistakes
We all have weaknesses,
So freely acknowledge your flaws.
And guess what? You’re going to shatter some china.
Over time, lots. And that’s okay.
Be able to admit your mistakes,
But don’t just plop down there,
Wallowing in regret.
Get up. Ask for forgiveness.
Forgive yourself, too.
And forgive others who had a hand in your fall.
It’ll take courage, but I hope you come to learn this:
We cannot survive together while keeping score.
We cannot survive, either, keeping score against ourselves.
Of course, you know this isn’t free rein
To do things you shouldn’t—
Any little thing you want,
To fall into weakness,
Or laziness,
To make every thoughtless mistake,
To hurt other people
And elevate yourself,
To avoid consequences—
Certainly not.
But I know you;
You won’t dwell there;
You heard that part loud and clear.
What you need is Confidence.
Confidence is respecting others and yourself,
Knowing you both have great value (yes, you too).
Confidence is bravely setting your boundaries,
And standing firm when they are challenged by crooks.
Confidence is being thoughtful and wise,
Then making clear choices without dodging shards of guilt.
Confidence is allowing yourself healthy emotions,
Not canning them to meet others’ expectation.
Confidence is being honest and kind:
In how you think; in how you live; in how you treat yourself.
Confidence is embracing you calling,
even when you aren’t good at it…yet.
Don’t skim over this!
Don’t shelve it,
Saying you’ll come back later—
When you’re better prepared,
More mature.
You’ll come back—
When you have time to do it justice.
You won’t.
Dig in now.
Let it really sink in. Digest it.
Practice. Give yourself grace. Practice more.
Believe me, you won’t regret it.
Learn this one, and you’ll really go places.
To the Girl Stuck in Place
The answer is easy.
But it’s hard to let go
Of all that is me,
Of all that I know.
It hurts to release
All the pride that I’ve built,
And I’m oddly at home
In the poisonous guilt.
I’m programmed to stay
In that perilous place;
Just a drink from the cup
And my senses erase.
I sip at fear and envy,
Edge life with black and green,
And settle in to ruminate—
My usual routine.
The place leaves me mired,
And spinning my wheels
Stuck in mud, smeared in grime,
Wrapped in witless appeals.
But I don’t have to stay here,
Though worn the rut may be.
I was wrong, Lord, come help me!
Will You please and set me free?
To the Girl Who Doesn’t Easily Make Friends
“You’re full of foolish thoughts, you know,
Some too fast, some too slow,
Some too shallow, some too deep.
Read the room.
You’re so…unique.”
“Why can’t you talk like all the others?
Dress like them? Why don’t you bother
Fitting in? I think you could, it’s true.
But you’re so different.
You’re so…you.”
Child, don’t heed the voices;
The right friends will come along.
They won’t be assigned, like a locker at school,
They’ll be sewn to your soul.
You don’t just…choose.
Angela Writes... 