Yesterday I felt like my writting had hit a snag, okay, okay a slump. What- ever this is, I know can write my way out. God always makes a way out. Now that ‘s not to say, there isn’t spilled milk or crying, going-on over here. I’ve done plenty. As the old saying goes, no need crying over spilled milk. I guess the writer forgot to add, when there is spillage and honey there will be spillage.
Nobody knows how far the spill spreads, a little here, a little there. Feels like I’m swimming around in it. One small drip into a thousand more, cascades off the light pink-brown table down onto the brown rustic wooden legs seeping into kitchen cracks. I’m running around looking for a clean dish rag. Why? I don’t know why?
I know this makes no sense but that’s just the way life is. There’s the car that won’t start so I walk my kids to the school bus, only to find the milk still leaking. My neighbor stops me to tell me, that the doctors have found a small tumor in her throat. Milk still leaking.
I just need God to come through, for my neighbor, my mom and everyone else around me, even those reading this right now.
As I’m cleaning and praying.
I couldn’t use my kitchen towels because my seven-year old’s glue stick project was fully occupied with slimy goo. Pasted in red letters, Happy Valentine’s mushed in-between.
I thought of the next best thing. Hey no judgment! These things happen, when the milk is being poured.
I found some old shirts, thick enough to absorb a gallon of -precious jewels like this.
There’s nothing reuse-able about God’s holy spirit
God I know you can hear it, the cry of your people
undeniable pounding
pouring out,
sounding like rain
heal us again
try us O’ God , somethings gotta give
if we can’t change the course
change the course of our heart
kindness sis, Krissy
♡ Goddess is looking after you too; so, please, remember “HER” before “HIM”…2020 is A Year of The Goddess, a Leap Year; so please Step Up to The Plate Ladies 🤔 ?
…♡♡♡…
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I believe it and receive it
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When there is milk and honey it is stick and when I get stuck I stop and look around and when I look around I see something that needs to be written and when I write it is wonderful, but so many times I say i am going to just clean up the mess first and I lose the poem — it is gone, gone, gone.
I say — aging brain. God says — you wasted the inspiration I spilled the milk and honey so you would get stuck in.
Thanks for the post.
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Maren, I tell you – l love, love reading your reply. That part about being “stuck in it”yes, yes, yes. I’ll carry this throughout my day. Blessings to you
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Beautiful!💕❤️
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thank you so much America On Coffee
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I think the name of your first novel should be, “Honey, there will be spillage.” Masterful, Krissy. My soul lapped it up, like milk and honey!
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ooh’ I just may do that “Honey there will be spillage” I’ve laugh so much reading your comments Ruth -truly made my night. Thank you so much -I’ve never felt more alive- tonight reading all of these beautiful comments from you. I appreciate that
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You’re one of the greats, Krissy! Remember I told you so! 🙂
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aw, don’t make me cry 🙂 Happy Weekend to your beautiful soul Ruth 🙂
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