Poetry Session 4: "Flight Dare"

"Flight Dare"
by Lindsey Adare
Written December 2010

"I can feel it---the shaking in my spirit.
The burn for risk, yet desire for safe.
As the way of eagles, the nest is disassembled,
And this bird is left perching on thorns,
When the sky is the limit, when fear baffles...

Do I dare trust my own wings?

I hear whispers---my soul shivers,
"How is the bold afraid?" I ask,
When the Trusted One gives a dare.
I doubt, argue, question, diminish.
Surely I can't be ready for this?

Do I trust the wings I was given?

Yet a rumbling soul---it takes control,
And at this I know what needs to come.
I go, jump, leaving thorns behind...
Laughing: daringly agreeing the challenge.
Flying: I was created for this."

Poetry Session 3: "The Grudge"

"The Grudge"
by Lindsey Adare
Written March 24, 2008


How the determined hearts yearn to forget
All the broken memories of yesterday.
And how split hearts try to disguise pain,
But brokenness does not mend right away.


The strength is not there to erase the past,
And bitterness is always the worst judge.
How proud hearts yearn to be free of pain,
And to cleanse the stain of The Grudge.


I think we all can relate to fear of monsters. When we were children, they hid under our beds or in our closets... (Don't laugh, you know you had that fear, too.) Now that we're older, we have different fears and different monsters.  Some monsters seem harmless at first, then they take their bite... Some come out quickly, and some take their time to make themselves known... One such monster is an ugly one called The Grudge. This monster creeps in slowly, meticulously digging its claws into our hearts... embedding himself into our thoughts over the course of time. Sometimes, we don't know The Grudge is there, and he's able to quietly fester to become stronger until we loose track of ourselves. The Grudge is a dangerous monster, one to be feared, for certain. Some proud hearts fight him, but once The Grudge has found a home in a heart, he is difficult to get rid of by one's own strength.

So what makes him attach himself to us in the first place? Like sharks drawn to blood, The Grudge feeds off hearts that have been broken and are storing up anger and bitterness. A bitter heart is like pure sweetness to him, and he can feed so quietly sometimes his victim never suspects he has invaded until The Grudge has taken over his life.

So how can we get rid of The Grudge? The answer is Forgiveness. I believe at some point in our lives we all find ourselves in the scenario of having to forgive someone from our pasts, or we find ourselves in that place of desperation, knowing it's either let go or be satisfied with The Grudge's invasion. In short, to get rid of The Grudge, we have to forgive those who hurt us in the past. We must forgive ourselves, too, and be forgiven. That's where Grace comes in... otherwise known as Jesus ("who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases," Psalm 103:3). He is the master at removing The Grudge, simply because He has to have full access to our hearts for the removal process to work, and when He has full access, The Grudge has no more room to dwell. However, one should know that once The Grudge is gone, this monster is known to leave a stain behind from the monster's slime, but don't worry. The stain may take some time to remove, but that's where the Holy Spirit comes in... His job is to heal and clean our hearts.

We all have probably experienced The Grudge's invasion at some point, I myself not excluded. I had The Grudge... and he was removed, one claw at at time, from my heart. Then a stain was left behind to prove where he lived--- a stain which the Holy Spirit is still cleaning. It's all good, though... I'm just glad to have my heart worked on by Someone so cool.

Hebrews 12:1
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.

Poetry Session 2

I was searching through all my ramblings and found one that I thought might kinda sorta be suitable for the Christmas season. So considering it being Christmas Eve, here's another one!

"Mystery Reflection"
by Lindsey Adare,
Written March 2010


Embracing the peace that comes after the chaos,
The whole night to wrap you in shadows then light.
Mystery, mystique, crying tears of victory and defeat---
Isn't this how it is?


The relief that comes after the truth is exposed,
The guilt that kills when a lie is covered in full.
Twisted, resisted, truth founded and undefeated---
Isn't this how it is?


Have you found what you thought couldn't be found?
A lost memory, a hidden hope, a sun in the night?
Serenity, Security, laughter from now to eternity---
Isn't this how it is?


Have you leaned on strength that wasn't your own?
Rode on wings and not sure where they came from?
Unafraid, undone, letting go of what has already begun---
Isn't this how it is?


I have embraced, resisted, exposed, stood undefeated.
I have found what was hidden, rode on mystery Wings.
Stretched, sustained, all and nothing I have gained---
But Peace... This is how it is.

Poetry Session 1

I have always loved writing, but have kept my poetry tucked away in old notebooks. Some are really private as many times I write the very essence of what is going on in my heart, and it would seem weird if I knew it was public... It would be like my soul was naked. But I've decided to put a few on this blog for the heck of it. These are glimpses of my real life, feelings I have felt. They are more like journal entries... This first one is older, from a season of intense questioning of myself during a very insecure time. Part of me cringes to put this up... but whatever. It's honesty from where I was in my thoughts.

"Questions"
by Lindsey Adare
Written in Early Fall 2007


Helpless or helpful?
Potential or ruin?
    Shiny, sparkling with light...
Or dull?


Do I hide my own light?
Is my mouth covered
    that my voice cannot be heard?
Blend in, or stand out?

Poetry: A Fake Author's Perspective of Control

A poem I wrote about what can happen
when we play the Author of our lives.

“Surrender”

I had displayed a fancy smile for all to see,
Flashed a bright lie like a red marquee.
I had controlled the pages of my own story,
Then shed tears when it controlled me.

Iron grip wrapped around my pen and my pain,
Flashes of lightening in my heart again.
I wanted life with no one but me to blame,
But I trod down a path of resentment and shame.

But as the pen fell from my ice cold hand,
My broken pride fell like rapid quick sand.
Time for pride to fall and surrender to stand,
And not expect life to go as I had planned.

Then I watched words I had written fade,
Disappear from the storyline I had made.
I threw off a character I had miserably played,
An Author of Life was what I had portrayed.

Then a Hand wrapped around the pen tight,
And began to write new things in my sight.
I was no author, and surrendered the fight,
As the true Author took over in all might.