Category Archives: heart

A True Story (poetic license aside…)

He watched her from across the room
And knew he was undone.
He’d tried to build a barrier,
But all resolve was gone.
He felt laid bare for all to see;
He wasn’t in control;
The heart he’d tried to keep himself
Was no longer his own.

He stole a sideward glance at her,
Wiped off his sweaty palms
And checked his watch about the millionth time.
The night was nearly over
But not a word was said
Of the twisting turmoil
That was filling up his head.
For years it had been brewing,
This exquisite sort of pain,
But now he knew his secret could simply not remain
Unsaid.

She, smiling, turned to say goodbye –
His tongue had turned to dust;
He weakly raised his hand to wave
Goodbye to all his love.
But as she walked into the night
His heart would not stay still
But propelled his legs into the dark
And hammered on until
He spoke her name…
She turned around;
Looked into his eyes,
He swallowed fear
Then spoke his love
And boldly said:
“Be mine?”

When it had started he didn’t know
Nor how it all would end;
He only knew he wanted
To be so much more than friends.
He knew she might say no
And that word would break his heart;
But he couldn’t bear not knowing anymore.

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Filed under fear, heart, hope, love, poetry, story

Second Rate

A sharp, wavering intake of breath as I stumble across a blog post about the role of women in the church.  I barely dare to read on for fear of hearing someone say that, yes – God does think I’m second rate.  That He’s made me the way I am just as a cruel joke: to hurt me, to frustrate me, to play with me, to trample me into submission and teach me – by hook or by crook – a lesson about humility.

All around the issue I see inconsistencies and ignorance (“I’ve never really thought about it, but my dad says this…”), inverted pride and nonchalance (“It doesn’t really affect me…”), tradition and stubbornness.  I live in fear of judgement, exclusion and hurt; I live in fear of being labelled too independent, disobedient to God, a feminist

But mostly I live in fear of finding out they’re right.

I once tried to share with a male friend just exactly how much heartbreak these thoughts inflict only to be told that I “think too deeply about things”.  My attempt was obviously horrificly inadequate. 

Even my book of Big Words cannot help me.

A degree of comfort is found in the fact that there is at least one of my male contemporaries who is willing to give more than a passing thought to these things. 

I hope its not as lonely a journey for him.

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Filed under church, fear, heart, questions, women

High School Musical and Other Mush

So, I’m just sitting watching the credits roll to High School Musical. I’m really, really not sure what’s so special about it. Seriously, so many people rave about it, but I’m not at all convinced.

It reminded me about a scene I watched in an episode of Party of Five the other day… Bailey, the 2nd oldest of the unnaturally good-looking Salinger clan is waxing lyrical about his feelings for a girl he’s trying to steal off some other poor bloke. He’s meant to be 16 and he’s talking about his feelings and his deepest desires and generally turning all female knees to jelly. But, seriously – he’s meant to be 16!!!

Then High School Musical’s male lead is Mr Popular basketball player who not only sings like an angel, but is so sensitive and romantic that even the dragon-lady Drama teacher seems to fall for him.

Is it any wonder girls’ heads are screwed up?!

There is, perhaps, much to be said for Mr Darcy’s painfully blunt confession that despite his better judgement he admires Elizabeth Bennet and wishes to marry her. But hang on… even his stern ‘I ardently love and esteem you’ melts us like butter.

Is there any hope for women everywhere who’ve grown up on squishy Hollywood movies? Or respectable BBC productions for that matter? Even the Planet Earth docu-series includes scenes of a male bird diligently cleaning up his display patch before doing his special wooing-dance for the apple of his eye…!

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Filed under heart, hope, perfect love

Lonely Heart

I put my heart into a box

Its bubble-wrapped and double-locked.

The box I put into a room

Where its hidden by the gloom,

The room is down a lengthy hall

Behind locked doors and sturdy walls,

The hall is in a shut-up house

Where nothing enters or comes out,

The house is on a one-way street

Where love and sorrow cannot meet,

The street is in a far-off town

Where neither pride or hurt are found,

The town is in a secret land

Where no-one can misunderstand,

The land is in another place

Where no-one ever speaks of grace

But its very lonely there.

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Filed under heart, poetry