30 Posts Challenge: #15 How a Devo Becomes a Poem

Hello to everyone who still on this 30 Posts Challenge with me. I have been so touched by the love and encouragement. God is so good. I thought I would share with you how a devotion time becomes a poem for me sometimes. This particular post is a Sunday morning after I have dropped Bobby off for Sunday School at his church. Despite a beautiful moment with God the night before after attending my own church, I was feeling pretty rough after a long weekend of pain, and just did my devo at a local fast food while waiting to go back for Bobby. No one at McDonald’s cares how rough you look. They’re too hungry. Anyway… this was what came of that day, and birthed a poem. Not necessarily a rhyming one, but it’s not always about rhyme. The reason is always more important.

Good morning, Lord. Here you and I are. We had a blessed evening last night, and this morning is just as blessed, but I am ashamed to say that there are major distractions: my brain, strangers… invading my space, those looks, whoa! whatever that smell is (while a song overhead sings, “they way you smell”, ha ha, you’re funny, God), the CO2 truck (which makes me wonder about the smell), the young family with children dressed so beautifully, the man who held the door for me, the man who held the door for those ladies then got into his truck, the funny cashier, the one who handed me my order, the guy filling supplies, the extremely wet floor (careful!), my tablet needs to charge (which it’s doing now in the car), my smartphone is at home (even though you whispered very loudly), and I “just now” realized my good ole fashioned Bible would work but then remember as I write that I intentionally left it because I was relying on the tablet.

Don’t forgot those 2 neighboring ladies on their laptops… loudly. There is so much to do Online today. Hope it’s not overload… FB, GP, WP. Where’s the rest of my egg? 😦 No wonder it’s cheaper. This monitor keeps showing something on Trump. I think I shall spare an opinion because it would be uninformed regardless of what either side said.

Lord, there are so many distractions. And here I thought it was all my own consuming thoughts. Yet maybe all of this is to distract those unwelcomed thoughts… ok maybe unwelcomed wouldn’t be fairly accurate… intrusive… yes intrusive thoughts. They intruded and instead of protesting, or at least politely excusing myself I welcomed them. They vie for my attention, but wasn’t that the goal to begin with?

Now there is the 2 on the right talking bidding games Online. There is a wall around me… literally. There is an area back in this corner that has a wall to the left, a window behind me, the wall to the right, and even the front of me has a partial wall at the right side, and those 2 on the laptop take some space on the left. There’s just enough space for someone to walk in and out. You have provided a nice hedge about me. ❤

UGH! That foul language from the lady who talks about the betting! That F word is so ugly! And now she’s singing with the music overhead that sounds like we should be in the nightclub. I would rather hear her singing instead of the other.

I can remember when I use to use the F word. MF was my favorite. It was the best way to be heard. You can ask someone to please be quiet, to hold it down, even to shut up, but they just keep on, often not even hearing you. But if you tell someone to shut the F up, EVERYBODY stops, stares, and shuts up. And the others who use the F word look at you just as much with disgust like everyone who doesn’t use the word. Thank you for taking that from me. Thank you for making it just as ugly to me as you must see it.

I never thought I would break free. Once you’re used to it, it’s a HARD habit to break even when you genuinely want to stop using it. It can even disgust you, but especially when you stub your toe, get angry, or just want to STOP getting the world’s attention. Yet that’s what you absolutely get. That look of something drastic has happened to you… as bad as it can get… some thinking that it’s permanent, some thinking it will take a miracle, but they have to wait till they get past the catatonic shock. Yeah, I used to be there… in a very bad way.

The poem will be on the next post because put together with this it would be very long.

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gaillovesgod

It's not about me. It's all about my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!

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