Tag Archives: picture it & write

_picture it & write/ Ermilia

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http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/pictureitandwrite2copy-1mountains 2

 

 

The people are being called

And all I have done is sit down and bawled

You see they are being called by God

To follow the sheep and carry the rod

I know that we are here on loan

This isn’t really our permanent home

I know that God has been calling our home

But I refuse to answer the phone

I beg for just a little more time

Please don’t be mad and cut our line

You have to understand that I

Am building a memory box six feet high

If you can let me do this first

I will wipe your feet and quench your thirst

I know dear Lord I call out to you

There are so many things I want from you

I have tried to do things on my own

But I guess I have to give up my stubborn bone

So I come to you just one more time

And ask you to put Al at the end of the line.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd

06/23/2013

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_Picture it & Write/ Ermiliablog

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castleScary isn’t it, the thought of being left here all alone. No one to talk to, only the voices in your mind responding back to you.

Hidden a way from the rest of the world. No telephones, no modern technology. What will you eat? Where will you go to purchase it? No drop through drive inns. No formal restaurants to dine in.

How will you hide your nakedness? Can you take a quick run to Macy’s or Wal-Mart? This can be a mortifying  thought. The media have taught us we are not good enough the way we are. We must find the right style, the right brand name in order to walk out of our doors comfortably.

Would you and I give up and run and hide in some forsaken corner? Would we just rest our heads against our arms and weep into our own skin? Would we just give up and die?

Or could it be a beneficial time for us. Would spending a few days alone cause us to take our mind off of the world, and what it has taught us to take a better look at who we are?

Do you know who you are? Do you understand your purpose of having this short time here on earth? Why were we born? What are we supposed to be doing while we are visiting here on earth?

For me, getting a way from the hustle and bustle for only a short time could only improve the person I am. I may go into a bit of frantic for the first few hours. I may even throw myself a big pity party.

But with time I would have no other choice unless you think death is a choice, but to look at me. What am I capable of? Is there a learning experience I haven’t seen before?

The imagination that has been put on hold while we live with microwaves, boxed foods, fast cars, cell phones and computers, would have to be put back to work. Remember when we were children? Of course you do. Those are some of our happiest memories, or at least I hope they are.

We played Mommy with our babies. We took them for walks in their strollers. We had tea with them. We asked and answered our own questions. The imagination is a marvelous tool that we have let lay by the road side.

We would figure out how to eat. None of us really want to die, we just want to escape. Therefore we would learn how to go back and eat like Adam and Eve did. We would clothe ourselves from what nature provides us.

We would start asking ourselves questions and we would study until we came up with the answers. We would be able to determine what we liked and didn’t like about ourselves and change what we could.

For those of us who carry a little extra weight, I am sure we would lose it quite quickly due to not eating starches and sugars. We would walk more, we would once again become healthy as we were born.

We would come in  touch and focus on why we were brought here to live. We would figure out what our natural talents are. We would discover that in the end we are magnificent creatures. We wouldn’t need the approval of friends, and magazines plus the media to accept ourselves.

I actually believe we each would benefit in many ways, living in this mysterious, hidden place a way from all humans. Think about it my friends. Are you and I wrapped up in the advertising world? Do we need to step back, be by ourselves, take a break and rediscover who we are?

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Picture It & Write

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http://ermiliablog.wordpress.compictureitandwrite2copy-1key to my heart

Do you hold the key

To the mystery in the sea?

Can you see deep within

The color of my skin?

Can you read the ball

Tell futures on the wall?

Do you know where I have been

Do you know my past sin?

Can you see within my heart

Did you think we’d  ever part?

Can I look into your eyes

Can I see all of your lies?

Can you feel the hurt inside

That I try so hard to hide?

Do you sense the void I feel

As you drive behind the wheel?

Do you remember the last time

When we went out to dine?

Do you remember when you said

I would be the only one in your bed?

Can you see my hidden tears

Do you sense all my fears?

Do you remember when we said

Our vows when we thee wed?

I can no longer hold on

I want and need you gone.

I take back the key you hold

I must break it in two-fold.

The key which  kept us as two

And  has now come unglued.

A shattered heart I feel

The layers you have peeled.

Please go a way and do not look

I know that now you took and took.

In time I know I will heal thine heart

But first we must become a part.

The key I hold in my hand

I buried it deep within the sand.

Terry Shepherd

02/24/2013

 

 

Picture it & Write, Ermiliablog (Sensitive Subject Matter, Cancer)

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http://ermiliablog.wordpress.compictureitandwrite2copy-1

lady in tubSoaking in a nice hot tub after spending the night with my husband was the icing on the cake. Allan, my husband was a salesman for a big corporation. He traveled extensively all around the world.

When he came home, he let his mind rest. He let work go, and our time together was heaven.

We had no children. Not because we didn’t want any, but because God hasn’t placed it in our plan of life.

Hi, my name is Christy. My husband Allan and I got married five years ago today. He is a very busy man, but I am still just as important to him today as I was years earlier. We weren’t sure if we were going to be able to get married or not.

Oh don’t get me wrong. We are crazy for each other. You remember those blood tests you must have in order to get married? Well, mine came back with something abnormal. I was sort of freaking out, but Allan held my hand as we crossed through the doors into the doctor’s office.

Allan held both of my hands and my heart when I was told they had discovered a rare blood disease called Multiple Myeloma. This is a cancer that attacks the plasma in your blood.

In fact this is what my good friends father had, so I was somewhat familiar with it. My walls came crashing down around me and the only life string I had at that moment was Allan.

The plans for the wedding automatically were placed on hold. I couldn’t think of planning. All I could think of was death. I wept on Allan’s shoulder at the news. In fact, I wept for days ahead also. I didn’t want to die. I was too young to die. Most people who are affected by this type of cancer are over the age of 50. I am only 32, so how can this happen to me? How can this be?

Allan traveled back when we were planning our wedding but not as much as now. He cancelled his appointments and we spent many hours with counselors and our church pastor.

We learned from these talks that we are not always given the life we wish for. Some times there are obstacles that come in our way. These are not meant to harm us. They are meant to draw us nearer to God, to lean on him and become stronger. I call them the tests of life.

With this knowledge in hand, we decided to go forth with our wedding. We knew not the season that this cancer would still my life. We only knew that we loved each other and that God was watching over us. For what ever time we had, we would live life to the fullest.

The bells rang and the bird seed was thrown. The horse and carriage carried us to our motel as husband and wife. Today, is our fifth anniversary. I am hopelessly in love, and deliriously happy.

I try not to look towards the future. For the only one who really knows our destiny is our own loving God. But instead I look to today. How to make the best of it. To be as upbeat and positive that I can be.

I now work part-time in a small office. I do promos for cancer benefits. While Allan is gone a lot, it is alright. Because when he is here, the world belongs to  us.

Picture it & Write, January 06/2013

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http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2013/01/06/picture-it-and-write-2/child smoking

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I wanted to smack her! I am sorry but I have worked and worked with this child of mine and nothing has worked. I have three children. Holly is the middle one you see in the photo above.

I at first felt great guilt at yelling at her for smoking. I smoked also, so how could I tell her not to? She is a child, this is why. I am an adult. I know the sentence that could lie ahead for me with smoking, she does not.

She was always the one child who feared nothing in life. Holly dared anything she could get by with. Strong personality, aggressive in thoughts. The first child that learned to talk back at such an early age.

She excelled in school. Each teacher she encountered always made the same remarks about Holly. She was very smart and caught on to her school work quickly. Was she too smart? Was she gifted? Should I consider advancing her in grade levels. Does she need to be challenged more?

When it was her and I at home, she was defiant. It was like she had Edward Scissorhands;  daggers for me. Anything I asked she fought. If I talked nice to her, she mocked me. I was beginning to think she was the child from hell.

How could she fool everyone else but me? Teachers adored her. Classmates played well with her. It was only me, a single parent left to raise three kids alone. I had to work, I had to put food on the table and pay the bills.

I felt too much guilt for not being there when ever she needed me. I was so sure that I had done something wrong in my rearing of her, that I bent over backwards to give her all that I could.

Her siblings would tend to cause problems for me as it seemed like I treasured Holly more than them. This was not the case though. I was trying to get through each of my days in peace.

I had Holly tested in many areas with different specialists. Nothing positive ever came out of it. She always tested normal. I asked family, friends and even other children’s parents if they had children like this.

There responses were a laughing no. If they had children like that, they would provide them with a tough love. What was tough love? I had never heard of this? I researched it on the internet.

tough love

NOUN:

The use of strict disciplinary measures and limitations on freedoms or privileges, as by a parent or guardian, as a means of fostering responsibility and expressing care or concern.
Wow, I was doing it back words. I was carrying the guilt for not being there. I was letting her manipulate me. I needed to change and change right now. I decided the next day would start the new me.
I saw her after school smoking. She saw me coming near and the look she gave me was I dare you to do anything. I took her at her idol threat. I could not stand it any longer.
I pulled my car up along the curb and put it in park. I got out and went over to her and said, “Let’s go. Put the cigarette out and please get in the car”. She stood her ground and took a big hit off of her cancer stick. She replied with a catty voice, ” I will go when I am ready. I can walk home. I don’t need a ride”.
I took the cigarette out of her mouth and threw it on the ground. I stomped on it until the red glow was completely out. I took her by the hand and I pulled her to the car with her screaming at me. I didn’t give a shit who was watching me. This child was going home with me!
I got her in the car and buckled her up and went to my side and got in. I locked the doors and started the engine. Off we went for home. We were both silent, which was fine with me. I was thinking, what am I going to do with this child once I get her home. Talk to her? Scold her? Ground her?
When we walked into the front door of our home she began to rant. She was calling me names and stomping her feet. A very big tantrum for a child her age. I stood there quietly as she continued her performance and then I took her by the hand and sat her down at the kitchen table.
I said to her, ” I am your mother. I am tired of letting you control my emotions. You are destroying my days. I don’t know why you act this way with only me, but it is over. I will not tolerate any more actions from you. The smoking is over. If I catch you doing the smoking thing one more time, I will have to send you to boot camp for bad kids”.
She laughed and said, ” You wouldn’t dare. I will report you for child abuse. I will tell the police that you abuse me. I will run a way from  home”. I looked at her with an emotionless face.
The two of us became very quiet, as we digested what the other had said. After a few minutes had gone by she asked, “Why do you hate me so mother? Why do you treat me worse than the other two? What did I do to make you hate me so much”?
I looked at her and my mouth opened to speak. Be careful what you say. I know you want to lash out at her. You want to tell her how miserable she has made you but don’t. You love her, you just don’t like the way she is acting.
I spoke saying, ” I love you very much Holly. You get treated the way you do because mom feels guilty. Guilty for not being here for you. Guilty for the divorce and you growing up with only one parent”.
“But the other two, you must feel guilty about them too right? I mean, they are living with one  parent also, right”?
“Yes, this is true, but you are the one who brings about more challenges for me. You have tested me more than your siblings. I lose my patience with you Holly. You are always testing me”.
” I just want to know that you love me mommy”. Holly said crying.