Six Word Story (71)

Do you have an arrow you follow? A compass? Something that guides you when you lose sight of land?

We all do, whether or not we realise it.

Sometimes, the guides that we follow are not very clear. Or, their arrows are not true and it’s difficult to discern if we are heading the right way.

How do we know if our guiding arrows are trustworthy? Have you ever had to find a new one?

I have.

Now, my compass is the Holy Bible. What is yours?

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo sourced from unsplash.com


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Six Word Story (70)

The worlds that we are.

The magnificence that each body represents.

Even when flawed, or experiencing illness.

I have had to sit and watch the IV drop in silence, more than once in my life. Have you? I didn’t feel like a masterpiece in the middle of my pain. But that doesn’t change the fact that I was and still am, one.

So are you.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo sourced from unsplash.com


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Six Word Story (69)

Who?

Why?

There is always a reason someone turns on the lights, strikes a match, or opens shutters. It takes intention.

The effects of that one action go beyond the single act and affect everyone who inhabits the darkness. be them human, bug, or bacteria.

Light, and the act of lighting. Such small things, such large changes.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo sourced from unsplash.com


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He Names Me

Who am I?
The one that you see?
What she thinks of me?
All they note?
Or the thing he missed?

Who?

Guilty
That I forgot
Lost in the mess
Of others’ thoughts
Spewed at my feet

Why?

Untranslatable
From one mind to another
Labeled with others
Experiences
Self perceptions that tell lies

Where?

Is the truth of me
In this ever shifting nexus
Is it written down
In His book of days?
Was I

Planted

A vine that climes
Grabbing hold of His
Provisions
Both free and confined
To grow along the trellis of

His cross

When I reach the top
Will I know?
Intertwined and grounded
By Him, with Him,
I am for Him

Upheld

Blooming in my seasons
Existing, a separate being
Singleness, within the
Universe’s Whomb
Bearing fruits as He names me

Loved

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef


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Six Word Story (63)

In the lonely places, in the in between, there is a light that stands witness.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo sourced from Unsplash.com

Where shall I go from your Spirit?
    Or where shall I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
    If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
If I take the wings of the morning
    and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
10 even there your hand shall lead me,
    and your right hand shall hold me.
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
    and the light about me be night,”
12 even the darkness is not dark to you;
    the night is bright as the day,
    for darkness is as light with you.
Psalm 139: 7-12 English Standard Version
On BibleGateway.com


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Splinter

Like
a splinter in the foot
you just can’t seem to see,
is the pain within a heart
filled with
anxiety.
No one else can see
pain
that you now feel.
Often times you ask
if it’s even truly
real.
Walk about your day,
the prick
will stab with pain.
Balancing
the wound
becomes a dripping drain.
Energy is lost,
focus on protect.
Friendships
pays the cost,
when attention you
deflect.
How
to remove
a shard that can’t be seen?
First admit,
discard
pretending’s screen.
Allow
a probing look.
A gentle searching poke.
Trust
someone who knows,
this pain in not a joke.
Often
it may feel
like a bandage ripped away.
The sting,
it may endure
well into your day.
But,
pain of healing hands
is worth a season’s rest.
It’s a pain that’s bearable
when into tears it’s
pressed.
Gentle
words may pinch,
a tweezers searching bite.
And tears can wash away,
splinters
and their bite.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Splinter,’ was originally published in Fahmidan Journal‘s Issue 6: Autoimmune & Mental Health Warriors. Page 10–11.


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Pots of Hope

Have you heard the plastic pull as knife slides across bag of black earth?
Have you felt the beginnings of warmth as matter clings to fingerprints and stains nails dark?
The dirt is chill. Yet the warmth flows, packed in pots of hope.
Have you listened to the rustle of paper release seeds from captivity?
Smallness containing miraculous promise.
Snow may linger, but add a pane of glass to a sun of spring and greenhouses blossom in
earliest spring.
It makes my heart ring.
Simple actions reminding, surrounded by soil’s grounding scent.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Pots of Hope‘ was originally published by Dwelling Literary in the GREENHOUSE Issue. Page 22.


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Message in a Bottle

Wandering
across the expanse.
A dance In speckled darkness.

Glass vessel
reflected glimmers.
Slivers of light refracted through
Translucency,

casting a luminous cloud.
Lighting particles once hidden,
transformed into ethereal wings.

Enabling,
a bottled prayer
to heaven cling.
Whispers,
winging higher than my dreams.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef


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Six Word Stories (56)

It usually surprises people when I tell them, “I do not care for the Christmas season.”
“Arn’t Christians supposed to love Christmas?”

I guess most of them do, but I can’t help but feel an emptiness behind the brightly covered packages and glitz this world throws around during the holiday season. Expectations are high, but things never seem to pan out the way I mean them to. So why write about this now that the Holidays are over, and becoming a memory?

Because the light of Christmas is not supposed to stay locked into a few weeks of the year. The person of Jesus Christ grew and walked away from the manger, taking his flame of light to the very valley of death.

So today I choose to remind myself that though a modern Christmas leaves me empty, and ancient Christ fills me with light.

Look beyond how culture paints things to deep roots.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photos sourced from unsplash.com


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Six Word Story (54)

For healthy development, both emotionally and physically, an infant needs touch. Though many of us hide our longing for intimacy that doesn’t involve sexual contact, adults need touch as well.

A hand to hold. A shoulder to hug. Playful jostling while laughing with friends. These things are important. Give them generously. Receive them gratefully.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo sourced from unsplash.com.


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