Delicate. fragmenting under pressure.
Desiccated particles, all that remain.
Or…
An imprint that will last lifetimes.
A legacy.
A gift.
A life unforgettable.
We all leave imprints we are unaware of.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Photo sourced from unsplash.com
Young, still growing, still learning, still gaining strength. We call it a bud, but it is still a flower.
It guards itself until the day God whispers reaches it though natures script.
“Its time.”
Then, petal by petal, it opens. I wonder…
Does it hurt? Is there relief? Are there such things as introverted or extroverted flowers? Either way, we wait in anticipation for them to be ready.
People are a lot like buds…
Are you ready? Even if you’re not, you are still beautiful.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Photo Sourced from unspalsh.com
Nothing gets done unless someone is willing to get their hands dirty.
In the western cultures we admire cleanliness, and the modern way of life. But underneath the white walls, and pavement, is the evidence of people who wheren’t afraid of a bit of dirt.
Art making is no different.
We paint, we sculpt, we gather, and glue. A writer creates a ‘dirty draft’ before shaving away exes prose and blowing the fragments into the waste bin at the back of the mind.
We can not remove the muck of ‘making’ from life.
It might be dirty, but it’s beautiful.
I, for one, am thankful that God himself was not afraid of the dirty work of making.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroeft
Photo sourced from unsplash.com
They are a comfort. They tell us someone took the time to fix us up. Sometimes, they come with a kiss.
Bandaid, we wish they could fix everything, don’t we? We run around slapping them on every scrap and bruise like a three-year-old. But in reality, they are not always enough. They can hide the real problem.
Don’t let a bandaid fix keep you from healing. But also, hold dear every kiss they come with.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Photo sourced from unsplash.com
How thirsty the earth is in drought.
But that thirst is only quenched when dark clouds form, and sprinkle us with tears.
Futile regions know a healthy share of gloom. Still, they are lush, despite the lack.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Photo sourced from unsplash.com
There are special people in this world that thrive in the background. Do you know one?
They know how to work with their hands and make things happen.
Or say just the right things to light up the darkness before melting back in to the shadows.
Are YOU one of them?
If you are… Thank you.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Though cracked and dry, the riverbed is still there.
The broken boat evidence of past actions.
Our hearts? Can they still hear the whispers of the waves? Can we still praise in the drought?
It’s hard, but nature doesn’t forget past blessings even as the landscapes change. The earth buries its evidence in layer after layer of newness.
I will try to sit, be silent, and remember the sound of waves lapping the shore. I will remember past blessings. I will praise.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Photo sourced from unsplash.com
Interruptions. Changing of plans. We rarely look for those things, but if you know anything about river adventures, you know that a portage is often unavoidable. What do you do when you find a proverbial canoe on your shoulders, instead of in the water where it belongs?
Keep walking, carry a good compass, bring a friend along to help with the load.
These are things easier said than done. When your legs ache, when you’re tired and it’s dark and you can’t read your compass, when you and your partner find verbal combat easier than carrying a canoe… In the middle of at a portage doesn’t always seem like an adventure, but that’s life. We don’t always recognise the adventures we are on when we are standing in the middle of them.
Perspective. This is my reminder to remember and check my perspective.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Photo sourced from unsplash.com.
Thankful for tears
as I chop onions.
Release,
I didn’t know I needed.
Raw bitterness
dumped
atop sweet
orange flesh.
Juice
flows past my firmest grip.
Gentleness,
mixed with curry spice.
Squash and pear.
present with sadness.
Stewed together
then blended smooth.
A prosses,
as the bubbles rise.
God met me here.
The soup is done.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
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
Mary Grace Writing 