That is no longer my reflection in the old red crusty wagon…

Photo Credit Lisa Ralph; Cheney Wa. This just taken yesterday as my husband I were diligently working on the repairs of our winter flooded basement in sale of our home. As I pulled back the molded covering of the window. Knee deep in mold from weeks of flooding. I saw this red wagon with rain pelting it without reprieve.  I was taken in capture, and mentally in write of what I wrote today. Always stopping to take pics. Him, “hon you working here?” “Yep, just always in thought as I am a writer that is my niche.”

Psalm 46:10

Be still and know that I am God

No longer my reflection in stale waters pelts

My heart as melted into you

No longer filled to over pours of overwhelming skeletons that lay in the rust of the wagons long seasons lodging 

Ripple effect pounds the morning rain in gain of led filled trenches

Be still do not quiver, take warmth. For every cast iron heart, can be made soft as the morning dew

You are an antiquie, like a fiddle in a dusty box ready to be plucked. Beautifully encased. Just need a little polish 

Stop looking at the old wagon hiding out under the stairs. Eaten away by weather’s ways. It is forecast no to rain today. The rust can be scraped away. Taken down to the medal, revamped for a show. For your show 

Go now look at your reflection not in that old red crusty wagon. Look up into the sky, and be still and know that I am God. Your beauty right here. Turn the dog earred pages, of your dusty book. Blow the dust, and take another look. 


Author: Lisa O'Day, Cries from an unkempt garden

I write to tell my story of how I overcame self affliction, and great despair in this life. For I write to share the death to self that took place. That I may Glorify God in all I do. May my writings be a refelction of freedom, for I am no longer in captivity of self. May they be warm, and inviting. For I write because God has given me words that drip from my mouth to be seen.

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