Meisiekind

Poplap, Noenoes, Prinses
And then?
Then he called you stupid
She said you’re useless
They said you’re a wannabe, a coconut

Meisiekind, Ma se blom, Kleimeid
And then?
The he said you’re so needy
She asked, why is your hair like that??
They said…. Saartjie Baartman

They’ve given you names
Given you labels
Some sweet and kind
Some to put you down
Keep you in your place

Hey! Can’t you see?
He labelled you through his insecure eyes
She named you from her own fears
And they painted you from limited minds

Come walk with Me
Today, now!
See your true label
Choose your own name
Call yourself…
Loved
Chosen
Awesome
Hidden
and
Worthy.

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(Writing excited me for a very long time. However I didn’t DO it as often as I had wanted to. It’s a, “One day, someday..”type of thing. It also feels somewhat private: Perhaps because many of the poems, thus far, were born from private experiences, opinions, thoughts. And perhaps I’m still insecure to call myself a writer. But….. This specific poem came after I hesitantly shared my blog with a dear friend of mine, Claudine xx. At that moment she was planning a Women’s day event and excitedly invited me to read/share some of my poems. Like I said,the writing process excites me so I agreed. However, closer to the time I became nervous. Because it was never a thought or dream to read my work to an audience. Now the beauty is that I’ve long already greatfully, learned that with God’s Spirit residing in me, that He is my confidence. So when the nerves kicked in, I looked away from me and kept my eyes and ears on Him. So… MEISIEKIND was born. Not knowing where He was going, I just took notes. And with tears rolling I saw and felt again how we as people so often push and keep each other down. With hurtful, unthoughtful words we allow to escape our mouths. Words that sometimes keep the receiver captive for years. But hey! Thank God for the Word, names and labels He speaks over us. Words of love, acceptance and worth.)

(Poplap, Noenoes, Prinses, Ma se blom, Meisiekind and Klimeid are a few loving nicknames in Afrikaans. It’s what we call baby girls and young daughters.)

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Writing challenge, Day 10

WHO ARE YOU?

Who are you?
If you’re not yourself,
your true, honest self.

Merely existing
With persistent off heartbeat
Hiding desires to rather portray
the safe, the required

What are you?
If you’re not yourself,
your true, honest self.

Product of expectation
Clone of faded dreams
Soldier to societal beat

Why are you?
If you’re not yourself
Your true honest self.

Smothering the soul’s true call
Just to play the part while drowning
And your vision slowly fades

Way before anyone knew
who you are, what you are, why you are
He knew. Ask Him.

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Writing challenge, Day 8

BEHOLDER

Should truth be told?
Dare I be so bold?
Painting pictures as I see it
Uttering words as I think it

Oh don’t worry dear
I do admit
Within this sphere
We each behold as we see fit

Sugar coating
People pleasing
Egos rising
Morals dying

So how do we get back?
Are we ever going back?

Sincere living
People building
Humble serving
Love rejoicing

So truth be told
I don’t mind being bold
Painting the picture as I see it
Uttering words as I think it
Pray Love direct me

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Writing challenge, Day 7

Reconciled

I missed you, you know
I really did
Being here
Now
With you
I’m feeling it again

Silent elation
Like only you bring
A naughty grin
Needing to be alone
Just us
Flirting, flowing, merging

Where have I been?
Well, you know
Nowhere in particular
But I have been
Busy
With life

I’m here now
I hope that’s ok
All this time
I thought of you
Longed for you
Really I did

Can we try again?

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Writing challenge, Day 6

Grace upon me. From me.

I’ve had a few days where I couldn’t write here. Life happened. You know how it is. On all those days, I’ve been thinking and longing to get to it. Right up until the point where I got into bed at night, exhausted.

On one of the evenings I even made an attempt to write in bed. I think it would’ve been a crappy poem or whatever it would’ve turned out to be. Just so I could post something.
You see, somewhere in this beautiful brain, an old neuropathway was trying to ignite. Wanting to set in motion thoughts, feelings and actions that does not serve this human any more. In fact, it never did – I just didn’t know it.

Wired into this specific pathway were words and thoughts like: Something is either right or wrong; Finish one thing before you continue to a next; Whatever you do, do it properly; It’s good but you could do better. (Wow, just writing those words brought up a bitter-ish reaction. Is that even a word? Bitter-ish. Lol)

Anyway, I thank God for bringing me into a season where I can LOOK such pathways/mindsets in the eye and weight it. Weight it against His truth about me. My truth. And most importantly, not be tossed into a inner battle. Where my soul is in turmoiled protest against said pathway. Sensing and knowing that there’s another way to think, feel and do when I didn’t get, to what I set out to do.
Yet falling back, over and over again, to the default of the pathway and the turmoil it caused.

A year or so ago, that would have resulted in me closing down this blog. Or perhaps deleting days 1 to 5 of the Writing challenge. Out of shame for not keeping up. Also, judging myself for not posting every day or feeling like a stupid failure. Questioning myself, my reasons for doing this, my skills, blah-blah-blah..

You get the picture.

But, here I am. Writing. Creating with words. Because that’s what I want to do. It makes me happy. In my own rhythm. To my own tune. Because it is part of my truth. Skipping two or three days means just that. A couple of days were skipped. In no way does it mean anything, that the old mindset had me believing.

I know it’s a process: working through such things that’s been set before us as truth. And perhaps it is truth. A truth. Someone else’s truth. But not necessarily in alignment with once own truth.

In this scenario no person or situation were dependent on me writing or not.
There’s no deadline.

Just life – to be LIVED. In abundant grace.

Writing challenge, Day 5

My point of view

Sunday morning, 8h40. Too late. Welcome rain has been blessing our thirsty Cape Town earth and dams for most of the night.

I love this relaxed state my mind and body is in. When my whole being feels in unison. My spirit thankfully greeting my Father; My soul setting the day’s rhythm; My body working out the steps that will flow to the tune that my all wants to sing.

No forced marching, to tunes that’s been set for me. Aweful lyrics of must, should, responsibility… making me nauseous.
No set alarm. No racing thoughts chasing each other on the track of my mind. ‘I have to be there.’ ‘Surely, this can’t be it?’/ ‘If I don’t get up now, I’m going to be late.’ ‘This is not my truth.’

So, why can’t I wake up and get up like this everyday? Because 43 year old neuro pathways are under investigation. Should it be found out of tune with this being’s true rhythm, it will be replaced. Lovingly. Surely. Slowly. Greatfully.

PS. What am I too late for? Gathering with others that share my belief that Jesus is Lord. But, many times I question the gatherings, the setter of the tune, the value of the march… #mypointofview, #mytruth

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