The Passion of My Creator

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My wonderful readers, this is in fact, the shortest blog post I will ever publish.  I’m fully aware  I am that person who rambles on and on. I often lose people with the words that flood me like a tidal wave, yet prayerfully, am used to captivate you with even one sentence you may recall.  If you have the uncanny gift to follow a conversation with me, you deserve an award!  I say this with light humor because I feel it is important to sometimes slow down in life…To:

Not say as much.

Listen more.

Care deeply.

When I was sixteen years old, I faced an extremely intense dilemma for someone of my young life.  It consisted of a choice.  Do I leave a deeply toxic and damaging situation and run into the arms of God’s purpose for my life?  Or do I stay stuck in the barrel of the gun that was shot in my face each and every day, because as we all know eventually a bullseye can happen when we are living outside of God’s purpose?  Therefore putting ourselves in the fire of total destruction.

During my lunch hour today, in the midst of a rather stressful day at work, I sat next to a big pine tree enjoying the unseasonal warm Wisconsin weather.  Jamming out to my Spotify playlists, God brought me a memory of a poem I wrote in the throws of past turmoil.  One that propelled me to eventually chose Him, and take the risk of a lifetime, leaving severe dysfunction to heal from abuse no one should ever have to face.

I sat on the murky grass and took in the sunshine that will soon turn to a gray cold that will blanket my state for months on end, and found myself, at forty-two faced with a similar dilemma I did when I was a teenager.

What choice do I make, one that God is showing me will transpire, one of healing, peace, acceptance, and unconditional love?  Or will I stay intoxicated by a habit that I now give myself?  Sadly children who have suffered severe abuse at a young age, deliver the same level of destruction that was placed upon them as children into adulthood.  When abusive behavior was forced upon a child in the delicate formation of emotional budding the consequences can be dire.

God gave me the provision through the sun beaming down on the fall trees in all of their red and gold glory today…To…

Chose Him.

Choose Life.

Choose the Passion of My Creator.

This poem was one of the first pieces of literature that I wrote that helped give me confidence as an author.  It won awards, scholarships, and His words that flowed through me helped me cling to His love through my suffering.  It was later published in a book of a New York Times Bestseller’s collection of poetry and prose, filled with stories of overcoming odds and fulfilling…my  very own destiny!

My life has always been, during the peaks and valleys about turning to the Love that won’t be undone.  I promise you, at forty-two it will be no different than in the adolescence of a very young version of…me.

Here is my short yet deeply powerful poem I wrote in the fall of 1989, and my friends, no matter how difficult your situation may seem, follow the Passion of your Creator.

The Passion of my Creator  ~Ami George 1989
I search for security
In the essence of a risk.
Slipping into the hollow chamber of change
My hands in torment can no longer hold on.
Feeling faced with the impossible
Expectations of strength,
His blood trickles down my arm,
As I scream out,
“Declare the passion of my Creator”

My identity is captured
In the culmination of my morality,
Through the ambivalence of my existence
the journey of my poignant youth is discovered.

Perplexed as how to quench the desire
His blood flows into the tears of my wounds.
I look beyond the fears ahead
and once again
the dichotomy is reborn.

Suddenly, the blood on my hands,
And the tears proving the sorrow of life
become transparent.
I reach out to the power of Salvation
Touching, feeling, and holding the love with no pain.

His resilient hand, I cling
And His Passion is Declared Through My Life.

 

 

 

The Wish Flower

God’s beauty comes in so many forms we miss them every day. What if your ugliest of secrets could be used to be His most beautiful of testimonies? Join me in finding our inner wish flower!

Every now and then in life, a wish has the potential to manifest into reality.  Possibly, a plush garden that we are set free in and given free reign to grow and prosper.  But in all reality, nothing of the sort comes without a lot of hard work dedication and sacrifice.  A short time ago I clearly heard the voice of God telling me that He has extraordinary plans for me…perhaps a stunning garden of my own to dance and sing in if only I was ready….  

I saw a vision so magnificent chills prickled my skin to the point of ache.  My eyes filled with tears filtered through a colander crafted by Hope.  The kind of desire only God’s promises can bring, those created with the purest of gold.  The sun formulated shadows on the stunning Wisconsin landscape as I envisioned my dream turning into reality, for as we all know God doesn’t lie. Holding on to the peak that God had just given me, I imagined myself right where my Maker had told me I could be…

But under one very important condition, one that I wasn’t sure I could meet.

I had to give up my last vice, the one that had been plaguing me for the better part of my adult life.  My poison, my escape, my greatest lie yet what I oddly considered to be my very best friend.

God clearly told me “no more one foot in, one foot out!”  He declared that in order for me to fulfill the destiny He has laid out in front of me I had to stop blowing on the wish flower hoping my dreams would come true.  It was time for me to become the wish flower.

Early in springtime, our green grass is filled with bright yellow weeds we call dandelions. Most of us find them to be a hassle, an annoyance, and something that eventually turns into a feathery mess that only creates millions of more ugly weeds.

Each and every one of my four children in the innocence of childhood found such “ugliness” to be a flower that they could pick for me.  When my three boys were little they would run to me with a handful of the golden weeds, proudly handing me what they saw as a dozen yellow roses.  Of course, my eyes lit up and I kissed them harder than they liked.  I’d put those darn, hideous things in a cup of water and place them where all could see.  They were flowers from my sons after all.

Recently my youngest child, my one, and only daughter discovered the brilliant abundance of flowers everywhere her eyes could scan!  The same glory shone on her face as she picked as many as her small hands could hold to present to me.  I smiled and warmly held on to the memory of my older boys doing so as preschoolers and finding myself so blessed that I got to be the recipient of dozens and dozens of dandelions one last time.

As the weeds went to seed I taught my daughter to pick one, close your eyes tight, make a wish, then blow!  We had so much fun running in the meadows captivating our wishes and watching them fly in the wind.  A few days later my daughter and I were on a walk and she declared with her sweet angel voice:  “Mommy,  let’s pick the wish flower.”  As she tugged on my hand dragging me over to a dandelion that was resigned to nothing but a bunch of white seeds held on by a frail material that would scatter with the slightest of winds, she picked one for herself and then one for me.

“Blow, mommy, blow the wish flower.”

In sweet unison we sent the seeds out to pasture with all the breath we could muster. Fragments of the once robust weed were sent in every direction to cultivate the next season of the ugly weeds life.

I took great pause looking at a stinky old weed through the eyes of my children, and in that moment I realized how similar I am to that “flower”.

Often times I feel less than desirable and misplaced.  An annoyance that shouldn’t be adored as a “real” flower, but merely one that only looks like one from a distance.  

Standing there watching the tiny buds of future life fly in the sky destined for their landing place I realized that is how God uses us.  He takes our “yuk” our undesirable and unlovely things to plant the earth with His mercy, grace, and beauty for all to look on in awe.  I’ve discovered through struggle and past turmoil that our past where we no longer live, but where we can be used in tremendous ways.

Of course,  the catch twenty-two is we can’t live there anymore if we are destined to do the work God has in store for us.  We have to move past the comfortability that holds us back, whatever the last straw is, we have to break free and move into the light and testimony of the calling He has on our lives.

A few days later I did it!  I leaped into the arms of promise and purpose giving up my crutch and truly began living, soaring toward the woman God has in store for me.  I’m ready for Him to breathe new life into me and blow my seeds all over this world.  For every part of me, broken and beautiful is wonderfully and fearfully made and God has promised me that He will use it all for His glory.  

For as a daughter of God, I am His wish flower.