Just in the Nick of Time

I'm not one to dwell on the past.  But I've heard it said, 'those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it'.  Remembering from time to time will help keep things in perspective.  It allows us to adequately consider each minuscule or monumental event which contributed to our character development.  It helps us answer the question, 'why?'.  I'm no psychologist, but I must say, that I've read and experienced enough to know that everything in life happens for a season and a reason.

Without acknowledging our past or looking through the wormhole of our fears, we will never fully heal from it.  The suffering we endured gives us greater insight and a profound connection to those that share the same pain.  You've heard the phrase, 'I understand' from people who have no clue what you're speaking of.  Though, they mean well, it is a little condescending.  So when you finally do come across that person who says, 'I understand' and truly does understand because they lived through it themselves, then it is a relief.  You realize you are not alone; that you weren't the only one who traveled the long, dark road.

I am fully aware that the horrible pain inflicted on us is for a greater purpose.  Most times, we are pruned by fire so that when we tell another, 'I understand', we actually mean it.  Although, Thanksgiving Day is a wonderful holiday because of what it represents, I've always felt there is no need to wait for one particular day to say 'thanks'.  We should be grateful each and every day of our lives.  With that said, today I wanted to share the reasons why I'm thankful with all of you as witnesses of my deep seeded gratitude.

Here goes. I'm thankful ...

• for being kidnapped by my father when I was four yrs old
• for having a fighting mother that never gave up the search
• for being abused as a child
• for knowing the bruised face of domestic violence through my mother's pain 
• for seeing the ugly face of drug and alcohol addiction on family members 
• for the tears, the heartbreaks, and rejections 
• for the incompetent teachers who belittled assuming they were great mentors
• for the family who used manipulation and humiliation throughout the years
• for the depression that was the climax of it all

... but most of all, I'm thankful for being rescued by a loving God ... just in the nick of time.

Without experiencing any of these events in my life, I could never have written the words that I have.  All that pain amounted to something beautiful.  I became stronger.  And though I find myself still wondering on certain issues, I know that the good Lord has a higher calling and great purpose for my life.  In the end, that's what keeps me standing.  It's what keeps me breathing.  It's what keeps me humble.  It's what makes me thankful.

My dear friends, I pray that on this Thanksgiving as you sit around the table with your loved ones, you remember my words.  If only for a moment, look back at your past, look deep into the river of despair and thank God for bringing you out ... just in the nick of time.  Enjoy your holiday and God bless!

Copyright © 2009 by Ellie Kings

*Art by the talented Joey Remmers

Your Wicked Enemies

isn't it amazing how far you've come
yet their faith is still undone
they pick at flaws long unseen
'least by you, but they still see
they waltz the room with noses raised
without a care, they're never swayed
their belief is all that counts
how they feel is what amounts
you can't change them though you try
they crucify you without cry
they stone you and kill you off
with vicious words and hate they love
still you brave life's highest standards
mostly fueled by enemies
you stand on justice, truth and love
yet they cast you to the wolves
their burning tongue lights wildfires
they push you in and turn an eye
they have a feast at your expense
they drink and toast upon your death
but soon one day when entertained
by all the damage they have made
they'll be pulled up like wicked weeds
what they have sowed, they finally reap

then the Kingdom’s yours for taking

from afar, you'll hear them weeping

their vile ways will be avenged

by your loving God’s defense

copyright © 2009 by Ellie Kings

*Based on Matthew 13:24-30 NIV

Art by Kimmary Maclean and Tomas Del-Amo

To Keep You From Drowning

Give me your hand; don’t be afraid

Let me show you how it’s done

First, you must take a leap of faith and keep your eyes focused on me

Take a step and then another but don’t you look away

Looking away will only remind you of your past

Your past will remind you of your fears

And your fears will only stop you from getting one step closer to freedom

..:~:..

Listen to my voice; It will keep you from drowning

Do not listen to the echoes in your ear

Steady… have faith… do not be afraid… I will be with you all the way

Be brave…imitate me...

By letting go of yourself for another

Giving of yourself for a greater good

That is the wholeness of true freedom

Do not stare at the water, for it is deep and confusing

It is frightening to see your reflection in the middle of a profound ocean

Do you see? You're already brave

You are the only one who chose to follow me out into the deep

You didn’t question where I was going or how I would get there

You simply followed me… against all natural opposition
..:~:..

If you continue to hear the melody of my voice

You will not stray away in the wrong direction

For I am here, guiding you, holding your hand

Just to keep you from drowning

Copyright © 2004 by Ellie Kings

*Based on Peter's moment with the Master

Art by Bill Stephens

Rescuing the Words

 

when do I find the words

to make the story alive

to keep the memory awake

so it no longer dies

how do i write the words

on the bark of a tree

in the water on waves

in the heart of the sea



why do i hide the words

on a shelf full of dust

in a cluttered dark chest
or behind the moon's light

how do i rescue the words
from the pendulum's end
from the guillotine's death
from the silence ahead

Copyright© 2009 Ellie Kings
Photo by Harley Lever

On the F

it's nice to see the light at the end of the tunnel

it brightens my face with a smile

it whispers in my ear

'you're going places'

it doesn't matter how long I've waited

five minutes or a lifetime

that light brings with it a sense of relief

i'm going home today

...waiting for the future

it is the ending of something old

and the beginning of something new 

the hope of something wonderful

that light brings with it... possibility

wait for it... wait

don't grow impatient

for impatience causes accidents, dilemma and fear

be not afraid of the light

but never run towards it

just wait...

until the light comes to you

don't let the future get the best of you

curiosity may allow your foot to slip

when it slips

you will fall

and the light you've  yearned for most

has passed over you and left you behind

to wonder what you did wrong

and ask why you did not wait

so if I may remind you

if you miss this light, there is another

for there are always lights

coming and going the rest of your life

some might go east, some may go west

but whichever way you're headed

don't fret

there's a light meant just for you

to take you home

to lead you somewhere

 out of all the lights

on all days of the week

i most enjoy waiting for the F

it reminds me of a Future

still waiting to be discovered

and all i must do... is... wait

Inspired by the F train in NYC

copyright © 2005 by Ellie Kings

*photo by Sam Oakes

My Death After All

She was my mother, yet she did not show it

She rejected me, from the very first day

I wanted her affection; she never returned it

She simply did not love me - she told me so herself

She said given the choice, she would have aborted

From the minute I was born, she declared her hate

When I was days old, she attempted to drown me

She hid me below water, like I was a mistake

If it wasn’t for my grandma; my tiny body struggling

There are no doubts today; I’m sure I would be dead

But heaven didn’t want me, the angels weren’t waiting

For the hand of God itself, held and kept me safe

So because she couldn't kill me; within a month, she left me

Discarded like old shoes damaged by the rain

Mother you can have her, for I do not want her

This is the dreadful woman; who solely gave me breath

But she was just the vessel and nothing more to me

The hatred that she showed me, I gave it in return

If she had been special, if she would have loved me

Maybe I’d be different, maybe I’d be saved

From the issue of resentment; I’d been more sensitive

When I learned leukemia has left her in a bed

That it raided her blood and to her bones was spreading

That she lays there in pain,’til in six months she’s dead

I was not made in love; her words are still ringing

In the memory of a child, not cherished on that day

But there was no remorse and there was no forgiveness

Just an empty void of the wall she built with hate

And yet today, more than thirty years later

I find myself wondering, if I should make amends

If I should repair, the link long ago broken

Restore the connection and tear down the fence

With many words unsaid, and the false pretenses

How do I accept, that she is not my friend?

She’s not even my mother but simply a stranger

Who gave me life once but wanted me dead

As I look in the mirror, I see her reflection

And touching my skin, it’s an extension of hers

For who I am and what I am was birthed from inside her

Though to this day she refuses to accept me as her own

Despite everything, there’s a corner of my heart

A place that is reserved especially for her

She may continue to loathe me, reject me; even hurt me

With her bitter words and denying my calls

But if I do not mend the bond that was broken

I am certain that her death will be my death after all

A large part of me will die and be buried in her grave

The sun will soon set and my love for her be lost

Priscilla's Story
copyright © 2009 by Ellie Kings
Note: spoken word piece
Art by Joe Hendry; 1st & 3rd painting
Art by Natalia Tejera; 2nd painting

Work in Progress

I don't speak much of my WIP, because there's really nothing to say.  The truth is it's taken me a few years to write it.  I started my novel three times now, without finishing the previous one.  I dare say, I am a little embarrassed to confess this to you pros.  It's okay, though.  I rather be embarrassed and get help than not get it at all.

I always thought it was crazy to even think I could actually write a book, let alone get published.  But whenever I've performed spoken word, many tend to ask if I'm a published author.  Which got me thinking that I really must have what it takes, or else they wouldn't be asking.  Then again, it is poetry and not a novel.

Regardless, I decided to give the novel a shot, because I couldn't stop thinking about it.  The second time around I felt I was actually getting somewhere, until my laptop was stolen and I hadn't backed up most of my work.  That's the day I cried for an hour, got angry at myself and the thief, tried to remember what I had written, but nothing... I couldn't get it back.  So I stopped working on the scraps of a book I thought was lost forever.  A year later, I met all of you.

God has a funny way of sending you little messages ... and you, my dear friends, are one of them.  I don't feel alone anymore. I've been writing the third version of the same book I started years ago.  This time I'll make sure to finish it, I promise.  NaNo was tempting, but my pace as you can see is much slower.  I didn't dare join this year like many of you dare-devils did.  I couldn't handle the pressure.  I'll still run the race just a different one.

With that said, I wanted to thank you all for being my informants, my teachers, my mentors, my motivational coaches, but most of all for being my inspiration.  I've taken your advice, rearranged priorities, and have diligently dived into this book.  I've even added a WIP meter to help me stay focused. 

Now that I put it all out there, I'm seeking help.  I'd appreciate any tips that are useful.  Keep in mind, I know nothing, except for the helpful things I've learned through your posts.
Thanks in advance.



*photo by flickr