Poem: TRUST (it’s a must) :)

He looked down upon her, and shook his head.

How could she not see the joy her actions had led?

How could she be frustrated, with all the joy up here?

The angel then realized that she hadn’t attuned the correct ear.

How could she be frustrated that she was not making a profit on earth,

If all of her actions led to things of eternal worth?

The angel descended and spoke through a friend.

All she needed was encouragement to defend.

The Enemy would not get his girl today,

With all the others fighting for her to keep the enemy at bay!

The girl picked up her armor which had fallen out of her hand.

She then saw what was happening, and against the devil she took a stand.

“I am okay if I don’t meet my goals,” she proclaimed.

“I have made progress, and it is by God I am claimed!

“I have been working and trying, and that was the goal.

“I can’t beat myself up because of what I can’t control!”

The angel above her smiled to the skies.

She had finally cleared her head of all the worthless lies.

“I am good enough, and I am doing this right!”

The girl shook a fist as she started to write.

“Why am I looking for my worth in money?

“As if I don’t know God? That’s funny.

“But I am his child, and he calls me a masterpiece.

“One day I will see and know how it fits, this piece.”

The girl down on Earth shook her head.

She was doing all she could in her stead.

She couldn’t control what other people did;

That was on them and herself she kid.

Only God could do something where she could not.

She should be speaking with him instead of feeling distraught!

//

The author of this poem looks through the words and into your eyes.

Are you, too, guilty of believing these lies?

Are you distressed by something you cannot control?

As if, on your own, you can change the public opinion poll?

Here is the solution, for all your troubles (it’s broad):

TRUST IN GOD.

You have to make a decision before you solve a problem.

If the decision is to trust God, it’s awesome.

Then it doesn’t matter what the solution may be;

It’ll work out later because you trusted in He.

These are the things I’ve been learning lately.

And I, the girl of the poem, have been moved by this greatly!

I try and try and try, but without God, my attempts are futile.

Pretty soon, all this work and self-reliance is brutal.

So trust in God, I shout it to the skies.

I hear it come back to me, my pleading cries.

Because I’m the one who needs to hear it.

And that is why for myself, this poem, I’ve writ.

//

Anna E Meyer

Poem: GOD Brings Success

Goals and expectations, I set them.

When they pop into my head, I take hold.

I try my best to meet each one,

Forgetting who really controls.

When I fail to meet my mark—

The one that I decided and I set—

Feeling like a failure, I cry.

But I am my biggest threat.

Why do I try these things myself?

As if, by doing more and more, I win?

I surrendered these things yesterday,

But today, I’ve lost before I begin.

“Those who don’t do can’t succeed,”

I hear it over and over again.

But all this focus on “me”?

It causes struggle now and then.

I can’t do anything on my own.

I know this to be true!

Which is why I need God’s help;

And he ALWAYS comes through!

We aren’t supposed to live the Christian life ourselves;

It’s only possible with Christ in us.

So why should I succeed myself?

This is what we need to discuss.

“May I never boast except in the cross,”

The Galatians are told by Paul.

We could never save ourselves,

Nevertheless with success, which makes us fall!

But when I give it back to God?

I let him do his work through me?

Then I am not the one glorified.

It is CHRIST, do you agree?

So may I fail when I try myself,

Because it shows my weakness.

But in my weakness, Christ is made strong.

And in HIS strength, we’ll joyfully confess:

To HIM be the glory forever and ever,

Amen!

Depression, MS, and Wit in a Poem

It tiptoes into peripheral sight,
And stays to take away the light.  
The darkness makes its home there;
Until you realize you were unaware.  

But I didn’t notice this until
I found myself climbing up the hill!
The flat and happy ground was green,
But this hill is dry and brown and mean.

Depression sneaks up to the unsuspecting;
It makes one think they are the one rejecting.  

It causes feelings that don’t belong,
It places monotone where there once was song.
This hemeola of emotions, this fighting of sorts
Leads to modulation that’s unwelcome, of course!

One day I’ll be down, and the next snap out of it.
It’s like this other unpredictable disease a bit.  
Depression is a symptom of MS, as well.  
Which is just my luck– but I won’t dwell!  

If it gets bad enough I’ll go see my doc.
But coming out myself wouldn’t be a shock.
Just like everything else I’ve been given,
I’m too busy to notice it–I’m livin’!  

So before you go and hand me your pity,
Allow me to give you an answer that’s wity:
I may not be from Mississippi, have a master’s degree or be a medical specialist,
But I AM Mega Smart, Mighty Sarcastic, and Marvelously Sweet.  
Just ask my sister mom husband. (We still qualify as “newlyweds.”) 

What MS Does To Me, a poem of realness and hope

Written 8-22-12, Anna Olson

 

My fingers get so tired, doing what I want to.  What else, then, can I do?  I think I’ll run to you.

No piano or pen can I hold or play.  What then, can my heart say?  I think I’ll simply pray.

 

I’m running only figuratively for all know I can’t be literal.

But I can look to you and see your hand, if only in my peripheral.

You, Lord, are my strength, my portion, my mineral.

You lift me up, this I know; it’s scriptural.

 

My body is exhausted, walking and doing what I must.  Where then, can I find gust? I think I’ll trust.

No distance can I go without struggle.  Where then, can I scuttle?  I think I’ll be humble.

 

I trust you with my life as much as I’m able.

Sometimes I take back, but you, Lord, are stable.

I seek your truth, which is much more than a fable.

It is you why I keep going; you’re my power cable.

 

I am so scared, for unpredictable is this disease.  Who then, can relieve?  I’ll always believe.

Nothing of my body can I know what is to come.  Who then, knows all and then some?  I’ll always succumb.

 

I hold fast to you, Lord, for you are perfect in all your ways.

My God, you are so good and me you always amaze.

I will raise your name above all else for all of my days.

I live to glorify you, Father, and to bring you praise.

What is this “patience” you speak of?

Patience?  What is THAT?  I thought I’d been learning to be patient.  And I have been patient…in SOME areas of my life.  It’s funny how history repeats itself, isn’t it?  The history of the human heart?  Perhaps that is another reason the Bible is such a great how-to guide.  I’ve been writing “My Psalms” for a few years now (when I say a few, I mean, like, seven).  When I look back on some of them, I can’t believe how close they relate to a present situation.  Why write new ones when I said what I wanted to say well before?  I feel it’s getting that way with some of my blog posts, as well.

Therefore, let me re-blog to you, a post I wrote almost a year ago.  Let me catch you back up where I was then?  In Milwaukee, on a summer missions project.  God really got ahold of me there and spoke to me in areas I’d kind of been ignoring him in the past.  I worry, a lot.  I don’t always have much patience.  BUT, God is patient with me, and continues to remind me that I need to be patient and not worry so much about things that aren’t even in my control.

“Don’t Worry,” re-blog <– click on this.  You should.  ‘Cuz it’s why I wanted to write this “prologue” of sorts.

My sight is set on you, oh Lord, let nothing interfere.

I pray that you are all I seek, that nothing else appears.

You, Lord, make me happy, and I need nothing more.

I want you to help me find me, down to my core.

I trust in you, oh Lord my God, I pray that it is so.

Only you can comfort me, giving me peace where e’er I go.

Your word is my light, so I will never lose my way.

I look only to you for guidance, day after day.

Lord, I place all trust in you, you are my perfect God.

You are my lover, my father, my best friend—we’re like two peas in a pod.

God, I’ve said before that all I am is yours.

Help me to remember it, for in you life soars!

What looks impossible for us is just right for you.

Help me to find patience, Lord, and to keep hearing your words so true!

“He got this,” the minister said in church this morning; “He got wha’ chew need!”

I got you, God, and you are indeed ALL I need!

–Anna Olson, July 7, 2011

Smiling with a constant trust (even when I’m not sure where that’s coming from), Anna =)^2

My Abbreve Psalm

Written 3-27-12, Anna Olson

 

My God is strong and mighty to save.

Of all the peeps I talk with, he’s my fav.

My Heavenly Father answers me totes def.

Sometimes it’s a no, but sometimes it’s a yep.

The Spirit gives me patience to wait upon the Lord.

But even while I’m waiting, I’m def not bored!

My Jesus rocks my socks off with all his wondrous deeds.

He even promises in Philippians 4:19 to supply all my needs.

My Redeemer teaches me something new almost every day.

I dive into the Word to hear what he’s telling me today.

Sometimes I don’t hear him, but sometimes I totes do.

‘Cuz everything he tells me, is totes def true.

God’s perf. character is shown throughout scripture.

It’s def totes cool to get a supes awes picture.

My Refuge protects me, when inapprops I’m scared.

My King is the best ev; no one can compare.

My Comforter I run to when something’s totes wrong.

My Advocate I turn to as I rej in song!

My Lord, he def and always understands me.

Even in abbreves, this poem makes him happy.  =)

The Narrow Path

Our life follows a big road map.  We can’t see it, but God; he knows where we’re at.  He also knows where we’re headed, and whether it’s ideal or dreaded.  But don’t worry, he is ready to show the detour we need to get back; we just need to trust him and relax.

I find myself at times on the interstate; I am going way to fast to even debate if this is right.  When I finally slow down enough to question, I realize I’m following the wrong procession.  This isn’t the path that Jesus says to follow; it’s the fast lane to the suffering hollow, the place that’s lower than the rest, where no rest is found, only the stressed and depressed who always frowned and eventually drowned.  The path that Jesus paved is narrow, not wide; it’s hard to find when it’s been so long cast aside.  It’s a service road, one that helps carry another’s load.  It doesn’t think in terms of who owes, it thinks in terms of love that flows.  It is a path of suffering; on this road you’ll find no bumpers or buffering.  This single-lane road is expensive; the cost you’ll find is intensive.  It’s a road called “Spendy Street,” but still, being on this road is pretty sweet.

Why take this road, if it’s so difficult?  If on this road you’ll receive insult?  What is the result?  Why, this is the road that Jesus took, and even though on it his friends all forsook, it is the only path that led to victory, not here on this earth, but in eternity.  Some say they want to be more like Jesus, but they abandon this road for what pleases.  Being like Jesus should be a goal in the Christian life, even if we find ourselves in the midst of strife.  We are Christ’s wife and should remember our identity.  In him we find life and complete serenity.

 

“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it.  But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” (Matthew 7:13-14)

 

 

Anna =)^2

Saturday Smiley: Cars

One car, two car, red car, blue car.  Slow car, no car, fast car, NASCAR.  Cars on the highway, cars in the driveway, cars going no way, cars out all day.  Road trip, day trip, far trip, no trip. Rest stop, shop stop, red stop, pit stop.  One car, two car, red car, blue car.

Some collect, some race.  It is a tool of transportation that gets people from place to place.  Fancy or simple, new or old; a car is a car, no matter the mold.  Some take it for granted, some see it as pride.  There are cars everywhere, in our land that is so wide.  Nothing is close together, in the Midwest of my home.  There are acres and acres of farmland, so it is easy to roam.  I get lost a lot, I admit I do.  But I call and get directions from (usually) my mom, it’s true.  Anywhere I am, she can look it up.  She’ll lead back to the road I missed, which is really handy.

There are many types of automobiles, and each have different appeals.  Trucks are cool and can be bigger than you think; they are handy on a farm but are never paired with pink.  Minivans are great, especially if a family is involved; ours now even has swivel seats—look how much they’ve evolved!  Cars seem to be most common, but there is so much diversity.  Name a make, style, and color, and still you’ll get differences…like, at least thirty.  There are the small sporty ones, and the heavier-looking other ones.  There are classic cars and cars for the starts, they are really small mini-cars and really fast racing cars.  There are different brands and different makes.  There are beat-up cars with rust, and beat-up cars without breaks.  A car is taken care of, because it makes things difficult if not.  A car likes a full stomach and working parts, or else it’ll give you its snot.

One car, two car, red car, blue car.  Slow car, no car, fast car, NASCAR.  Cars on the highway, cars in the driveway, cars going no way, cars out all day.  Road trip, day trip, far trip, no trip. Rest stop, shop stop, red stop, pit stop.  One car, two car, red car, blue car.

 

Smiling always, Anna =)^2

The Story of the Flabble (Remix)

So, I didn’t think the first flabble story was super-greatly written.  So I did one that made me feel better about myself.  I hope you like it!  -Anna =)^2

.

Once, living upon an island of which you’ve never heard,

There was a flabble named Lusah with vibrant black hair and wings of a bird.

With feet webbed and hairy, she could glow as well as fly.

But that’s not all—she could at will also change her size.

The village of flabbles was referred to as an eiair.

Life was pleasant, with no dangers to fear.

Lusah lived in an iloe, as flabbles do.

She had a pet yellek who could fly, too.

When she would go outside to give her yellek exercise,

She would ride upon his back so she’d change her self size.

She would go into work and make connections between ibemes.

Every flabble had one, except for the older who hadn’t caught on to new things.

She would eat ralkrs and yelleks when hers wasn’t looking.

One of her strengths, as it turned out, was not cooking.

All of the flabbles did the same thing every day.

No one would get bored—life was just that way!

But one day, as Lusah took her yellek out to fly,

She paused for a moment and wondered “why?”

Why were all the flabbles content with life the same?

Didn’t anybody wonder what would happen if it were to change?

So Lusah DIDN’T connect all the ibemes at work,

And she DIDN’T eat her ralkrs but instead held a smirk.

Soon, others started asking her what was wrong.

When she’d fly or ride on her yellek, she’d be out extra long!

So she aroused the questions in their minds, too.

“Why are we flabbles content with what we do?”

It didn’t take long before the other flabbles sharted changing.

All of their doings, they started re-arranging!

Soon, all the flabbles were having a lot more fun,

And the entire eiair was wondering why this was the first time something had been done!

 

The moral of this story is to keep life interesting.

Don’t lose yourself in boringness but strive for smiley glimmering!