Tag Archives: Lies

Fear, My Foe

My adversary
fueled by lies
half-truths
in disguise

You shan’t win
oh dreaded fear
if I hold truth
ever near

My devilish foe
all deceit
my Advocate
I’d have you meet

He is Truth
and the Way
You shan’t win
but perish this day

___________________________

I haven’t had much time for poetry lately because I’ve been working on my memoir and a book proposal to pitch the memoir to agents at a conference I’m attending in two weeks. But I was compelled today to make time for a Quadrille. It’s only 44 words, after all. And then to find that the word for today at dVerse Poets Pub‘s Quadrille Monday is fear. Can’t wait to see what others wrote on this topic that is dear to my heart.

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Hidden

Hidden pain buried deep
Terrible secrets to keep

You can never let anyone see

That’s the lie I once believed
Mired in fear my heart grieved

Truth set me free

_______________________________

Sharing for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub. Head over and read some other great poets.

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Pondering 1984

I’m a big fan of dystopian literature, like Brave New World by Aldous Huxley and 1984 by George Orwell. I don’t know what draws me to this kind of story of a society gone wrong while attempting to make everything perfect (at least for some).

I recently started rereading 1984 in an attempt to avoid writing. The parallels between the Party platform in Oceania and the platform of the pro-choice feminist movement of today are uncanny. The Party in Oceania stands on the three-pronged slogan: War Is Peace; Freedom Is Slavery; Ignorance Is Strength. Pro-choice feminists of today stand on the slogans: My Body, My Choice; Abortion Is Women’s Health.

The biggest problem for the pro-choice position is that they don’t have an engine like the Ministry of Truth to eliminate all the history and scientific facts that prove their slogans false.

Scientific facts prove an unborn child is not part of its mother’s body. It is a distinct human being with different DNA and sometimes different blood type of its mother.

History and her own writings prove that Margaret Sanger, the founder of Planned Parenthood, didn’t advocate for choice. She was a eugenicist whose goal was to eliminate potentially undesirable babies from the population through abortion and forced sterilization.

Pro-choice feminists can try to reframe the argument to be one of choice, but absent more than one option and information about all options, there is no real choice. When abortion is the only option, it’s not choice to choose it.

Mounting evidence reveals that abortion harms the women who have one, leading to depression, PTSD, suicide, infertility, and increased risk of breast cancer. Mounting evidence also reveals that sex traffickers and abusers often force their victims to have abortions against their will so that the abuser can continue their abuse.

I am thankful that there is no Ministry of Truth to erase the facts about abortion and its negative impact on women, men, and society as a whole. I am also thankful that we have the Truth, Jesus Christ, to help us fight the lies this world passes off as truth.

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I Do Not Care

I ponder often what is true
I do
Of what can’t be changed I dare
not care
Never desiring to stumble and fall
at all
Finding myself back to the wall
Life will be easier once I die
but I must confess this to be a lie
I do not care at all

________________

The lesson for a new poetic form is offered up at dVerse Poets Pub by Whimsygizmo today. It’s a fun Spanish form called the Ovillejo. I just had to give it a try. Head on over for the lesson and to read some wonderful poetry, some whimsical and some more serious, in this wonderful form.

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I Am a Reluctant Watchman

The Poetics prompt at dVerse Poets Pub today is offered by guest bartender Lynn. She is asking us to write about what the watchman sees. I decided to take my first line from the Isaiah verse she quoted, with a slight modification. This prompt was actually perfect for me this week as I’ve been writing more (in prose/essay form) about my personal experience with abortion. I’ve felt a little like the watchman, though a reluctant one.

I Am a Reluctant Watchman

Go set a watchman; let her announce what she’s seen
Declares the Lord our God
It’s not about me, knows the watchman, but where I’ve been

I don’t want to play watchman in our world today
I tell the Lord my God
It’s not about you, He replies, you must go this way

And so I speak the atrocities I’ve both seen and done
Trusting the Lord my God
Then I share the compassion of Jesus the Son

Murder I see and murder I’ve perpetrated
Grieving the Lord our God
For our own convenience children are daily terminated

Lies I was told and deception reigns supreme
Angering the Lord our God
I wish I could say this is only a horrible dream

But He’s set me a watchman to announce what I’ve seen
Glorifying the Lord my God
With the truth I learned when I was just seventeen

Choices made out of fear can never be undone
Whispers the Lord my God
But they can be forgiven by the grace Christ has won

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It’s Not about Women’s Health

I’ve been avoiding writing this blog post for about two weeks now, but I can’t avoid it any more. If this is truly going to be another fearless year, then I have to write fearlessly, even if that means getting into a difficult discussion with someone over a blog post.

The thing that finally pushed me to write this today was this article I read on the Eternal Perspective Ministries (EPM) website while I was eating my lunch. It is about the Planned Parenthood (PP) protest this past weekend in Portland, Oregon. There were 300 such peaceful protests across the nation, but this one happened to be where I live and where the headquarters of EPM is located.

I loved one of the pictures in this article because in addition to people holding a sign that says “Planned Parenthood Kills Babies” there were others holding a sign that says “Planned Parenthood Deceives Women.” As I’ve written before, although I am saddened by the culture of death and the many murdered children at the hands of PP, my heart is with the many women who have had abortions and lived to regret that decision. Many of those women, like me, were deceived by PP and are also victims.

The pro-choice voice claims that the right of a woman to have an abortion is a women’s health issue and that PP is about women’s health. These claims couldn’t be further from the truth. Pregnancy is not a disease that needs to be treated or cured. It is not healthy for a woman to have an abortion. In fact, having an abortion increases a woman’s risk of major depression and suicidal tendencies by 30% to 40%, it increased the risk of breast cancer by 30%, and it increases the risk of future miscarriage.

But it was my experience that PP didn’t disclose any of those risks. I didn’t find out about them until after I’d suffered with seven years of major clinical depression (following many years of low-grade depression), been suicidal, and had a miscarriage. So far I haven’t also gotten breast cancer, but with my family history of this disease, I certainly did not need to increase my risk.

The “health care providers” at PP were not concerned with my health; they were concerned only with getting my money. They weren’t concerned with who the father was or the fact that he had been an older man who raped a teenage girl; they didn’t even ask. They didn’t provide any pre- or post-abortion counseling, they didn’t advise me of the health risks of having an abortion, and they didn’t even schedule a follow-up visit. What doctor doesn’t schedule a follow-up visit after an invasive medical procedure?

I left the PP clinic that day, headed off to a Future Business Leaders of America camp, and bled so much that I thought I was going to die. (In fact, when I bled that much after my miscarriage years later, the emergency room rushed me back to an exam room without even checking in first—that’s how serious that kind of bleeding can be.) But PP didn’t warn me about this possibility or tell me what to do if it did happen. I was a scared 17-year-old with no one looking out for my health—PP certainly wasn’t.

Tell me you think a woman has a right to choose to kill her own baby—if you think that’s a defensible position—but don’t tell me that right is a women’s health issue. It quite simply is not.

If you want to champion women’s health, then help women find the spiritual and emotional health to deal honestly with a pregnancy they don’t want. Help them understand that whatever the circumstances that led to their pregnancy, God loves them and their child. There are options, including adoption, which are far healthier for them—and definitely healthier for their baby. What finally got me healthy after the trauma of being raped and having an abortion was the love of Jesus. I only wish someone had helped me find that love before it was too late for my child.

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Eucalyptus on the Wind

The scent of eucalyptus calms me, brings me a sense of peace and tranquility. Essential oils enthusiasts say it’s supposed to be energizing, but it doesn’t have that effect on me.

Growing up in Southern California, I lived one block off the main drag into Ramona and that main drag was lined with towering eucalyptus trees. I don’t recall actually smelling the trees then and I’m sure the fact that they gave off such a wonderful odor didn’t register in my childish brain. But now the scent brings me back to that idyllic time in my life.

It was a time of bicycle rides on dusty dirt roads to the library or to a friends, mud pies and Easy Bake oven cakes, and swimming in the above-ground pool in the back yard. Those were the days of hamsters and sunshine and warm Santa Ana winds, of forgetting my jacket at school because it was so warm by the end of the day that I didn’t need it, even in the middle of winter. They were the days of arranging all my stuffed animals into jump-rope pens like I was a zookeeper.

To be sure, all was not perfect then. There was the kid down the street who teased me relentlessly. There was my sister who yelled at me a lot, and hated purple simply because it was my favorite color.

My sister was a big part of my life then. I always refer to her as “my sister,” as if I only have one. I have three sisters, but Berta was closest to me in age, just three years older, and the only one I remember living in the same house with. I have a brother, too, who is 17 years older than me. I usually refer to him as “my brother Tom.” I’m not sure why he and my sister Peggy and my sister Suz always get their names added, and Berta is just “my sister,” but that’s the way it is.

Objectively speaking, life was good.

But I did learn some things during those early years that stuck with me through much of my adult life.

I learned that cancer sucks. Twice my mom went into the hospital with cancer, once with breast cancer (which her sister had died of) and once with uterine cancer.

The first time, I was allowed into her room and ate her Jello so she could come home sooner. The second time, they put her in the maternity ward because the cancer ward was full. Kids weren’t allowed in the maternity ward, so I had to stay alone in the waiting room. And I worried. But she survived both bouts with the dreaded disease, which did get her in the end, but that’s a story for another chapter.

Another thing I learned was that books are the best things ever. Every other week I would ride my banana-seat bike to the library, fill my handle-bar basket with books, and head back home past the eucalyptus trees to hole-up in my room and read. I spent a lot of time in my room reading even when the sun was out (which, frankly, was most of the time). When my two-week check-out was up, I’d head back to the library. To this day I am dangerous in a bookstore because I can’t seem to walk out empty-handed. (I gave up on libraries several years ago because I would forget to return the books and have to pay fines for overdue books. It killed me to pay the library for a book I couldn’t keep.)

I learned that saving money is a crock. One year my parents gave my sister and me $10 a week allowance. We would drive down to the Savings and Loan every week with our personal passbooks and deposit half our money in the bank. I thought I was saving for whatever I might want some day—some big ticket item that I otherwise wouldn’t be able to get or maybe just a bunch of books. Then one day my dad drove us to the Savings and Loan and had us withdraw all our money for the family vacation. I didn’t even want to go on vacation and have to ride in the back with my sister. It was a long time before I learned the value of saving money or felt in control of the money I saved.

I learned that fresh vegetable are delicious and canned ones are disgusting. But that growing fresh vegetables is hard work. We had a garden that spanned the whole width of our half-acre lot. We grew green beans, carrots, radishes, cucumbers (and dill), tomatoes, and more. We ate canned vegetables sometimes when the fresh ones were gone, but to this day I can’t eat canned peas or green beans.

But most important to my story is that I learned no one wanted to hear me cry. When I was little, I had a temper like a small hurricane. I didn’t like to be teased and would become angry and cry if anyone teased me. I was always told, “Go to your room and cry. No one wants to hear you crying.” So I did.

But the temper tantrum didn’t end there. You see, the way our house was designed, my bedroom was, I think, supposed to be a family room. It had two doors opposite one another so that it functioned as a hallway between the dining room and the back hallway where the bathroom and other bedrooms were. When I was sent to my room, I would run into the room and slam one of these two doors. Because of some principle of physics that I don’t even remotely understand, the door would not completely close and the slamming would cause the other door to fly open and hit the closet. So then I would run over and slam that door, with the same result, until my mom yelled, “Quit slamming those G** damned doors!”

The belief that no one wanted to hear me cry or to witness my temper tantrums stuck with me for a long time. The way I’ve always interpreted that statement is that no one cares how I feel. When bad things happened to me later in life, I told no one because I didn’t think they would care. When I was the most depressed, I kept it a secret because I was ashamed of feeling so bad and didn’t want to waste anyone’s time.

It turns out that many of the things we learn as kids just aren’t true.

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Darkness to Light – Take Two

The prompt over at dVerse Poets Pub today is to think of our words as seeds and to consider what we want to grow from what we write. I decided to share a revised version of a poem I wrote almost three years ago. I recently submitted the original version to a poetry contest, and although I did not make it into the final round I received some great feedback, so I decided to incorporate that feedback into this version.

What I hope will grow from these seeds are encouragement, hope, and faith for at least one person who is struggling today with the darkness of depression.

Darkness to Light—Take Two

Darkness surrounded me
Darkness invaded my mind
Darkness enveloped my barren soul

In the darkness
The evil one whispered
Thoughts that seemed my own
They’d be blessed without me
It would be better if I was dead

Tears drowned me
Tears flooded my mind
Tears drenched my barren soul

Through the tears
The evil one whispered
Thoughts I believed were true
I am broken beyond repair
These tears will never end

Pain ensnared me
Pain clouded my mind
Pain threatened my barren soul

Amplifying the pain
The evil one whispered
Thoughts I was powerless to deny
This pain will forever cripple me
I will never know joy

Then God’s Light
Pierced the darkness
Illuminating my soul
Revealing the sin in my mind
Proclaiming the way for me

Forgive Jesus whispered
As I’ve forgiven you
Your darkness will subside
His words are true

Then God’s Love
Dried all my tears
Infusing my soul with joy
Clarifying truth in my mind
Declaring healing for me

Live Jesus whispered
As I live in you
Your tears will be dried
His words are true

Then God’s Truth
Erased my pain
Protecting my soul
Clearing lies from my mind
Redeeming my life for me

Love Jesus whispered
As I forever love you
Your pain will be decried
His words are true

Darkness, tears, and pain
Replaced by my Savior’s
Light, Love, and Truth
Holding me forevermore
He is my Light

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Where Is Honesty? – A Poem

For a variety of reasons, including hearing the songs Honesty by Billy Joel and Grounded by The O.C. Supertones in the past week, the subject of honesty has been on my mind lately. (Click the links if you want to hear either of these songs on YouTube.)

This is my offering for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub today. You can head over and check out some other great poetry, too, if you like.

Where Is Honesty?

David cried out to God, saying
“And in my dismay I said,
‘All men are liars.'”
But still he trusted in the Lord.

Jesus said Satan
is the father of lies
there is no truth in him.
If we deny we have sinned
there is no truth in us.

Billy Joel sang
“Honesty is such a lonely word.
Everyone is so untrue.
You can have the love you need to live.
But if you look for truthfulness
You might just as well be blind.”

The O.C. Supertones warn there’s
“No truth in a world
that is randomized.
Expose the lies
no matter how they’re disguised.”

We hear lies on TV,
everywhere we turn.
We lie to God
and to ourselves.
We plan our lies –
“If she asks, I’ll say . . .”

Say what?
Why not the truth?
The truth hurts, they say.
But lies hurt more
and the healing takes much longer.

Sometimes it takes a lifetime
to find the honesty
our hearts so desperately need.

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Don’t Believe the Father of Lies

During our recent camping vacation I was determined to finish book two of the Chronicles of Brothers series, but I didn’t quite make it. I came home with about 60 pages to go. Once home it is always harder to find time to read, but I did manage to finish the book last week.

Now I have book three to start, book four comes out in November, and then there are apparently three more books after that. I am hoping this isn’t one of those series that starts off great but tries to drag the story out too long.

But at any rate, I came across a section of book two, Messiah – The First Judgment, that got me thinking. It is a scene that takes place in hell as Lucifer, now fallen after his rebellion in heaven, gloats over the lost souls of men marching through the gates.

One woman moved out of the rank and file; she fell to the ground, clawing at the burning dirt beneath her hands. “They lied!” She stared up at Lucifer, shaking uncontrollably in horror. “They told me you were a fable, a fairy-tale king of the damned.”

She scrabbled up, desperately clutching at Lucifer’s robe. Two of Dagon’s fallen horde savagely manhandled her and kicked her to the ground, where she lay sobbing dementedly.

Lucifer wielded his cat-o’-nine panther tails; a slow satisfied smile spread across his face. “This brings me joy, Marduk,” he said . . . “It exceeds my highest expectations. The whole of their lives on Earth, they think I am a fable, a figment of their imagination.” He stared down at the demented woman on the ground, tearing at her hair and skin. “They lose their minds when they arrive here and discover that I am more real than they of flesh and blood. It is great sport.”
Messiah – The First Judgment, pg. 276-277.

Although this book certainly includes a great deal of the author’s imagination and a bit of fiction, the underlying truth of this passage is supported by scripture.

There are many Christians – those like Rob Bell – who refuse to believe in the existence of the devil and of hell. But if one chooses to believe in the whole of scripture, then one must believe that the evil one exists and that his greatest aim is to accuse and derail mankind. Speaking of the fallen Lucifer, Jesus said,

You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father’s desire. He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies. John 8:44 (NIV).

The “fact” that he does not exist is one of the greatest lies the devil has ever perpetrated on mankind. That we can be our own god is another lie that many believe.

I suppose there are those who will think I am crazy for believing that the devil exists; but I believe there is much beyond the realm of our five senses, those things and beings in the spiritual realms, that we don’t fully understand. I choose to believe what scripture teaches about the spiritual realm and to trust in the truth of Jesus and His saving grace that will keep me safe. I choose not to believe the father of lies and of death, but to instead believe He who is called the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

Since it is Music Monday, I thought I’d add a song video to go along with this. I decided on Wrong Way by Creed from their Human Clay album. It seemed appropriate since the devil tries very hard to tell us the wrong way to live. My favorite verse of this song is when it says:

What if I died?
What did I give?
I hope it was an answer so you might live
I hope I helped you live

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