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Jun 2017 · 2.1k
Jehovah Jireh
Joelle McCook Jun 2017
Jehovah Jireh is more than just a name,
More than just a collection of letters,
More than a generous God who doles out gifts and things,
Jehovah Jireh is a place,
It is a place where we see emptiness,
But God sees opportunity
It is a place where God fills the gap in our lives.

God introduced himself to Abraham as Jehovah Jireh
As he was preparing to make the ultimate sacrifice - his son.
In the same way, God takes us to a place
Where we are willing to strip ourselves
of our most valued possession,
Then says,"Stop!
You don't have to do it, I just needed to know that you would. "

Then Jehovah Jireh provided a lamb
It wasn't just a lamb - something tangible
Something you hold, see, feel.
Jehovah Jireh provided a way
A way to get to closer
A way that was an acceptable sacrifice to reach the Almighty God.

Jehovah Jireh is a bridge,
The bridge to faith and trust
The bridge that takes us from the
place of
Uncertainty and doubt.

Jehovah Jireh
Our provider
Povides more than just things
He provides  a place
A lamb,
A bridge
A way,
A way out of our distress
A way out of our confusion,
A way to Him
A way to live.
Joelle McCook May 2017
Even in the cold, ice melts, in time
Making me question if time is the only thing
that melts the ice.
But at the same time, things need to change
For things to change. So
Maybe the changing factor isn't only time,
But the result of the changing times.
But... Did the time grow warmer ?
Or did it stay the same while other things changed,
Thus causing the change in times.
Did we really cause the change through our continuous constant
Or was it predestined, inevitable, bound to happen.
       - to deteriorate through time,
        is it just the time to melt?
May 2017 · 861
Just 30
Joelle McCook May 2017
I would never be in the crowd
that killed Him
Or am I just blinded by my own self -righteousness

But then ...
looking down I see the hammer in my hands
I nailed him there
I notice the spear that I cling to with a death - grip
I pierced His side,

I can't count how many times
I've stabbed Him in the back with my actions
Whipped Him with my lies
Chose petty pleasures over
Everlasting love

I sold the only thing that was worth anything
Just to be comforted by cold, unfeeling metal
30 pieces - just 30
When He is worth so much more

It's not about how worthy we are,
But rather how amazing He is
How forgiving He is

So now with opened eyes,
I see
That He has taken the weapons out of my hands
He embraces me with his love,
Saying that
"It's alright, you didn't know what you were doing
I forgive you, I love you
I knew the cost and I still chose you.
I'll always choose you."
Oct 2015 · 575
Empty Molds
Joelle McCook Oct 2015
The Century is dead
      Lifeless remains for all to see
Death is entombed in nature's head
      The howling air wails in it's flee
The lifeblood no longer flows
       It's primordial spring gushed with its essence
Now sapped, arid, bare, a barren hose
      We, now bodies, echo hope's absence.
This is my reworded version of Thomas Hardy's second stanza in his poem, " The Darkling Thrush"
Hope you liked it ( I don't normally do rhymes but I tried)
Oct 2015 · 348
FIVE LETTERS
Joelle McCook Oct 2015
It's hard to explain the surreal complexity
The majestic power that comes together through the form
Of five letters that create the identity of true love.

Even at this moment as I rattle my mind to try to express
This unfathomable, unfailing, all powerful, unending love...
I realize that my vocabulary is not vast enough -
But neither is the dictionary's -
Because mere words are not sufficient to explain the five letters that create love's anatomy.

J - Just as how staring at the sun leaves a lingering image, even the thought of this limitless mercy burns an imprint on the retinas of my soul.

E - Every part of my being trembles at how much He sacrificed for me to just be alive
And He still wants me,
Bare, unworthy, unsweetened, raw and not cut into the easy - to - swallow mold of this world that He knows is too small and too tight for me to fit in.

S - Still He gives me, who is just a spec that was chosen, permission to use His identity to solve the problems of my world, from seeking healing to finding my favourite pen.

U -Ultimately unlike anything my existence has experienced, He graces me with His presence and wants me to live in that coat of warmth.
To bask in the light of the son of man, the gift that sustains and saves us.

S -Strangely through Him I become worthy of even thinking of Him, of having a relationship with Him, of being in love with Him, because He is love.


Checking my mental dictionary again, I find that I already knew the answer to the question of what defines love.

And simply five letters appear ...
J - E - S - U -S. ❤️
This one is really dear to me because I'm not taking on a persona with problems to fix / recognize, but rather this is about my personal experience with th the only true problem -solver. I really hope it really inspired you to evaluate who Jesus is to to you and if you don't know Him I hope it makes you want to learn because He is the only reason I have confidence to write, to love, to live, to seek joy, peace and security. I hope you find your home in Him. I love you all.
Joelle McCook May 2015
One : night
Two : drinks
Three : words, I love you

One : morning after pill
Two : times no period
Three : words, not my child

They all say, just get it taken care of
And by get it taken care of
They don't mean to care for it,
But to get rid of it / her / him...
Me

Time ticks faster
The stares linger
Longer
Judging eyes gawk at one
But sees two
Wagging tongues race to spread
Their supposed never - ending knowledge of my story
Faster
Forcing me to embrace the shame
Like a coat to warm my growing belly
Growing
Growing life
Replacing life
Demanding my four-year-plan to master a disappearing act

Just like mother
Listening to lust-filled lies of love
Love that won't help me
Love that mocks me
Love that scorns the ground
that I trudge my heavy laden body of two
To The Women's Centre
Love that can't take me back to my high school
Love that won't pay for it's future/ her future/ his future
My future
Just like father
My coat of shame gets heavier on my stretched skin
Thick skin
Strong skin
Strong enough to balance the weight of their laughter
Their mocking
Their unsaid words
Her laughter
Her mocking
Her unsaid words
Her sharp curses
I can still hear mother's booming voice,
slashing my soul with her words,
"Yuh dutty *****, yuh !
Afta ah *** use ma good-up, good- up money
Send yuh ah school
Yuh ah waste yuh time wit maangy-foot bwoy.
If yuh cyan spread yuh legs like big, big 'ooman
Den yuh cyan live like one big 'ooman.
*** outta mi 'ouse !"

With no finances on my own
I crawl to a new home
To shelter my wary young bones
Begging for the warmth inside
My belly, my heart
Craving the warmth outside
On my skin - our skin.
Just a hug, a smile, an un-judging glance
But all I get is surrounding walls of young girls
Cemented with ridicule
Finding my brief safe haven in the depths of kind eyes
Sharing
Helping
Warning
They say you might get sick
They say you could die
They say I might get sick
They say I could die
They say the mortality rate is higher
Because the age is lower
Will we survive?
Survive the pain of growing
Survive the pain of coming outside our wombs
Survive the looks, the talk, the lack

One : cry
Two : undone hearts
Three : steps trudged forward
Finally did the revised one- not much change
May 2015 · 547
Descent
Joelle McCook May 2015
Five ...
My body instinctively moves
To the sway of the wind's rhythm
Swinging to the right, left, right...
Swaying, bending, flailing, falling
To the dance of death


Four...
Finally the sweet taste of freedom
Longingly lingers on the crevices of my mind
As I am dragged from the airy convulsion of my body
To slash the splashing surface of slurping waves
With my death partner -
Brother - tied by the neck -
Connected by the root
Staring unseeingly at at the rising sun of liberty
With the last image of *******
Still reflecting in his milky grey eyeballs,
No longer bursting with the dark essence of life

Three ...
The wind gently lowers me
To the soft edges of salvation
As my eyes are glued to the sun
As if to erase the haughty, mocking glare
Of the white devils
My bright screen of light
With the beautifully blinding colours of the sky
Whispering, "Africa"
And producing images of life
Of my family
Of my food
Of my home
Of my life,
Before...


Two ...
My body rushes to embrace
The heavy, yet comforting hug of my sunset
A smile, unused for months, etched deep into my face
As the waves of mermaids wetly kiss
The slashes, wounds and br- br-bruises
That decorate my body
No more
No more suffocating in seas of bodies
Packed into the boat of death
I will breathe
As water fills my body with the air of freedom.


One ...
More second, to...
Joelle McCook May 2015
The beauty of the ocean
Swallows up my sensibility
As I stare at vast nothingness
I am transported to the question of the horizon
Still undecided in the line of my emotions
I feel the different shades of my being
Smashed at this meeting point
Shoved into two boxes of air.
May 2015 · 375
RIGHT NOW
Joelle McCook May 2015
The fraying unfinished ribbons of our lifeline
Try desperately to connect
To tie
To choke
To squeeze the love out of each other
Scarring, marking, claiming the right place with the wrong squeeze.

We try to decorate this sphere
With the glistening satin of our ribbons
Embracing the piercing glare of shimmering light
Circling, twisting, spinning around the linkage of
The ribbons before in the fabric of now.

Reaching
Inside the
Great
Heights of depth
To satiate the
Need for
Our voiceless
Words.
RIGHT NOW.
Oct 2014 · 290
The Depth of thoughts
Joelle McCook Oct 2014
The wide sea of my
                              Brain does not seem to swallow
                                        As well as I want.
It's my first haiku
Joelle McCook Oct 2014
I'm wearing a straight jacket all over
As my fashion statement
My body got the memo early
That the world wouldn't be able to handle my movement
So it doesn't move...
Just so that the world doesn't explode from my
Awesomeness
Eyes are glued to me
Like gum to my wheelchair
Because I'm fiercer than Beyoncé

Some have the audacity to try to berate me
Thinking that I'm lesser because
I don't succumb to the filth of the floor
I won't descend to that level
My feet weren't made to stand on this world
God knew that only the best would do
This world isn't ready for my Heavenly struts
Rihanna ain't got nothing on me

I refuse to accept my situation as a prison sentence
My heavy skin isn't my prison warden
It's my accessory for my outfit
Even though I'm rolling here
I'll not only be walking,
I'll be soaring in Heaven

So you don't have to give me your discount pity
I take cash

You may call me a handicap
But I call myself a Princess
Who can only walk on golden roads.
I was just trying to think of how it would feel to be paralysed, but I didn't want to write anything depressing. I wanted to inspire someone to rise from their situation and to love life. Also to understand that God made you amazingly-beautiful, no matter your circumstances. You're fierce in God's eyes and mine.
:)
I love you all
Oct 2014 · 554
The Loneliness of Two
Joelle McCook Oct 2014
One : night
Two : drinks
Three : words, I love you

One : morning after pill
Two : times no period
Three : words, not my child

They all say, just get it taken care of
And by get it taken care of
They don't mean to care for it,
But to get rid of it / her / him...
Me

Time ticks faster
The stares linger
Longer
Judging eyes gawk at one
But sees two
Wagging tongues race to spread
Their supposed never - ending knowledge of my story
Faster
Forcing me to embrace the shame
Like a coat to warm my growing belly
Growing
Growing life
Replacing life
Demanding my four-year-plan to master a disappearing act

Just like mother
Listening to lust-filled lies of love
Love that won't help me
Love that mocks me
Love that scorns the ground
that I trudge my heavy laden body of two
To The Women's Centre
Love that can't take me back to my high school
Love that won't pay for it's future/ his future/ her future
My future
Just like father
My coat of shame gets heavier on my stretched skin


They say you might get sick
They say you could die
They say I might get sick
They say I could die
They say the mortality rate is higher
Because the age is lower
Will we survive?
Survive the pain of growing
Survive the pain of coming outside our wombs(shelter)
Survive the looks, the talks, the lack


One : cry
Two : undone hearts
Three : steps trudged forward
This poem is based on some of the  challenges that teenage mothers face during their time of pregnancy.
( I might do a revised version of it ... Maybe)
Oct 2014 · 460
Beautifully Black
Joelle McCook Oct 2014
What colour is beautiful ?
        
         Beauty is a kaleidoscope, yet black is
         the ostracized shade.
         My skin is like a stretched canvas, exploding
         with hues and tones of blackness
         Swirled into one beautiful ...
         me.
         Why does the vibrancy of my essence have to be
         tamed into bland bite-size bits to be
         swallowed up by society.
         Is the flavour of my skin too rich and sweet
         for you to bear?
         Well, if you cannot handle the bitter sweetness
         that makes me a dark berry, then
         Stay bland in your conception of blank beauty.
         I am not one shade too dark for beauty.
         Black Is Beautiful.
         I Am Beautiful.

— The End —