I'm learning to find my voice again
To learn that I DO have a voice,
and it's not so bad,
and it IS worth to be heard,
Too...
sans pleas,
sans promises,
you just have to believe,
I have to believe...
After all these years being silenced,
Muffled,
Belittled,
Deemed worthless,
My infantile fragile shaky volatile voice,
Now needs to
ROAR.
Hurry, we have an audience,
and yet, still, other voices to compete.
So help me, God.
You guided me here,
so please,
guide me all the way...

The big story of this day is Jesus’ Resurrection from death.
It will be celebrated in homes and churches throughout the world.
But I think Jesus is more interested in us than us celebrating him.
He wants us to recognize
and celebrate the way we rise
from our darkness, and digressions
failures, weakness, sadness and depression.

When Jesus was on Earth he was honest.  He was himself.
That’s what got him in trouble.
He teaches me to subdue the anger and every hint of violence inside
to be true to the unique creature his Father has crafted
not special or above the rest of ordinary men
just different and true to my own voice.

Unlike Jesus, I am not that courageous and mighty with the power of love.
I still fantasize doing damage to those whom I deem evil
still I care too much about what others think
about how I look or sound in public.

I am unlike Jesus in too many ways,
but I am like him in my rising from darkness and doom
from my own self-made tomb.
My resurrections might be tiny
but large is the Spirit in me
and the ability to see
the light
to see the right
and pursue it wherever it leads
into meadows and into the weeds
away from tradition and my roots
beyond my past moorings
toward truth
and its small soarings
telling my little stories
from death to glory.