Sunday Messages: After Sermon Circle…

After Sermon Circle

What if…

I’d never misconstrued the stars


miswritten scars

been found out, thrown out

broken, pushed to that sad corner

We’d be in different lots and lobbies

Sunday hobbies

Worship modes and models

two-Wards apart coddling beliefs

Awaiting  orders and the Word

Unknowns alone

But would they be in good taste

Coffee, scones, and conversation?


Words can not describe

the peace that comes from Godly things

and longer Sunday afternoons

Heart renderings

If not,

I’d find myself more

somewhere else in different locals




renditions of truth

in breaking Grace and Works without

You and I Soul mentoring

a juggling task

but not too fast


like separating eggs for Angel food cake.

They’re broken right and wrong, and

Heaven’s sake!

The shells still find their way

into a thick, sweet, airy batter!

And in the end I burn the cake…

then eat it anyway

with cream and berries

picking off the worst burnt parts.

No matter.

Praise God

We’re here instead


dunking cookies

We one-time,

Sometime cosign,

part-time friends

of one-line,  not so funny contracts

Mortgaging a future as if furniture

couching cushions

stiff compounding interest

Forclosing feelings

feeling sold and sold out

Paying rent…..and

Feeling Lost

while round-about-ing sin,

in selves

in selfishness

in debt

in Hims and hymns

What else?


Like children we run


Then Come to Jesus, come

Change hearts and wills

in pressing cups to lips

to feel more full


tip Scales of positivity

in sips

fully forgiven in His Grace

in changing face and hearts

more open

to fresh starts

and loving every person

What if…

I never had kept ordering

from that other full-fat menu

broken useless entres

and desserting

assembling exceptions to Golden Rules

delusionally playing wayward

Confused and excusing

If not this…

The chasm would have never opened

You’d not have listened ill or well

or feared me and that shadow self

I held to

like Peter Pan in Neverland

that other me snagged on the window sill

nude panty hoes

Transparently examining the no-name brand

became an audience, judge, and silencer

to schism thinking,

rough playing love making

Wondering what else,

what other dark thing

would come flying at you

void sight

He is the Way and the Light

Alright…the power of ones choices


there would have been no offense given or accrued

conjured, believed,

no bruises…

nothing assumed, conceived

alternate reality made and inflated

I never would have made that name

or thought those thoughts

or taunted tame

or been that less sane Mermaid


Or done those deeds

to you.

Our love and trust

would not been tossed to lost and found

or burned

or grown again from dormancy

Our stance, per chance,

would never have grown cold

beneath a snowy ground

aged old

nor risen once again

as if the sun

from Phoenix ashes

in days begun

with more than one pink clouded sky.

What if….

I’d never loved you

wrongly toward Forbidden

and feelings had stayed hidden

far behind propriety

and sensible, and holy

Cower at this thought

And knowing now…..if not,

Then all of this would not have given rise

or root to New

and left behind the squeemish

and demise

the ugly suit of face cards

Like playing Crazy 8s or Stop Theif

Who knew that something good

could come of something painful and disdainful?


Hallelujah Reserrection

This gift might never have come

to bless us

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus

Bless His name.

Thank you!

All the same,  my soul sings to you.

Happy day!

They raise their hands

as if they see His face

and in the reaching, they can touch


Now in this brilliant light I shade my eyes

and fall on knees too weak to stand

Here in Your presence

As tears roll down my face

some trickling,

some racing wrinkles

almost tickling

fall loose and free like paper

Trills and jet streams

To twinkle twinkle cross the shrouded healing hills

The horses graze content, carefree.

I long to gallop like the wild colt

and in my mind I bolt when my heart aches

Land sakes

I’m gazing out the winter window

but stay near in the message.

Emotion fills me like a bucket fire brigade

I have to force myself to breathe

the breathe of Life

The power of Love uncomprehensible

Tugs stitched like threads

and weaves my Heart to His

to build a home here in this counsel

some call community.

“What are you doing?”

It’s beautiful.

Then take my hand as if to pray

with yours in mine I can not stray.

I find the smallness in your touch enlarged

as if a tiny flame that feeds a fire

in time

I wonder How, and why I keep this hold

This healing stance

When will it ever feel more naturally a part of me

than now

Captively attending

I hear a prayerful pleading

Within my head I pray for Focus NOW

Sustain this?

In realizing I’ve been holding in a death grip

Not that dear hand……only my Breathe

How much longer in this blessed, coveted prayer and healing

in neither stepping forward or falling back?

I choose to reposition

to Feel both hands in mine


the time that I’ve been given

Thanks for the gifts of Love and Life,

companionship, forgiveness, even strife

discovering I can hold you

if only for a moment, within His arms

in one warm group hug

The moment’s real, and holy

not just a web and tangle of my mind

I love you, Jesus.

And you, and you, and you….the list goes on

in Laws fulfilled and Higher Laws of Love

Pray here and strain here

beneath the boom and boon of music

Here from this tomb

to plea a fallen child and his family

to plead for friends,

to plead.

I need Thee every hour ’til the end.

I know here as I fight this selfish feeling

that all your reeling will slow soon

to peace and healing

Tomorrow will assuredly be in Father’s keeping

and Jesus His right hand.

I want to do what’s right

I wish this prayer to go on here forever.

The weather’s changing

Still, it just might stay on, ‘mid the Cirrus

Among my weakness, and my unbelief

Despite a never ending love and tension

Cursed Lack of sleep

And dreams

that sometimes cast more prisms

in hers and hisms
I choose to love.

I choose to pray.

I choose to live life fullly, happily

in this blessed circle.


Marianne Williamson…Super Soul Sunday…. 1 in 5 children in poverty


About hrobertson2013

“Each man ( and mermaid) will be like a shelter from the wind and a refuge from the storm, like streams of water in the desert and the shadow of a great rock in a thirsty land”. Isa 32:2 NIV Warning: The author of this blog is not an ordinary individual. Even Mermaids need a rest from all that's real and grown up. Welcome to the wonder of blog. Come be audience to all that's wet and wild in her stories, poems and thoughts. Instructor by day, super hero by night, and mystical mermaid by summer. Whenever she has the fortune of diving into a pond, reservoir, or mountain waterfall, you'll find her there swimming, and singing songs of life.
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