by Alesha Sinks | Aug 3, 2019 | Family, Poetry
Parenting
My eyes lock with
His, the scowl on his
Small face takes my heartbeat,
My blood pressure,
So high I can feel it
Throbbing in my ears. I want
To scream and shout, and
As I open my mouth,
I feel the same scowl
Plastered on his face,
Stretched taut across
Mine. Him reflecting me.
I see his eyes hard,
Like mine. His lips pursed,
Like mine. His hands clenched,
Like mine. Like mine. Like me.
All that makes me angry in
Him, I see first in me.
It’s everywhere in me
I want to scream,
Claw at my chest and tear,
Rip my own self out
Of my parenting, I wonder
If I could be a perfect
Parent, would he be
A perfect child?
I want to cry, scream,
Wail again, but not in
Frustration. This time
I want to scream from
Sadness, despair, hopelessness.
I can never be who
I am asking my child
To be. What can I do?
What. Can. I. Do?
My breathing tears, burns
Sharp and painful inside.
But truth rises in me
Like a trumpet,
Like a song sung to
Summon hope.
I cannot make him perfect, partly
Because I cannot be perfect.
But I can teach him
Humility. Asking forgiveness.
Self awareness. Admitting
Failure and getting up to
Try again. I can teach him
Dependence
On God. And hope
For change and growth beyond
His own capacity. I can
Teach him all this because
I can live all this.
I can live humility and
Forgiveness and dependence.
Grace and honesty and
Self-awareness and hope in
Someone greater than myself.
I can teach him, what I can
Live myself. And I am not
Able to live perfection, but
I can live grace and hope and
Humility and surrender. So
My eyes lock his
Softening to meet his iron
Gaze, and I relax.
Apologize. No but.
It’s just there, the offer,
The apology for
Him to accept or not.
A going first.
He can make his
Choice. I have made mine, and
I pray he will follow.
by Alesha Sinks | Jul 15, 2019 | God's Word, Just Me, Poetry
Worship at Sunrise
How can I
Morning after morning
Wrap myself in
All this glory
And not open my
Mouth to praise?
by Alesha Sinks
So often I find myself overwhelmed by the beauty of nature. And yet, so often I fail to step forward into the intended result of awe and wonder…worship.
Isn’t that the purpose of creation?
”The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.”
Psalm 19:1 (NIV)
“For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities–his eternal power and divine nature–have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.”
Romans 1:20 (NIV)
In the Psalms, there are examples upon examples of the writer praising God, inspired by and in awe of the glory of God’s creation.
“How many are your works, LORD! In wisdom you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures.”
Psalm 104:24
“For the Lord is the great God, the great King above all gods. In his hand are the depths of the earth, and the mountain peaks belong to him. The sea is his, for he made it, and his hands formed the dry land. Come, let us bow down in worship, let us kneel before the Lord our Maker;”
Psalm 95:3-6
Yet so many mornings I hurry, feet pounding across weather pavement, stechting out to reach the sunrise. And when I get there, when I reach the oceans edge with the early light rippling across the waves, when I stand still and breathless at the beauty in front of me, I forget to do the very thing for which my soul was made.
I forget to do the very thing for which my soul was made.
I forget to take my awe of creation and let it lead me into awe of the Creator.
And that’s true of a little million moments throughout my days.
watching pure joy radiate from my son’s face
when that one shaft of light slips through the living room blinds
the first glorious sip of coffee
a peaceful moment, book in hand
a friend reaching out in love and encouragement
that one song playing right, exactly when I needed to hear it
a cool breeze stirring through the hot evening air, summoning us to rest
How often do these moements slip through my grasp, our grasp, awakening joy and peace and hope and beauty, but failing to turn our hearts in gratitude toward their Giver.
I’m practicing.
Practicing awareness in the moment. Practicing giving a practical, out-loud or a quiet, whispered-in-my-heart “thank you God” when I am surprised by joy. Praciticing reflection on blessings at the end of the day or the week or the month and practicing offering my thanks to God then. Practicing to make a seamless turn from “Wow, how beautiful” into “God, You are so beautiful”.
I’m practicing to make a seamless turn from “Wow, how beautiful” into “God, You are so beautiful”.
Will you practice with me? Will you join me in allowing the beauty around us to not just catch our eyes or our hearts, but to turn our hearts toward God?
My prayer for us today is…
Let the beauty we encounter daily lead us to worship.
Be blessed,
Alesha
by Alesha Sinks | May 13, 2019 | Family, Just Me, Poetry
It shows up in the eyes of my little ones, again and again.
This searching.
This watching.
This learning.
And this becoming.
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I see in his eyes. This desire to become alike to those he loves.
In the eyes of a three year old, it easy to see and to interpret that look. That desire.
But in the eyes of a twenty year old, a twenty-eight year old, a thirty-eight year old, a fifty-right year old, it’s harder to spot.
It’s still there though.
This desire to be alike to those we love or to those we admire doesn’t go away with age.
Because perhaps, if we look closely, we can find beautiful ways that those we love have already shaped us. And that they have shaped us so deeply, it’s hard to distinguish their influence from who are most deeply are.
That can be a painful truth.
But it can also be a beautiful truth.
It has struck me again and again this year, and particularly this Mother’s Day, how there are so many pieces of me put in place by others. Unintentionally maybe. Subtly. Beautifully.
And as I become aware of them, it’s up to me to keep them, or change them.
Today, I want to focus on all the wonderful, beautiful things about me that were taught by and learned from my mother. I’m still learning from her, becoming like her, seeing the fruit of my childhood admiration come out of the deepest parts of me.
And today, I’m thankful for so many beautiful pieces of me that are credited to her. To her teaching, her loving, her serving, her planning and organization, her openness and honesty, and most of all her willingness to admit weakness and failure and her need for Jesus.
I have so many memories of her leading and guiding us toward Jesus, or simply watching her pursue Him herself.
I pray that this can be my legacy as well. That those memories and habits I watched in her all these years become so deeply a part of me that they become who I am too.
“Mama”
So many pieces of me
I take for granted,
Mistake as innate.
Till I stop and watch
You live and love.
Then with sudden clarity
I see myself,
All the pieces of me
That aren’t accidental at all.
Instead they are hours
And days and years
Of you sacrificing,
Pouring yourself into me.
Yourself out for me.
And most of all
Pouring yourself out
Before Jesus.
Letting Him fill you
So that you could pour
Into me something better
Than just yourself.
I hope that I
Can pour myself
Out that way too.
Alesha Sinks
<img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1557709278407-W4VMAQG3Z1CLFL0W8XBP/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kBli73Htgs-NafDnOYQBlvN7gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z5QHyNOqBUUEtDDsRWrJLTm8gdG5xRTtrVVyLXkddLwcg0lFwGgNRFzrle14-MGomKmTAiGKVyCZ3FL6eVFJJ3F/MamaPoem.JPG?format=original" alt=""/>
“Thank You”
I should have said
thank you
For the lessons you taught
All the ways you pushed me
Out and out and out of comfort
Till I could step on my own.
I should have said
thank you
For the footprints to follow
The path cleared and waiting
The shaping of heart and mind
The formation of me.
I should have said
thank you
For the things I learned
To not be as well as to be
There are both together
And I am thankful.
I should have said
thank you
For the things you taught
They are part of me so deeply
I can’t separate them out.
And I don’t want to.
Thank you.
Alesha Sinks
Be blessed
<img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1557709265815-EVO6WMXW5Q9HSG5J0HF3/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kBli73Htgs-NafDnOYQBlvN7gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z5QHyNOqBUUEtDDsRWrJLTm8gdG5xRTtrVVyLXkddLwcg0lFwGgNRFzrle14-MGomKmTAiGKVyCZ3FL6eVFJJ3F/ThankYouPoem.JPG?format=original" alt=""/>
by Alesha Sinks | Apr 28, 2019 | God's Word, Just Me, Poetry
I'm learning to see
That there just might be
More than one right answer
<img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1556473877123-3L88E8PRYFMFREA8CQK8/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kDHPSfPanjkWqhH6pl6g5ph7gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z4YTzHvnKhyp6Da-NYroOW3ZGjoBKy3azqku80C789l0mwONMR1ELp49Lyc52iWr5dNb1QJw9casjKdtTg1_-y4jz4ptJBmI9gQmbjSQnNGng/IMG_4559.JPG?format=original" alt=""/>
I was less than five minutes into that podcast episode when I found tears springing to my eyes, heart beating faster in agreement.
It was me.
It was all me.
Everything she said about feeling this weight, this pressure to find and make the right decision, it was like she had looked inside me and was reading back what she found.
I've lived, and I still live, so much of my life under the fear of messing up. Under the fear of missing out. Under the fear of making that one wrong decision that unhinges everything.
And through the painful, beautiful, soulful work of others, that they are graciously sharing with the world, I am beginning to see that maybe God doesn't work the way I think.
<img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1556474337810-Q1P09IADMC4SE1VD1XSL/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kNZr331BLc-Rota1ZP1Yh3h7gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z4YTzHvnKhyp6Da-NYroOW3ZGjoBKy3azqku80C789l0hReLB75oIvKxcDxwlnLXaYNPa96OWO5Z21xzWqpQF_bv3E39NLc0xdQYNJZ7z0n0g/IMG_4565.JPG?format=original" alt=""/>
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Just maybe, He gives us far more freedom in our decisions than I think.
And
Most definitely
A bad decision is not near enough to unhinge God's eternal plan.
Yes
I can rebel my way out of God's favor.
Yes
I can make stubbornly, unwise choices that will lead me far away from who God designed me to be.
Yes
I can miss out on certain life experiences by choosing one thing over another.
But if I humble myself and seek God, I will not miss out on Him. No matter how many "wrong" decisions I make.
Because God is The Great Author.
An Author Who can write His plots to beauty and purpose and good despite the foolish blunderings His characters create when trying to write their own stories.
Because God delights to give us free will and the ability to choose based not on formal command from Him, but on the good desires He has already placed inside us.
Because God lavishes His goodness upon us, primarily, in the form of intimacy with Himself. And that gift can be given no matter where we physically are in life.
If we will just turn to Him.
If we will just humble ourselves to seek Him.
If we will just delight in His presence.
If we will just enjoy His goodness to us. His presence with us.
Oh to live in that space of freedom and joy and delight in Jesus. That space where my decisions can flow freely and confidently. Not necessarily because He speaks to me directly about every one, but because I am confident in His love and care for me, and resting in the trust that what He has already placed inside of me will guide my decisions as I draw near to His heart.
May we each learn to live in that space of freedom and trust.
Trust that He will give us everything we need to make good decisions as we draw close to Him in love.
Trust that He is powerful enough to accomplish His will in me and in the world regardless of my decisions along the way, as long as I am making those decisions in a posture of drawing near to Him.
I'm learning to see
That there just might be
More than one right answer
<img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1556474800457-C20XK06DCETYQQ7ZRHPC/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kNiEM88mrzHRsd1mQ3bxVct7gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z4YTzHvnKhyp6Da-NYroOW3ZGjoBKy3azqku80C789l0s0XaMNjCqAzRibjnE_wBlkZ2axuMlPfqFLWy-3Tjp4nKScCHg1XF4aLsQJlo6oYbA/IMG_4568.JPG?format=original" alt=""/>
Be blessed
by Alesha Sinks | Apr 4, 2019 | Just Me, Poetry
The prompt hung there in my mind. Confusing. Unclear.
And a for a few hours, I had no words.
But when the first idea burst through in my brain, it was like the floodgates opened and I couldn’t stop writing.
Just writing this was incredibly helpful to me. I hope maybe, as you read these five small poems, you will feel seen.
<img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1554376739937-B3V6P2B2WHO0N82SAIBY/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kJK4Mm1kch8SFO9ZNkN1NT97gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z5QHyNOqBUUEtDDsRWrJLTmFk_H6M1tkD9NpL7mXac0oVSXdFfjxR5AjcLwGSebOiGBsFzzcw3xKxvyC_6CFFG_/IMG_3125.JPG?format=original" alt=""/>
Prompt: The Words You Always Wanted to Say to Him/Her But Never Did
I never wanted you
To be my friend.
I wanted you
to be his.
Because I care more about him
Than I care about
Myself
….
Maybe I’m wrong,
But I think the same temptations hold us close
I see things in you
Pressing, begging, rearing to come out in me
And I’m running hard
I pray maybe you will start running soon too
Or that maybe,
I am just wrong about you
….
It’s okay to not be perfect
It’s okay to not have it all figured out
I like you better that way, anyways
Let’s be broken together
I’ll hold your pieces
You hold mine
If I get cut, it’s okay.
Because we’ll be together.
….
I cared what you thought
So when you chose them
I suddenly felt caught
In my childish naivety
Why would I have ever thought
You’d choose me?
That day life taught
Me a lesson
I’d spend the rest of it unlearning
….
You can’t see it, girl
But you’re so very loved.
And there’s not one single person
You will meet in this whole, beautiful life
Who will be enough to love you
As much as you already are.
….
If you feel inspired, try out this prompt too. You don’t have to consider yourself a writer to write. And I’d love to read what you come up with. Or keep it private.
This was a sad and beautiful and helpful exercise for me to do and maybe it will be the same for you.
Be blessed
