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
by Alesha Sinks | Apr 2, 2019 | Blogging, Just Me
Hi friends,
I wanted to share with you a project I’m starting tomorrow.
The 100 Day Project
<img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1554171611067-48HEAAY0HRG258IGKQU4/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kNiEM88mrzHRsd1mQ3bxVct7gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z4YTzHvnKhyp6Da-NYroOW3ZGjoBKy3azqku80C789l0s0XaMNjCqAzRibjnE_wBlkZ2axuMlPfqFLWy-3Tjp4nKScCHg1XF4aLsQJlo6oYbA/IMG_2965.JPG?format=original" alt=""/>
The 100 Day Project is a creativity challenge. Many people do this on their own, and some as part of a group. There is a large community of people that I will be joining to complete the challenge beginning April 2nd and finishing July 10th.
If you follow my Instagram (@aleshablessed), you may remember that I participated last year. I did 100 days of storytelling, with the goal of telling short stories about my life everyday, in order to grow and explore my storytelling ability.
Although I stopped participating in the challenge around day 50, and I didn’t even complete every day up until then, I loved it. I felt my confidence, and I think, my skill grow throughout the challenge.
This year, I am taking on the challenge again, with the goal of finishing…not completing every day. But keeping on until the end. And my creative goal?
100 Days of Poetry
I plan to write a poem every day for 100 days, about whatever I want.
I have been writing poems since elementary school. I used to carry one of those tiny composition notebooks around so that I could spend the minutes waiting and the minutes in the car scribbling down tiny poems about cows and trees and whatever else ten-year-old Alesha thought about.
I’ve always thought my writing somewhat reflected that poetic bent from my childhood. But lately, I’ve wanted to lean in to that a bit.
And I wanted to write and actually share it again. Regularly.
If you want to follow along, you can join me on Instagram or wait and see the poetry “round ups” I post on here.
I hope, maybe, the poetry will inspire something in you. A reflection. An emotion. A prayer. A poem of your own.
I’m going to try to write more than just poems for the next four months, but even if I don’t write anything else, I am praying that the poems do the same thing all of my words are intended to do…
to reset your perspective with truth.
What is something you were obsessed with as a child that you would love to revisit? Why not?
Be blessed
![He Answers: [The Prayer I Forgot]](https://i0.wp.com/aleshasinks.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/IMG_1408.jpg?resize=1080%2C675&ssl=1)
by Alesha Sinks | Dec 17, 2018 | Just Me
A few weeks ago, over an emotional conversation, I told a friend, "I'm surprised I'm not crying right now. I've cried, or at least teared up, pretty much every day for the past few months."
And it’s true.
The hard of the past year has brought me to a place where tears seem as though they are ready and waiting at any moment. I never was that person: a crier. I never was her.
But now, maybe I am.
<img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1545043720494-PNKKNI25COJYSTBLHSOU/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kDHPSfPanjkWqhH6pl6g5ph7gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z4YTzHvnKhyp6Da-NYroOW3ZGjoBKy3azqku80C789l0mwONMR1ELp49Lyc52iWr5dNb1QJw9casjKdtTg1_-y4jz4ptJBmI9gQmbjSQnNGng/IMG_1408.JPG?format=original" alt=""/>
The next day, sitting on my couch, reading a book about how God does what He says He will do, about how God always answers prayers, I teared up again. That all too familiar burning behind my eyelids and simultaneous hardening in my throat. I closed my eyes and let the emotion rise. And fall.
It often happens that way. The saddness rising, full and intense, and then, nearly as quickly, it begins to fade leaving only a dampness in my eyes and ache in my heart.
I sighed.
There it was for today.
Would I ever again make it through I day without tears?
But at the same time this thought sighed its way through my tired brain, I turned my focus to noticing.
Noticing the tears.
Noticing the sudden surge of emotion.
Noticing the when and the how and knowing that if I noticed and waited, just maybe the Holy Spirit would whisper the why into my heart.
And in this moment, He did.
…
I don’t remember quite when, so maybe it was just always this way, but I learned to be pretty good at holding my tears. Holding on to them till a more appropriate time. As I’ve grown older, I’ve realized that the problem with tears is that they don’t work like this.
Emotions surge at times I often expect them the least and if I don’t allow myself to feel them in the moment, they often never come at all.
I held in tears over my grandfathers death so many times, that when the funeral finally came, and it was “time” to cry, I couldn’t. I still have never cried over his death.
As years have passed, I’ve grown to hate this part of myself. And more than a few times, I’ve found myself pleading with God that He teach me to cry. That He would allow me to release the emotions bottled up inside me at the right times.
I’ve begged Him to grant my heart the release and relief of tears.
I want to cry in joy and in pain. I want to cry for myself and I want to cry with others. I want tears to come and I want them to mean that I’m letting down my walls, the ones I’ve built so high and strong.
…
I noticed and I waited. And He answered.
”This is what you prayed for.” He whispered. I’m answering.”
The tears filled my eyes again.
And once again, I knew that He answers. That He really, truly, absolutely, completely, for sure answers prayers.
I used to think that if I felt nothing, saw no answer, heard no voice during prayer or immediately after, then it meant the prayer was answered no. Maybe I didn’t consciously think that, but I felt it deep down, and I often lived like it was true.
The tearing of this past year and the chronicling of when He speaks has shown me a truth I never really saw before.
He answers.
God answers prayer.
He does.
He really truly does.
The reason we miss it so often is that by the time our answer does come, we’ve forgotten that we prayed for it in the first place. And so we don’t notice.
But if we take the time to make note and take note and notice, we will find that God answers prayers all the time.
He really does.
I think I first prayed for tears in high school, over ten years ago. And once again, I’m tearing up just writing these words, because the realization that He answers is simply so overwhelming.
It’s not often immediate.
It’s sometimes different than how I imagine.
But it is real. He answers.
And on a random Tuesday, early in the Christmas season, the Holy Spirit whispered into my heart to remind me that my tears were an answered prayer.
Be blessed
by Alesha Sinks | Oct 19, 2018 | Just Me
I sat on the park bench watching.
Watching my husband chase our three year old up and down the ramps and slides.
Watching our one year old climb up and down the slide.
Watching older kids run past shouting and laughing.
Watching the overcast sky fade from pale grey to dark gray.
The breeze was light, but just cool enough to feel that first hint of fall.
Fall.
<img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1539889710948-53U6H7OHR2EQN7RZJH4A/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kNPKVmbt05aEWnErXou3fDl7gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z4YTzHvnKhyp6Da-NYroOW3ZGjoBKy3azqku80C789l0tb-hnCqoepq4X8c1traqO_6-8vaS3UGENu9QP5pfFlLbyLeIY6QzmBTG9h7XCKkkQ/IMG_0515.JPG?format=original" alt=""/>
I looked around, feeling that warm-but-not-hot air and the ever-so-slightly-cool breeze winding around me. I had forgotten.
In the long, hot months of Florida summer, I had forgotten that another season would come. And I had forgotten how wonderful it is when it does.
I sat there silently marveling.
Marveling that somehow I could forget that summer would be over and the heat would fade and we could go outside in the evening into the most perfect weather.
Marveling that I could somehow forget that the heaviness of summer heat and humidity would be replaced by the lightness of a cool sunny day.
Marveling that we are there already, at that point in the year where we can feel the season changing.
Heat to cool.
Heavy to light.
Summer to fall.
And I had forgotten.
But here we are. The first hints of the joy to come already showing up around me.
And I as I sat breathing in the cool, light air around me, I felt a whisper in my heart that I’ve come to learn as His voice.
”Don’t forget what’s coming.”
Don’t forget what’s coming.
This season of life has been so long. It’s felt like the summer, hot and smothering and heavy, and to be honest, I’ve found myself forgetting. Forgetting that the season will change. Forgetting that although God allows us to walk through the valley, He will also lead us beside still waters. He will also restore our souls.
"Don’t forget what’s coming,” He whispered.
And to be honest, I can barely remember what a season of freedom in certain areas of life feels like, because this season has been long. So very long.
But I know Whom I believe. Whether I remember what a change in season feels like or not, I will trust what He says.
This year, as our environmental season shifts around me, I have a whole new reason for hope. Hope that this season of the soul is shifting too.
by Alesha Sinks | Oct 18, 2018 | Just Me
I sat on the park bench watching.
Watching my husband chase our three year old up and down the ramps and slides.
Watching our one year old climb up and down the slide.
Watching older kids run past shouting and laughing.
Watching the overcast sky fade from pale grey to dark gray.
The breeze was light, but just cool enough to feel that first hint of fall.
Fall.
<img src="https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/55c38a57e4b00989028332c9/1539889710948-53U6H7OHR2EQN7RZJH4A/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kNPKVmbt05aEWnErXou3fDl7gQa3H78H3Y0txjaiv_0fDoOvxcdMmMKkDsyUqMSsMWxHk725yiiHCCLfrh8O1z4YTzHvnKhyp6Da-NYroOW3ZGjoBKy3azqku80C789l0tb-hnCqoepq4X8c1traqO_6-8vaS3UGENu9QP5pfFlLbyLeIY6QzmBTG9h7XCKkkQ/IMG_0515.JPG?format=original" alt=""/>
I looked around, feeling that warm-but-not-hot air and the ever-so-slightly-cool breeze winding around me. I had forgotten.
In the long, hot months of Florida summer, I had forgotten that another season would come. And I had forgotten how wonderful it is when it does.
I sat there silently marveling.
Marveling that somehow I could forget that summer would be over and the heat would fade and we could go outside in the evening into the most perfect weather.
Marveling that I could somehow forget that the heaviness of summer heat and humidity would be replaced by the lightness of a cool sunny day.
Marveling that we are there already, at that point in the year where we can feel the season changing.
Heat to cool.
Heavy to light.
Summer to fall.
And I had forgotten.
But here we are. The first hints of the joy to come already showing up around me.
And I as I sat breathing in the cool, light air around me, I felt a whisper in my heart that I’ve come to learn as His voice.
”Don’t forget what’s coming.”
Don’t forget what’s coming.
This season of life has been so long. It’s felt like the summer, hot and smothering and heavy, and to be honest, I’ve found myself forgetting. Forgetting that the season will change. Forgetting that although God allows us to walk through the valley, He will also lead us beside still waters. He will also restore our souls.
"Don’t forget what’s coming,” He whispered.
And to be honest, I can barely remember what a season of freedom in certain areas of life feels like, because this season has been long. So very long.
But I know Whom I believe. Whether I remember what a change in season feels like or not, I will trust what He says.
This year, as our environmental season shifts around me, I have a whole new reason for hope. Hope that this season of the soul is shifting too.
