Anne Marie Miller

Category: Musings/Poetry

  • raw [trust]

    certain things trigger painful memories. and then i do allow myself to feel them. deeply.

    saturday night, i had one of those experiences.

    a person i have been getting to know lately reminds me of someone in my past.

    someone who i looked up to tremendously. someone who led me. someone who i cared for deeply. someone who pastored me. someone who i trusted uninhibitedly.

    someone who had been living a lie. the entire time i knew him.

    i have forgiven this person. i still love this person. but this person has forever changed me.

    and tonight, as i was reminded of my old friend again; my heart, surprised me.

    achingly raw.

    bleeding.

    tears well up even as i type now. for past pain. and present fear. of future trust.

    [trust is not a four letter word]

  • sometimes we need a reminder

    Amazing grace
    How sweet the sound
    That saved a wretch like me
    I once was lost, but now I’m found
    Was blind, but now I see

    ‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear
    And grace my fears relieved
    How precious did that grace appear
    The hour I first believed

    My chains are gone
    I’ve been set free
    My God, my Savior has ransomed me
    And like a flood His mercy reigns
    Unending love, Amazing grace

  • oh snap

    “How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.” ~Henry David Thoreau

  • good morning.

    It might not be
    The prettiest thing that you’ll ever see
    But it?s a new day, oh baby, it?s a new day
    And it might not look like
    A beautiful sunrise
    But it’s a new day, oh baby, it?s a new day

    (Robbie Seay Band)

  • duskdreamer

    miles from home, i write from my lower greenville third place. i’ve watched people come and go. i’ve watched the sun set. my focus is lacking tonight as my list of things-to-write increases ever so slightly.

    my heart; fickle as of late. questioning things. what? here? now? when? how? what? where?

    i love the fact i cannot be spontaneous. it runs completely against my nature.

    otherwise?

    i’d be on a coast somewhere looking up at the stars. and nobody would know.

    settle down, wandering mind…quiet yourself, duskdreamer.

  • pre-sleep-journal-words

    tonight, i scribbled with red ink, on grey paper, in a sacred black journal, certain misconceptions i have allowed myself to believe. certain questions i have. a list of things confessing, repenting, and seeking wisdom.

    one question in particular ended up being surrounded by many question marks…many question marks completed by big, dark, heavy dots on the bottom, as i filled in each circle thoughtfully until my pen nearly made a hole in the page.

    what is the sacrifice YOU require of me, opposed to what man requires????


    i can’t wait for the answer.

  • trust is not a four-letter word

    describe:

    trust is not a four-letter word.
    [at least, that is what i keep reminding myself]

    i think you know the place of which i speak.
    the small area
    [approximately the size of a quarter, i’d imagine]
    which rests in the center of your chest:
    between the cages of your ribs
    beneath the muscles and tissues
    of your heart and of your lungs

    this is the place we feel trust
    [or lack thereof]

    at its most intense times
    [when betrayal is fresh]
    the pain and discomfort
    radiate across our entire being

    the tension in the neck
    the pressure on your stomach
    nauseated
    [imagine the tire of a texas-sized truck
    running over your torso
    repeatedly; repeatedly]

    arms folded
    trying to protect the emotional;
    the spiritual;
    the mental;
    using physical means
    survival.

    logical redemption?

    with grace
    and time
    forgiveness chosen
    the once overwhelming
    sensation of suffocation
    retreats back into
    aforementioned quarter-sized area
    and quietly refrains
    from causing disturbances

    emerging and unsuspecting

    hibernation
    by definition
    conserves energy in
    those frigid winter months

    but once the warmth of the sun
    touches the air
    [touches my being]
    instead of spring
    the fear of feeling
    those things that have been
    felt before
    [crushing me before]
    [shredding me before]
    emerge

    questioning this new light
    [or this one? or this one?]
    is real; shining; radiating?

    perhaps another fluorescent clone
    which will project
    a washing out of my skin
    [grey
    lifeless?]

    i find myself
    staying…

    …buried

    still afraid
    and unable to find it.

    [to find trust]

    and as a poetic man
    expressed similarly
    i find truth in his art:

    remember the words
    of someone
    someone I used to know
    love everyone
    but keep them
    far from your soul.

  • truth.

    i know there is Truth.
    and i thought i knew truth.
    fortunately for all of us
    they can be mutually exclusive

    {although, they shouldn’t be}

    when sorrow redeemed itself
    i found the grace i had hidden

    but when light shined brightest,
    grace became lost in the shadow
    of memories and questions

  • something in the air

    everywhere
    and it’s a good thing
    moving so fast
    and finding it hard to stop
    at least i can rest in
    the fact you
    are in each in breath
    filling my lungs
    circulating in my veins
    coursing with each beat
    through my heart

    thank you