Carole Smith

"Hagar entered in the wilderness of Beer-sheba where the two soon ran out of water and Hagar, not wanting to witness the death of her son, set the boy some distance away from herself, and wept. "And God heard the voice of the lad" and sent his angel to tell Hagar, "Arise, lift up the lad, and hold him in thine hand; for I will make him a great nation." And God "opened her eyes, and she saw a well of water", from which she drew to save Ishmael's life and her own." Genesis 21:14-19 Draw Deep When you are empty When you are spilled When you can’t ever Seem to be filled... Draw near to me Draw deep from my well I am your rest I am your fill! Look to me, I’m but only a step away You can not take your own worries away You try and you try To make your own way… But I am your rest Draw close to me Drink deep from me Water un-ending Rest never-ceasing Cleansing abounding I’ll set you free Draw d...

A work of Creative Non-Fiction Her eyes sprang open just as her body was shifting from her side to her back.  Her constant companion, physical discomfort, greeted her spine with a shock of rolling pain.  Is this all I have to look forward to in my life, she thought as her mind tried to clear away the dark dreams from the night. Pearl was seventy eight, and her second back surgery in a period of three short years was just nine months behind her.  A day without pain was something that didn’t even exist in her dreams anymore.  She shared her small townhouse with no other living thing; no person, no animal, no fish, no plant.  The only voice besides her own was from the TV and the occasional phone call.  Days would pass without the hopeful sound of a ring.  On more than one occasion, she would lift the receiver, not to make a call, but just to check for a dial tone.  Today was to be no different than any other day in Pearl’s life...

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven…” Ecclesiastes 3:1 While I Sit Trying to think muddy, murky, deep… in my mind, in my car, in my wait. So I sit. And I write.        And I sit. And I think. And I try. And I try. I try… to make it clear, that it’s the person out there… playing her soccer, kicking his kicks, flying his punches, shooting her hoops, that it’s for. Not my time. It’s her time. It’s his time. Its youth’s time. And that realization… Clears my mind. Stops the list. Warms my heart …while I sit. ~ Copyright © 2013 by Carole A. Smith

“I will extend peace to her like a river…” Isaiah 66:12 Peace like a river, Pour over me. Flowing, swirling, Bubbling, carrying, Pushing, rinsing my tears away. Peace like a river, Be with me today… Encircling, washing, Refreshing, guiding, Cleansing, purifying my thoughts, I pray. Power and might, Strength and gentleness. Peace like a river,  Wash over me. ~ Copyright © 2013 by Carole A. Smith

It’s time to reshape The misshapen SHAPE of me. I am FULL. Influenced by this world …too much. Selfishness Pride Arrogance Materialism… I need to reshape MY way of LIFE According to GOD’s WAY of  LIFE…for me. Deep joy CAN be mine WILL be mine By deflating ME And filling with HIM. I choose to KNOW the LORD NO world! I choose to SERVE the LORD You have been SERVED world! It’s time to reshape The misshapen SHAPE of ME. ~Carole Smith 4/9/13 Inspired by Psalm 119:36-37 “Turn my heart toward your statutes and not toward selfish gain. Turn me eyes away from worthless things…”

THE DREAM ~ I dreamt of you last night …comforting me …listening to me …paying attention to me. Caring about what I had to say. Offering me words of kindness and wisdom. I dreamt of you being all I needed you to be …when you were alive. ~  My Father passed away September 25, 2010... I had a strange dream last night.  It was a sort of role reversal between my mom and my dad.  Instead of my dad dying, it was my mom.  And instead of my mom giving me advice and words of comfort, it was my dad.  Maybe it was because at the end of our phone call last night, my mom hung-up on me.  I am half-way wondering if my dead father visited me in my dream last night.  By all of my standards, this could be totally viable.  I awoke, by the dog, at the end of the dream at 3:18am.  3 am, I have always heard, is the peak hour for spirit activity… and apparently for dogs to go pee.  3 is the prime number for me and my dad....

Have you ever walked by someone’s house and had to simply stop dead in your tracks to admire the beauty of their yard?   Their flower beds, bunches of color straight from the rainbow.  Their grass neatly manicured... each blade of grass precisely the same length, the colors all so vivid and rich.   ...Then after that first thought of beauty and awe that stopped you, silently, from out of nowhere, it seems, the coveting slips in.   I wish I had a garden like that.   I wish my flowers were so gorgeous.   ... Then the feeling of disappointment at yourself that you don’t or that you could never do that, you could never have that.   ... And then the feeling of bitterness that leaves a slight sour taste in your mouth.   ...And then the emptiness that leaves you feeling a little hollow and alone.   All in a matter of seconds, all with no conscious thoughts of your own dragging you down that dirty back road of your m...

It wasn’t until I had children of my own that I begun reflecting about my dad leaving.   When they reached the tender ages of five and three-and-a-half, I started to wonder about what exactly happened to me as a child that fateful day.   Maybe it was the fact that my daughter had some striking physical and personality similarities to me, especially when she wore her hair in pigtails.   Maybe it was the way she and her brother loved their daddy.   They would rush to greet him in the evening when he got home from work with squeals of laughter and delight yelling, “Daddy, Daddy… Daaaaddyyyyy!”   If his schedule was a little off – perhaps from a business trip - they would question me relentlessly about where he was and when he would be home.   As I considered my past in contrast with my children’s lives I decided to call my mom to ask her what happened to me.   After catching up with the current events of our lives, I dropped the bomb on my mom and ...

~ One, my mother, Two, my sister, Three, my brother… He left us… He left me. ~ Time, I suppose, does have its own way of healing wounds.   Just like I have no recollection of being told I was adopted, or that my dad was leaving the family, I also have no specific memory of being told my parents were divorced.   I don’t have a memory of my daddy leaving.   To my knowledge, he didn’t sit me down upon his lap.   He didn’t hold me in his arms. He didn’t crouch down on one knee and put his hands upon my shoulders and look me in the eyes to tell me he was leaving me.   As far as I know, one day when I was three-and –a-half years old, he left our house and never came home again. ... More to come! Excerpts taken from book I am writing: After They Leave, Who Will Love Me? A Memoir of struggle to find love after adoption, divorce and death

My mom and dad could not have children, according to Doctors.   After 16 years of marriage and no children of their own, they decided to adopt.   First came my sister born and adopted two and half years before me.   Then they adopted me.  Within the first month of being welcomed into my new family, my mom had a doctor’s appointment because she was not feeling well.   It turns out she did not feel well because she was almost five months pregnant.   Mom said that she was laughing and crying at the same time upon hearing the news.   Tears of disbelief and terror – how on earth was she pregnant?   The doctors had told her for over twenty years she would never be able to conceive children.   How was she going to manage three babies ages four and under?   Laughing for the sheer joy of being pregnant and the irony of the whole situation.   I have yet to laugh and cry at the same time in my life… and have found myself throughout life ...

So, I signed up to run a half-marathon this May and I think I am having a change of heart.  The question that keeps popping up in the back of my mind... What are you running from? Now, if I was a runner, I'm pretty sure my thoughts would be What are you running towards?  And in turn, I would have quick and easy answers like a goal, a finish line, a time, better health.  But I am not a runner.  My body was not made for running longer distances.  I have to MAKE myself do every run.  What I lack in my running abilities I doubly make-up for in my competitiveness and in my drive.  Ironically enough it was ME who said YES to this half-marathon.  I was the one that convinced my two girlfriends we could do this.  I convinced myself.  Sure I could do this, I did it before in 2009.  Sure I could do this, especially because I just turned 40.  Sure I could do this... my friends are thinking they can, so if they can then I certain...

I recently read a line in a book that has been churning around in my brain, you know, in that spot that processes things you had no intention of ever really thinking about again... "Sharing the struggles of life and death united even enemies, it was said." Sharing - Struggles - Life - Death - United - Enemies... each one of those words alone can evoke a strong memory, but when you put them together to form a concise thought...powerful! I have shared the struggles of life in one of the most intimate of ways throughout all of my tender childhood days into adulthood - with my sister.  And together we shared the months of our father's failing health that led to his final days, and eventual death.  We sat on opposite sides of his bed, watching him gasp for his final breaths of life. But for us, these struggles, of life and death proved to be too much.  The pain in our past cultivated separation and competition and ...

On this cold, wet, gray Monday morning, as I return home from dropping off my two grade-schoolers, I contemplate crawling back into my bed and pulling the covers securely around me.  I have a desperate need to shut out all that is waiting for me... no, change that, screaming for me, to take care of.  My home.... the bills...my own expectations of whom I should be.... My thoughts drift to my bank account.  I have the responsibility of one small account, to buy our groceries, gas for my car, the dog's food, fun for me, the kids, and our family.  There are still 5 days until payday and I need gas and dog food, and a little more groceries... but my account is overdrawn. I drift through my home on my way to the computer and notice the dirty clothes piled-up and strewn about the floors.  They have been dropped, on the spot, where they were discarded for a new set of clean ones for the day.  The beds are unmade,...

~ I tried to reach you today ...no one was home. ~ I got a new a cell phone today.   They were unable to transfer my contact information.   I had to go in and manually add all of the names and numbers into my new phone.   I thought this was going to be a good idea anyway because I had a lot of numbers stored for people that I didn’t call anymore. Then I came across my Dad’s number.   This made me stop and think… for a moment.   I remember that before he died I updated his wife’s phone number into her own contact.   I couldn’t keep the three numbers straight between hers, his and their home.   Then I seemed to recall that they cancelled their home phone and went wireless only.   I thought about calling his number.   Maybe it would still be working.   Maybe I would hear his voice.   I hadn’t tried to call his phone since he died.   I think I remember that the voicemail was recorded by my step-brother, and not in ...

I am struggling with fear today as I approach my 8 year old son's first minor surgery tomorrow...  Are you struggling with a fear today too?... I am learning in my life when I feel the tentacles of fear start to stir in my gut; when those cold fingers start to make their way up my spine and weave themselves into my heart and mind that I MUST turn to the Lord! And so today, I choose to meditate on His words: "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." 2 Timothy 1:7 I do not know what tomorrow holds for my life.  But I do know that I will trust the Lord, my God, with all of my heart, with all my soul and with all of mind.  And because of this, everything will be alright!                                      ...

Imagine… intention. To live, breath, love, feel, wake, dream, believe… Speak, write dance play… Run, eat, teach, parent, praise… To be still… Imagine all… With intention. ~Carole A. Smith