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Written by Angela M. Riddick and edited by Grace M. Brown.  All material posted by Poetic Mustard Seeds is protected by copyright.

This past summer I went to a crab feast with a friend. At the end of the night, we found ourselves in a deep conversation with the DJ about how the current norms of society changed the way he now plays music.

I can still hear his words – “Remember, back in the day when the DJ would play a few slow songs for the lovers in the house?; well now, if I put a slow jam on, somebody is guaranteed to yell “ain’t nobody in love”; turn that stuff off!””

I think my heart is still aching from that conversation. The romantic in me remembers the day when hand holding and slow dancing were so cool.  Since that conversation, I started observing the number of times I noticed a couple holding hands and the results have been startling.

I know that not everyone is prone to outward displays of affection but one thing is definitely for sure; we have become a society that holds our smart phones more tightly than we hold each other’s hands.

My intention with the Heart of a Poet selections are to simply speak from the heart on a topic that God allows me to be impacted and inspired by. So there is no poetic expression this week but simply this:

I am just stopping by, crossing the bridge from my heart to yours, to remind you that 1 Corinthians 13:13 NLT says “Three things will last forever – faith, hope and love – and the greatest of these is love.”[Note to self: the entire chapter is worth reading.]

It hurts my heart that we are not only treating each other with such a grave loss of connectedness but this is what we are teaching our children – “ain’t nobody in love”.

Hold somebody’s hand, for God’s sake and let us not lose our compassion for connectedness towards one another. If we think the world has its share of ills now, let love go and we are really in trouble.

Merry Christmas, from my heart to yours. Angela

Written by Angela M. Riddick and edited by Grace M. Brown.  All material posted by Poetic Mustard Seeds is protected by copyright.

Written by Angela M. Riddick and edited by Grace Brown. All material posted by Poetic Mustard Seeds is protected by copyright.

If you have visited www.poeticmustardseeds.com often enough, (which I hope you have) you will notice a theme – I don’t recall a great deal from my childhood. Even though I have often wondered what kind of childhood I had and considered hypnosis, I have come to the conclusion, this is how I am wired; I keep short accounts. And I am told; I had a normal childhood – thank goodness.

It’s April 23, 2014 at 5:54 am (yes, you are reading this a few month’s later) and I was just flooded with a memory of my living sister and I traveling up a hill to attend church when I must have been about 12 and she likely 9 years old. It is funny how God allowed me to remember that as if it were yesterday. What is poignant about this memory as I thought about it on this present day is where we were going — to church.

Just last night, I called her to see how she was feeling and we began to talk about studying the Word of God; she, who is Reverend Gail and currently in seminary, gave me recommendations on some studies I could do to go deeper into God’s Word.

She answered God’s call to preach a few years back and I more recently in 2012 (although I am still getting used to being called to spread the gospel – yikes! To His Glory)

The memory of us as children, going to church on that day is one of very, very few memories I have with my only living sister. In this early morning moment with God, I was washed over with emotional tears at how God was preparing us even then and we did not have a clue.

Real talk: when He calls you, ANSWER, because He has been preparing you all along for the plans He has which He tells us in Jeremiah 29:11. And just as importantly, in Revelation 3:16 NLT, He cautions us to not be “lukewarm” with our belief because the consequences are deadly – “But since you are like lukewarm water, neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth.”

From my heart to yours, draw the line in the sand and open the door to God so He can come into your heart and help you be who He purposed you to be. He’s waiting on you to get out of your way.  Ubuntu

 

Written by Angela M. Riddick and edited by Grace M. Brown.  All material posted by Poetic Mustard Seeds is protected by copyright.

“So Jesus said to them, “Because of your unbelief; for assuredly, I say to you, if you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.  However, this kind does not go out except by prayer and fasting.” Matthew 28:19-20 NKJV

If you had asked me about seven years ago, would I have imagined Poetic Mustard Seeds, I would have told you no way.  I knew writing poetry was a gift God blessed me with but honestly, I did not have the courage to really expect much from it.  But I love how Jill Scott embodies the poet’s charge in her poem titled “I Will Write”.  This week, only a story will be posted.  Once a quarter, I am going to share a story from my heart, that is not on my post schedule; I am going to allow God to speak to you through me, and say what He desires me to share.  If you read last week’s post titled “Peter’s Haiku”, I am embodying the character of the disciples, because I am not a fan of Jesus Christ; I am a follower of Jesus Christ.

Jill Scott’s “I Will Write” excerpted from “The Moments, the Minutes, the Hours” reads

I will write

Ina way that will surprise you

Shock you and offend

Ignite an impregnate

Some

It is the cause and the purpose my sweets

Poets must think and re think

I will write

Ina way that will make you love me

Well some of you

I am thinking

Think too

You must not always agree

You must not believe me higher

I am a poet

This is my job

I will write

When I finally understood to use my gift was a mandate from God and to not use it was, metaphorically, a slap in His face, (cause’ He made me like this, in His wonderful image) my soul was terribly convicted.  The enemy attempts to do a spectacular job at causing us to believe that we are not worthy; that we do not have purpose; that we must do evil like hijack a plane full of passengers; that we must destroy precious relationships and to even die with our dreams laying alongside us in our coffins.

But, I am a poet. Always have been and now I know without a doubt, that everything I do for Christ will last and everything that has absolutely nothing to do with Him, fades without leaving any lasting purpose or legacy.

If you are the best corn rower on your street, do it to the glory of God; if you are the best unknown painter in your class, paint to the glory of God; if you are the best teacher to a class of what seems to be the most unruly students, serve to the glory of God; if you are the best leader in your organization, do it to the glory of God.  Because all that you do in His name and to His glory – lasts.

You have purpose my dear. You have purpose my love. You have purpose!  Rise up and join me with your gift, as I write, because I too am a Poet.