Poetry

Hipster Hybrid Here

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Hipster Hybrid mother here

Tattoos and turtle-necks I wear

Fish oil – not SPF,  yeah I get my skin sunny

cure my vaccinated kids with cinnamon and honey

Kale for lunch and a Big Mac for dinner

I’m a liberal saint and conservative sinner

Drill Sargent over all the recycling

With 12 mpg’s in my big SUV

Homeschoolin’ one and public-schoolin’ the others

I’m a crunchy AND westernized kind of a mother

My dairy is local, my chicken free range

But I hit up the drive through for things that I crave

Blogging ’bout causes and things that effect us

But you wont find me at a rally or protest

My every day struggle is to reconcile

These organic convictions to my American lifestyle

I’ll ponder it over a Portland-brewed beer

Nothing to see, just a Hipster Hybrid here

Hipster Hybrid

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The Flesh I Am

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I’ve tasted, Lord, who I could be,

A heart that dwells so far from thee,

A potential that terrifies me.

Your letter forgotten on my shelf,

I pour my thoughts into myself.

Then dormant traits that lay inside,

come seeping fourth from where they hide:

Selfishness, envy, lust, and pride.

Unnoticed, with me they abide.

Until one day I finally see

This flesh that’s taken over me.

The mirror reveals a sobering view

of my ever dire need for you.

I brush the dust off of your book,

lay bare my heart for you to look.

Renew me by your word and love,

and hide me in your wings above,

For truly in this glimpse I’ve seen

without you, Lord, what I could be.

Proverbs 32

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1  A wife of average character, who can find?  She is worth all the spray-on tan

and highlights she buys.

2She takes off the tags of her new clothes before her husband sees them, and brings him to-do lists.

3She stays up on facebook until it is light

and sets the coffee pot for herself.

4She considers a TLC show and watches it.

She sets about her work slowly, with many social networking breaks.

5Her bed is covered with stacks of folded clothes that will be re-folded twice before seeing a drawer.

Her children rise before her and fend for their own breakfast,

her husband also.

6Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting.  That’s why she buys Clinique.

7Many women do average things, but you surpass them all.

Your Mercies Are New

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“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.”

That used to be the song I sung.

I thought that I had overcome,

But now I face the chains again

Of sin’s captivity.

I caught His grace when I was lost,

And walked the life it gave,

For sinners are in need of such,

But what about the saved?

The scars from wounds whose pasts He’s healed

Are trophies of his grace.

But when His own fall down and bleed,

To Him is it disgrace?

Since I am one to Him belongs,

My thoughts and fears are with my wrongs.

If I plead His blood again

Do I abuse such grace?

For sinner’s sin is understood,

But what about the saved?

I’ve chosen wrong a thousand times

Since Jesus came to me,

And tearfully come running back

Where His love greets me faithfully.

There are no words to thank or praise

This love too good to be true,

That every day when I fall short,

I’ll find your mercies, Lord, anew.