Our journeys are all so different and yet in many ways they are alike. Most of us begin with baggage that holds us back, keeps us down, causes us to believe lies. Recently, I have been meeting with a couple of friends to explore the implications of being created women. After my divorce seventeen years ago, I began crying out to the Father to show me what it means to be a woman, a bride, a wife. Years have been spent researching beliefs and doctrine, comparing what has been taught with what Scripture says. I have to tell you that I am saddened, no - grieved, by what I have found.
As is so often the case, I am led to do my own discovery and then YHVH will bring confirmation by way of books, video teachings, or just others who are also seeing it. This past year has been my year of confirmation. There are hundreds, maybe thousands out there who have independently done what i have been doing and are coming to the same conclusions, conclusions that are not widely accepted by the body at large, particularly concerning the function and purpose of women. I have much more to say on this, but am struggling with how to say it. I write a lot. Some of what I write is poetry and comes in times of revelation and growth. I was given a series of poems during the time after my divorce was final that speak to the heart cry of those whose lives have suffered devastation on the receiving end of the lie.
For now, I will be posting some of those poems which came out of that time of healing.
IMAGES AND IDOLS AND SUCH by Sherri Rogers (1997)
The clanking of the hammer is never restless
The metal is cold and hard and ageless.
The fire is kindled so the work can begin
Softening the metal for the craftsman.
The image is skillfully molded and formed
Beautifully shaped, polished and honed.
The price is set, it seems rather steep
Gold and silver run high, idols aren’t cheap.
You pay for them twice, they exact their price
First you pay with your money and then with your life.
The clanking of the tongue is never restless
The words are cold and hard and ageless
The fire is kindled by the spark of the tongue
The words pour out and the work is begun.
An image is formed by the thought of a man
And the words do the shaping as only they can.
Contorting the soul into an ungodly form
That silently cries in the midst of the storm.
And the soul’s failure to conform to the shape they’ve made
Wreaks self-destruction from anger and shame.
As is so often the case, I am led to do my own discovery and then YHVH will bring confirmation by way of books, video teachings, or just others who are also seeing it. This past year has been my year of confirmation. There are hundreds, maybe thousands out there who have independently done what i have been doing and are coming to the same conclusions, conclusions that are not widely accepted by the body at large, particularly concerning the function and purpose of women. I have much more to say on this, but am struggling with how to say it. I write a lot. Some of what I write is poetry and comes in times of revelation and growth. I was given a series of poems during the time after my divorce was final that speak to the heart cry of those whose lives have suffered devastation on the receiving end of the lie.
For now, I will be posting some of those poems which came out of that time of healing.
IMAGES AND IDOLS AND SUCH by Sherri Rogers (1997)
The clanking of the hammer is never restless
The metal is cold and hard and ageless.
The fire is kindled so the work can begin
Softening the metal for the craftsman.
The image is skillfully molded and formed
Beautifully shaped, polished and honed.
The price is set, it seems rather steep
Gold and silver run high, idols aren’t cheap.
You pay for them twice, they exact their price
First you pay with your money and then with your life.
The clanking of the tongue is never restless
The words are cold and hard and ageless
The fire is kindled by the spark of the tongue
The words pour out and the work is begun.
An image is formed by the thought of a man
And the words do the shaping as only they can.
Contorting the soul into an ungodly form
That silently cries in the midst of the storm.
And the soul’s failure to conform to the shape they’ve made
Wreaks self-destruction from anger and shame.
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