Enjoy the journey

“So often we become so focused on the finish line that we fail to enjoy the journey.” Dieter F. Uchtdorf 

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Those who bring sunshine into the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves. – Sir J.M. Barrie

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“Shared joy is a double joy; shared sorrow is half a sorrow.” 

Swedish Proverb 

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To Naeañ: May It Be

In life we are born, we live and we die.
On this day you were born, tick.
You belong to Christ, so you have already died and have been recreated to be like Him.
When you gave your life to Christ, you died, tick.
You will no longer taste the sting of death, only the transition to your eternal home with the Lord.
Now what is left to do? Live…

On your tombstone there will be a date you were born.
There will be a date you went to be with the Lord.
In between, there will be a dash.
This little, insignificant dash will some up your life.

May this dash speak volumes for you.
May it proclaim a life well lived.
May it tell a tale of a girl, a woman, a lady, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a princess, more importantly a queen.

May it be that this dash tells of an honorable woman of virtue.
May it be that it tells of a respectful daughter, a loving sister and friend, a submitted wife, and a nurturing mother.

As you celebrate this day.
May it be that you experience love and appreciation.
May it be that you continue so give off yourself so freely as you have been doing.
May it be that you find the love, comfort and caring you long for.
May it be that your dreams, wishes and desires are fulfilled.
May it be, YOUR DAY!

A happy birthday to you, and many more to come.

©BG Mthethwa

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Before You Fall Asleep

Before you fall asleep.
As you prepare to close your eyes.
Tuck yourself in. Get warm and smile.
Smile, knowing that somewhere far far away.
In a land beautiful and tender.
Though not as beautiful and tender as you are.
A land full of life and joy.
Though not as much life and joy as you bring me. 

In a land far far away. 
Someone is thinking of you. 
Someone is wishing well for you. 
Someone is missing you. 
In a land far far away.
Someone would do anything to gaze upon your eyes.
Anything to be in your presence.
For to him you are a precious present. 

Before you fall asleep.
Know this, somewhere far far away. 
Someone is praying for you.
And that someone is me.
Sweet dreams oh precious one. 
You are more precious to me than you will ever know. 

©BG Mthethwa 

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The Lord’s Workshop

They say, “The mind is the devil’s playground.” But I say, “My mind is the Lord’s workshop.”

©BG Mthethwa

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A Man Broken

When you look at me, what do you see?
Wait, don’t answer that!
For your thoughts of me matter not.
Your words will not change or define me.
You see differently than what it truly is.
Your perspective dependent on present circumstance.
Influenced therefore wavering.

I am a man.
Wrinkled and greying.
Not because of age.
But because of life and the challenges it brings.
Each pore on my skin has shed a tear.
Most would call that sweat.
How can it be anything other than tears?
When my skin cries out in agony
As my soul is crushed
The only way it can express itself is through letting out, sweat?
One droplet at a time
It cries, my skin cries, I cry.

I am a man.
Wrinkled and greying.
Not because of age.
But because of life and the challenges it brings.
Each line on my face has a story to tell.
Every frown over the years has made the lines more permanent.
Etched and perfected by an invisible chisel and hammer.
I frown not because I am angry or bitter.
Oh no I am far from that.
The weight on my soul is burdensome.
I cannot relieve myself from it so I hold it in.
No one to help me carry it so I live on.
In pain I march, I move forward.
One step at a time.
Progress, or is it really?
Hard to tell when every day is a new battle.
The war never ends.
Well at least not in this life.

I am a man.
Wrinkled and greying.
Not because of age.
But because of life and the challenges it brings.
Each strand of grey on my head is a marvel.
Each white member on my beard a wonder.
Explain I cannot, how my head and my beard got to be this way.
What I have noticed though is that;
The more life has happened to me the more they became.
Suffice then to say, “There must be a correlation”.

I am a man.
Life I have lived and continue to live.
It is all I know. It is what I am good at.
This is my gift. Others would say it is also my curse.
But I care not what others think or say.
No, this is my blessing.
Albeit I am broken.
And no, I am not a broken man.
I am too precious.
I am redeemed.
I am, a man broken.

©BG Mthethwa

20150112-205457.jpg©BG Mthethwa

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