poetry Archives - Turning the Page on Suicide

Posts Categorized: poetry

Iron Out Despair

Posted March 21, 2024 | Karisa Moore

Iron Out Despair

Wrinkled, unkempt, weary.
Sometimes, the sluggishness of despair,
refuses to stumble out of bed, prepare, or
repair you.

Do the things that made you, you, make you, You,
and will make you YOU again.
Despite the distorted reflection blinking
blankly back, you are still sculpted by a master artist.
Love. Be loved.
Live a plump life, hoping in what you do not yet see.

Once again, run barefoot with giggling wonder.
Know nothing can deplete joy of secure identity.

Splash cool water over wethered soul.
Comb out compassion, understanding, and faithfulness.
Iron out despair again and again,
until dis-repair gets the clue that
you have formed a habit of knowing
who and whose you are.

Resource:

Your Hope-Filled Perspective Podcast

A weekly podcast by Neuro-Psychologist Dr. Michelle Bengtson
I have read three of her books, listened to her podcast, and am a regular listener. Today, Dr. Bengtson suggested that those wanting to help people dealing with chronic illness to actively reach out because, often, a chronic sufferer will not ask for help. Example: “I’m headed to the grocery store. What can I pick up for you?”

Trying to make a change in your self-care? Read: Deflate the Bed and Give Me Life

Furnace of God’s Presence

Posted January 2, 2024 | Karisa Moore

I am in the furnace of God’s presence
Where all I’ve learned from scripture
of your character becomes tangible, concrete,
and battle-tested by false belief.

Pushed into the furnace of God’s presence
Shame will not singe me.
The flames of intended destruction
laugh and lick around my delicate flesh with delight. Possessed.
The truth of Your love—a breath prayer.
I am nothing more than a suppressed slave to the world’s whim.
What power do I have against mighty nations?

But I’ve witnessed your sovereign will
You destroy idols and humble mankind.
I’m here in these flames of trust, you are here in your faithfulness.
On tiptoes of hope, I stretch out my arms to heaven
and submit to my Sovereign King, Redeemer, Rescuer, and Abba, come what may.
Head tilted towards heaven in defiant praise, I shout,
“Glory is Yours alone. There is no
other!”
.
I surrender to Your holy presence.
The only fire that consumes me.
I trust You in the even if…

(This poem was inspired by Daniel 3 when King Nebuchadnezzar threatened to throw three young Hebrew men into the furnace if they did not bow down to the image made in his likeness.)

“Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego answered and said to the king, ‘O Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to answer you in this matter. If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up’ ” (Daniel 3:16-18ESV).

For further reading: A God I Did Not Form

Finding Hope In Winter (Haiku)

Posted December 7, 2023 | Karisa Moore

Winter, cool and blue,

seeps into the naked earth,

hope warms. Fall’s last breath.

Marriage By Design

Posted November 21, 2023 | Karisa Moore

Tender tenacious kiss of one
who embraces hope when all seems lost.
One who traces hot tears of misunderstanding back
to their source and chooses forgiveness. One
who adventures to, discovers, and treasures your identity.
One who walks with you,
fingers entwined in quiet. One who
stands fast to protect when your soul
is battered by attack. One designed
by The Creator to love you.

Surrendered to His Glory

Posted November 7, 2023 | Karisa Moore

Surrounded by celebration
Under the illuminating lights of
Ressurection power, I
Recognize every blaring blemish
Endured on the cruel cross for me.
Naked truth. Stripped of
Distraction. Believe in Him. Abide in Him.
Enter into love so tangible death is
Rendered speechless. My ego submits
Eternally from self-indulgent glory to
Dance with deliberate delight before the one true king.

Rooted Tree, Grow in Christ

Posted October 19, 2023 | Karisa Moore

Tree.
What are you afraid of?
You are rooted.
Storms strengthen.
Drought triggers thirst for Him.
Sacrifice multiplies seeds of hope.
Nothing is wasted.
Not even death.
Grow with sun-kissed joy!

Not Cotton Candy Faith

Posted October 17, 2023 | Karisa Moore

This isn’t fairground faith,
Setting up temporary attractions to entertain,
This is a battleground.

This is a crawl-on-your-belly-through-muck kind of faith.
Faith like this knows the pain of barbs and mourns the consequences
of not hitting the mark.

Faith
in Jesus Christ doesn’t melt in your mouth
and jolt your system with a quick high. This faith knows
drought and famine and still
chooses to grit it out and hope.

Hope in Christ Never Disappoints

Posted October 12, 2023 | Karisa Moore

Huddled together, we lit
our last match of hope,
and warmed our faith
by the snap and crackle
of your soul illuminating truth.

Upside-Down Kingdom

Posted October 2, 2023 | Karisa Moore

My flesh stings with the stripes of suffering. Persecuted,
rejected, abandoned. What are these to me in light of eternity
with You? Your upside-down kingdom of servant king is a balm
to my heartache.

Though my flesh revolts at the dirt of humility and
my mind balks at unseen hope, I pick up my cross
and follow You night and day. Faith in You never
disappoints! Tears and songs
gurgle and bubble to the surface like a spring. You, Oh Lord,
are the source of circumstance-transforming joy.

And when my night comes, when all hope seems lost, and my flesh
bleeds to betray You. May I
cry out like Jesus. “It is finished,” and trust your resurrection power.

The Evidence of Your Love

Posted September 21, 2023 | Karisa Moore

Somewhere between presence and depression
I stopped being and started doing.
Repeated lies and nursed wounds.

I checked out of Hotel Truth and
checked into the flea-infested Motel Fear.
There was no room service. No one changed the sheets
of self-loathing and cynicism I slept in day after day. I drank the
amber whisky of my own thoughts and called the burn enlightenment.

The knock was insistent, acknowledging my existence. Disrupted my
pathetic pattern.

The knock reached into the shadows of isolation.
“Hello?”
The knock again.
I cringed as if hit. “Go away!”
I hugged the closest bottle like it would ward
off the intruder.
The knock again was gentle violence to my demons.

The barrier to my soul shattered. Painfully stripped of all dignity
I was afraid you would reject me.

You came into my filth and saw me. All of me.
You, Oh Lord, washed me, clothed me in righteousness.
Confusion doesn’t even begin to explain that moment. I was so
secure in my destruction. You were secure in my salvation. Everything
shifted. My worldview, my understanding of grace, justice, flesh. But I wanted
your presence. Wanted you to fill me with your light until I craved nothing else.

You came into my dark world and prepared a banquet. I’m invited! You’re invited! Come! Come and
see what the Lord has done for me!

Posts Categorized: poetry

Iron Out Despair

National Suicide Hotline