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Waters Flow Where Waters Will

There is a fountain

That flows and flows

And never lets up

And often you will find

A blue toad sitting

On its rim,

Its tadpoles taking a swim

As the cool ridges of water

Fold over and over again.


When it rains, the fountain overflows

And its contents spill

Over rounded stone edges.


It is really delightful

When it overflows,

An elegant chaos

Sparkling and muddy.

There is a turbulence in it,

A beauty, too,

When the waters do not exactly

Fall where you might hope.


But the blue toad,

He seems not to be bothered

And he splashes around,

Makes a lively sound

As waters flow

Where waters will.

And I think—

Is not this much like all

Of life?

Elegant chaos,

And waters flowing

Where waters will,

But waters that

Never let up.



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Perfect Companion

I call out as my heart grows faint,

From the ends of the earth I call.

And he comes, my beloved companion

Comes to my side.

This time, he sits with me and leans close.

He gently holds my right hand

In between both of his,

And I feel the calluses on his fingers

Hard-earned from his days spent wood-working.


I find great comfort in my time with him,

Comfort enough to find ease and cry.

My tears rush quickly, pouring out with great fervor

And some of them get caught in his hair,

But he doesn’t mind.

His hair is long, longer even than mine.

He is the sort that Grandmother

Would call a “Hippie.”

But as my tears flow, he doesn’t complain.

He just holds my hand and shares with me

The warmth of his heart.


Sometimes I don’t cry, and we just sit

Together, quietly thanking one another

For giving their love.

And sometimes I am already crying

And he comes and puts me on his shoulders,

Carrying me through my day,

The scent of fish and saltwater rubbing

Off of his robe and onto

My skin.

And he carries me until my eyes are dry,

Until my legs are stronger and I

Remember to laugh.

Or sometimes we talk about the troubles

Of this world, or about the beauty

Around us, or we dance together

Under the moonlight

Before he tucks me in to bed.


He always comes when I call out to him.

But in every moment, in those when I do not call,

I have this strong sense

That he is there beside me.


They say that when you are in love,

You are never alone in spirit.

And oh, I love my Jesus

And HE loves me.



A poem by T. LaReveur

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Getting Used To Invisible Illness

Today had, like most days recently, a late/rough beginning. I pulled myself out of bed at around 10:30am. This was an accomplishment that I want to be sure to note. I got up to, however, just moments later lay down on the sofa with a blanket and fall back asleep. I felt I hardly had any other option. My limbs, really every part of my body, felt as though they had been injected with lead. I did not want to turn my head, I did not want to shuffle my feet down the hallway, I did not want to hold my eyes open. The fatigue of Fibromyalgia is no joke. I never, and I mean never, feel rested upon waking up.

I slept on the sofa until about 12:30. I then ate some breakfast, read part of the newspaper, and plopped right back down on the couch. I slept that time until 2:30.

I feel so upset that I sleep so often. I feel unproductive. Part of me wants to think I am lazy, but I fight that off. I am not lazy. I have illnesses and I am going through a difficult time. I think this time for me would be a bit easier, though, if people knew how my Fibromyalgia and my thyroid disorder make me feel. I want some part of my illnesses to be visible so that people will understand at least somewhat what I am going through. Why is it so hard for them to know that I feel as poorly as I do and am fighting as hard as I am? And of course, they are doing nothing wrong. Nobody has maliciously chosen to misunderstand my illnesses. Unfortunately, though, that fact doesn’t make things easier.

All this Fibromyalgia stuff makes my heart sick. It is really difficult. I don’t have the strength for everything that I have to go through. I thank God for giving me his undiminishing strength to move forward. It is becoming harder not to thank God for getting me through each new day.

I do not understand, as much as I would like, why God lets us people suffer in the ways that he does. But, and that’s not a big “but,” I trust in him! My Father cares for me, he has a plan for me, and he is the only firm foundation on which I can plant my feet. May I forever stand only in him.

May I forever stand only in him even when my body is weighed down with lead and aches and pains and I am overwhelmed.

May I forever stand in him.

May we forever stand in him. Yes, I have illnesses, but we humans all have something that threatens to tear us apart. And the only way we can stand, which I pray we remember, is if we stand in him.


As always,


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It’s Hard, Friends

Woke up at 1:15pm today in the basement of a friend’s house. Got up, showered, ate cereal, sketched and read, and somehow three and a half hours passed until I was back in bed for a nap. Took said nap from 5:00 to 6:00, then ate some pizza and tried to numb out by watching Parks and Rec. Now I’m sitting in a giant chair and typing away.

I am still at my friend’s house. I feel alone though. My friend is completely emotionally unavailable, as she has been for several months, and today is just one of those days where I need a shoulder to cry on. I have been a big support to her, and I know she is grateful, but it gets hard trying to be the strong one. I am hurting and going through a really tough time and it just seems that she thinks her struggles are so much more difficult than mine
(or anyone else’s for that matter).

I want to cry, you know, because I feel the salt-water putting pressure on the backs of my eyeball. I don’t want to cry in front of people, at the same time. I feel weak. It’s hard to get myself to cry physically, too. Maybe if I cried, my friend would be a bigger support to me, but maybe if I cried nothing would change except for the number of tissues left in her house.

I’m back at one of those stages where I am struggling with my whole identity crisis/black sheep v. angel complex. Hard to explain… Equally hard to deal with.

Life is hard. I think working through everything that is making me sad and depressed and confused would be easier if I did not have chronic physical illnesses. It is hard to keep my eyes open, and my whole body hurts. Every time I get a new infection or some new symptom pops up, I get scared. When I first experienced my symptoms of hypothyroidism, my mom said “Oh, I’m sure your fine. Worst case scenario, you have mild anemia.” She said the same thing for my fibromyalgia. It’s getting a little difficult to look at things that way.

I love God, because he is my rock. He is my only rock, THE only rock, when everything falls out from under me. He is good, and I really do feel his presence with me, and you know what, I am angry with him! God is good, but/and I don’t understand why he allows so much suffering. I really just don’t know. And I’m a human, so I’m probably not supposed to know.

So there are my ramblings for tonight. I don’t feel like making all my words look and sound pretty. This post is a reflection of where I am right now, as I think it should be.


It’s hard, friends.


As always,


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Forgive My Inconsistence (Here’s A Hug)

Oh man, WordPress, I have been so inconsistent. Forgive my lack of posts and comments! I think you all will understand when I say that life is… overwhelming. I am climbing through it all victoriously (of course), but my situation recently has made things like keeping up with writing a bit difficult.

So take this as a hug and a reminder that I’m still here, just waiting for when I have more time and focus to write and post.

And seriously, I have so so so many great ideas for things to write, and drafts, that I cannot wait to share!

See ya soon, and thinking of you fellow dancers of life.


As always, Tanya

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Stuck In My Head: Chapter #5,080

I am sitting here, in a friend’s home, writing and trying to breathe easy. Life has not been easy, but maybe I will get cut a little slack when it comes to my breath. So as I breathe, I look around at the home of my friend, and I feel an anxious emptiness. The space is dark but comfortable, with breezes bringing in the noises of children playing outside. I have known this space for many years, as it is inhabited by the family of two of my very good friends. Yet still it feels lonely and makes me anxious.

Perhaps I am feeling this way, in this space, because things are relatively quiet and I have little forced distraction. And I know that when I don’t have distractions, I can get quite stuck in my own head. Were I talking with someone, busy with someone, or even simply in the same room as someone, I probably would feel less stuck in my own head and a little more distracted (in a good way). I don’t always want to be distracted, but when I am feeling as down and heavy as I am now, I would rather have my mind busied with other things.

Right now I feel a cocktail of sadness, anger, discouragement, anxiety, depression, and am just plain overwhelmed. As I told someone last night, “I cannot remember when I last felt this bitter about life.” It has become difficult to pay any attention to the good things that have happened recently. It feels as though I have been tossed around really difficult situations for some time now, and the waves will not calm down! When I think I am about to catch a break, I get pummeled into the sand by a whole new struggle.

It is difficult not to wonder how many more times I am willing to get pummeled.

It is difficult. Understatement of the century.

I am resting in God and his plan for me, however, as best I can. I know that God’s will is good and perfect. I also know that it is very different (as it should be) from my human will.

God, will you send calm through my mind and my spirit as I continue this battle? Will you continue to give me more strength and discernment, and carry me when I cannot depend upon my own legs?


As always,


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