Life is not a straight line. It's a downpour of gifts, please – hold out your hand

Thank you for being here. I'm so glad you're here.

Wednesday, November 18, 2015


You think you don’t have anything 
to say, that it’s been said before
that it doesn’t matter, that you’ll get mocked 
or ridiculed, that someone won’t like it - that it 
is not good enough. That you 
are not good enough. You think 
you’re too young, too old, too tired,
too broken. You hide 
scared-silent behind 
your too much, your not enough. 

You let littleness win. 

Meanwhile - another war 
on something begins. Bombs 
explode. A child loses her mother 
a mother loses her child. Teachers hide 
children in closets to save their lives. Killers kill
in the name of “God,” in the name of mine
in the name of not enough. Division 
division division.

Mommy, I don’t understand

I thought God meant love
in every language
in every religion

Blood soaked shirts
the searing burn
of judgment. 

Dear Child, 

Listen. Rise from the tight walls of your troubled thinking. 

Take your message of love, 
of gentleness, of unity, and, please -
please speak it. 
Write it, paint it, dance it
sing it. Look up and smile 

when another walks by. Toss love
around with wild abandon. Listen 
to trees, sky, the tomatoes that grow ripe 
and red and brave and beautiful 
out of the burn pile. Rise up.

Stop letting littleness win.

That nod of gentleness, of - 
could mean everything. It could 
mean one less bomb, one less 
war, one less mother 
or child or country 
on their knees.

Dear Child,

Put your weapons down. 
Love fiercely. 
Rise up - please.

depends on it.

*   ©Julia Fehrenbacher
*  Photography by Christa Gallopoulos


  1. This is perfect for this time. Thank you for your message

    Love, Karin

    1. Thank you, Karin. Whew, much hurt, so much need for great love.

      Sending you love today.


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♥ Julia