10 years
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“Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace to the hearers. And grieve not the holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed to the day of redemption. Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil-speaking,… Read more
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Satan and his minions always trying to breathe life into old memories that no longer belong to us, to whisper shame and convince us that history is the same as identity. When those familiar reflections come, lay them at the cross. Release the weight that tries to press upon your heart, and learn to laugh… Read more
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The Apostle Paul teaches that when Christ was crucified, our old nature, our sinful self that once served sin, was also crucified with Him…. This truth reaches far beyond symbolic meaning; it speaks of a spiritual reality in which the believer’s former life is put to death through union with Christ.Before salvation, humanity lived under… Read more
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My belief and idea of a Wednesday crucifixion might not be the mainstream view among some New Testament scholars, yet as a theologian and scholar myself, I say it deserves a fair look. Folks who hold this view lean hard on the plain wording of Matthew 12:40, where Jesus said He’d be “three days and… Read more
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Tonight’s writing is part reflection, part elegy, and it says something many healers, empaths, and compassionate people experience but rarely express out loud: the exhaustion that comes from always being the giver, never the receiver. The healer was never meant to mend their own wounds, not the ones hidden in the heart, nor the quiet… Read more
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There are many churches today participating in the current fad known as The Daniel Fast. This is a man-made so-called spiritual activity that is supposed to automatically draw you closer to God by eating things that are on a list and not eating things that are not on a list. If you partake of this… Read more
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the lilacs still cling to the corners of my mind,a ghost of my lovely childhood in my grandmother’s kitchen,where laughter simmered along with blackeyed peas and ham and fresh biscuits I remember her hands kneading dough while the rain tapped like pellets against the window; now their dining room sits with empty chairs,their silence shows… Read more
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you’ve never been thereyou’ve never held each memoryI wear my scars like scratches, scuffs, and swirling spoons striking my body ,faded edges, chipped rim you don’t see the way I gather pieces of myself from the floor, as a reminderof the ones who slipped through my hands like tiny grains of sand loneliness is a… Read more
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all I wanted was a family; a tableset for Two to Four where laughter reigned as King, and smiles and hugs were found every dayinstead, silence was birthed: what’s wrong with me? I sift through photographs of my childhood looking at all the faces smiling, yet they are now long gone and only like ghosts… Read more
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dust collects on the edges of memories living room walls grayed with outlines of what was,photographs hang in webbed silence each face frozen in a laugh that no longer resounds Their love as a vase cracked, yet still holding water,the stems of our shared days with petals dry, dead on the floor, they dropped only… Read more
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How do you write, why do you write; I was asked, and so with the weight of the room upon me and in a fragile breath I replied: Affective empathy,partial hyper empathy,I taste the salt of sorrow along with the sweet ache of absence,each word a single cord, becoming either a noose or a safety… Read more
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She stands in the dim light of morning her laughter weaving through the fog that is now evaporating ,nails polished to a “T”, they catch the glint of the sun ,sharp like a Diamondback poised,ready to strike Her eyes could cut through titanium, or could cradle you like a mother with her new babe; yet… Read more
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the life clock ticks moment by moment an agonizing reminder of loss; faith slipping through my fingers like dust washed from gold by hydrogen cyanide My forgotten prayers all blurred, my guts are wrenched pleading for resurrection from the death I call life, and the light that never comes Outside, the horror of east coast… Read more
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Below are common C-PTSD markers, especially as they appear after long-term narcissistic or relational abuse. 1. Emotional DysregulationDifficulty returning to baseline after stress.Sudden anger, irritation, or rage (often followed by shame)Emotional numbness or shutdownFeeling “too much” or “nothing at all”Overwhelm from relatively small triggers 2. Persistent HypervigilanceThe nervous system stays in threat mode.Constant scanning for… Read more
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In the sanctuary’s stillness hymns flow gracefully ,each note a question:what does it mean to believe when the heart is a closed door, and silence fills the spaces? Memories are fractured, like a child’s drawing of a house with sunshine in the corner with the sky gray which holds no promise as I write the… Read more
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I do not fear any door closing, nor the weight of absence that settles over empty fields as sunflowers bow alive in stillness and silence For over 10 years I have courted chaos, and her friend loss took my hand, as to steal me away then Death saw me and smiled for he is an… Read more
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Inside my rib cage lies a grave marked with 6 names and on the ground surrounding it are the remnants of a boy lost in memories and dreams,starved of life, breath fading; lost beneath what could have been This boy, that I the old man am, are one in the same: He often does not… Read more
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I sit with affective empathy in my office and cradle my coffee while lost in a mosaic of fractured reflections from the storm in the mind of the person across the desk from me watching out the slightly open window as a petulant child tugs on the hem of her mother’s patience, and hearing her… Read more
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Christmas is upon me yet again:ten years have passed,the calendars pages turn month by month ,but I remain as a mere “X” with no lateral motion each shadow a story with my permanent companions pain, anger,loss ; these are true friendsI carry the weightof a thousand whispers daily and hundreds of thousands of emotions firing… Read more
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Today is another day where I am Schrödinger’s cat sitting in the box along with uncertainty, which stems from the weight of possibility that I am both alive and dead simultaneously Hourly I am pinned between the what if, and the never was,a silent empty chair across from me the uninvited guest,the taste of stale… Read more
The Quill of Samantha Grace Newcastle 