Words of Wisdom. . . . for everyone

"My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires. Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent and humbly accept the word planted in you, which can save you. Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But the man who looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continus to do this, not forgetting what he has heard, but doing it-he will be blessed in what he does. If anyone considers himself religious and yet does not keep a tight rein on his tonuge, he deceives himself and his religion is worthless. Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." -James 1:27

Shopping for Happiness

My mind is like an old black and white film on mute,
moving with pictures of scenes of my life.
Eyelids flutter like the shutter lens of a camera
as I relive the snapshots thus far.
Some are easily identifiable;
high school graduation, first kiss, New Orleans,
others are hopes for the future,
family, travel, publish
and still,
others are foggy.
It's those moments,
the withered and torn
that outnumber the rest.
You see, the blurry is actually quite clear to me.
I've become an expert at closing the doors
to every ounce of happiness
suited up in a handsome penguin tuxedo
waiting patiently on my front step,
that I've forgotten what it's like to be loved
just because I am.
a daughter,
a sister,
a granddaughter,
a niece,
a friend,
a mentor,
a husband's future wife.
So, I come to terms with my brokenness
and inability to make things right again
and fall to my knees.
They are bruised from surrendering pieces of my life before -
but never fully exposed because I wore long pants
and long shirts,
to cover the hurt that I have endured.
My face makes love to the dirt floor
as I ask for your forgiveness;
for Your love once again.
And then, I feel something wet
fall from the place of sight
and caress my rosy red cheeks.
Immediately, I look to see a
naked, young tear mix with the
former life of my knees,
and provide sound to the once muted film.
I now hear the laughter of a child,
of Me -
happy,
running through a meadow
in a pink sundress
with a bounty of wildflowers of varying colors:
a jellybean purple,
a summer time lemonade,
a marshmallow white.
I pick up one of each color and
hold them in my small pale hands.
Skipping, giggling, innocence arriving.
I lift my face to the one I've been waiting for all along
and realize
that I have already been made clean.

(Copyright, Alex Puleo: April 9, 2012)

Seasons

So, I haven't posted on my blog in a while. Here's a poem about this new stage of my life. Enjoy!

Seasons
Quiet.
Stillness.
Busyness, laughter,
kids.
Questions.
Hopes intermingled with
past dreams that have been
broken like a stalk of celery.
Confusion,
wonder,
like a child staring at dust floating in the air
and innocently smiling as it
finds it's home on the red and worn carpet.
New responsiblities emerge.
A tent serves as a makeshift home
as I try to find my way.
A season of self-discovery;
filled with potted plants
and bulbs that lay rooted
deep beneath the ground.
A cold frost over night threatens to
reject and stunt the new growth.
Yet, the potential of the
soon-to-be daffodils
remains unscathed.
I've received
an invitation to see life
from the perspective of a
newborn kitten.
Reaching up with my paw
to heights unknown
and to depths
untouched.
Swim in the sea
of new beginnings.
Climb aboard the wooden boat of forgiveness.
It's foundation encompasses a
history rich with meaning,
and it's deck is the firstfruits of a
lasting home.
Accept the pruning
that comes with cleaning house
and therefore,
moving on.
Prepare the way for something greater -
a feast, perhaps
garnished with cilantro and rosemary
and finished off with
a decadent chocolate cake.

(Copyright - Alex Puleo: April 1, 2012)

The Face of a Deer

Staring into the oncoming car lights
on the sidewalk of a dimly lit street,
her hoofs are planted firmly on the worn and gray pavement.
Her stance speaks of a doe who has life all
picked out on her bed of fruit;
a red apple of garnet stones,
a stream of water to clothe her curves,
and sunlight to warm her tender soul.
Her graceful body is like the feather
of a dove finding its rest
on a carved green shrub.
Chestnut eyes reveal a future filled with hope,
and a past wrought with hurt.
Her soft brown ears are like the moccasins
I wear on my feet in the winter,
a protection against the bitter Arctic cold.
Her outer beauty has been misused and trampled on
as merely an animal to look at.
But, her caretaker has spotted deep within
an inner beauty coupled with a sweet fragrance.
She offers the world this luxurious perfume, 
a scent so enticing that it lasts forever.
A friend set aside this free gift for her
long before she grew into four wobbly legs.
Now, she longs to spray it's healing power
into the lives of the other deer
and invite them to make their homes
in the fields of provision and purity.

(Copyright - Alex Puleo, Feb. 25, 2012)

To Be Known

To be known by anyone is a beautiful thing.
To be known by someone who created you; is even more beautiful.
Just think, if a clay pot knew itself, it wouldn't have as much as an effect as if the potter knew everything about the clay pot - every curve, every crack, every paint mark, every line.

To be known by God is a beautiful thing.
Now, before you click the big red X at the top corner of your screen, please take a moment to read on.

////////

"O Lord, you have searched me and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
you preceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord.
You hem me in - behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
to lofty for me to attain.

Where can I go from your spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,"
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
for the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.

For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand.
When I awake,
I am still with you,

If only you would slay the wicked, O God!
Away from me, you blood thirsty men!
They speak of you with evil intent;
your adversaries misuse your name.
Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord,
and abhor those who rise up against you?
I have nothing but hatred for them;
I count them my enemies.

Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting."
                  -Psalm 139

/////////////

God knows my thoughts.
He knows when my head gets up from my pillow,
when I walk from the kitchen to my bedroom,
when I get in my car to go to the grocery store,
when I talk with a friend on a phone.

God knows my thoughts.
He knows the words that I mumble under my breath,
He knows what I am thinking when a person cuts me off in traffic.
He knows the way I judge by appearances instead of looking inwardly at the heart.
He knows all of the days that have been before me -
He knows yesterday, today, and tomorrow
and all of my thoughts that will accompany each one.

God knows me.
He knows when I made (and make) mistakes.
He knows when I stumble and fall
and how long it takes me to get back up.
He knows my every being -
from my health, to the sound of my voice, to my unique rhythm of typing on the keyboard.
He knows my everyday routines.
He knows that I love to sleep in.
He knows when phone calls will come and my reaction to them even before I know who is calling.

He is my watcher and my protector.
He is my main man that stands guard outside my bedroom.
He cares for me and provides for my every need.
He is not a Hollywood movie star
but the only man who will sweep me off my feet
into a land of pure hopes, trials, and triumphs.

Yes, this is the God that I serve.
The who knows me so well that
despite all of my flaws
he chooses to still
love me.

My Valentine

My being aches with his pulse.
His flawless character is
combined with a desire to live
in a human being made up of flaws.
In a human being like me.
Humility draped over a couch
wrought from years of neglect and abandonment
patiently waits,
for someone to sit on his cushions once again.
I open the heavy metal door
and hear it creak like nails on a blackboard.
Its rectangular shape is cold against my pale and petite body.
The wind that blows through the trees
is the same wind that slams this door closed.
Is this a protection of sorts, from the world that lies behind and the one that awaits?
I journey down a wooden floor laden with petals of pink and red and blush.
Colors in an otherwise colorless world.
An artists true pallete.
My faded Nike sneakers pick up the dust inside in the walls of my own heart,
as the candelight casts shadows on the figure that sits
in front of me.
Eyes of pain and sorrow
interlock with eyes of childlike wonder.
The vase of healing stands at rapt attention in
the center of our small table.
I am a butterfly caught in the net of his fragile and vulnerable embrace.
He accepts me for who I am,
my identity is found in him alone.
I'm in awe that such a man would pick
such a girl like me.
So, instead of a heart shaped Russell Stover's chocolate box,
or a dozen roses standing next to babies breath,
or a balloon in the shape of my blood pumping muscle,
He gives me the promise of eternal life
always and forever,
in a field of zinnias.


(Copyright January 12, 2012 - Alex Puleo)

The REAL Artist

Today, I learned the importance of letting go.

How, you ask? Well, by cleaning my room.

Cleaning my room helps to eliminate the dust that makes me sneeze. It helps me to think better. It helps me to put things back in order. Back into their right places. For example, a clothing designer originally intended for their shirts to be worn, washed, and placed back on a hanger. When I pick up a shirt that dropped on the floor and place it on a hanger and into my closet, I am restoring my shirt back to it's original purpose: to be worn, washed, and hung up.

In a similiar way, I believe that Jesus calls each of us to "clean house". He wants us to get rid of the dirt and dust that clogs our pores and makes breathing difficult. He wants us to work with him to put things back to what they were originally intended for. He longs for his creation to have the order that it once had in the Garden of Eden. Yet in our present world, to fulfill such a task is challenging. We certainly cannot go out and end world poverty or human trafficking in a day on our own. But, we can all take steps together to clean out the things in our lives that are unhealthy in an effort to show the world a picture of what God is like; a picture of what he originally wanted the world to be.

I had become very good about pushing my "stuff" further into the bag. I was an expert at tidying it up so it appeared acceptable to the eye. Yet, as I went through all of my college things this afternoon, I realized that I hadn't allowed myself to let go. All the papers and notes I had saved were helpful and necessary during school, but I had held on to them for far too long. And so, I began reliving my past as I placed each piece of paper into the recycling bin.

Today, I learned the importance of letting go.

And with letting go, comes rearrangement. So, I decided to rearrange my furniture. I removed the old pictures from high school off of my walls and replaced them with new and updated pictures. I even created a small space where I can go to pray.

From my cleaning escapades, I've learned a few things. First, I naturally need to identify and clean out the clutter (both physically and spiritually) in my life. A flower cannot blossom if it's growth is stunted due to weeds, litter, a lack of water, and food.

Second, I need to learn to let go of the clutter. It's one thing to pull out the clutter into the light, but it's another thing to actually place it in the trash, to give away old textbooks and novels. Sometimes, I feel that we can become too emotionally attached to material items. There is an obvious balance that needs to be maintained. Every person, every situation, is different. A child may sleep with his blanket until he's 6 but then may not elect to use it as he gets older. He may decide to keep it, however when he moves out on his own as an item that triggers a positive memory. As I cleaned my room, I discovered that there were items, (similiar to the purpose that the blanket serves for a child) that I have kept. Though I outgrew these items, I stored them in a corner of my room. I knew deep within me that I needed to part with them, but I never took that first step.

On this Saturday afternoon, I did.

Today, I learned that importance of letting go.

Finally, I need to rearrange the furniture from its present spot, bring in the vaccuum cleaner, and commit to moving forward in this new living space. When I rearrange the furniture (like my bookcase) I am communicating that I am ready for a new perspective. Everyone has spiritual furniture that needs to be rearranged, cared for, and loved. This part must be accomplished together. Next, the vaccuum cleaner comes in to remove all those dust mites, paper clips, hair ties, etc. Then, I must vow to live in this new space, to adopt this changed perspective as my own, and to embark on each new day with a positive mindset.

All this to say, I believe that God longs for us, wants us, actually commands us to clean out the clutter in our lives. Engaging in such a task may very well cause us to sweat, to get dirty, to become thirsty - but in the end, it's all worth the sacrifice. We are called to embody this new life as our own. We must be willing to show and  to share our lives (both the dirt filled and the flower filled) with others. When we do this wholeheartedly, a gorgeous painting emerges from the depths of our souls designed by our very own artist, Jesus.

The REAL Milk and Chocolate Chip Cookies

"Do you think I could take this milk home, too?" he asked.
He wanted his sisters to have the full experience - not just the warm cookies, but the warm cookies and milk."
   -Excerpt from An Invisible Thread by Laura Schroff

Reading this quote today about how a middle class white woman befriended an 11 year old young boy who was a panhandler made me think:

-For my friends who identify themselves as followers of Jesus -how often do we give people the full experience of knowing Him? The cookies and the milk?
-For my friends who are teachers, college students, parents, etc. - how often do we give our children, co-workers, and family the full experience of life free from gossip, coarse language, anger, resentment, grudges, etc? The cookies and the milk?

These questions make me wonder how often I have gotten in the way of Jesus being able to show people his true self and of jumping right in to provide my students with answers instead of allowing them room to explore, create, and experiment. From personal experience and observing our society today, I know that our culture often seeks a "look at me" mentality. Over the past year, I have been learning that God can work without me. He doesn't need me but chooses to use me to fulfill his greater work for the world. As a teacher, I've learned that surrendering the limelight to my students has opened my eyes to a creation full of potential and wonderous beauty.

The cross cultural duty that stretches over open seas is this: being a faithful friend, a trusted confidante, and a avid listener.

Elizabeth Lawrence writes:

"There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer, and the morning more fragrant than ever again."

I believe that the challenge for all of us lies in coloring the pages of our neighbors souls so that we may experience the radiant hue that our Creator originally intended for our world to have.

Training Wheels and the Wide Eyed Wonder of a Child

Major events in my life seem to happen in "fours".

Much has changed since I last stepped foot in my high school. For one, I am not in high school anymore. Second, I am not the shy person that I once was. I see  myself as having considerable drive, trying to put others needs before my own, and making the most out of each day (though we all fail at this from time to time.)

Today, I went back to visit my high school for an alumni vs. students basketball game. As I sat on the bleachers watching the ball glide thru the air and the crowd go wild for a three pointer, I found myself in a very strange but familiar place. You could say that I was in a collision. On one end of the spectrum, I was completely done with high school. I saw new students walk through the doors of the gymnasium that I've never seen before and talked with friends about where they were in their college journeys. Many families sat in the rows in front of me on the bleachers with their kids. And I thought, "Wow, time flies."

On the other side of the spectrum, I saw myself completely finished with college. All those memories gathered up in photos, handwritten cards, and emails that were selected to be in the "saved mail" folder. And so, I saw myself sitting between these two points of my life (ironically four years each) and wondering which side feels wierder. Or, maybe "wierder" isn't the best word but rather, which side feels more "wow." I came to the realization that neither side outweighed the other; but that it's a place where I've never found myself in before.

You see, when I transitioned from high school to college, many of my friends were also coming with me. Finding my wings was challenging, but I had some familiar faces that I saw in passing from class to class. In college, I found a great group of friends (or perhaps, they found me) that really nurtured me in my physicial, emotional, and spiritual life. Now, I see myself as a post-grad, completely awestruck about the work that God has done. I am a child staring up at the ball coasting thru the air, wondering "what's next?" I am speechless yet excited about what will happen in this new chapter of my life. It's almost like I've been riding with training wheels forever and I'm ready for them to come off. God is ready, too. I see him the holding the bicycle seat, giving me a push, and saying "go."

But, "go" where?
Perhaps, that story is the next four years of my life.

A Rebirth of Sorts

A few days ago at about 8pm at night, I decided to clean my room. Before you continue reading, there are a few things that you should know when I get into a "cleaning mood":

1) It's incredibly hard for me to do work with a room that is untidy.
2) I find it easier to think when things are clean.
3) I feel a sense of accomplishment.

So, with all that said - I began to clean. I found items that I forgot I had - old high school yearbooks that flooded me with memories, books with notes that I had written in, and jewlery that I was searching for. A part of me felt like the widow who was looking for her one lost coin. She turned her entire house upside down in order to find it. (Luke 15: 8 - 10). Clothes that I hadn't worn in years were set aside in a laundry basket to give away to a nearby thrift store.  All throughout my cleaning escapades, the following thought crossed my mind:

"Cleaning is symbolic for the season that you are in. It represents a new chapter in your life and a future that God has planned out for you."

As a recent college graduate, many people have been asking me "What's next?" I feel like cleaning (physically and spiritually) is the "next" part of my life. We all have so much dirt and dust in our lives, that's it's clogging the pores on our skin, it's stunting our growth, and it's causing us to have distorted views of life. Sometimes, I feel that we get so accustomed to seeing things only one way, that we miss out on what James 1:17 says: "every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." 

I've recently been learning that the presents we "want" are not always packaged in the way that we would like them to be. In fact, I would argue that what we "need" is often what we miss out on the most. I've received more joy out of watching the same red headed woodpecker come to my birdfeeder the past two days then watching the next television program. I've taken more delight in observing astounding sunsets from my house than worrying about the next day.

In a way, you could say that I am maturing, but in another way - it feels like I have been cleaning out the windows of my soul. I've been scrubbing with windex and dusting with a cloth in order to put everything back in order. See, there is a specific place for my bed as there is for my desk. In a similiar way, God longs for everything to be put back in it's proper place. Paul says in Romans 8:22 that "we know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time". We are all giving birth to something new. We are a hurt and broken people who all share something in common that arises from the depths of our being - we long to see the world restored back to it's original design. God never intended for divorce but for marriages that would show the world a picture of himself; he never wanted murders but sought people to love their enemies. A new world is groaning within us that is unlike the one in which we are living in right now.

As a post grad, I see myself moving from a place of wanting "things" to being quite okay with waiting for them. The Bible encourages us to pray all the time but also when we find ourselves in these points of our lives. Matthew 6:8 says: "do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him." It's with this type of prayer and reflection that I am coming to terms with such a reality. My plans for my life have been laid aside in exchange for God's dreams and hopes to reign. Everyday, I see parts of my old self dying in order that Christ may rule within me. Romans 6: 5 -11 says:

"If we have been united with him like this in his death, we will certainly also be united with him in his resurrection. For we know that our old self was crucified with him  so that the body of sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin - because anyone who has died has been freed from sin. Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. For we know that since Christ was raised from the dead, he cannot die again; death no longer has mastery over him. The death he died, he died to sin once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God. In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus."

In this season of Advent, where there are only 5 days until Christmas - let us pause and reflect. Let us think about what we are purchasing and ask if the item is something that we can live without (at least for a little while). I notice that during the holidays, we become so focused on money, buying, exchanging, purchasing, and wanting - that those things that are meant to be beautiful in the right rhythm with God actually become cheap and foggy.

May you take some time out of your day to stop and smell the flowers, to enjoy a cup of hot cocoa, to have a meal with friends, to smile at your neighbor, to talk to the person you've been holding a grudge against, to sing in the parking lot, to skip down the aisle at the supermarket. Embrace the innocence of childhood. Relive the memory of Jesus in a manger - born into extreme oppression under challenging historical circumstances.

Allow yourself to be "reborn again." Jesus conversed with Nicodemus on this topic during his time on earth:

"How can a man be born again when he is old?" Nicodemus asked. "Surely he cannot enter a second time into his mother's womb to be born!"

Jesus answered, "I tell you the truth, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the Spirit. Flesh gives birth ot flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. You should not be surprised at my saying, "You must be born again. The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit."

As I clean, I am preparing for something new to arrive. Just like some of us are preparing for the new year and writing resolutions, I find myself trying to wrap my mind around a God that came to earth as a baby, gave his life up for me, hung on a cross, died, and rose from the dead so that I may live. This gift, the one that cannot be packaged in a box with a neat little bow, is the one that I've been waiting for my whole life. It's that one present that's left under the tree with my name carefully inscribed on it where I'm like

"Whoa."

Now, having the God of the universe know me by name: "Alexandra" - that's not something I would trade in after the holiday.

That's a keeper forever.