Christ, the only sacrifice who redeems and heals us

I stood at the sink,58376 (1)

pain lancing my chest,

sobbing silently,

tears blinding me as I tackled a mound of dirty dishes.

Exhaustion weighed heavy,

my arms like stone.


I was alone, disconnected


I could almost see the knife

piercing my heart.

There was a name on the handle;

I strained my inner eye,

expecting to see my husband’s name carved in the wood

But No!

I tried to manipulate the letters,

But I could not force them to spell his name.

The etched letters

Clearly spelled Melanie.

My eyes widened,

I literally gasped in shock.

Truth pierced,

dissolving the knife and the sharp pain with it into insubstantial mist.

I was the architect of my misery,

a dramatic self-made victim,

acting like a pitiful scapegoat.

Reality made me smile.

An inner switch flipped.

Misery slipped off like useless rags

The mountain of work thrown into the sea by a mustard seed of common sense because there was no mountain except in my self-pitying delusions of martyred grandeur.


Self- depreciating laughter,

Cutting through Stress.

A Strange Calm.


The Spirit of Truth and Joy had finally triumphed.


  1. Yes, great to see more poems from you! How true that our attitude effects everything. When we stop to take care of ourselves, even a little, including our souls, how much easier it become not to resent our circumstances and play the martyr!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. That’s right. Tricky balancing self-care with care for kids, but important. When I take time to do simple nice things for myself, and to pray and to write, I can cope with everything much more cheerfully. A little chocolate, and a lot of grace, right? 😉

        Liked by 1 person

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