Gina Maria

“Gina Maria, what are you thinking about right now?”

This is every man’s favorite question to ask me. Why? I don’t know. Maybe it’s something about the color of my eyes.

But herein lies my disguise – I hide behind the guise of my fantasizing eyes. Will he ever realize? I look up and to the right, creating the illusion that I’m caught in confusion; when the truth is, I’m just using him for my own amusement.

It used to be fun, mystifying men. But once I learned to love my own name, this “getting guys” game got boring and more corny than getting caught in the rain.   

It’s the same old story. My hand folded on my chin, my lips curled in a side grin. He sighs.

“Gina Maria, what are you thinking about right now?” 

How do you want me to answer that? Does anyone truly know what they’re thinking about at any given point? If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me. If only you could see my fluid visions and dreams as they intersect to resurrect the introspective circumvention of tension…then redirect my attention in the direction of truth…

My mind is mine. 

I look at you and smile.

What am I thinking, you ask? I’m gratefully reminding myself that there’s only one man who has my permission to know my thoughts, even before I do. And His name…

….is too wonderful to understand. 

Come see a man who told me everything I ever did.
Come and understand why I live the way I live…

…Because HE chose ME.

I knew His Father first. His love, His faithfulness.

But as I learned to walk the walk, 

I grew to love my Jesus.

My Jesus looks on me with eyes of compassion and tells me to go and sin no more.

He’s humble and homely, beautiful and broken, 

and as I pour my perfume on the floor,

I pray that the Jesus in John 4

Would be how the world 

sees the Church.

May we worship what we know, Feasting off the sweet presence that comes from divine obedience. And may we see and believe on our own accord, 

Grasping the authority of our Lord,

Declaring healing across the board.

Just so you know, I’m not there yet. 

But that’s where I’m going.

So come with me.

Come and see.

No, no, no. Don’t speak.Not yet. It’s too soon; you’re disturbing me. I’m celebrating.

I’m celebrating because my inner voice finally learned her own words. She used to speak your words. Sometimes, she still does. But, she’s learning new words every day. She likes new words. So don’t speak your words because your words are old words.

Do you like your old words? Is that why you say them? They make you angry…but you keep saying them. So, you like to be angry? 

That’s cool, I guess. Just let me celebrate, please. Thanks. 

Why are you surprised, my Child? Don’t you know you are my child?

“Provider” is my name. From the moment I heard you pray, I couldn’t wait to say,

“Here it is!”  Now, listen. Your sister’s blessing awaits your obedience.

Worry wanes wisdom and weakens your will,

but my Spirit satisfies more than physical intimacy ever will.

When will you believe? Eleven days, Forty years, or somewhere in between?

Either way, I’m here to stay, for the glory of my Name.

My name is near, do not fear, now go and spread my fame.

No, I won’t gossip with you…

…because when you talk, your eyebrows move and your tone is smooth.

And it seems we’re cool, but I ain’t no fool. Here’s my rule – if you talkin’ to me about others, you talkin’ to others about me.

So rather than come into agreement with your detrimental sentiment of our fellow resident of planet EARTH,

I’ll just stay over here

and work…

and think….

 

 

 

and pray…………..

Repenting for pretending that I’m amending anything.

I lace my sneakers quickly, forgetting I hate to run.

Mind over matter.

When doubt clouds my vision, I rest in His promise of provision.

Mind over matter.

Oh, the battles I’ve won,

only to stay stuck in the mud.

Coming clean ain’t easy.

Staying dirty is staying comfortable,

but comfortability is not humility.

Come on,

people of the most

High

GOD.

NOW IS THE TIME.

Now is NOT the time for generating entertaining accusations.

We have work to do.

Because we are chosen,

we do not have a choice.

Now,

LET

LOVE

IN.

 

 

 

 

 

worry steals time.

and fear is a lie.

but faith breathes life, every time.

 

as belief roams from the head to the heart, i run into reality.

embracing emotion,

excavating excellence,

and enjoying everything.

because God…

is good.

 

i know what i can do…

but i don’t want to.

i just want to feel alive without you burning on the inside.

i see your heart,

can’t you see mine?

conversation creates stimulation, altercation, rejuvenation.

isn’t that enough?

i should know better.

why am i still surprised every time?

is my pretty face on my side?

i’d rather thrive than survive,

look good and exercise.

but then it’s harder to walk by…

without tempting some guy.

i’ll never understand why

we can’t

just

talk.

your words, a waterfall.

pulling me down,

down,

down.

i’m caught in the current of your charisma. i cannot stand; the water’s too deep. i reach for the rocky walls of my dignity, but cave into the cavity of your charm.

yet, charm fades. my mind clears.

and i remember that i’m not who you say i am.

suddenly,

little by little,

the audible overflow of obnoxious opinion and man-made morality drips its last drop…

and i can stand again.

i come up for air. i speak truth.

but vulnerability makes you nervous. so you recall a resurgence of repetitive irrational reasoning. rambling on…

and on,

and on.

but alas,

the battle is mine.

because in the battleground of conversation, the greatest weapon…

is…

…silence.

 

you’re quick to speak and slow to listen,

so i wait.

i wait for you to see how little you know me.

see, my best friend,

she listens to me.

once, she said,

“Gina, I mean this in the most loving way possible…but I

NEVER…

know…

…what’s going to come out of your mouth.”

but YOU,

you’re talking again.

and no,

my best friend is not you.