Many, Some, All

There have been many at my door.
Many.
They come bearing gifts.
Dressed in expensive clothes.
Promising a good time.

There are some I let in.
Some.
I take the gifts.
admire the attire.
laugh at the wit.

But they all must exit.
All.
Though the presents, nice.
the fashion, current.
and conversation, fascinating.

Because they are not YOU. 

The One About The Fire.

I stared at the tiny flame flickering a foot in front of me. I took my finger and placed it close to the flame. I kept my finger there as long as it could bear, then pulled it away. As I held the candle between my knees I sat on the pew in my little black dress in a church packed full of "Christmas christians" I listened and played with the fire. He began to pray. He prayed for revelation in the folks to see the true meaning of the holiday. THEN, he began to pray for the nations.

With my eyes fixed on the flame the image blurred up. My right eye filled with tears.

...........HAITI.

Around this time last year I was dancing around the house baking cookies with the orphans at the orphanage and making paper decorations for the facility.

My heart yearned. ached. longed.

HAITI!

I wanted to jump on a plane and hug all those children.

I stopped listening to him praying, and began to pray in the Spirit. My eye gradually overflowed with water to the point of dripping down my cheek.

I wiped the tear, sniffed my nose and focused on the flame. I remembered why, why I was here. I firmly, gripped the candle . I am here to groom that flame, to refine my passion and flicker with radiating heat just like the flame in my hand.