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A Heavy Heart

A Heavy Heart

|Fatherhood|Aaron Blakeley

I could never do that I’d get to attached With a depth of belly and an eye like Charles Loring Brace I stoop I pick up these nuggets of pain, joy, sorrow and rejoicing. They squirm, sometimes they scream and turn red-faced. There are no orphanages in America we dismantled them. Now all the parts are in our homes or drifting in the wind. Accept the wind can not carry them. They are heavy Full ...

Anxieties – Poem by Aaron Blakeley

Anxieties – Poem by Aaron Blakeley

|Christianity|Aaron Blakeley

Anxieties - A poem by Aaron Blakeley

Every morning I awake to a fresh new day A gift from God in every way It is early and I step my feet to old carpet Avoid the spots I know are bad so I can ignore them The water comes on oh yeah the shower leaks under the tile So I smile and reach out with open arms towards God hoping for a lift Cast all my anxieties on him When they cling ...

Poem: Sing Into The Dark

Sing into the dark

|The oil from pressed homes|Aaron Blakeley

Poem - Sing Into The Dark - Aaron Blakeley

I am no singer My voice is rough-hewn Cut from untrained ears Practitioner of nill This voice deep of wood Found a song to sing Soothing the young and hard They from dark circumstance Tears like embered ash Fall and sizzle on cheeks Clenched teeth and red-faced The oil from pressed homes With my voice I scold With my voice I sooth With my voice I correct With my voice I love Strong arms lift pressure ...

Dad Journal – Entry #1

Calm, the children, can not have a peaceful morning they have no idea how to nor do they have an inclination to learn.

|A peaceful morning|Aaron Blakeley

Morning is my favorite time of the day. Most days I have to fight the idea that my mornings are regularly stolen from me. I have not had a quiet morning since we started fostering. The kids have a maddening habit of being impossible to remove from their beds during the school days but adorable up at 5:30 on the weekends to ask if they can play on their tablet or watch TV. Recently my ...

In The Same Fashion, Father

The truth is we are all just yelling; always yelling.

|A Bottle of Urine|Aaron Blakeley

What I see is people beginning to act out the aggression they have so woefully come to love. Microaggression aficionados tell us reality itself is terribly abrasive and we should all be wrapped in two-ply cocoons awaiting the judgement of decay I think we all know that this sounds ridiculous, or at the very least is, something that will never ever be solved by being constantly offended.

That Selfish Thread That Ruins

This is the only truly trustworthy metric for life success in fatherhood, career, and marriage.

|Lucid moments alone|Aaron Blakeley

I desperately want to be pleased by the mud pies and murky waters of satiated cravings rather than the infinite Glory of God’s “well done my good and faithful servant.” My reward is Christ himself; my pleasure is his embrace and the fruits of his character and spirit. This is the only truly trustworthy metric for life success in fatherhood, career, and marriage.

So You Have Something To Give

Human love is funny, you can give and give and eventually you have poured out everything you have and all that is left is the muddy silt at the bottom. The muddy silt of compliments and servitude with a veiled attitude of bitterness.

|A little R and R|Aaron Blakeley

Inspiration, clarity, something to keep you going. Human love is funny, you can give and give and eventually you have poured out everything you have and all that is left is the muddy silt at the bottom. The muddy silt of compliments and servitude with a veiled attitude of bitterness. Our love does not refill itself, in the same way, we don’t keep on going with boundless unstoppable energy without falling unconscious or needing to ...

Compassion Fatigue

indifference to charitable appeals on behalf of those who are suffering, experienced as a result of the frequency or number of such appeals.

|An attempt to encourage myself|Aaron Blakeley

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”607″ img_size=”large” alignment=”right” style=”vc_box_circle_2″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Have you ever cared for someone deeply but felt that care erodes away at everything you might have given them. Deep-seated love gives way to a feeling of enviable annoyance and bitter resentment. Maybe the same things have been said with calm love but suddenly come out in frustrated yelling. Perhaps you have expectations that continually go unmet. Maybe the effort it would take to express your needs was consumed doing ...

Those Fond Memories

Look really closely it's there! The swirling galaxies of your own child's potential, the hand of God is still on the pen.

|A moment of lucidity|Aaron Blakeley

I often sit and remember my son as a baby, one to two years old. Just full of wonder and whimsy. The thing that this does in me surprises me. I can feel my longing to see him. To see his smile again. Maybe to remind him that he is dearly loved. This is not something you have with your foster and adoptive children. You might have some very painful first memories. Like the time ...