A Final Goodbye

I have blogged here for almost forever it feels like. This was were I met so many wonderful friends, were I had my say, wrote awful schoolwork essays, and shared my story writing. Well, I now I am going to beckon ‘adieu’ to you all from this address.

I may come back to here one day, and re-take up the Inkdrips banner, but for now, I feel the Lord calling me to let this go. I also blog at Unfading Elegance, which talks about hard topics that teenaged girls struggle with from a Christian perspective, and dividing my time between both as left poor results in my writing and post topics.

You will now see me as Meggie, posting at Unfading Elegance, but I cannot help but linger on the threshold here, and shed a few tears.


He Died For Us

Still He Walked.

He could hear the crowds screaming “crucify” “crucify”…
He could hear the hatred in their voices,
These were his chosen people. He loved them,
And they were going to crucify him.
He was beaten, bleeding and weakened…his heart was broken,
But still He walked.

He could see the crowd as he came from the palace.
He knew each of the faces so well. He had created them.
He knew every smile, laugh, and shed tear,
But now they were contorted with rage and anger…his heart broke,
But still He walked.

Was he scared? You and I would have been, so his humanness would
Have mandated that he was. He felt alone. His disciples
Had left, denied, and even betrayed him.
He searched the crowd for a loving face and he saw very few.
Then he turned his eyes to the only one that mattered
And he knew that he would never be alone.
He looked back at the crowd, at the people who were spitting
At him, throwing rocks at him and mocking him and he knew
That because of him, they would never be alone.
So for them, He walked.

The sounds of the hammer striking the spikes echoed through
The crowd. The sounds of his cries echoed even louder,
The cheers of the crowd, as his hands and feet
Were nailed to the cross, intensified with each blow.
Loudest of all was the still small voice inside his
Heart that whispered “I am with you my son”,
And God’s heart broke.
He had let his son walk.

Jesus could have asked God to end his suffering,
But instead he asked God to forgive, Not to forgive him,
But to forgive the ones who were persecuting him.
As he hung on that cross, dying an unimaginable death,
He looked out and saw, not only the faces in the crowd,
But also, the face of every person yet to be,
And his heart filled with love.
As his body was dying, his heart was alive. Alive with
The limitless, unconditional love he feels for each of us.
That is why He walked.

When I forget how much My God loves me,
I remember his walk.
When I wonder if I can be forgiven,
I remember his walk.
When I need reminded of how to live like Christ,
I think of his walk.
And to show him how much I love him,
I wake up each morning, turn my eyes to him,
And I walk.

written by
Carrie McCutcheon

All I can say to that is, thank you God! I read this poem last easter on Love Unawakened, isnt it amazing? He did that for us. Even in His greatest pain He was thinking of others. My sin nailed those nails into His hands.

What have you been thinking about this Easter?

~ Meggie

Holding Back?

Often the things that we think we can’t live without are the very things that are holding us back from living the life God has called us to. – Leslie Ludy

Are you living completly surrendered?

I’m thinking of my life: the moments I have lost in the blogging world, the times I could have used better, my own laziness, thinking that its ‘my’ money when it is in actual fact, Gods because I gave my whole entire life to Him ages ago.
This is the question throbbing in my heart at the moment:

What am I holding back?

~ Meggie

Radical Love, part 7

Drip, drip, drip
The water from the hard rain that had been drumming the room the whole night was leaking into the servants quaters. It had wet a portion of the hem of her dress. She pulled her dress closer around her.
“I am coming,” she told the servant who had come to fetch her to him. The master of the house. The Kings general. The man who wanted to marry her or kill her.
She smoothed back her hair, checked her dress and took a deep breath in and walked out of the dirty, dank room.
They walked up those stairs. The lady opened the door for her and she enetered his study again, looking out the window, she realized what a dark, dank day it was. You could hardly see out into the street.
The door shut behind her, and he turned around, his eyebros raised.
“My lady.”
A silence filled the room.
“I know why you want me.”
He chuckled. “Why? What have you dreamt up?”
“You want to get back at him, even though he’s dead, for ruling when you wanted to rule.”
“Why would marrying a filthy mutt like you make me envious of a king?” He slammed the table with the palm of his hand, hissing.
“What if I accept you? Then you will have just called your future wife a filthy mutt, be careful of your words sir!”
He grimaced at her. “What is your decision.”
“I was betrothed to him- wasnt I?”
“Lies! Lies you have dreamt up!”
“Tell me! Why did you take me away from here?”
“Nothing like that ever-”
“Tell me!”
He pulled the dagger from his belt and ran towards her with a cry of agitation. “Do NOT speak to me like that! I will NOT be talked down upon.”
Kalila’s breathing came short and quick ,she felt the cold steel against her neck.

“I. Will. Never. Marry. You.”

He growled as he added pressure to the bejeweled dagger, but just at that moment, a sound came from behind her, the door was flung open.
“Release her.”
He immediatly slithered away from her, the dagger dropped on the floor, were she could see two drops of blood on its blade, she felt her throat, it was intact!
She turned around, in the doorway stood a man, dressed in red and purple, gold about his neck, carrying a two handed sword that had dropped to his side as his enemy had fallen.
“Where did you come from?”  gasped the kings general.

The people will see their great king dead
The people will mourn for his death;
But a greater and richer ruler will arise from among them.
He will rule with an iron hand, all will bow to him
The king will be as dead.”
He whispered.

“You were gone! Impentrable!” cried the general in agony.
“It’s you, isnt it?” Kalila whispered to herself, taking in the great mans atmosphere. She couldnt move.
“You used black magic, when will that ever do good? If you had ever been king, you would have read that love is stronger than black magic…
And I am love.”
“This is not true!” he yelled.
Then men came into the room, they grabbed that man roughly, he shouted laying curses on all of us, as they dragged him out of the room.
They left us there. Alone.
I fell on my face. “My king.”
I felt his hands on my arms raising me up, I stared into his loving face.
“I’m sorry, I never knew. I didnt want to know.”

“Your forgiven.”


Real Love


~ Meggie. Protected with copyscape. Read the begining of this story here.

A Parcel of Happy Thoughts

Pinned ImageI am thankful for…

1. God being with me throughout the day, being able to call upon Him whenever!
2. Laughing for no reason.
3. Stores full of good books!
4. A full life, with purpose.
5. Deep thoughts that make be probe the little things others would flick over.
6. Spinning in a dress.
7. Dreaming about grand castles, princess and great battles (dont forget the beauitiful swords!)
8. The song, ‘Like an Avalanche’ by Hillsong.

What are you thankful for? Have you told God?

~ Meggie


Radical Love part 6

Kalila strode down the stairs, she could hear the two maids up ahead, she ran to catch up with them.
“Excuse me!”
The maids spun around and looked at her with eyebrows raised, stopped dead in their tracks.
“Y-yes ma’am?” the older one bowed, her white bonnet bobbed and a grey curl fell out, which she quickly pushed back under.
“With the king dead, who is next in line for the throne?”
“ ‘e had no heirs, m’lady. I-I would say our master.” she bowed again and turned hurriedly away.
“No, wait. Why did he never marry?”
“We are not supposed to speak to you, m’lady.”
“Why did he never marry?”
The older lady glanced around and then leaned closer. “His betrothed went missing, he searched for her, but couldn’t find her, she was to far lost.”
Kalila felt lump rise in her throat, he had been searching for her?
“Thank you,” she nodded, and smiled. They bowed and left her, the older lady looking shocked.
Kalila went off to the room she had been sitting in before. She sat down on the ground and stared at the floor she had left only five minutes ago.
He had been searching for her. He would marry no other. Why? Even though the last time he had probably seen her was when she and he were five years old. How could he have even remembered if she couldn’t? Did she have real parents?
Thoughts of luxury reds and blues, silk dresses, gold furnishing inside the palace, all she might have had if she hadn’t been taken. What would it have been like growing up in such a place?To be wedded to the king.

“But look what I have done!” she shouted. “Just go, let me die.”
“I cannot,” his eyes filled with tears.
“It is my own fault, I don’t even know you. Leave me alone!”
He shook his head. “Guards take these bonds off of Kalila.”

She had turned her back on his great love. And she would never be able to have another chance.
And she wept with all her heart.

~ Meggie. Protected with copyscape. Read the begining of this story here.

Radical Love, part 5

Pinned Image

Kalila sat cross-legged in her beautiful dress sprawled across the dusty, concrete floor of the servants quarters. She stared at the concrete, its grey, cold mass gave way under her teary eyes.
What should I do? She traced on the ground with her finger. She couldn’t marry him, she wouldn’t, seeing those eyes gaze in her face, and making that man happy, being obedient to such a disgusting man… No. She couldn’t.
She stood up, wiped the tears from her eyes and gathered her dress. She would run away again, and perhaps put all of this behind her forever. But what will happen to this city without a good king? Something whispered inside of her. Kalila shook her head. She was no hero, she couldn’t do anything to save this city from him. She just wanted to save herself.
Kalila tip-toed up the winding stairs, she came to the first floor, she could see the front door of her freedom just down the hall, tip-toeing down it, she passed the door of the room she had flung herself out of only a few hours before, she passed another room as well, there were voices floating out from it, Kalila was ever quiet as she walked past.
“No- I am right! I have been living far longer, and gossiping far longer than you have, I know! She is the same child who was betrothed to the king at five years old! I remember her eyes, and her mother. She looks exactly like her.”
There was the sound of sheets being flung in the air, it must be a bedroom.
Kalila was almost to the door now, but she stopped instantly when she heard her own name.
“Aye- she still has the same name and all, Kalila!”
Her eyes widened.
“So why are we making a bedroom for her if she is down in the servants quarters- shouldn’t she be in the castle?”
“Hush child. We’ll have none more of this, we still have the dinner to start fixing.”
Their footsteps echoed towards the door, Kalila ran over to the front door, and flung it open, shut it carefully behind her, and froze, listening as the two servants gossiped about the millers daughter and walked down the stairs to the kitchen.
What had they been saying? Betrothed? But she- she was from a poor part from the city, her brother much younger than her, and her drunkard father, and her mother, which she never saw much of. Could there be truth in what they had said?
Kalila opened that door again, and felt herself secretly walk back through the same jaws she had fled from moments before, she had to find out the truth. Why did she always feel different? Why had there always been things happening that neither of her parents would ever tell her about? Who was she really?

Read the rest of this short story here.

~ Meggie. Please do not copy; protected with copyscape.

Glorious Joy!

A joy that’s shared is a joy made double. – English Proverb

This week I am thankful for…

Gods Power and Presence
His Faithfulness no matter how many times I mess up
Rain, Thick socks and Gumboots
Suspense, for what He has planned for me

What are you personally thankful for?