Inspirations

By Christopher J. Thomasson

Christopher has been writing since jr. high school. He never felt that his work was worthy of sharing with others; it was his personal hobby that he did strictly for himself and a select few of his family and friends. Not until 2013 did he feel that his work could be presented for more than just his own enjoyment; it was then he decided he would like to share his imagination with others.

While many of the poems are religiously inspired, Christopher likes to draw his inspiration from as many sources as possible, and this collection holds true to that theme. The varying topics, subjects, and stories within these pages will appeal to any reader.

From the tears of Mary Magdalene, to the the flights of dragons, to a lone vampire thirsting to feed-this book holds a variety of free-verse poetry, commentaries, and short stories written over the past fifteen years that he hopes will inspire all who read it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christopher J. Thomasson
• Release date: Aug 4, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311380722

Christopher J. Thomasson

Christopher J. Thomasson was born in Honolulu, Hawaii in 1972. His family permanently settled in the piney woods of East Texas when he was two years old. He discovered a love for reading and writing at a very young age and until recently, only ever wrote for himself, his family, and his closest friends.In April 2013, at the age of 40, Christopher suffered a mild heart attack while on the tennis court. Within a couple of days, he was undergoing triple-bypass surgery. Because of his love for tennis and the increased active lifestyle the sport provided, the doctors informed him of a miracle–with the clotting in his veins, his heart created new vessels to transport blood to those areas of the heart that were being depleted...and as a result of those new vessels, his heart had sustained no damage!As a result of this experience, Christopher realized that he has more to add to this life than merely existing–he has stories to share.

Book preview

I try my best to find something every day to inspire me. Sometimes it is a phrase from a song, other times it is a single sentence spoken or read while I am just going about my day. But more often than not, my inspirations come from the actions and experiences of others.

Some inspirations are drawn from happiness and joy while others are pulled deep from the wells of heartbreak and tragedy. Some from the fictional worlds spinning in my head, still others from those darkest parts of my soul that forever remain cloaked.

Of all the inspiration that I have found, through the happiness and heartache, both as a participant and as a spectator; these experiences help shape who I am–who we are. They are what make up our testimony. So, I would like to take a few lines to thank a few of the individuals that helped me shape the majority of the words found in this book.

First, to God: for giving me so many talents, the desire to share my talents with others, and the ability to use those talents for Him. To my parents, Lyle and Maggie: for always being there for me and for being the Godly role models every child (and adult) should have. To my children, Camron and Megan: for only turning a few of my hairs grey. To my best friend and brother, Jeff: without you to keep me on my toes, my life would have greatly lacked in the surprise department. To Delman (a living miracle), David (you will be greatly missed), Michael (the brother I hope to one day meet), my high school classmates, Mrs. Phillips (for not throwing away my first copy of A Gift for Father), Mrs. Foote (for inspiring the musician in me), and Gary and Brenda (for giving me your daughter). But most of all, to my beautiful wife Debra: you have always been my biggest fan. Thank you for always allowing me to be me and for always having such a beautiful smile.

To all those left unnamed: in one way or another you have all helped shape who I am today.

You have all been my inspirations.

-CJT

PART ONE

From the Soul

This first section captures the inspirations and life experiences from my relationship with Christ. I hope each one touches your heart and reflects the love that Jesus has for His children. And if you are not a child of God, I hope these poems will convey that His love is real and available – all you have to do is ask.

Adam

All I am is but spit and dust.

You created me from nothing;

I am nothing still

without Your breath of life.

I am but spit and dust,

yet You created me

in Your own image,

a faithful companion and friend.

For a time I walked with You in the garden;

we named the birds of the air;

the creatures of the land and sea;

yet, I was lonely.

You saw my loneliness,

the need deep within,

while I was Your companion and friend,

I needed someone of my own.

Sleep anesthetized me;

You took Your holy surgical tools,

as only the Great Physician can do,

You took a rib from my side.

Flesh of my flesh;

bone of my bone!

Lord, You took a part of me;

You created a companion for me.

Then came the serpent;

with forked tongue spoke,

tempted us both,

with half-truths and lies.

Of the forbidden tree,

we ate our fill;

yes, our eyes were opened,

our hearts; forever filled with shame.

I heard You call from the garden;

we fled from You in haste,

embarrassed by nakedness and sin;

ashamed at betraying Your trust.

You removed us from the garden;

killed Your own creations,

so that we could be clothed,

to hide our naked shame.

Our eyes – certainly opened,

to pain and anguish and shame;

to disease and hatred and death:

Sin separated us from Your personal glory.

I miss our walks in the garden;

helping You name the creatures of the earth;

I miss eating the fruits from Your orchard,

but sin separated me from You.

Yes, Satan said our eyes would be opened;

but now I long to close them,

to go back to what was before.

Forgive me Lord...

...forgive me.

Balloons on the Wind

A young girl that I have never met inspired this poem. Tiffany was barely a teenager when brain cancer took her life. Two of her greatest talents while she lived were art, and telling stories (a girl after my own heart). But something else she took great passion in, something that was even more important than the gifts that God had granted her, was her tenacity about sharing the word of God with random people.

And when I say random, I mean random!

As often as she could, Tiffany would write scripture or encouraging phrases on a small piece of paper. She would then attach these pieces of paper to a balloon (or put them inside the balloon) filled with helium and send them rising into the bright blue sky. There’s no telling how many people received her little blessings. She was my inspiration for this poem and I can only hope and pray that my words affect people in the same way that that little girl did. I hope you enjoy Balloons on the Wind:

Lighter than air they rise;

every child’s delight.

Colors more vast than rainbows,

shapes: limited only by imagination.

They were tools of her young mind;

used to spread a specific word,

a message of hope, of love, of peace;

of God’s Holy Word.

Penned in her own hand,

each one carried inspiration to the clouds.

on random eddies of wind;

she knew not where they went.

North, South, East, or West;

wherever the winds blow,

countless lives touched,

by simple truths of Christ.

What simple brilliance I see

through that child’s provocation;

to take such pure glee;

a special word, shared with strangers.

Please! Help me recognize

that Your love is just as simple.

Your grace, beyond measure,

in everything I see.

I want to be more childlike;

to see things, differently.

Like balloons on the wind,

send Your message to me.

The Blood of Life

I saw a man today;

Skinny, aged, dressed in blue denim;

arms covered with home-made tattoos.

He lived a life of solitude,

behind a see-through wall

of razor wire and chain-link fencing;

a lifetime view of surrounding freedom;

freedom he’d never warrant.

While his plight seemed endless,

a happy twinkle filled his eyes,

and a spirit of joy about him that,

while he was yet a prisoner,

despite the surroundings and circumstance,

he found true happiness in Christ.

This man was but one of many;

each had different stories to tell,

but because of their faith in Christ,

they will one day have freedom

from those cinder-block cells.

While each of them still pays,

for sins committed against man;

in each of their hearts is known

that Christ has already forgiven them;

each will be warmly accepted

at God the Father’s right hand.

The closing chapters of each man’s life,

will all read the same;

written in...

...the Lamb’s Blood of Life.

Breathe

Breathe is the most personal and most difficult poem that I have written to date…and it is about a person that I have never met.

In 1974, when I was about 2 years old, my mother gave birth to my brother, Michael. He was premature and his lungs were not developed. About a week after he was born, my brother passed away. Even today, almost 40 years later, I wonder how different my life would have been if I would have had a brother to play with during childhood. Fortunately, God always provides and even though I did not have a brother, there are very few moments in my childhood where I did not have a best friend that was just like a