A Priceless Pearl (A Poem)

By Hazel Holland

            Click here to enlarge the image and read the poem!               

I wrote this poem a number of years ago after reading the Scripture that talks about us being the "Pearl of Great Price" (Matthew 13:45).  Although I didn't yet know the Holy Spirit as I do now, the Father knew I was searching to know Him, and He gave me this poem that depicts our value, and how priceless we are to God. 

“A Priceless Pearl” depicts Jesus Christ who is the Merchant looking for fine pearls.  He uses the trials and disappointments in our lives to buff out the rough spots and soften the hardened places in our hearts. Eventually we see that He uses the knocks and bruises of life to make us His pearl of great price!

Prints of "A Priceless Pearl" are now available for purchase.  As you scroll down the page you will see that the print is available in an ocean background, a blue, marbled background, or a beige parchment background.  There are a large variety of single and double mats to choose from that come in white, gold, black, and dark blue.  I also have a number of quality 11" x 14" wood frames that will fit an 8" x 10", matted print.  Only a few are shown here, but there are still quite a few more available until they're sold out.

CONTACT
If you would like to purchase a print of "A Priceless Pearl", please email me at: hazelholland@gmail.com.  You may also want to check out my new art website- Hazel Holland Fine Art 
http://artfromhisheart.artistwebsites.com/index.html.  Before you order anything please use the email on the website to see if I can get you a better deal.

PLEASE INCLUDE THE FOLLOWING

* print size

* quantity

* postal mailing address

PRINT SIZES AND PRICES  (shipping and handling fee included)

*  8" X 10" print (with no mat) =  $20.00

*  8" X 10" print (with mat) =  $30.00

*  8" X 10" print (with mat and frame) =  $60.00

* 11" X 14" print (with no mat) =  $25.00  
* 11" X 14" print (with mat) =  $35.00 

All prints are in matte finish (unless you ask for glossy). Prints with no mat will be mailed in a tube, but prints with a mat/frame will be mailed in an appropriate box. Bulk discounts are available and prices are possibly negotiable.  So please feel free to ask!

PAYMENT METHOD

PayPal  - email me for my information. 

Marbled blue and beige backgrounds

Ocean background

Black and gold mat (double)

Single and double mats

A selection of 11" x 14" wood frames

♥ You're His Beloved Daughter ♥

By Hazel Holland

(Originally written February 13, 2008)

I was rummaging through the archives in my file cabinet today when I came across an unfinished “letter” of sorts that I had written many years ago. The carbon paper I had used to make a more readable copy had become almost indelible. As my eyes began to scan the writing, now faded by time, my heart was strangely moved... I began to weep as I recognized how far I had come in my journey towards freedom in Christ.

I completed the letter today that I was unable to finish back then... and I want to share it with you now. I sense the Holy Spirit wants to use my healing from brokenness to bring healing to the wounds you may have received at the hands of a loved one or friend.

“This is your fifteen year old daughter”, the therapist stated as he pointed towards the empty chair. “Now what are you going to tell her?”

I stared blankly at the vacant chair. I wasn't prepared for this kind of question... I couldn’t speak. I was too choked up. She was too real. She was me…and I was fifteen…alone and afraid.


“Thank God, I don’t have a daughter! This is just pretend...” I was trying to calm my racing heart. "But why does it feel so real...?”

She stared back at me, and I saw her confusion and helplessness. She really did need me. She really did need someone to be her friend, and tell her that she was living in a dream—a fantasy—not of her own choosing. I hated to intrude. But I must. She must get the chance I waited forty years to find…

“Daughter that I never had, but always dreamed of having.  I give you the wisdom and folly of my years.  They are my gift to you.  May you succeed where I never knew I could. May you win where I never had permission to fail.”

“Daughter, I want you to know that you are very precious because you are you!” I never knew that when I was fifteen. I didn’t know that I was more than just “OK”…that I was actually precious, because I never received that message in growing up. Because I was neglected, I learned to neglect myself. Because I was rejected, I learned to reject myself.

Instead, I learned that my feelings were not to be trusted… my feelings would always lead me astray.  My feelings were foolishness!  So without realizing it I tried to ignore and repress the God-given means by which I could come to know myself, my God, and the world around me. I lived my life to please others, but never pleased myself. And then I discovered I never could.  There was always more that I should have done.  I never learned that I am not responsible for making others happy or unhappy. They do that quite well without my help. But I am responsible for me. The way I choose to express myself now, and live my life in this world does affect others around me—either positively or negatively.

Because of the trauma and pain of my adolescent years I learned to distrust my feelings—especially when it came to relationships with men. Because I never felt accepted and loved, I was always searching for that special “someone” who would meet those neglected, but legitimate needs. Back then I didn’t recognize the victim role I was playing, and so I continued to play it right on through adulthood. And for every “victim” there is a “rescuer”. My needs for acceptance, love and security were so great that I felt unable to make wise choices. So they were made for me by the “other” person who always seemed to know that I was the “right one” for him! After all…shouldn’t I be grateful that someone even loved me at all?

Maybe…just maybe…if I never had to choose then I would never have to lose… Did it work? No! Three marriages and three divorces later I realized that I had left my fifteen year old on an emotional roller-coaster. I would have to go back and get her before I could put my life together…really for the first time. I could no longer avoid facing the trauma of my childhood and working through the painful experiences of growing up…

“Daughter, I abandoned you…just like I had been abandoned!” I am sorry that I ignored your silent cries to be loved. Please forgive me for pushing you away when you needed to know that you mattered..." I never knew there was any link, until now, between the fifteen year old I rejected and the broken relationships I have been through… Going back is painful. Remembering brings tears. But refusing to see and go back to where I stopped growing spells more heartache and tragedy…

“Daughter, you are beautiful! I know that…even though I have never seen you…or have I? Was I afraid to admit it because you reminded me so much of myself? Men will often notice your beauty on the outside before they ever see it on the inside. And that’s ok. You have both. Some only have one… Don’t put yourself down for the one, or be swept away by the other… Get to know yourself…your likes and dislikes. Both are important. Then you won’t have to cover up the “missing parts” you see in others with some of your own “spares”… You are a whole person when you realize that you do not need someone else to make you happy…and you enjoy your own company.”

We all have strengths and weaknesses. And we all need one another in a very real way to help us grow. When I share with you from my strength it does not make you feel weaker, but stronger, because I share with you as an equal. It gives you then the courage to share from your strength. But if I should come to you as a superior talking to a lackey (sorry for the English expression), I would leave you in your weakness and in your dependency… You would see me as the “rescuer” and yourself as the “victim”.

“Daughter, I give you the freedom to be your own person…to make decisions and choices…whether right or wrong. I give you permission to make mistakes. We all make them if we are to ever grow into healthy adults. Don’t let the fear of making a mistake lead you to let someone else make it for you, and then give you all the credit for making it!”

“Daughter, there is no Prince Charming after all—except the one you will recognize inside of you! Love yourself in a healthy way. Give yourself pats and strokes. Don’t wait for someone else to notice that you are “special”. Give yourself the first hug, and you’ll be surprised how many others will follow… There are many loving people out there, and there are also many “takers”. You will be able to tell the difference if you listen with your heart… Trust your judgment. It is good as anybody else’s and probably much better for you…”

“Daughter, continue to risk being open and taking chances. That way you’ll never get bored, or old, or set in your ways. Life is not easy, but it is a challenge worth taking. Life is not always fair. And sometimes we have to snatch joy out of the path of pain…”

“Daughter, you are loved…not only because you are part of me, but because you are made in God’s image. I have chosen to love you, because I am finally learning to love myself. Learning that He loved me before I ever chose to love Him back has freed me to receive His heart for you. Becoming more aware of who I am in Him has given me the courage to embrace your soul in all its gentleness and sensitivity, and discover my own.”

“Daughter that I now have, and always dreamed of having.  I give you the wisdom and folly of my years.  They are my gift to you. You will succeed where I never knew I could. You will win where I never had permission to fail. Thank you for coming back.  In loving you, I have begun to love myself, because you see, dear one, it is me that I see when I look at you."♥

You are Complete in Me

By Hazel Holland

My beloved child, I have watched your every move since the moment you took your first breath and entered this world. I rejoiced the day you were born, and it hurt My heart to see that your own father could not rejoice with you over the things that made you, you.

But I delight in you and in your uniqueness. I made you as the apple of My eye, and I have a plan to see you fulfill all that I have designed you to be... in Me.

However, My heart sees how you run after good men’s ideas and teachings as if they were all directly inspired by Me. But you fail to see that you are running after a mixture. You run after teachings that promise holiness and good works because you never received the needed praise or affirmation for anything that you did from your earthly father. You always yearned for his attention and love, but never received it.

Now you look to other men as your spiritual father... some are worthy of that honor and some are not. Most have their own agendas to promote that are not My agendas for them or for you. You have already been “stripped” by your earthly father, and have allowed others to strip you of your self-respect and self-worth because you have not felt good about yourself. I know that because I see the big hole in your heart that your father left, and that hole can only be filled by Me.

But as long as you try to fill that hole with other men’s ideas and beliefs about My holiness, you will always be searching, but never finding. I am not an idea or a belief, but a Person to know intimately. I am your Father, and I long for you to find your rest in Me... continually.

I want you to know in your heart that I accept you just as you are. I am well pleased with you because My Son has redeemed you by His blood. That is why I find no fault in you. As I am gradually changing you from the inside out by My Spirit, that change doesn’t make you any more precious to me that you are at this very moment. You can never earn My love by what you do...not ever. My child, My love is always given freely as My gift to you. You are complete in Me.

Healing Words From Father's Heart

By Hazel Holland

You cannot work at getting closer to Me, my child. You are My child whom I love and cherish, period. I love you just as you are. There’s nothing that you can do, and there’s no behavior that you can perform that will make Me love you more or make you more ready to receive more of My Spirit. I gave My life for you so that you may have real life in Me through the Spirit. NOW!

You don’t realize it, but you are dying of thirst and trying to fill that void inside with things that can never quench your thirst. These things can only satisfy you momentarily. They do not begin to fix the real spiritual thirst that I know you have inside...

I Am the living water that you need, and I offer it to you freely. But you continually draw back from me because you believe that you aren’t good enough... yet. You won’t drink of Me unless it is through listening to someone else talk about Me. But I want direct daily intimacy with you so that you can know My heart!

There’s nothing that you can do or be to deserve Me. I love you just as you are. I am the Father that you never had, and I am closer to you than the very breath you breathe. I am the Father of your spirit. I knew you before you were born, and I love you with a love that will never let you go. You are mine!

How I long for you to run to My outstretched arms so that I can embrace you and soothe and quiet your heart. I’m always waiting for you to run to me and stay with Me. I’m lonely for your presence. I want to make My home in your heart... I want to take up residence so that we can have moment by moment communion.

But I know that you still fear to trust my love for you on a deep level. I know that you are trying to control what you feel inside, but that prevents Me from getting to another layer of your wounded heart. The protective armor that you wear in order not to feel pain, I want to remove and wash away with an avalanche of My love to your thirsty soul!

I want you to know that you are My child... warts and all. I want to flood your heart and soul with a revelation of My heart that you have never known before. Not an intellectual understanding... you’ve got that down pat. I want to go with My Spirit to a far deeper level of your emotions...a level that you keep hidden from even yourself most of the time. I want to devastate you with such a revelation of My heart... an on-going daily revelation of My heart for you that will not only heal your brokenness, but equip you for ministering My heart to others who are also broken.

Although it may be difficult for you to understand right now, I have broken you for blessing! The only way for you to be the blessing to others that I have designed for you to be is to allow Me to fill those broken places with my agape love. I want My heart to flow through your spirit to others.

Living Water

by Hazel Holland

I'd forgotten how heavy these jars can feel at the end of a day--but not nearly so heavy as they used to feel. Until last spring, every time a pot ran dry, it reminded me of my hollow, empty life. Looking into this jar I see the reflection of that faded smile of a stranger that wore a mask to hide her inner turmoil. But now the mask is off.

What's that sound I hear? I can't tell if it's laughing or jeering… People are coming this way--coming from every direction. They're almost here now! They look like a hunting party, ready to attack a wild animal… They are ridiculing someone! I can't see his face. His head is bent low, and he's staggering…

He doesn't look lie a rabble-rouser or a rebel. Curses are flowing from his accuser's lips, but he's silent. They’re shouting, "Unclean… pig… fool… devil… Samaritan…!"

Those chains cutting his feet… They were my chains a year ago. How I staggered under the scorn and insults of my villagers. Wait! Why are they whipping him again? He already looks half-beaten to death! Why is it that sometimes people behave far worse than animals? Watching them mistreat this poor man doesn't help me break down my walls of prejudice…

I can't stand here anymore. I've got to do something! I want to repay a kindness. He could be one of my brothers. Can I just edge my way through the jostling crowd? Oh, I hate mobs like this!

I hate the sound of those swishing whips. They remind me of the cactus stabs that day on my way to the well. Oh how I longed for the cool water to bathe my tired feet…

I had come to the well at high noon to draw water, knowing that no one would be there. No one to remind me of my failures… But somehow I forgot all about my feet when that stranger spoke…

He was a Jew, but he spoke to me-- a Samaritan-- and a woman! He ignored social customs… our mutual hatred… when he asked me for a drink! He didn't see the walls of prejudice. They didn't exist for him. He acted as if the walls were not real… as if I mattered, but the walls did not!

And then… I'll never forget his words. He gently suggested that I should be asking him for a drink! The idea! The well was deep, and he had no bucket… and yet, he spoke of "living water," and of never being thirsty again! This was not the water I had been drinking all my life…

He just sat calmly on the edge of the well as if he had the whole world in the palm of his hand…

But this mob is anything but calm! Only the object of their rage seems to calm. He stands out in stark contrast to the mob's agitation. Yet he must be hurting terribly! He's fallen again! That cross is too heavy!

Who is he-- this man they want to crucify? Why won't anybody pay attention to my questions? Maybe they can't hear me because of this noise…. He's on his face again! Why do the soldiers have to kick him? I despise people who mistreat other human beings… If only I was a little closer, I would help him up… just like that man helped me up from my fall… When he asked me to go and get my husband, I was ashamed. But he didn't try to embarrass me. He knew about my five husbands, but he wasn't playing my avoidance game. He didn't condemn me because of my lifestyle. Instead he offered me hope and total acceptance….

I remember when he looked at me and told me who he was! I felt sure he had to be some sort of prophet, but no… He was the One we had been waiting for. My desperation turned to joy!

It was springtime, but I hadn't noticed it until then. The yellow flowers along the road seemed to nod and cheer me on my way as I ran back to the village. The fragrance they left in the air reminded me of the sweet scent of acceptance that I had begun to feel in that stranger's presence. The sun felt warm on my face as it seeped into my soul. My steps had become light-- my spirit free…

Oh I want to free him! The mob has made a terrible mistake! They have the wrong man… They must! Everything about this seems so wrong… so backwards… I just know he's not a criminal. He's not guilty. He's not! The crowd is guilty, not him! I have to tell them that he's innocent… But the closer I get the more savage the crowd's hatred feels…

Just like that day as I neared the village. My old fears returned. Would they laugh at me, or take me seriously? Nobody had ever taken me seriously before… I wasn't to be trusted, was I? What if no one would believe my story? I could hardly believe it myself!

I wanted to convince them that he was the One we had been looking for--- the Messiah--- not just another prophet--- not Moses… But… when they saw that I'd left my water jug back there in the desert, they believed my story! They followed me back out there to meet this man!

I remember that moment when I returned to the well… when the light began to dawn… He was still sitting there where I had left him, and my pot was untouched! He hadn't taken a drink-- his "living water" had nothing to do with this well! I saw that clearly then. I had survived on Jacob's well all my life. Now I really wanted to live!

How can I possibly make a difference in this angry crowd? I have to try! I can see his parched lips… Water! He needs water! If only I had… but I do! I still have my jug with me!

Quick! The soldiers are distracted. They're arguing with some of the mob. I can slip past them. I'm beside him now. I can't see his face. It's all covered with blood stains from the angry thorns… He's panting… half-crazed with pain... down on one knee.

"Sir, here's water for you. Can you lift your face toward my jug? I can't see you for my tears. I hope I'm pouring the water into your mouth , sir. You said something, sir? There… I'll pour some water over your face and into your mouth… Yes, the crowd is mocking me, but I don't care! Let me dry your face with my skirt , sir. I don't know who you are, but I'm on your side.

You're looking at me like you recognize me! Do I know you? But I don't live here… Your eyes… Yes… I've seen your eyes before! They're larger… more peaceful… the most caring eyes I have ever seen! Where have I met you before? What? Jacob's…. No! You're the One who led me to believe… But… how? Why? My God! You are Him!

________________________________

I wrote this dramatic monologue one day after reading the story in John 4 about the Samaritan woman who came to draw water at Jacob's well.

A Song in the Night

By Hazel Holland

Chorus:
Carry you through
Yes, I'll carry you through
How I love you, My child
I will carry you through
I will give you a song
In the darkest night
Know that My presence
Will carry you through

Verses:
Even through the trials
Of the darkest night
I'll carry you through
Yes, I'll carry you through
You must walk by faith
And not by sight
Know that My Word
Will carry you through

Take hold of my hand
When you can't see the way
I will walk beside you
Yes, I'll walk beside you
Put your hope in the One
Who turns night into day
For My promise
Will carry you through

When the hour of darkness
Closes in like a flood
I will sing over you
Yes, I'll sing over you
Rejoice and be glad
There's victory in My blood
For My Truth
Will carry you through

Shout aloud to the Lord
Deliverance is near
I delight in you
Yes, I delight in you
Because you're My child
You need have no fear
For My Spirit
Will carry you through

Bridge:
Carry you through
The trials of the darkest night
I’ll be your guiding light
I’ll never leave you

__________________
I wrote the words and the music to this song in one of the darkest hours of my life. After resigning from public school teaching in 1998, because of the heavy manifestations of the Spirit that would come upon me in the classroom, I didn't know how I was going to support myself if I no longer had my teaching job. After a period of "testing", God miraculously began to provide for my material needs in ways that I could never have imagined...

I painted this water color 3/3/08 as I was remembering a dream I had thirteen years ago.

See Link: I'll Carry You Through

Take Me to Your Moon

by Hazel Holland

Let me relish this day
As we eat our English muffins,
And drink our morning juice.
Let me revel in the clatter
Of spoons on cereal bowls,
And knives in half-empty jam jars.
Let the streak of peanut butter
Remain on the edge of your chin.
Don’t let this morning
Be any different from all the others…

As you butter your muffins,
Please wipe no jam
From the sticky counter.
Leave behind you
The customary crumbs
Of your childish forgetfulness.

There are eight minutes left
Before the end of breakfast
And the trip to school.
There are three hundred and
Seventy-two breakfasts left
Before the end of childhood,
And the beginning of adolescence.
How many more breakfasts
Before you will be licking
From your fingers
The strawberry jam
Of growing independence?

Sunday mornings are different.
They’re gifts of time
Because there is no hurry.
So tell me before it’s too late,
"What did you dream
About last night?
What do you want to be
When the world grows up?"
Take me on another
Trip to your moon…

It’s Sunday morning now,
Soon it will be Friday afternoon,
And you will no longer
Be sitting within my reach
Making roads in your
Bowl of applesauce—
Lost in a fantasy
Of your imagination.
Instead you’ll be driving
The freeways of life
Lost in the romance of youth.

We have lived four
Thousand days together.
I wish I could remember
Several hundred.
Where have they all gone?
We have eaten twelve
Thousand meals together.
I can remember so few...
What has been the rush?

When I first saw you,
You were a squirming
Bundle of perfection,
And I was a heap of
Perfection exhaustion!
I still hear the rhythmic
Creaking of the crib,
And the gurgles
Of satisfied contentment
After early morning feedings.

I pale when I recall
The morning you leaned
Forward in your bassinet
And tumbled headfirst
Onto the kitchen floor!
At three months you were
Far tougher than I imagined.

As a baby you were
Too pretty to be a boy.
But I’m glad you were!
It wasn’t until you lost
Your curls after your
First haircut that people
Started calling you, “he”.

I remember how
You loved to make “music”.
Whether it was the jangle
Of stainless steel bowls
Grating saucepan lids,
Or a catchy tune on the radio
That you pretended to "conduct".
You were full of life and laughter,
And I borrowed your sunshine
On many rainy days…

The first step you took,
The first tooth you cut,
The first smile you gave,
The first word you spoke,
The first temper tantrum
You threw are “firsts”
That you will never remember.
Just like the first day
I left you at nursery school—
Your fears and tears
We both shared,
But only I remember
When you were three.

There have been mountains
And there have been valleys,
But what happened
To all the plains?

Thanks for your childhood.
I’m glad we still have
Many days left to share.
I will try not to let
The rest of them slide by
With music lessons,
Homework assignments,
House chores,
And lost Sunday afternoons…
We will take many
More trips to your moon.

Let’s celebrate your joys...
However small.
Let’s share your disappointments,
However large.
Let’s hope that the sadness
You feel at times
Will be swallowed up
By all the fun-loving times
We have spent together.

I will always be there for you.
I will continue to enter
The world of your imagination
Before you pass from childhood,
And enter the unexpected
Upheavals of adolescence.

Someday you will leave behind
The comfortable pleasures
Of home-cooked tenderness,
And face the harsh world of reality.
I wonder how much of me
You'll be able to afford to
Remember in your future?

Although your presence
Will be missed
And your place empty
Across the breakfast table,
I will remember you
With love and thankfulness.
I will remember the
Many close times we had,
The laughter we enjoyed,
Even the tears we shed,
And the many, many trips
We took to your moon.

______________________________
I sat down at the breakfast table one morning after I had taken my eleven-year old son, Rob, to school, and wrote this poem.