She

She had rushed home

Her spirit missed him

Surely he missed her too

But was too tired

To will his arms

To hold her...

She waited

Battling her own fatigue

“Should I have embraced him?”

She wondered,

“Or was it right

To let him sleep?”

She withdrew to the floor

Then the couch

Wrapped up in a blanket

Her thoughts bombarding,

Relentless and piercing,

“I'm not needed...”

She found herself waking

To him getting ready 

For work.

He sounded rushed

And she hoped he would 

Grace her with his touch

She waited, not wanting 

To disrupt his hurried movements

Finally she called out

"Good Morning,"

As warmly and invitingly

As her groggy head imagined.

He replied the same

And walked out the door.

Worlds Apart

Worlds Apart

By Merij Kris

Had Fate known all along?

Did Destiny conspire?

Their humor beyond anything

That she’d ever understand.

She had never meant to

Fall into their trap

But those sky blue eyes found her

Playing in the sand.

A smile that invited

Curiosity to know

She rose upon her feet

And proceeded to run.

But the sand held her still

And never could she reach him.

Despite the hours between

Her heart knew what had begun

She closes her eyes,

A stitch in her chest,

To a truth that she has to accept.

Even if they were together

There’s time that divides

Fixed and constant 

They’re worlds apart she finds.

So into the waters

The lapis lazuli blues

With waves that kept crashing

Threatening to pull her down

Then he reached out his hand

She held fast to it

Surprised he was there

Not leaving her to drown

She tried to remain

With her feet on the ground

Watching him in the depths

Slipping farther away.

Should she risk getting lost

In the ocean with him

An adventure her heart

Desired to take

She closes her eyes,

A stitch in her chest,

To a truth that she has to accept.

Even if they were together

There’s an ocean that divides

Fixed and constant 

They’re worlds apart she finds.

She sits there in the sand

The ocean lapping her feet

One question on her mind

Will she be with him again?

His mem’ry in her mind

The touch of his hand, like a dream

All held together in pictures

Clasped in her hands.

She sifts through the stacks

Of memories passed

A reminder of how

Far away he’d always be.

Faint like the wind,

She could hear his voice again

Singing to her songs

That blurred the space between

She closes her eyes,

A stitch in her chest,

To a truth that she has to accept.

Even if they were together

There’s a veil that divides

Fixed and constant 

They’re worlds apart she finds.

Let’s say there came a day

When the veil gave way

And the ocean brought home

What time kept away.

He stands there on the beach

Finally within arm reach

Her arms long for him but she finds

They abstain

For while her heart yearns

To freely be his

The sun reflects upon

The promises she’s made.

She never meant to love him

Never meant to fall so hard

She turns on her heels

And proceeds to walk away.

She closes her eyes,

A stitch in her chest,

To a truth that she has to accept.

Even if they were together

There’s a ring that divides

Fixed and constant 

They’re worlds apart she finds.

Even if they were together

There’s time

And an ocean

And a screen

And a ring that divides.

Fixed and constant 

They’re worlds apart she finds

They’re worlds apart she finds

And he will never be mine.

In Faith We Must Go

In Faith We Must Go

It is curious the thought,

“That won’t happen to me.”

A naive phrase

A hopeful plight

That the world will remain right.

That He won’t ask of you

Of pain too great indeed

To feel the depths

To fair the night

In the dark, no end in sight.

And with sorrow so great

That you would raise a fist

Up to the sky

Up from the deep

Your battle cry for relief

But He has plans for you

That you may become more

In ways unknown

In ways unfair

You’ll question why you care.

And though your soul cries out

His arms encompass you

And pulls you in

And whispers soft

“I know. All is not lost.”

The power of His love

Reminds us there is more

Than what is now

Than what we know

So in faith we must go.

In memory of Stephen T. Aug. 2nd, 2015

My Little Olyvia

A few months ago I had an incredible dream. I was in the hospital and had given birth to a beautiful baby girl. I remember going home, but for the life of me hadn't a clue where Steven was. Family and friends had come over to see the baby and one of the big questions they asked was, "What's her name?" I remember feeling so nervous at first because I wanted to name her, but without Steven there, I was scared. What if the name I give her was something he wouldn't like. Yet I couldn't post pone her name much longer. It already had been a week in the dream. So the name that came to mind was Olyvia IvyAnn Kopsa. At least three different times I called her by her full name. Looking at her, she was Olyvia! When I woke, the name was so crystal clear in my mind that I'm certain that's what Steven and I will be calling our daughter.

Last night Olyvia visited again. Kind of a similar set up where I was in the hospital, just had her, but this time when I saw her, my mind lit up thinking, "That's Olyvia!" I quickly stated what her name was suppose to be. My mother was there once more and Steven, again, wasn't anywhere to be seen. Olyvia eventually wasn't the focus of the dream but rather the realization that I had her in November. As my mind became obsessed with this notion that I had a baby in November, when a few month prior I certainly wasn't pregnant, many questions came to mind. How could that have happened? I mean, I didn't know I was pregnant! Let alone back in June (I believe shortly after the first Olyvia dream) I had taken a pregnancy test. It came back negative. So I took a pregnancy test in the dream, considering I just had the baby and therefore should have those hormones still, and sure enough it came back positive, magically confirming that the first test I took was faulty. 

Of course the confusion ensued as I thought about my monthly and excessive cycles (sorry for tmi) as well as my weight loss. For a moment I got excited about the weight loss knowing that I just lost about another 10 pounds with the birth of Olyvia. Still, I was swimming in a sea of confusion about how I was able to have my little girl when everything pointed to it not being possible. At the same time, I was grateful that it finally had happened! I finally had my Olyvia!

When I woke up, it was a bit hazy as I realized I was in bed next to Steven. Then in one fell swoop it hit me that it was another dream. Part of me wants to get mad that I have these tormenting dreams, but part of me is excited for I feel I have another clue. I'm certain Steven and I will be having a little girl, her name will be Olyvia IvyAnn Kopsa, and that it'll happen in November. Whether that's the due date or that's when we find out we're expecting, November must signify something of importance.

A Song I Wrote

Too often we fall short of where we should be. We tend to be our own worse critics too. During one of my lows of imperfection these words came to me. I believe it to be God's gift of inspiration, that I was able to put to words and music my sincere thoughts of how much I desire to be more Christ like. May it give hope to those who hear it.



I am open to collaborations for I feel the song would sound amazing with guitar.



Thank you for reading and watching. May your heart and soul be uplifted by my song, Like Thee.

A Little Fun at the Washington State Fair

Killing time with my friend Amilyn while we wait for the Lindsey Stirling concert. I didn't anticipate freaking out so much XD

How I Use To Not Like Myself

In light of recent events, I too am taking the time to write about my own experience with depression. I was inspired to write this in response to a recent article I read in the wake of Robin Williams suicide. The article is titled, 'Robin Williams and Why Funny People Kill Themselves' and written by David Wong on Cracked.com. It's a good read though the gifs in it are distracting, if not completely irrelevant for the article.

What I have to say is not meant to make those who suffer from depression or any anxieties feel like they need to buck up and stop being handicapped by their disorder. No, I understand it (and Sky Williams does too). Rather part of David's article stuck out to me and had me realized how fortunate I am compared to those who are unable to crawl out of that darkness inside them. Granted that sounds very self centered, but I'm hoping as I continue on my words will be quite the opposite of that. I want to give hope to those who have the capacity to mentally get themselves to a better place, or at least those who have the desire.

About half way through the article, David writes a list that helps illustrate how it’s even remotely possible for our favorite comedians to suffer from depression or anxieties. Here’s a quick summary of it:

1. At an early age, you start hating yourself. There’s a number of reasons that could cause this and because of that other kids don’t like you.
2. While young, you did something that got a laugh from the room. Whatever it was, you got a positive reaction. It was one step up from hatred and a thousand steps up from invisibility. Something you could control.
3. Being funny built a perfect, impenetrable wall around you; a buffer that kept anyone from getting too close and realizing how much you suck.
4. In your formative years, you wind up creating a second, false you. You do it because if people hate the clown, who cares? That's not the real you. So you're protected.

I want to focus on the ‘hating yourself’ part of this article. That I can relate to. Growing up I hated how fat and unpopular I was. People said I was great, but why was I only hearing that from just a few people? If I was so beautiful, why was I the last one to be picked to dance or have a boyfriend? If my artwork is so great, why doesn’t everyone else like it? Growing up it seemed like people were telling me a lot of bull. I hated my inability to be popular which lead to cycles of depression. 

Depression is absolute helplessness. For me, I would see myself go into it due to whatever criticism, rejection, or loneliness I was feeling. Even my loud inner voice would realize how hopeless it was to try and get me out of my funk.

Granted, I have been blessed with ADHD. Yes it’s a blessing (and a bloody curse), for I can never linger on an emotion for too long. Depression usually only lasts a few hours to a day for me. Once something new and interesting comes in to play, I’m back to what most people see as a happy, carefree kind of girl. 

But, I still hated myself.

So my arts became my hope to achieve supreme popularity and prove to the world I am someone amazing, beautiful, and worthy of being praised. I was confident that my creations were something of value. Something that deserved recognition.

However the internet is so selective. One person could be an overnight sensation while the rest are like me and still invisible to the world.

It wasn’t until June 2014, that a light bulb went off in my head. I hated myself because I wasn’t receiving adoration for my art and my looks. I was spiraling down into depression over it and at a low point that loud inner voice finally said something that struck me to the core:

“Why does it matter what they think?"

Of course my ears perked and waited expectantly for my head to elaborate.

“Do you like your art?”

Yes.

“Do you think you’re beautiful?

I honestly could answer yes to that question for I have been taking better care of myself and was loving the results.

“So tell me why it’s so important that they have to like it, when you find joy in what you do?”

A sense of peace came over me at this realization. I may not be mainstream and renowned for my art and beauty, but why was I hating myself for not being popular? I love what I create! I love how I look! Yet, how dependent I was being. I was the cause of my own depression!

In that realization, I recalled probably one of the most profound advice given to me by my friend Bill H, "Meri, don't let your happiness be determined by others. Happiness starts with you." At first I thought it was selfish of him to say. It sounded like I had to focus on myself only. Now I see the wisdom. People come and go, but I'm stuck with myself for the rest of my life! If I can't be happy with who I am, then I was bound to set myself up for failure (aka depression).

By sharing all of this, it is my hope to get it into everyone’s head to stop hating yourself! Everyone of us is different. Everyone of us has something to offer. Everyone of us is of great worth. The trick is figuring out what it is you enjoy doing, and taking pride in it. To find that joy in what you do that despite what anyone else says, you can smile and say to yourself, “Oh well. Their loss.”

~Meriam L. Kopsa