marthinaleilani

[marthinaleilani]

What’s it like to be grown? POEM.

What’s like to be grown?

Like I used to think it meant

eating birthday cake before breakfast,

watching movies at 1 a.m.

just because no one could tell me not to.

I thought grown-up meant power,

meant freedom.

Meant wearing heels in the house

and grocery shopping in sunglasses,

like the main character

of a life I hadn’t lived yet.

But now?

It’s rereading emails five times

and still wondering if I sound okay.

It’s blinking at my bank app

like it might magically refill

if I stare long enough.

It’s sighing in front of cereal boxes,

trying to justify the extra $1.80

for the one I actually like.

Being grown

is standing in line with three things

and debating which one to put back

because rent came early

and joy came late.

It’s knowing how to smile at strangers

when your chest feels like glass.

It’s calling the doctor

and rehearsing what you’ll say

like a soliloquy you never auditioned for.

It’s waving to your younger self

through a window made of old journals,

wanting to whisper,

“Sweetheart, it’s not the heartbreaks you’ll cry about most;

it’s the passwords.

It’s the paperwork.

It’s the pressure of being your own emergency contact.”

Some days,

I miss her.

The girl who thought adulthood came with playlists and confidence

instead of deadlines and silent panic.

The girl who never questioned

if toothpaste could go on Afterpay.

Some days,

I want to freeze time

mid-sip of lukewarm tea,

mid-sentence in a group chat

where everyone’s just as tired.

But then…

then I remember.

I’ve made it through every day I was scared of.

I’ve kept the lights on.

Paid the bills.

Chased the bus.

Texted back.

I’ve folded my fears

like laundry,

and still showed up the next morning.

And maybe…

that’s the secret no one tells you.

That being grown-up

isn’t about having it all together

it’s just knowing how to keep going

when everything feels a little undone.

It’s crying in the shower

and singing five minutes later.

It’s breaking down in the car

and still remembering to buy oat milk.

It’s choosing to believe,

even now,

that something beautiful

is still on its way.

So what’s it like to be grown?

Honestly?

It’s hard.

It’s holy.

It’s heavy.

But somehow

it’s mine.

And that has to count for something.

@marthinaleilani

[marthinaleilani]

I Hope You Love Tea. Poem.

I Hope You Love Tea.

I hope you love tea,

because I’ve got coffee

but I might run out of milk.

I never plan ahead for mornings,

let alone for you to still be here.

And it’s strange, how I’m always prepared

to apologize for things that haven’t even gone wrong yet.

But you’re smiling,

and you’re patient,

watching me dance between cabinets

pretending to look for something else,

because admitting that I’m anxious

might make this moment too real.

And I’ve never been good at real,

because real is awkward laughter

and eyes that hold conversations louder than voices.

Real is spilled sugar on countertops,

and the quiet way you reach for the towel,

like you’ve been here,

doing this,

a hundred quiet mornings before.

“Tea is perfect,” you say,

and relief pours out from a kettle I didn’t know was boiling,

as though your acceptance of tea

is acceptance of me,

with all my clumsy miscalculations,

my coffee-with-no-milk kind of chaos.

So we drink something warm,

and conversation drifts

from jokes that only make sense today,

to silences that aren’t lonely,

to truths I’d usually hide

behind busy hands and coffee cups,

quietly learning that spontaneity

can taste a lot like safety,

like breathing slowly,

like mornings becoming softer

in ways I’d forgotten they could be.

And when the cups empty,

you linger,

not rushing out into your day,

as if to say,

“You don’t have to be prepared

to be enough.”

@marthinaleilani

[marthinaleilani]

A Letter In Faith. Poem.

A Letter In Faith.

Hello Love,

I do not know your name yet.

I do not know the weight of your voice,

the sound of your laughter,

or how your footsteps fall beside mine.

But I know you are out there

not by wishful thinking,

not by longing alone,

but by faith.

Because my God is a God who writes love stories,

who weaves threads unseen,

who moves hearts like rivers

and brings them to places they never knew they were meant to be.

And so, I will wait.

Not passively, not desperately,

but expectantly!

like Ruth gathering grain, unaware she was stepping into her own redemption.

Like Rebekah, drawing water from a well,

not knowing she was about to be chosen.

Like Esther, preparing for a purpose greater than herself.

I will leave rose petals on the staircases,

tuck love notes between Genesis and Revelation,

fill the library with poetry only you will understand.

I will dance in the great hall barefoot,

dragging you with me,

laughing as our footsteps echo

like we are the only two souls in the world.

Because when that time comes

when the story God is writing unfolds before us,

I will know that every step,

every tear,

every whispered prayer in the quiet of waiting

was never wasted.

I will press my hands against the wooden pews,

feel the weight of centuries of prayers

resting beneath my fingertips.

I will trace His name into the candlelight,

watching the flames flicker like they are bowing in reverence,

like they know the sound of their Maker’s voice.

And when the evening turns the sky into a watercolor of wonder,

when the stars blink like they remember the day they were named,

I will take your hand and whisper,

“Look, love, we are standing in a world He has already written for us.”

And if I love, let it be like this

not out of loneliness, not out of fear,

but out of the overflow of the love I have already found in Christ.

Because love: “real love”

is not something I chase,

but something I receive,

something I steward,

something He breathes into existence

in His perfect time.

And until that day,

I will be here,

becoming, preparing, trusting.

Because I know,

somewhere beyond this moment,

God is writing us together.

And one day, I will find you

right where He intended.

Until then, I wait.

@marthinaleilani

[marthinaleilani]

“ Where the Sunflowers Turn ” Poem.

_Where the Sunflowers Turn_

They say life is random,

a collection of accidents,

strung together like beads on a fraying thread,

each moment a dice roll,

each meeting a mistake that just happened to feel right.

They say it’s chaos,

but chaos has never felt so precise.

I have stepped out my door

at the exact moment

a stranger needed kindness,

worn a sweater in a color

that matched the mood of a day

I didn’t see coming.

I have stood under a sky

where a single cloud

drifted into the shape of a thought

I had yet to speak aloud.

Coincidence?

Some call it fate.

Some call it luck.

Some say the universe is just

a machine turning gears,

an algorithm of infinite numbers,

solving for X with no intention,

no meaning,

no love.

But I call it by its true name

God.

The same hands that painted

roses with velvet,

that whispered gravity into motion,

that told the ocean where to rest

and the stars where to shine,

those hands have traced my every step,

long before I knew I was walking.

They say everything is a theory,

a puzzle for us to solve.

Tesla searched for energy unseen,

Einstein chased time itself,

while philosophers built walls of words,

trying to make sense of the madness.

But they never looked close enough.

Never saw the quiet symmetry;

the love woven between seconds,

the fingerprints of the Divine.

The numbers don’t lie,

they tell me.

And I agree

because the numbers whisper back

that a flower opening at dawn

follows the same golden spiral

as galaxies spinning in the void.

The way the tide pulls back

when it has gone too far

the way my heart knew to let go

when God called me forward.

The world isn’t guessing,

it’s moving.

Everything turns in a rhythm

set long before the first note was sung.

And so I trust.

I trust the days that don’t make sense,

the seasons where nothing blooms,

the faces I meet after closing my front door,

because I know they were placed

on my path by design.

I trust the unanswered prayers

that turned into greater mercies,

the nights that broke me

but somehow built something stronger.

There are no accidents.

Not in the way I am drawn to the scent of jasmine,

or the way a sunflower tilts its head

toward the sun

even on the cloudiest days.

I am no different.

I will keep turning,

keep following the light,

keep believing in the conspiracy of love

the kind of love that knew my name

before I was ever called.

The kind of love that never gets it wrong.

@marthinaleilani

[marthinaleilani]

Ink & Anesthesia. Poem.

The sketch in my notebook has another face beneath the lines.

I pressed too hard with the pencil,

tried to erase it, but ghosts don’t go so easily.

Does that bother you?

Knowing the first draft wasn’t you,

that my hands were tracing shadows

before they learned the shape of something real?

I tell myself it doesn’t matter:

art is just revision, love is just rewriting.

I could cross out every old name,

but the paper still remembers the weight of them.

The prescription on my nightstand has my name spelled wrong.

Different doctors, different hands,

but they all scribble the same remedy:

Take this, sleep more, feel less,

try not to let your mind outrun your body.

Try not to mistake poetry for pulse.

But what if I do?

What if I treat ink like anesthesia,

let words numb the ache before the medicine does?

What if I need the pen more than the pill,

what if the pages are the only hands that ever hold me right?

They say art isn’t therapy,

but I’ve been writing myself back to life for years.

I’ve stitched my skin with sentences,

stitched my heart with metaphors,

and maybe love is just another dream I diagnosed wrong.

Maybe you’re the first thing I’ve ever gotten right.

So if you read my words and find echoes of someone before you,

don’t let it make you doubt.

I wasn’t rewriting the past,

I was practicing for the future:

for you.

@marthinaleilani

[marthinaleilani]

Dreams of Him. Poem.

I dream of him.

Not just in the way little girls do,

not just in white veils and wedding bells,

but in the quiet moments,

the soft, sacred kind of love

that feels like home before I even step inside.

Will he pick a flower for me?

Will he brush the dust from its petals,

hold it between calloused fingers,

whisper a prayer before tucking it behind my ear?

Will he sit with me under the weight of the sky,

pointing out constellations like scripture,

like love letters written in light,

reminding me that the same God who names the stars

is the one who wrote my name into his heart?

I dream of him

of the way he loves God first,

how his faith is not just words,

but the way he walks,

the way he kneels,

the way he lifts his hands

and knows that love is something given,

not just taken.

Will he pray for me before he even knows my name?

Will he wake up with my face in his spirit,

asking God to shape him into the man I need,

even before he finds me?

I dream of Sunday mornings with him,

Bibles open, coffee warm,

his voice reading Psalms into the quiet,

his hand resting over mine,

a love that worships before it even whispers,

a love that knows

we are not each other’s savior

but we can be reflections

of the One who is.

And when he finally finds me,

when the waiting turns into a meeting,

when the dream becomes something real

Will he smile like he knew?

Like he always knew?

Because maybe, just maybe,

he’s been dreaming of me too.

@marthinaleilani

[marthinaleilani]

What if He Never Rose? Poem.

What if He never rose?

What if the stone stayed put, the grave untouched,

sealed in silence, wrapped in finality?

What if death had the final word,

its echoes stretching across eternity

with no voice to answer back?

Would love still have a name?

Would mercy still have meaning?

Would we wander this world

chasing second chances that never come,

writing prayers that never reach past the ceiling?

What if He never rose?

Would the broken stay shattered,

dreams dissolving like dust in the wind,

hope slipping through fingers like sand?

Would we walk with heads low,

shadows clinging to our backs,

living in yesterday, fearing tomorrow?

But He did rise.

And that changes everything.

It means graves don’t get to keep what God calls to life.

It means scars tell stories, not tragedies.

It means ashes become beauty,

tears water fields of joy,

and what was once lost

can be found in the light of an empty tomb.

Because He rose, I rise.

Because He lives, I live.

Because He won, I walk free.

No chains, no fear, no death to dread.

Just grace like an ocean,

just love like a flood,

just a God who rewrote the ending

and made it a beginning.

So tell me, what will you do with this life,

now that the grave is empty?

@marthinaleilani

[marthinaleilani]

Infinite Chaos, Perfect Stillness: Why Being Small is the Biggest Thing.

There’s a quiet kind of magic in lying flat on your back in the grass, staring up at a canopy of trees that stretch endlessly skyward. In that moment, everything feels still, yet alive. The shade cools your skin, birdsong fills the air, and the breeze, crisp and tender, brushes past like nature whispering, “You’re exactly where you need to be.”

And then your thoughts wander, as they do. Trees; those silent giants; are casually pulling off miracles every second. Sipping sunlight, drinking deep from invisible underground rivers, turning carbon into oxygen like it’s no big deal. While we race through life juggling deadlines, they’re over here saying, “Photosynthesis, baby. Relax.”

Even the grass beneath you; soft and unassuming; is a jungle in miniature. Blades of green host bustling ecosystems teeming with life forms too small to see but too essential to ignore. Beneath that thin layer of earth, microorganisms; tiny architects of existence; are at work. Some are heroes, keeping you alive, while others might be scheming to gift you your next cold. It’s a chaotic world down there, but without it? There’s no you.

You feel small lying there, surrounded by this hidden universe of life, movement, and energy. And yet, paradoxically, you also feel immense. Because here you are. In a universe 13.8 billion years old, where stars live and die and galaxies spin into infinity, you exist. You, with your thoughts, dreams, and messy emotions, are alive, right now.

It’s funny how peace sneaks up on you when you finally slow down. When you stop scrolling, stop chasing, and just be. That’s when you realize: the world isn’t made for perfect people with pristine lives and flawless plans. It’s made for the curious, for the overthinkers, for those who get lost in the why of it all. For people like us, whose brains flip between wondering if pigeons dream and marveling at the sunlight filtering through the leaves.

That sunlight; soft, golden, fragmented by the trees; isn’t just beautiful. It’s a reminder. Even in a world full of chaos, there’s clarity. Even in a life that’s messy and unpredictable, there are moments so breathtaking they bring everything into focus. Watching the light dance between the leaves is like stumbling upon poetry you didn’t know you needed; a gentle nudge to notice the little miracles unfolding all around you.

And here’s the most profound realization of all: being small is not a flaw; it’s a superpower. We’re small enough to be humbled by the stars but big enough to leave footprints in someone’s life. Small enough to marvel at sunlight but big enough to shape a future. Our moments of laughter, tears, and love might feel like whispers in the universe, but to the people who matter, they’re the loudest things in the world.

Life is messy, unpredictable, and often overwhelming. But it’s also ridiculous, hilarious, and heartbreakingly beautiful. It’s in the little things; the way sunlight warms your skin, the rhythm of your breath, the absurdity of life on this spinning rock in space; that we find the extraordinary.

So, the next time the world feels too loud, remember this: you are both small and immense. A speck in the grand scheme but the center of your own story. Take a breath, look around, and let yourself be amazed. Because the little things? They’re not so little after all.

@marthinaleilani

[marthinaleilani]

“The Unchanging Need for God”

It’s easy to lean on God when life feels like a storm; when the waves crash, and we have nothing but faith to keep us afloat. In our darkest hours, desperation drives us to our knees, crying out for His strength, His guidance, His mercy.

But what about our best days?

On the mountaintops of life, when the sun shines bright and the winds of trouble are but a whisper, it’s tempting to forget our need for Him. Success, happiness, and comfort can lull us into a false sense of independence, as if we’ve outgrown the desperate dependence that once tethered us to God.

And sometimes, we go a step further. We plead with Him in our valleys, make promises, and create lists of needs; “God, if you get me through this, I’ll be different.” But as soon as He intervenes, we take the credit for ourselves. We throw a celebration for our strength, our resilience, our accomplishments, and quietly edge God out of the picture.

How often do we treat God like an emergency contact? When we’ve exhausted all our own plans, then we call on Him. And when He shows up; because He always does; we let gratitude fade as we drift back into self-reliance.

Let’s reflect on this for a moment.

Think of a time when you faced an impossible situation; a sickness, a financial crisis, or heartbreak. You prayed, “Lord, if You just fix this, I will live for You.” And then, when the sickness was healed, the bills were paid, or the relationship restored, life became good again. Slowly, the desperation faded, and with it, so did the commitment.

This cycle isn’t new. In the Bible, we see the Israelites cry out to God in the wilderness, only to turn away when their needs were met. It’s human nature to seek Him in moments of desperation and forget Him in seasons of ease.

But our relationship with God is meant to go beyond crisis management. Desperation for God should stem from our love for Him, our gratitude for His constant presence, and our recognition of how deeply we need Him in every moment; good or bad.

Like the time you prayed endlessly for a job after months of unemployment, and God opened a door. Instead of thinking, “I got this because of my skills,” what if you paused to say, “Thank You, Lord, for the opportunities and abilities You’ve given me”?. Or maybe when You begged for healing from an illness, and God provided. What if the lesson isn’t just in the healing but in using your renewed health to glorify Him?. Or even that time you achieved a personal or professional milestone. Rather than solely celebrating yourself, reflect on how God was with you through every step, even in the moments you doubted.

Our desperation for God isn’t a sign of weakness; it’s a declaration of the truth: I can’t do this on my own. Whether we’re struggling to survive or thriving in success, our need for Him should never change.

So what can we do to stay rooted?

1. Cultivate Gratitude Daily

Write down one way God has blessed you, big or small, every day. Gratitude keeps us mindful of His presence in every moment.

2. Seek Him in the Small Things

Don’t wait for a crisis to pray. Bring Him into your daily decisions, joys, and struggles.

3. Acknowledge His Hand in Your Triumphs

Before you pat yourself on the back, take a moment to thank God for the strength, resources, and opportunities He’s provided.

4. Stay in His Word

The Bible is a constant reminder of who He is and how deeply He loves us, even when we drift.

5. Foster a Relationship, Not a Transaction

God doesn’t just want to answer our prayers; He wants a relationship with us. Spend time with Him not because you need something, but because you love Him.

Let this be a reminder: our darkest moments might drive us to God, but our brightest ones should keep us there. The same God who lifts us from the valleys is the One who crowns us with blessings on the peaks. May we never forget that every breath, every victory, every joy is from Him.

On our best day or our worst, we need God; always, desperately, and unchangingly. And that, I pray, is something we will never forget.

@marthinaleilani

[marthinaleilani]

“Friendships: The Beautiful Evolution of Your Circle”

Have you ever noticed how the older you get, the harder it seems to make new friends? It’s a strange feeling; like the world, once full of endless possibilities, suddenly narrows down, and the number of people you connect with diminishes. You remember the carefree days of your youth when making friends was as easy as a shared laugh or a spontaneous adventure. But now, as life gets busier and you settle into routines, the friendships you once thought would last forever begin to change. Suddenly, you’re left reflecting on the beautiful, yet sometimes painful, evolution of your social circle.

The Struggle to Keep Up

One of the most profound realizations that comes with age is how difficult it becomes to maintain friendships. As your life gets busier with career goals, family commitments, and personal growth, it feels like there’s barely enough time for the friendships that have lasted over the years. Your large group of friends, once brimming with energy and excitement, gradually shrinks. Those spontaneous hangouts become fewer and fewer. Instead of a wide network, you start to settle into a smaller, more intimate group; perhaps just four close friends, or a core triangle of three constants who have stood the test of time.

It’s easy to feel guilty about this, especially when you still find yourself longing for those carefree moments of spontaneous laughter or travel plans that seem impossible to organize. You see a WhatsApp group for that long-postponed trip that everyone talks about but no one books. Your calendars never align, and the idea of catching up with that one friend feels like a distant dream. Instead, you find yourselves liking Instagram posts and sharing memes, the depth of conversation reduced to fleeting comments or emojis. Birthdays are celebrated with old pictures, because honestly, there aren’t many new ones to share anymore.

But here’s the reality: that shift isn’t necessarily a loss. It’s simply the natural course of life. As you grow, your friendships evolve. The people who were once a part of your daily life may no longer be present, but the ones who remain are the ones who truly matter.

The Silent Bonds That Endure

Even though the world may get quieter and your social circle smaller, it’s important to recognize the true beauty of these enduring friendships. The ones that stick around through all your moods and phases; those are the relationships worth cherishing. These friendships don’t require constant communication to stay strong. They withstand time and distance, reminding you that sometimes, true friends are the ones who just get you, no matter how much time passes between your last conversation.

There will always be those friends who make it; who continue to walk beside you through your highs and lows, through the ups and downs of life. These are the friends who know your past, understand your present, and stand by you as you work toward your future. They are the ones who never question your worth, even when you question your own. They don’t walk away during your tough seasons, and they don’t leave when life gets complicated. They remind you that the saying is true: “A friend in need is a friend indeed.” You can’t get rid of them, and honestly, you wouldn’t want to.

Choosing the Right Friends: The Power of Early Decisions

The truth is, the friends you choose in the beginning; those early connections; have an immense power over your life. The choices you make regarding who you invite into your inner circle will shape the person you become, for better or worse. Friendships are not merely social connections; they are mirrors of your values, your ambitions, and your heart. A bad influence, a toxic relationship, or a friend who doesn’t share your vision can slowly pull you off course, leading you away from your true potential. On the flip side, choosing friends who inspire, challenge, and support you can elevate your life in ways you never imagined.

Think about it; your friends are the ones who will influence your decisions, your outlook, and even your self-worth. They’ll either encourage you to take risks and dream big, or they’ll keep you tethered to comfort zones and discourage you from pursuing your passions. A friendship can either light the fire within you or snuff it out. It’s why the company you keep is crucial; it can either build you up or tear you down.

We often hear the saying, “You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.” And it’s true. Those early friendships lay the foundation for the kind of person you grow into. Will you be surrounded by friends who challenge you to be better, or will you be held back by those who don’t understand your drive or growth? That decision, at its core, is one of the most important you’ll make. As painful as it may be at times to let go of people who no longer align with your path, it’s essential to recognize when those relationships no longer serve your greater purpose.

Quality Over Quantity

One thing becomes abundantly clear: quality matters more than quantity. You may have once dreamed of being surrounded by a huge group of friends, but as time goes on, you learn to value the depth of the connections you have over the number of people in your circle. Those friends who stay, who support you, who challenge you to grow; those are the friends who define your life.

And it’s not just about the good times. The best friendships are often forged in the fire of hardship. Those who stick with you during your low points, who walk beside you when the world seems to be crumbling, are the ones who have proven themselves worthy of your trust. They are the ones who celebrate your victories, no matter how small, and encourage you when you feel like giving up.

Remember, It’s Okay to Let Go

As much as we cherish the friends who remain, it’s also okay to let go of those who no longer fit into your life. People change, and so do friendships. It’s natural to outgrow relationships, and while it can be sad, it’s also a chance to make space for new ones that align better with your values and goals. Not every person you meet is meant to be in your life forever, and that’s okay. What’s important is recognizing the friends who are there for the long haul, and making the most of those relationships.

In the end, life is about growth, and that includes how we interact with the people around us. Friendships, like all relationships, evolve. The busy, chaotic days of trying to maintain every connection will give way to quieter, more meaningful bonds. As you look around, you’ll realize that your small, tight-knit circle is worth far more than a larger group of acquaintances. True friendships are a treasure, and it’s these connections that will keep you grounded, no matter how many years pass.

So embrace the change, let go of guilt, and cherish the friends who walk with you through it all. Because in the end, those are the relationships that truly make life worth living.

@marthinaleilani

[marthinaleilani]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ A MIRROR OF HEAVEN!

You are the image of God,

crafted by His perfect hand.

Why let your eyes wander downward,

questioning His work in you?

Did Jesus judge the lepers’ skin,

or did He see their faith instead?

He looked beyond the outward shell,

to the hearts that sought His touch.

So why compare what cannot be compared?

one reflection of God to another?

How can one be beautiful,

and another be less, when all are His?

When you feel the weight of comparison,

declare this truth aloud:

There is no victory in measuring worth,

for in His eyes, YOU ARE ALREADY WHOLE.