The Empty Nest

The Empty Nest

Whose tired wings here used to rest,

upon this intricate, empty nest?

Too messy to be a robin’s bed,

perhaps cardinal lay here instead.

I can see a blue jay scolding here,

any predator that came too near;

yet I think he would build higher though,

to better see who come and go.

Maybe the musical mockingbird’s

fledglings’ notes here first occurred;

then when strong enough, they took wing,

left this nest and even now sing.

No speckled eggs or powder blue,

no feathers found to give a clue;

whose feathered wings from here once flew?

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Have you ever watched a bird build its nest? Watched them hop across the ground to gather twigs, leaves, mud, even bits of trash for that purpose? My mother once noticed a wren gathering bits of hair she had thrown out after cutting my father’s hair. After that day, she placed all haircut trimmings in a plastic bag and hung it outside for them to collect. One brave little wren got carried away though and one day landed on Mom’s head and began tugging away at the hair still attached. We still laugh about that to this day. They are amazing, these winged-weavers of creation!

All birds and their nest have some things in common; and yet, at the same time each is unique in their own way. Sounds a lot like people doesn’t it…the same, but different? Consider this, if a little bird can take broken bits and pieces of discarded “nothing” and tuck and weave it together to create a home, a place to take shelter, a place to lay eggs and raise their young; how much more can the Creator of those creatures, the Lord of our own lives, take our broken pieces and weave something wonderful from them?

Next time you see a bird’s nest, think of the work a tiny creature put into creating it and take hope. Just as they wove broken pieces into something beautiful, God is still weaving His astounding work in you!

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 Wonderful Weaver of my life, thank You for taking all the bits and pieces that make up me and creating something new and beautiful for Your glory and my good. My life, I trust in Your hands. You are my Creator and I give myself to You. In Jesus name I pray. ~ Amen

Questions for a Fallen Leaf

Questions for a Fallen Leaf

Wondering…where will the wind lead     

and which winding way will you blow?

Crossing this twining asphalt road;

little orange leaf stumbling slow,

tossed like a drifting tumbleweed  

leafy head over brown stemmed-toe;

wandering where the wind may lead.      

Watching to see which way you blow…

Did you cling to your mother-tree,

last of her children to let go?

Afraid of what the world might be,

did you cling to your mother-tree?

Or with excitement did you flee,

floating with the first Fall wind’s flow? 

Did you rush from your mother-tree,

first of her children to let go?

Were you captured by screeching tines,

before your travels could take flight,

shoved against others ‘neath rake’s whine?

Were you captured by screeching tines,

not knowing what you’d face, but find

freed by kids diving with delight?

Were you captured by screeching tines,

then by little hands flung to flight?

Wondering…where will the wind lead     

and which winding way will you blow?

Crossing this twining asphalt road;

little orange leaf stumbling slow…

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"...He did fly upon the wings of the wind." Psalm 18:10

Thanks to my dear friend, Carolyn, for the story that inspired this poem. On her drive home one day - kid free, which means free to let your mind wander - she noticed a single leaf tumbling across the road. Carolyn found herself wondering where that leaf was going and where it had been. When she told me about it, I could see the story of the "wandering leaf," And so, this poem was created with those thoughts in mind. :-)

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Rider of the Wind, I thank You that no matter which way the winds blow us in life, You are already there. May we find Your peace as we wander. In Jesus holy name I pray. ~ Amen

The Morning Moon

Harvest moon taken the morning of 9-28-15 by Susan Tarrant

The Morning Moon

A lustrous moon greeted me this morning.

Hanging low in the heavens, there he shone;

catching me by surprise - without warning.

Silently staring, he seemed so alone;

looking as if longing to spin great tales

of escapades he’d seen and nightly known.

Wishing to greet him, I asked of his sails,

his infinite travels filled with wonder,

wherein he waxes and wanes, brightens and pales.

He sat silently, as if to ponder

whether to whisper of vast worlds revealed,

if divulging these would be a blunder…

Knowing the knowledge too much for man to wield,

that such splendid secrets should remain concealed,

the morning moon sagely kept his lips sealed.  

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If the moon could talk, Lord, I am sure it would sing of Your glorious works and wonders throughout the universe. Worlds upon amazing worlds...beyond our greatest imagination, were created by You. It is more than my mind can comprehend. I stand in awe of creation and the Almighty Creator. ~ Amen

Clouds

Clouds

How countlessly they gather there

like a flock of silver sheep

grazing upon a sapphire sky;

slowly ‘cross blue meadow they creep.                    

With idleness they wander where

our stumbling steps can’t follow,

and yet leisurely dreams find us

wishing for wings to borrow.

As they drift without thought or care,

we envy clouds’ lazy ways;

for as we rush around down here,

still we yearn for more tranquil days.

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As I have often said, I love the amazing ways God transforms the skyscapes into beautiful scenery for us earthbound humans to gaze upon. From rising with the waking sun to drinking in the sunset's mellowing rays, whether it be daylight white or a glorious, starry night, you can find awe-filled beauty in the heavens! That is, if you just slow down long enough to look up from your cell phone, tablet, walk away from the TV or whatever holds your attention....

To those who know me best, it is no secret that I prefer to be outside instead of in. As a teenager, future job ideas included forest ranger, outdoor photographer, just about anything that would have me outdoors instead of chained to a desk. In the grownup world of reality, I sit five days a week in an office. Yet, the outdoors still call to me from the cloudy skies that beckon.Numerous times a day, I look out the window. Each time I walk around my desk, I have to at least take a glance out and upward. Yes, sometimes it is just a cloudless blue...but what amazing shades of blue! Look up at the handiwork of God in the heavens. Take in the sky. Enjoy the beauty the Lord has graced us with today and be sure to tell Him thank you for sharing such beauty with us!
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Amazing Lord of Heaven, look down from Your dwelling place and hear our praise. There is no other gods but You. We stand in awe of Your handiwork. We thank You for the grace and blessings You surround us with daily. With the psalmist of old I pray, "When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; What is man, that thou are mindful of him, and the son of man that thou visitest him." ~ Amen and Amen.
(Psalm 8:3-4)

Our September Stroll

Our September Stroll

My delight? That he’s here with me,

as the warm days of summer wane.

A wonderful day we agree;

strolling beneath the canopy

along this peaceful wooded lane.

The now ancient, abiding trees,

the well-worn path, the cobalt sky,

the splendor one so clearly sees;

we both share reverence for these,

joying in the wood’s songs and sigh.

My pleasure would be that we stay,

wandering in this sylvan bliss

while real life’s frictions fade away,

like radiant sunset’s final rays

melting into the twilight’s mist.

Such peacefulness I’ve come to know

wrapped within calm autumn days,

before the icy winds that blow,

before the coming of the snow,

walking with him along wooded ways.

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What's better than enjoying a walk in the woods on a cool day? Walking it with someone you love!

Quiet moments alone are few and far between. With the hectic lifestyle most of us live in, I am sure you would agree the same is true for you and your sweetheart. I firmly believe that for a relationship to make it through the test of time that you must make time to be alone together. It is vastly important, in my opinion, to schedule a regular date. Put it on your "to do" list marked as Top Priority!

Why? Because in the grind and grit of day-to-day, we can lose sight of the importance of those we love most. We begin to take them for granted, like we take for granted that each time we turn on the shower, water will rain down upon us. Each time we flip on the light switch, we expect light to flood the darkness. But, if we neglect to pay that water bill, that electric bill....no more warm showers, no more home glowing with light. Neglecting those we love leaves the door ajar for trouble to walk in...

Our sweethearts are our light in a world sometimes filled with darkness. We are bathed in the warmth of their love. That is why we need to be careful not to get so busy that we push them aside. Male or female, they need to feel important, special, loved...So make that date today and don't let anything cause you to break it! Go have fun together!
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Lord who is Love, I thank You for bringing the one I love into my life. I confess that I have often times taken him for granted. Forgive me, please, and help me do a better job of showing him how loved he is. Many are the times I have felt taken for granted as well, Lord. For that, I forgive him. I know how life gets...Allow us to see each other through eyes of love and remember that even time tested relationships still need "maintenance."  

All relationships, to truly succeed, must include You, Father. As from the moment I first meet him, so I do even now. I give our relationship to You and ask Your blessing in our lives.  In Jesus name I pray. ~ Amen

To Truly Live

photo credit: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/542894930054331464/

To Truly Live

Before I am too old and gray,

I yearn to run away some day;

to fall from the face of the earth,

in hopes of finding the hidden’s worth,

to follow the footsteps of Thoreau

and learn to live before I go…

to truly live before I go...

perhaps finding myself along the way.

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Henry David Thoreau is a favorite poet of mine, though he was much more than just a poet. He wanted to determine what was important in life, so that he could get the most out of life. His attempt to discover these treasures led to him living alone in a tiny cabin in the woods for two years, two months and two days. I will point out that he was not a hermit during this time. He was close enough to visit Concord when he chose to. In his self-inflicted solitude, he wrote his most well known works, "Walden."

One of my favorite Thoreau quotes is, "Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves." Lately, I long to get lost in a quiet place in the middle of the woods somewhere, perhaps because I am feeling a bit lost myself lately and I seek to understand....myself, life, the next step along the way and so many things I don't even know I need to learn until, alone, God allows me to discover them. 

When you get a chance, you should read Thoreau's "Walden's, Where I Lived and What I Lived For." Take your time reading it and get lost with him at Walden's Pond.

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Heavenly Father, Sometimes I believe we need to get closer to nature, if only to remove all distractions and chaos from our mind. Once these hindrances are swept away by the breeze, we can more clearly see our true self and more distinctly hear Your voice. Yet, the call to join Mother Nature can not always be heeded. So, even in the quiet of my bedroom or sitting in my backyard, I ask You to join me. Release all tensions and worries and allow me to learn how to truly live the way You want me to. May I rejoice in each day and learn to live more abundantly in You. ~ Amen

Faithless

Faithless

The urgency today is real.

Foretold sirens are screaming.

That some won’t hear seems so surreal,

with such evident evil scheming

to blind man from Christ’s redeeming.  

The wicked wish to erase Him,

yet God will remain all the same.  

Christians? They long to destroy them.

May God fill their faces with shame,

until nations again seek His name.

Faithless…

for all the hatred you spew,

unbelief doesn’t make untrue.

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Lately, I have been feeling very blessed and immensely thankful to the Lord. For the second time in my life, a medical condition has been caught in the “pre-stage” condition, the “you still have time to change things” phase. God has allowed the siren to go off before the catastrophe, now it is up to me to take the necessary actions to alter my fate. I can change, or ignore the warning and remain on the path that leads to destruction. The choice is mine and no one else’s. No one can do it for me – only me.

What does all this have to do with the poem above? The world is in a “pre-stage” condition as well, pre-the return of Christ. God is sounding the sirens all around us, but how many will hear? There is still time to change, but each must choose for themselves. We can witness. We can pray. We can lead to the Lord, but only the individual can make the choice whether to follow or to flee; whether to embrace salvation through Jesus Christ, the Son of God, or snub Him.

In the old, country church I attended as a teenager, almost every service was ended with the hymn, “Softly and Tenderly.” I hear the song playing in my mind today, “Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling, calling for you and for me. See, on the portals He's waiting and watching, watching for you and for me.”

The end time alarms are sounding all around us. At the same time, the call of Christ is going out as well. God says, “It’s not too late…yet.” He longs for each to come to Him so they may know His love and receive salvation. God has provided warnings of the world’s pre-condition. Who will hear and make the needed changes in their lives? Have you answered the call of Christ? If not, won’t you answer it today… or walk away?

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My Savior and Lord, I thank You for rescuing me - heart, soul, body and spirit. You are my Creator. I am Your vessel. I praise You for my healing and for the work You have yet for me to do. I pray that You open the eyes of those too sick in sin to see, before they have no more time to accept Jesus Christ as their Savior and Lord. May Your will be done today and always. ~ Amen

While the World Awakes Book!!!

Hello everyone! I just wanted to take a moment and let you know that, with God's help (and the help of a few others), I now have a book on Amazon. If you have enjoyed my blog posts, you will find many of my favorites included in the book, "While the World Awakes." Please follow the link below to go to Amazon and to rate my writing, if you would be so kind to do so. I look forward to hearing from you!

http://www.amazon.com/While-World-Awakes-Susan-Tarrant/dp/1514760959/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1438381892&sr=8-1&keywords=while+the+world+awakes

A Penned Portrait

A Penned Portrait

Memories of Dad

Ritz crackers or Little Debbie’s

with Mt. Dew to top them off.

Simple things that say you, Daddy,

like drinking milk straight from the jug.

Recollections wrap me like a hug.

Curled up in your reclining chair,

leaning into the warmth of you.

Elmer Fudd’s chasing a gray hare.

Yosemite Sam’s guns are flashing.

Loved listening to you laughing.

Music dances in my memories,

each song a love note in its way.

Of all the songs you sang to me,

“Wake Up Little Susie” never fades

- so many records we once played.

Forehead furrowed with eyebrows raised

peering over glasses “What’d you say?”

We kids were loved and we were praised,

but in some things you didn’t play.

Rules were rules we were to obey.

The quiet moments that we shared

discussing the depths of God’s word,

deep discussions where you declared

Bible lessons learned in your youth;

teaching my heart to trust God’s truth.

Our rolling stone, you taught me well.

Change is adventure, not to be feared.

Some days fall flat, others excel.

Dare - for dreams are worth the vying.

True failure comes in never trying.

As I reminisce and rewind,

your love for Mom and family

is the utmost memory in my mind.

For the past, present and yet to be,

thank you, Dad, for all you are to me.

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I could write a poem card worthy, 

too much like someone else's words.

I could write serious or silly. 

I prefer something never heard

...a penned portrait ideally. 

I wanted something that reflected my Dad and how much I am my Daddy's girl. I look like a younger reflection of my mother, but oh how much I am like my Dad in personality. He found one of my poems years ago and in his beautiful handwriting (much prettier than mine) he wrote, "Susie, I didn't know you could do this." 

I still have that note somewhere.  I hope when I deliver this poem to him later today, that it touches his heart. I can't imagine my life without him. I am the person I am today, because of lessons learned from Dad. 

Happy Father's Day to my Dad who is a jack of all trades, flawed in some ways, perfect in others!  

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Heavenly Father, 

Thank you for my earthly father. The first man I ever loved! May You who sees the true heart of all men, bless him today and always. ~ Amen

                               

                                                                                             

The Seed Sower

Photo credit: http://www.thesowerandtheseed.net

The Seed Sower

Stepping out of my comfort zone,

Stepping up in my faith and trust,

to follow the call from God’s throne

to do the thing I know I must.

Some are sent to sow the seed,

others meant to reap the return.     

I sense within myself the need

to sow seeds in the words I turn.

I question if the sewn will grow,

if they will sprout and reach the sky.

Sometimes it’s not for me to know.

What matters is, God knows I try.

As I surrender to God’s will,

may His gift given be not in vain

Here I am, Lord, use me still.

My gift, apply for heaven’s gain.

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Years ago, I prayed for God to show me what my talent was to use for His glory. I knew some who sang with angel voices, play instruments, leave on mission trips to foreign countries to carry God’s word…What could I do? I couldn’t see it. A friend told my gift was my caring heart, but that wasn’t enough for me. It just didn’t feel like the right answer.

The Lord didn’t answer me immediately, but I kept persistently praying for Him to open my heart and reveal the answer to me. When He did reveal that it was my writing, I was taken aback. I had been writing off and on for years, even as a child, but I rarely shared my poems with others. Writing was like breathing to me; just something I do and feel lost without. So how could that be my gift? Again I prayed and asked God just to be sure. IF this is the gift He had given and wanted me to use, I said He would have to show me how. Before the Lord was finished with me that year, there was no doubt in my mind writing was indeed my gift. I started taking a Christian Writers’ Course. I flew to my first writers’ conference and I began sending my work off to others in hopes of sharing God’s love and praying to touch at least one life per poem/devotional. 

All that being said the world has gotten in the way of my gift by stealing my time. Too fatigued to think, how could I possibly write anything worth reading? Too frustrated and disgruntled with my own life, inspiration was often hidden due to my unhappiness. I knew I was (am) meant for more than what I had become. In hindsight how could I be happy when I was not using the gift God intended for me to use? So, this past week I have taken a leap of faith. Soon I will have more free time. I pray that God will once again whisper words in my ears to place in poems, to bless the lives of others and point them to the Father. As my prayer has always been before each poem, “Heavenly Father, what would You have me write today?”

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My God, Author of my life,

With fear and trembling, and hope and joy, I open my arms wide and pray. Show me the way. Use me, Lord. Open the door and reveal the path that leads to Your will in my life. From before birth and even after my death someday, I am Yours, Lord. Use me as You will. ~ Amen

Rainy Nights

 Rainy Nights

In the stillness of the evening

from the refuge of our room,

the approaching storm grumbles

as lightning flashes through the gloom.

The ratta-tat-tat of raindrops

drumming softly overhead

sounds in contrast to the thunder

rumbling of the downpour still ahead.

My head rests upon your shoulder.

Your heartbeat whispers in my ear,

cocooned within the covers,

content merely to have you near.

Eyelids close in blissful slumber,

coaxed by the torrent being shed,

the ratta-tat-tat of raindrops

drumming heavily overhead.

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I don’t know about you, but I sure rest well when it rains. Something about a rainy night  is so relaxing it sings me right to sleep. I wonder if God planned it that way; the timpani drum roll of thunder, the wind rushing within the leaves and the tune of raindrops on the roof….Maybe in all His infinite wisdom God planned rain showers with that additional purpose in mind. 

God knows we need rest. Even the great I Am rested on the seventh day. I have always said there is no such thing as coincidence, especially not in God’s creations. We must simply be willing to open our eyes, our hearts and sometimes even our ears to realize the wonders that surround us. So tonight, with God as the Music Director of rain's lullaby playing on my roof, I look forward to a good night's sleep. I hope you have one too! 

(I know I usually have a picture to go with my posts, but as much as I love photography, my night photo skills are lacking. Maybe I can add one fitting the poem at a later date.) 

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Rain Maker, Storm Creator, I thank You for cleansing the world, filling the lakes and streams and watering Earth’s gardens. And as if those tasks were not enough, in Your love and creativity, You wrapped songs within the storms for us to discover on our own. I appreciate each melody that rises and falls within the showers. You are amazing, Lord. None can compare to You. ~ Amen 

Raindrops and Nursery Rhymes

photo from http://mickey-spectrum.deviantart.com/art/Rain-Rain-Go-Away-295110167

Raindrops and Nursery Rhymes

Black mud seizes firmly to my feet, clinging

like a swimmer sinking to a line clasping,

until it succeeds in suctioning off my shoe

and I’m left wobbling on one leg, not two.

Like the little teapot, short and stout,

I tip me over and…pull my shoe out.

As yet again raindrops splatter the ground. 

I close my eyes and simply sigh with the sound.

Thunder grumbles its displeasure over my head,

as he too complains about the rain I dread.

And though I sing, “rain, rain go away…”

the rascal refuses and chooses to stay.

I dash inside, sliding through the screen door,

squishing and squeaking, tracking mud ‘cross the floor.

I shiver with disgust, now I’m soaked to the skin.

It’s hard to believe that it’s storming again.

I call out, “It’s raining. It’s pouring!!!”

Only to find that old man once again snoring.

In weather like this, I might as well join him.

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Rain, rain go away...I imagine I am not the only one sick of mud and yard that are now lakes. 

A Conversation Worth Continuing

A Conversation Worth Continuing

I am going to take a minute to fuss.

I can’t stand to hear someone cuss.

When with every other breath you swear,

in my opinion, you pollute our air.

Maybe you think you seem smarter.

Well, you need to think a little harder.

With every f-bomb that you drop,

your IQ points appear to plop.

With thousands of intelligent words

you simply repeat the slang you've heard?

You don’t care who you offend,

yet I’m expected to pretend

the verbal filth you spread is alright

even if there’s a child in sight?

With movies filled with cursing rants

(which I don’t enjoy, I simply can’t)

it’s not your fault the world’s amiss.

Still don’t you know you’re better than this?

Your character is reflected in the words you speak,

Choose! Words of wisdom or words that reek?

You must speak something worth hearing

to have a conversation worth continuing.

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I recently heard a man who was critiquing a movie say that he thought the actress would have been sexier if she dropped an f-bomb every now and then. Really? Sexier? Has this world gone insane or simply him? Since when is it considered SEXY to cuss?

The conversations surrounding us are saturated with cursing. We can’t escape it. Whether we are in the work place, shopping in a store, attending a show or flipping through the songs on the radio; obscenities scorch our ears. Even some commercials on daytime TV are insinuating the words in a failed attempt to appear clever. Is it any wonder that even out of the mouths of babes come the occasional (or not so seldom) cuss word? And if the parents cuss, guess what? We teach by example, so the children are pretty much guaranteed to cuss as well. Is that what they really want to teach their kids? I guess if it doesn’t bother them to voice vulgarity around children, then it probably doesn’t matter to them if the little ones repeat their crude behavior.

Don’t get me wrong. The words out of my own mouth are far from perfect - from negativity and complaining, gossiping at times, to the occasional dirty word. Yes, I am ashamed to say that even I at times let out a word that I should have held back. I’m not proud of it. From experience I have learned, the more we are around people who cuss the more the likely that profanity will pop into our own minds and pop out of our mouths before we can catch it; all the more reason to be careful who we hang around with. As a preacher once told our congregation: “If you hold a clean paper plate in one hand and a paper plate covered in mud in the other, when you rub the two together, the clean is not going to rub off on the dirty. But, the mud will smear all over the clean every time.”

Because I know we all fall short, someone who occasionally lets one slip does not offend me so much (though there are certain words among swear words that I cannot stand at all). I am also aware that some honestly see no problem with it because they have been around that vocabulary all of their lives. Still, this doesn’t excuse them from not showing self-control around others.

My main complaint is with those who refuse to show any restraint and who don’t care who is around them while they let the obscenities fly. The person whose mouth is so filled with filth that they can’t speak two sentences without swearing truly needs to learn some control and courtesy. Truly, I want to say, “You kiss your babies with that mouth?” or “Do you talk that way when your grandmother visits?” If the answer is no, then don’t talk that way in public!

Now, I have been chastised and told that words are just sounds that come out of our mouth that man gave meaning to and that I shouldn’t let them bother me so much. Well, it is the truth that man did give these sounds meaning, but some of the definitions of those “sounds” are rude, hateful, obscene and downright vulgar. I for one would rather not hear them and I have that right! I am aware that we live in the United States of America where (for the moment) we have freedom of speech. Yet to some of us living in this land of freedoms, we prefer a land free from having to hear lewd, crude and X-rated language. I know it will never happen this side of heaven, but that’s my rant and now I’m done.

“But shun profane & vain babblings; for they will increase unto more ungodliness.” 2 Timothy 2:16

My Mother's Love

My Mother's Love

My first memories are wrapped in you.

Your softly read stories soothed me to sleep.

Many hurts have been healed wrapped in your hugs.

Often and always, I’ve forever felt loved.      

They say no one is perfect and that may be so,

However, your love, Mom, must be close.

Endless and forgiving just like our Lord’s,

 I Realize that your love has taught me the most.  

 ‘So many prayers you’ve prayed for me.

Life lessons you’ve patiently guided me through,

 (Over and over again a time or two.)

Vast are the values you’ve passed along.

Every moment’s a blessing when shared with you, Mom.

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Last year, I almost lost her. This past year, we've become much more aware of how each moment together is a treasure to thankful for and should never be taken for granted. I know, that’s an obvious fact; but it is one that all lose sight of in the daily rush of things.

With each illness, with each aged year that passes, with every death of a loved one; God sends us a reminder that those we hold dear won’t be with us forever. Cherish them while we can, spend time with them, listen to their stories (even if you've heard them before); give them the greatest part of you – your time and heartfelt attention.

By the grace and love of God, I still have my mom. He knew I still had lessons to learn from her. Of course, He is perfectly right. She (and my Dad) taught me what true love is. Now she is teaching me true strength of character and how to graciously face the advanced years. There will always be a new lesson to be learned - another lesson she has taught me, by example.

My mother’s love quenches like rain after a drought. It is soaked into the soul, danced in with childlike joy and savored with every drop of the tongue. In my lifetime, may I succeed in being at least half the woman she is in my eyes.

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Thank you, Lord, for letting me have Mom on earth a little while longer. May I never take the extra time together for granted and may I be as much of a blessing to her as she is to me. ~ Amen

The Sunny Day

The Sunny Day

The day is warm and light and lively.

Clouds drift, and the sun shines brightly.

The rose still climbs to the highest trellis;

With every breeze, fragrance flows boundless,

And the day is light and lively.

My life is warm and light and lively.

Clouds drift, and the sun shines brightly.              

My dreams still climb to the highest crest.

Time’s lessons teach I’m boundlessly blessed.  

And my life is light and lively.

Dance on glad heart and continue praising.

The blessings God sends remain amazing.

Our fate is fixed to our attitude.

Greet each day then with gratitude.

Most days will be light and lively. 

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Looking for a creative idea to strike for a new poem, I decided to write about the rain - since we've had so much of it lately. But the storming session wasn't going so well. Having been told once (or maybe I read it somewhere) that to write good poetry, you had to read good poetry; I searched out some other rain rhymes. It didn't take long to run across "The Rainy Day" bu Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, one of my all-time favorite poets. What an awesome of written art! I love the poem and I get all the nuances; but at the time it made me feel depressed. "My life is cold and dark and dreary..." I am having enough of a battle trying to pull myself out of fatigue and downheartedness without being pulled further down due to being able to relate to his every word. I didn't want to write something gloomy, even if the last verse gives hope. I wanted to write something upbeat and happy! That's when the inspiration finally hit. I would write a contrasting spin-off of Longfellow's poem! I would claim joy in life! He wrote the masterpiece, "The Rainy Day." I give you my humble, juxtaposed poem, "The Sunny Day." I hope you enjoy it!
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Thank you, Lord, for the sunny days and the rain. Thank You for the blessings You pour down upon us and the love You send shining down to us. May we learn to rejoice in each moment. ~ Amen 

Freed ~ A Poem for Barbara

Freed

A poem for Barbara

Hidden in a dim lit corner,

away from the world, I write.

Searching for the words to mourn her,

my lovely friend who died last night.

She would say it was just her time,

knowing I can’t argue this.

God has His reasons, I ask the rhyme

to shed my grief…I speak her bliss.

Imagine the triumph heaven sings

to one who escaped cancer’s harms.

We’re here, still under His wings.

Our sister's embraced in His arms!

Our loss on earth has been her gain;

wrapped in Christ’s love and light.

No more chemo. No more pain.

Home with her Savior – her Delight!

Writing to honor my fallen friend,

I hear my Lord reprimand…

“Hear my words and take heed.

She has not fallen, she’s been freed!”

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Barbara was a wonderful friend and yet so MUCH more. Though miles separated us, our friendship never had problems bridging the distance. We meet through my neighbor/her aunt, Frances Ellis, and became fast friends. I looked forward to her visits as much as Frances did. With her outgoing personality and bubbly smile, who couldn’t love Barbara?

Though I wasn’t always so certain, Barbara believed God had given me a talent in my writing and agreed with me that it should be used for His glory. She was my cheerleader, my encourager! When doubts or low self-esteem weighed me down, she always had the right words to say to lift me up. This dear lady even helped me to attend my first (and only so far) writers’ conference many years ago – an event that still brings goose bumps. 

To my surprise and delight, she would often ask to share certain poems with a friend she thought needed to read it, or sometimes even made copies to pass on to her Emmaus group. I always felt honored and would tell her, “Please do. As long as what I write touches one person’s life and points them to God, I’m happy!” Perhaps, through her efforts, one of my poems or devotionals actually did sow seed in someone’s heart to grow in God’s garden someday – all because Barbara passed it on. I pray so. She always believed in me (or God’s working through me), more than I can, even now, see or comprehend. 

A woman of great faith, this woman was a Prayer Warrior! Whenever I asked for prayer in a matter, there was never a doubt that she lifted it to the Lord daily. It was as if I could feel her prayers and God’s arms wrapped around me like a warm blanket on a cold night. Barbara would share scripture with me to strengthen my soul and devotionals to lift my spirits. She was more than a close friend, she was an example of the God-fearing, Christ-trusting woman I strive to be.

Now she is gone and our world is shaken. Knowing, I can no longer reach out to her and hear her voice or see her bright smile. No more Barbara hugs. No more devotionals or her words of wisdom coming across my email with uncanny (God-guided) perfect timing. No more, “Hey, I’m driving to New Boston! How about I stop in Paris and we go eat at La Familia?” How she loved Mexican food! J

So, in my grief, I do what I always do….I write!

I had to include “Under His Wings,” because that has been how Barbara has ended her last several emails to me. But, my sorrow was too much for words and I was at a loss as what to write. I always pray for God to help me with my poems. So, all day, I prayed. “Please help me find the words to write a poem for Barbara. I think she would like that, God.” Still, I struggled and my prayer requests continued, “God, help me find the words to honor my fallen friend.” Immediately, I was corrected. “She’s not fallen. She’s freed!” And so, I was given a part of Barbara’s poem…

Thank you, Lord. Shalom, Barbara. I will see you soon, sweet friend.

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Father in Heaven, Thank you!! Thank you for blessing our lives by allowing us to know this beautiful, faithful woman, Barbara Armstrong. She allowed herself to be Your servant, Lord. She was willing to say to You, “Use me!” and You did. So many people this woman loved; so many loved her in return. She was a jewel more precious than rubies, Lord. If ever someone today fit the role of the Proverbs 31 woman, I imagine Barbara was it. I know the angels sang with joy to welcome her home. Please Father, give her a hug from me, until I can get there to hug her myself. With joy at her homecoming, I pray in Christ’s name. ~ Amen 

Someday is Never Seen

Someday is Never Seen

Someday is an illusion,

a fear-of- failure delusion.

We plant our dreams in this myth

only to be cut down by Someday’s scythe;

for Someday is never seen.

One Day our dreams will come true

is an unclaimed fantasy too.

For our dreams to be derived,

finally One Day must have arrived

yet One Day is never known.

Our derailed dreams may follow

fast on the heels of Tomorrow.

Like Time from our grasp they’ll flee,      

yet that’s not the how it has to be.

Today! Strive for your dreams Today,

for Someday is never seen.

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It is a true blessing to have someone in your life that not only believes in your dreams, but actually wants to share in them and help you achieve them. . .

In this world many things can steal our dreams from us:

Simple procrastination because that is just the way some people are,

Time constraints,

Lack of confidence or money,

Negative Nellie’s with their jealous, dream crushing attitudes, or maybe even someone we want to share a certain dream with that simply doesn't share that same desire...the list could go on, but I won’t.

I thank God above for the encouragers of dreams! Lord knows, for every one encourager we have, there tends to be ten ready to tear our dreams away. Don’t let them! I recommend that each and EVERY day you do AT LEAST one thing that pushes your dream forward, just one thing. For me, it is sometimes only one line or a quick reread and edit of something I wrote before. Whatever your dream, set small, daily goals and get after them. You can do it! One plus one plus one more…they add up to an achieved dream. Never give up!

I also strongly suggest that you surround yourself with the positive - positive people, positive mantras and positive memories even. Not easy to accomplish, I know. I have a memory box that I keep uplifting items in. It might be a birthday card or a thank you note with a touching comment scrolled inside, perhaps it is a printout of someone’s comment on my blog about a poem. Whatever it is, you can be sure it is something that brings a smile and lifts my faltering spirit. When discouraged or hurt by someone’s hateful words or actions, I go to that folder to refocus on the affirmative. Sometimes, just to know that one person believes in you, is enough.

I have been blessed to have many encouragers in my life. I owe each of them more than thanks, because they steel me when my own faith wavers. The fact that I haven’t accomplished “more” with the talent God has given me sometimes makes me feel like I have let them (and God) down. Yet, they still believe in me and bring me joy and support during those times when I am prone to beating myself down.

My son is just one of the people on my “lifts me up” list. His belief in my writing ability lifts my soul as well as spirit. I still have the wind chimes he gave me many years ago. The note describing their musical melodies stated they were meant to bring inspiration to the listener – and he made sure I read it. He wanted me to be inspired. When an English teacher asked what experience the students had with poetry, his answer was, “My mom’s a poet.” My heart swelled near bursting when he told me of the incident, not with pride in myself, but with joy that he thought of me in those terms. Now, as he pursues his own dreams of being a personal trainer, I pray I can encourage & help him as he has always supported me. 

Tell me, what hidden dream do you have that can I back you in? Who is on your “lifts me up” list? I would love to be added to it! Whatever your aspiration, I believe in you and I promise God does too.

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Giver of Dreams and One Who Helps Them Come True, I thank You for all the supporters of dreams that have been placed in my life. Please help me to uplift and support others as they follow their own paths and pursue their own dreams. May I never discourage others, but offer words of hope and kindness. ~ Amen