Little One

Little one still being made in the womb

By the one who defeated death and the tomb.

What joy it will be to see your small face

Shaped by the hand the still pours out grace.

The unknown for us is….

                The color of your eyes, the shape of your toes

                The dimples in your chin, the crook of your nose

Is already known by Him who made all.

He sees you now in the womb and when you are quite tall.

We relish the time when you are a baby,

Decked out in your outfits, a little dirty maybe,

Most importantly, healthy, vigorous, and bright,

A joyful reflection of His Holy Light.

 

2-22-2014

Revised 3-14-16

CHRISTMAS IS FOR OLDER FOLKS TOO!

SCRIPTURE READING: LUKE 2 V. 25-38

          SIMEON AND ANNA WEREN’T IN BETHELEHEM WHEN CHRIST WAS BORN. THEY DIDN’T SEE THE ANGELS FILL THE SKIES OR WATCH THE SHEPARDS RUN TO SEE THE BABY. THE MANAGER WASN’T A PART OF THEIR FAITH WALK. THEY WERE JUST FIXTURES IN THE TEMPLE, WAITING FOR THE FULFILLMENT OF GOD’S PROMISE TO EACH OF THEM; TO SEE THE MESSIAH. LUKE CALLED SIMEON RIGHTEOUS AND DEVOUT. ANNA WAS DESCRIBED AS “WORSHIPING NIGHT AND DAY, FASTING AND PRAYING”. THESE TWO WERE SAINTS, PEOPLE THAT NEVER FORGOT THEIR FIRST LOVE, WHO CONVICTED OTHERS BY THEIR LIFESTYLE AND BEHAVIOR. IT WASN’T A PRIEST OR ELDER THAT BORE WITNESS TO THE BABY MESSIAH, IT WAS FAITHFUL WORSHIPPERS THAT FELT THE BLESSING OF THE HOLY SPIRIT’S MOVING IN THEIR SOULS. WHAT A JOY IT MUST HAVE BEEN TO CRADLE THE BABY JESUS IN HIS ARMS FOR SIMEON! NOT ONLY WAS THIS THE FULFILLMENT OF THE SCRIPTURES, BUT IT WAS THE COMPLETION OF THE PROMISE MADE TO SIMEON BY GOD. AS WE LIVE RIGHTEOUSLY AND DEVOUTED TO CHRIST, WE THAT ARE OLDER, HAVE SEEN GOD’S PLAN WORKED OUT IN OUR LIVES AND THE LIVES OF OUR LOVED ONES. NO, IT DIDN’T ALWAYS WORK OUT THE WAY, WE WANTED IT TO, BUT HIS PLANS HELD TWISTS AND SURPRISES THAT WE COULD NEVER HAVE IMAGINED. ANNA DEMONSTRATES HOW WE SHOULD REACT SINCE WE ALL HAVE SEEN AND KNOW THE SAVIOR, BY FIRST GIVING THANKS. AFTER THANKING GOD FOR HIS SAVING GRACE, SHE SPOKE TO ALL WHO WERE LOOKING FORWARD TO THE REDEMPTION OF JERUSALEM. I SUSPECT THAT MEANT SHE SPOKE TO EVERYONE ABOUT HER ENCOUNTER WITH CHRIST. GOD DOESN’T NEED US TO DETERMINE IF PEOPLE ARE REDEEMABLE, HE JUST WANTS TO USE US TO TELL THE STORY, HIS STORY, THE GOOD NEWS OF THE GOSPEL

          YES, CHRISTMAS IS FOR CHILDREN. SANTA, TOYS, BIG MEALS AND GATHERINGS ARE ALL A PART OF THIS SEASON. HOWEVER, SO IS DEVOTION TO THE CHRIST CHILD AND THE RISEN SAVIOR. OUR RIGHTEOUSNESS NEEDS TO BE ON DISPLAY, NOT FOR OUR SAKE BUT FOR HIS. OUR CHILDREN, GRANDCHILDREN, LOVED ONES, NEIGHBORS AND FRIENDS MUST SEE CHRISTMAS THROUGH THE LENS OF OUR LIVES. LIVES THAT ARE NOT PERFECT BUT FORGIVEN. LIVES FILLED WITH LOVE, PEACE AND FORGIVENESS. WE, THAT HAVE BEEN GRANTED LONGER LIVES, HAVE BEEN GIVEN SO MUCH GRACE AND FAVOR OVER THE YEARS. AS WE CONTINUE IN THIS SEASON OF HOPE AND EXPECTANCY MAY WE OFFER TRUE AND ETERNAL HOPE. AND MAY OUR LIVES POINT TOWARD HIS RETURN AND THE FULLFILLMENT OF HIS PROMISE TO EACH OF US.

The Carpenter Knew the Nails

Man was born with breath and dust

Pure, unbound and without lust.

God knew sin would bring us low

And yet He let us reap and sow

His plan included His own Son.

The perfect, pure and blameless One

To become Man’s path to righteousness

Through sacrifice, death and spotlessness.

He doomed the grave and is now the door

To life, heaven and so much more.

Peace and comfort, purpose and light

Rest for the weary, strength for night.

But as I take the bread and cup

The thought that swallows my soul up,

As he grew up Joseph’s boy,

 He knew the nails, his own first toy.

He learned to drive them deep and sure

To bind the wood firm and secure

Knowing well the day would come

Blood would stain His own thumbs.

Did the nails on Joseph’s bench

Stab His soul, with sin’s death stench?

Timeless, eternal now bound by life’s clock

Christ dreaded the cross, yet he had to unlock

The way to His father, heaven and glory

But obedience is difficult, death is gory.

As He gathered the nails in Joseph’s small shop

To bind wood together, His hammer would drop

Reminding Him one day their hammer would flail

And pierce His own hands with sin covered nails.

 

Written 2018

Frozen, White, Quiet and Still

I hide from you like snow on the north side of a hill

Frozen, white, quiet and still.

Fearing that in your presence you will cause me to melt

Or say how I felt

How I felt about what?

Don’t say that I did….

I did feel

Not real. Not really real

But I know that I really should be on your side

Out in the open unable to hide

But will I be able to see the dark side of your sun

Or will I be the only one

To shift and change

It is hard for me to move

And the sun to show its backside

Now that’s really unreal

Shifting snow and reversing sun

How can I express my garbled mind at this junction?

Between inability and function

You don’t cause my inability to relate to this hell

Yet you cause me to function as well

You constantly seem to confuse me

Is there some intent to abuse me?

The sun doesn’t heat me too fast

I want this melting feeling to last

I hide a little you hide a little and what do we see

A little of you and me

I tell a great deal you tell a great deal and what can this be

No big deal certainly

For our souls long for the time when our knees knock, our tongues quiver and our hands shake

“To ask if there is some mistake”

To stop by woods and relate

To the deep

 

2-8-1980

Revised 3-14-16

Portraits

Wide eyed portraits of people known well

Noses and ears, smiles that are veiled.

Cousins and grandkids, nieces, and kin

Funny old dogs, pictures of friends.

Hung on the fridge, stacked in a pile,

A collage on the wall, whatever the style.

They generate memories of good times and fun

Beach trips and travel warmed by the sun.

Others remind us of those that are dear

Frozen forever, smiling, with cheer.

Four by six snippets of faces with joy

Mimi’s wee girls, Papa’s big boy

Families, together, caught by the lens

Happily freezing time with wistful grins.

Portraits and pictures are memories we keep

Long after babies, diapers and no sleep.

 

June 2003