A little girl as brown as dirt
sat beside a mango tree.
Her thoughts afar,
her little toes digging in the ground.
What will it be like to die alone...
to think of pain no more
to sleep the sweet sleep of death?
Such thoughts so deep and strong
shook her little scrawny frame into a sob.
You see she did not know
the careless laugh, precocious whims and
silliness of any other child just eight.
No warmth, except the stinky heat
that mixed her tears with her sweat.
The angry voices, outside her door,
the smell of alcohol,
so acid and penetrating to the pores.
The knock (sometimes), the door ajar
her room so dark,
the slow descend into the pit of hell...
Death so close and yet so far never came...
The child grew,
with hate rooted in her bitter heart,
anger, not trusting any man.
Not a soul knew such pain hidden under her dark eyes.
Thru Gods hands
(a God she did not know),
she left the land of the mango tree,
of dirt and sweat
and she almost thought she left
the hate and pain behind.
She met a man, gentle, kind, quiet...
No love she had to give.
Emotions she once said are for the weak,
she knew first hand.
Had she not had a mother who gave everything,
including her daughter for the love of a man?
She married the gentle man.
He was kind to her and yet inside her secret hid,
her mouth told lies,
but he could see once in while
the little bitter heart of the long ago child.
This man, he knew God,
he tenderly spoke of Him,
never pushing, saying few words,
knowing that pushing hard
would only draw her away
perhaps scared perhaps mad.
Jesus knew this was His child,
whom He embraced long ago under the mango tree
and gave the strength to go back in the house
and endure the pain.
He never left her,
not even when hell was so close to the child.
The pain and anger grew
bigger than her bitter heart.
It came out shaming her before a crowd.
The secret is out!
She could live with this no more,
death being nearer than before.
God chose this time to tenderly touch her
and call her His child.
She saw Jesus and His pain.
He embraced her, and told her of His love.
And she ran from death,
into the arms of her Father.
The light was on...
the darkness hid in her heart no more.
The pain was gone, (well not all of it sometimes)
and she was free.
Uprooted were the bitter roots,
the pain, mistrust, the hate,
replaced with Him.
New light! What sights!
What she saw for the first time
was the tender look of the kind gentle man.
He not ashamed,
nor repulsed by her abuse.
Tenderly took her in his arms...
and she became a child again.
And she could laugh,
that careless laugh she never knew,
precocious whims,
and silliness were new to her...
So he indulged her tenderly,
touched her softly,
and whispered of his love.
Oh and how she grew to love him.
The Lord restored what the locus ate...
Thru the man that He had chosen for her
long before the time
she sat under the mango tree.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Monday, February 26, 2007
Sons
"Death is not extinguishing the light, it is simply turning off the lamp because the dawn has arrived." The Sisters of Our Lady of Perpetual Help
Well, Ron may be enjoying Gods light but I'm still in the dark when it comes to certain things, especially sons. I only have one and one already almost raised, but I'm still having to give advise and listen. I realize that I'm not as good of a father as Ron, after all I'm only his mother! I tend to be very impatient with him. This is when I need Ron, to talk to Jonathan and fix it! Not that Jonathan needs fixing, just another male to encourage him. I was told today that dad was a better listener. Ouch! Just when I was starting to get a handle on things God reminded me that the road ahead is going to be a long one and just because my son is soon to be 21 doesn't mean he doesn't need a dad anymore. I was less concerned with him out of all the kids. The girls have been more emotional and able to talk about how they're feeling. Jonathan has been quiet and pensive and busy with school, ministry and his girlfriend. But deep inside he too was suffering the loss. When he finally came up and talked to me, all came undone and we had some very real words. I must be patient with him and with myself. We are both learning to live without dad.
My two older kids are very different and can't be compared. They have different strengths and weakness yet I tend to fail to see Jonathan strengths. He is older and I expect more, why? I don't know. Perhaps because at his age I was already on my own and not making quite the right decisions. I want what is best for both and today I realized that it has to be Gods best not mine. I will pray for him more diligently, listen more carefully and trust him completely into His hands. After all He tell me He is the Father to the orphans.
Well, Ron may be enjoying Gods light but I'm still in the dark when it comes to certain things, especially sons. I only have one and one already almost raised, but I'm still having to give advise and listen. I realize that I'm not as good of a father as Ron, after all I'm only his mother! I tend to be very impatient with him. This is when I need Ron, to talk to Jonathan and fix it! Not that Jonathan needs fixing, just another male to encourage him. I was told today that dad was a better listener. Ouch! Just when I was starting to get a handle on things God reminded me that the road ahead is going to be a long one and just because my son is soon to be 21 doesn't mean he doesn't need a dad anymore. I was less concerned with him out of all the kids. The girls have been more emotional and able to talk about how they're feeling. Jonathan has been quiet and pensive and busy with school, ministry and his girlfriend. But deep inside he too was suffering the loss. When he finally came up and talked to me, all came undone and we had some very real words. I must be patient with him and with myself. We are both learning to live without dad.
My two older kids are very different and can't be compared. They have different strengths and weakness yet I tend to fail to see Jonathan strengths. He is older and I expect more, why? I don't know. Perhaps because at his age I was already on my own and not making quite the right decisions. I want what is best for both and today I realized that it has to be Gods best not mine. I will pray for him more diligently, listen more carefully and trust him completely into His hands. After all He tell me He is the Father to the orphans.
On Loneliness
Loneliness...everyone tells me to expect it and be prepare for it, as if I haven't been alone the last few weeks. Loneliness...surround yourself with friends, make sure you're not alone, brace yourself for the intense feelings of loneliness, well meaning friends have told me. I have come to realize that we all experience loneliness even when we are in the company of others. Married couples go thru lonely seasons as well as single people. I'm very familiar with loneliness, not just recently but throughout my life. Loneliness is part of moving forward in this long and glorious road we call life. I don't need to fix it. We are commanded to go thru it..."Be still and know that I am God." That is what the Word tells me. Jesus walked alone in the desert for forty days, He didn't take anybody to keep Him company. The angles came to minister to Him and He lacked nothing. I will walk thru my desert just the same, alone, knowing that too is part of my life and experience the comfort only angles and God can bring.
Music
"The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing." Music always manages to move me deeply as well as words. To know that the All mighty rejoices over us with singing is incomprehensible, overwhelmingly awesome. I sit early in the morning quietly listening to the darkness give way to light and He sings! Oh if only my hearing was better!
I continue to make my way thru this, quietly walking in step to His music. The finances are coming together and I'm able to understand a bit better than before, I'm not so ignorant after all! I have chosen to live beyond this season. I came to realize that I had a choice on how I was to live the rest of my life without him. I choose to cherish life!
I continue to make my way thru this, quietly walking in step to His music. The finances are coming together and I'm able to understand a bit better than before, I'm not so ignorant after all! I have chosen to live beyond this season. I came to realize that I had a choice on how I was to live the rest of my life without him. I choose to cherish life!
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Colors
Colors. They give life depth and feeling. I'm slowly seeing in color again, not all the time, but once in a while when I'm not looking. My eyes catch a bit of green and blue and I try to look but then it's gone. I know I'll be color blind for a season but seeing color hurts my eyes in a satisfying way like pulling a splinter out. Life is slowly coming into focus and I can see a little bit farther ahead than before. I'm becoming bolder and less afraid, confident that nothing, truly nothing is impossible with Christ. I want to be a widow for a season only and then I will be me, whole, complete, vibrant and full of color. Ron filled in the lines with rich color and I will display the life he left behind with courage knowing that the Master artist moved his hands. I am a canvas, richly painted in the gallery of life and because of the Master Artist I'm worth far more than precious treasure. Oh what joy it'll be to have full sight!
Thursday, February 22, 2007
My First Marathon
My first marathon was the beginning of pushing my body beyond what I ever thought possible and getting a glimpse of our eternal homecoming. The last few miles were the beginning of the end, when my knees felt like they could no longer carry me, my body had spent all the energy necessary to see me thru and yet deep in my soul I searched and found the reserves to finish. Finished battered, tired, spent, but gloriously uplifted, full of His hope, overflowing with the anticipation of a heavenly reunion.
When my body could not, would not listen to my mind, and slowed down and threaten to stop, I fixed my eyes on the finish line, so near yet so far....the vision came easily, slowly, clearly of my homecoming...my Lord and my Saviour waiting, beckoning with open arms...my child, my Naomi, her voice mixing in with the voice of the saints calling my name, cheering me on, encouraging, loving me thru to the end. My knees painfully gave out all they had and moved me forward. A moment I wished would never end yet couldn't wait for it to be over. In that instant I wasn't running for my body but for my soul.
The moment of crossing the finish line was insignificant to those around me. After all only 18 people were behind me, I was one of the last, yet to me it was of great significance. Time mattered little but in the realm of eternity those hours matted much. A glimpse of light entered my darkness, just a little flickering ray of glorious light, enough to hold on to tightly, enough to leave me wanting more. It was at that moment that I knew I would survive and endure and finish in pain, but with hope, and joy and yes even peace.
True to God's character, His mercies never ceasing, I won third place in my age group. A humorous accomplishment, since I was so slow, but one that lifted me and affirmed to me that from that season on I was a runner.
Now I'm a runner, a marathoner no less. I run not from but to...
to clear my mind;
to tire my body;
to worship Him in the silence of my breathing;
to be lost in the movement of my legs;
to fill my lungs to their full capacity with fresh cool air;
and in doing so be filled with Him.
I feel my life parallels a marathon. The more I run, the less it hurts and I become stronger, able to go the distance. Painfully at times but always completing the distance. Spiritually, the more I surrender my weakness, my cries, my longings, my memories, also painfully at times, the more He strengthens me and glorifies Himself in me and thru my sorrow and sadness. Truly joy can co-exist with pain...it is even more filling, complete, a gift that I'm eternally thankful to receive...and running is just that a wonderful mix of intense joy, peace and oftentimes pain.
When my body could not, would not listen to my mind, and slowed down and threaten to stop, I fixed my eyes on the finish line, so near yet so far....the vision came easily, slowly, clearly of my homecoming...my Lord and my Saviour waiting, beckoning with open arms...my child, my Naomi, her voice mixing in with the voice of the saints calling my name, cheering me on, encouraging, loving me thru to the end. My knees painfully gave out all they had and moved me forward. A moment I wished would never end yet couldn't wait for it to be over. In that instant I wasn't running for my body but for my soul.
The moment of crossing the finish line was insignificant to those around me. After all only 18 people were behind me, I was one of the last, yet to me it was of great significance. Time mattered little but in the realm of eternity those hours matted much. A glimpse of light entered my darkness, just a little flickering ray of glorious light, enough to hold on to tightly, enough to leave me wanting more. It was at that moment that I knew I would survive and endure and finish in pain, but with hope, and joy and yes even peace.
True to God's character, His mercies never ceasing, I won third place in my age group. A humorous accomplishment, since I was so slow, but one that lifted me and affirmed to me that from that season on I was a runner.
Now I'm a runner, a marathoner no less. I run not from but to...
to clear my mind;
to tire my body;
to worship Him in the silence of my breathing;
to be lost in the movement of my legs;
to fill my lungs to their full capacity with fresh cool air;
and in doing so be filled with Him.
I feel my life parallels a marathon. The more I run, the less it hurts and I become stronger, able to go the distance. Painfully at times but always completing the distance. Spiritually, the more I surrender my weakness, my cries, my longings, my memories, also painfully at times, the more He strengthens me and glorifies Himself in me and thru my sorrow and sadness. Truly joy can co-exist with pain...it is even more filling, complete, a gift that I'm eternally thankful to receive...and running is just that a wonderful mix of intense joy, peace and oftentimes pain.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Lord of All Seasons
"If I can't give thanks, trust, and worship the Lord in every 'season,' in the face of any set of facts which may touch my life, I am not really a believer. It is here, in my corner of God's earth, that I'm assigned my lessons in the School of Faith." From "Keep a Quiet Heart" by Elisabeth Elliot
I don't know how good of a student I am in this "School of Faith." Often times I feel incapable of completing any of my given tasks. Sure I can take care of the little things, like keep the house, school the girls, do the laundry, make the meals, but the things that I think count for most of my grade, if in truth I'm being graded for this season, I can't seem to get to, as if my legs are made of lead and I move in slow motion in a very rapid life.
I am thankful, I do trust and worship the Lord in this very cold and listless season of my life. If only those things would motivate me to action, well that's another matter. I wonder if this is a normal part of grieving? Truthfully I don't want to use that as an excuse for my inability to act. I feel trapped at home, not wanting to leave, but when I do I am reluctant to return. Coming home is just as hard as leaving. All his things await patiently, for his return. Only I know he's not coming back! So I have decided to move forward and do what must be done quickly, all in one shot. I have called the ladies from church to come and help me get his stuff out of the house. I can see why people move after a love one leaves for heaven. Alas Naomi left, Ron left and I'm still here! Change is needed, the older ones have gone and taken what is special, all that is left is stuff, the insignificant everyday stuff, running gear, shoes, coats, etc. All the things no longer needed to function in a heavenly home. I'm aware that looking at the empty spaces will be just as hard but at least I'll be one step ahead in this process. Grieving is like childbirth, it only gets harder before it is over.
The ladies will be coming next week, and I'll be a good student and learn, and glorify Him as we put things away being thankful that he lived and enjoyed all these things that made it possible for him to love and play with us.
I don't know how good of a student I am in this "School of Faith." Often times I feel incapable of completing any of my given tasks. Sure I can take care of the little things, like keep the house, school the girls, do the laundry, make the meals, but the things that I think count for most of my grade, if in truth I'm being graded for this season, I can't seem to get to, as if my legs are made of lead and I move in slow motion in a very rapid life.
I am thankful, I do trust and worship the Lord in this very cold and listless season of my life. If only those things would motivate me to action, well that's another matter. I wonder if this is a normal part of grieving? Truthfully I don't want to use that as an excuse for my inability to act. I feel trapped at home, not wanting to leave, but when I do I am reluctant to return. Coming home is just as hard as leaving. All his things await patiently, for his return. Only I know he's not coming back! So I have decided to move forward and do what must be done quickly, all in one shot. I have called the ladies from church to come and help me get his stuff out of the house. I can see why people move after a love one leaves for heaven. Alas Naomi left, Ron left and I'm still here! Change is needed, the older ones have gone and taken what is special, all that is left is stuff, the insignificant everyday stuff, running gear, shoes, coats, etc. All the things no longer needed to function in a heavenly home. I'm aware that looking at the empty spaces will be just as hard but at least I'll be one step ahead in this process. Grieving is like childbirth, it only gets harder before it is over.
The ladies will be coming next week, and I'll be a good student and learn, and glorify Him as we put things away being thankful that he lived and enjoyed all these things that made it possible for him to love and play with us.
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