Rehab, the Story Continues: Santa is There

John 8:12 “Then spake Jesus again unto them, saying, I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.”

Three-and-a-half days! I made it. I made it to the weekend. But getting there was not without its many hurdles. This story is not all about ‘The Nursing Home’ ordeal, or the staff, this is about my journey, a fifty-two-year-old woman with stage four breast cancer, lymphedema of the left arm, radiation treatment to my bones and recovery of major surgery of my broken femur. Take for instance my Oral Chemo, it was running out, I did not have the wits about me to know how to reorder so I had to leave it up to my husband to take care of matters. The drugs I was on were pretty strong and keeping my mind busy and pretty much in a fog.

He called the Dr.s office, the nurse said she’d order it, no problem, he called back and Fay said it would be delivered Friday but needs a signature. Uh oh, hubby would have to miss work AGAIN, and miss seeing me all day to wait for meds! Not a happy gal but it’s okay, I’m tough and getting tougher by the day! Needless to say by three o’clock when the meds had not arrived hubby came to the hospital to visit me, even if it was only for two hours. He can’t drive at night, so we watched the sun (or lack thereof) very closely! A different story, the meds never arrived.

When Friday came I was happy to have made it to this day alive, although I had never wanted to give up more than I did this week. A loneliness had settled in, hubby knew it, and no amount of cuteness from Ray, or compassion from the staff could move me. It was a tough week on my spirit and soul. This was also the last day of radiation to my arm, and my son stepped up and said he could go to the CC with me. The weekend, I’d get a break, right? 

Then there was the day earlier in the week that they had to take my clothes to put name tags on them, even though we told them WE would wash them, they needed to be tagged. (I didn’t hand everything over but I stupidly gave them lounge pants, two flannels, brand new socks, and a pair of underwear. All were returned by Friday except my underwear and socks. When Kay, my occupational therapist heard this she set out on a search of my missing panties. She returned to my room waving them in her hand and said, “Hey, no wonder they wanted to keep them, they’re cute!” We both laughed but I through my tears. She hugged me!

Then there was Santa. Thursday had been a day of sunshine and warmth and I had even had a chance to open the window. Ray didn’t like the window opened because it gave her a chill. She was on the other side of the curtain between our beds and didn’t know it was open. The warmth, the sun, it was all I had to cling to. Yes, people, before you tell me to cling to God, please know, HE is the only thing that kept my breath in my lungs, He is first and foremost, but the sunshine and the warmth were for me on this day. 

Coming back from my radiation treatment that day found me in the sunshine. On the side of the entry to the hospital was a little area with a table and four chairs, lining a brick path were rocks, rocks of all shapes and sizes. Hubby and I followed the path, to the chairs and table and we sat in the sun, I in my wheelchair of course. We watched as nurses changed shift and a nurse had brought a resident outside to feel the warmth of the day. The table was back a little ways from the entry so hubby and I enjoyed the table and sunshine. I enjoyed the one monarch butterfly that landed on a rock not ten feet from me and my chair. Thank you, Jesus, I whispered out loud, as a tear trickled from my eye. 

Then he appeared, an older man hunched over his walker. He was taking tiny steps as he scooted to the path. An obvious Husker fan dressed from head to toe in his puffy red Husker slippers, his red husker lounge pants filled with the Husker team logo, all topped off with his white t-shirt with a big N for Nebraska, trimmed in red on sleeves and neck. His full white moustache and beard were reminiscent of Santa Claus. Steven softly sang… ‘here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus, right down Santa Claus lane...’. I smiled.

Santa stopped at the rocks and just stood there looking down at them. One minute, five minutes passed and he moved, inching closer to where Steven and I were sitting. Again, Santa paused to stare at the rocks. He was within earshot of me now, I said, “Do you like the rocks as much as I do?” I myself was eyeing one shaped like a heart. Yeah, I draw to me these kinds of people. 

He looked up at me, then back to the rocks before he answered, “Yeah.” He began inching closer to me again, and stopped, mesmerized by the rocks. He began talking without looking up from the rocks, “They’re beautiful. Back in my shop, I take CLR to clean them. It brings out their beauty, then I polyurethane them. Yup.” He began to turn around and looked at the other side of the path lined with rocks.

As he slowly turned, he made his way right to the edge of the path. I thought he was turning to go back in the home but no, he paused to look at this side of the path, too, before heading inside. Staring at the rocks he whispered, 

“Y’know, it’s like looking at a million mountains,”  he went on, “Y’know how the rocks are made don’t ya? The rain,” he paused a moment, “the rain cuts them out of the mountains and they all wash downstream, getting cleaned up through the river until we gather them and see them for their beauty.”

By this time I had tears in my eyes and Steven and I were both looking at each other in wonderment. I knew there was a message in there for me but I couldn’t see it through my tears. Santa looked at me and smiled raised a finger to tap his nose and he proceeded to slowly walk back to the door, with one last quick pause to gaze at the rocks, he went inside.

I told Steven that it was now time for me to go back inside too, I got what I came for, a message. I picked up a rock, and we went inside the home, to my room. It didn’t seem so small anymore.

The moral of the story to me is: We are all refined by God made perfect in His image as we go through the trials and suffering of being washed downstream until we’re seen in our perfection before the Lord.

Isa. 48:10 “Behold, I have refined thee, but not with silver; I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction.”

Holy Week ~ One Day I Will Die

Matt. 4:16 “The people which sat in darkness saw great light; and to them which sat in the region and shadow of death light is sprung up.”

~ One Day I Will Die ~

One day I will take my last breath

what will you remember of me?

My intense love of life

My emotional good spirit

or God’s Light that has set me free?

Will you hold my laughter in your hand

Will you see the joy I shared

Am I the girl you’ll always say

“Now there’s a woman who cared.”

One day I’ll whisper my last breath

What will I leave behind?

The pureness of heart

A well lit path

For you to try and find?

Will my passion for nature linger

Will my presence always bloom

Am I the one you’ll remember

Who lit an entire room?

One day I’ll breathe my last breath

The memory of me you’ll trade

Will any portion 

Of me remain

Or will my essence fade?

God light the fork before me

So I know which road to take.

Allow them to keep a part of me

That I know I dare not take. 

Matt. 22:5 “But they made light of it, and went their ways, one to his farm, another to his merchandise:”

God Bless you all! 

Angel Always, Godspeed....

Poetry Sunday ~ Lil Green Patch

 Ex. 23:20 Behold, I send an Angel before thee, to keep thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared.

***

Lil Green Patch

Where flowers in a field did prance

the moonglow perches ready to dance,

coyotes howl, the elk they call

on the crux of the rising fall.

Spilling over are leaves on the lawn

silently I await the dawn.

Darkness lingers as frost gives rise

I wipe the stardust from the skies.

Little hearts all take a bow;

shooting stars kiss me somehow.

They reach across the open plain

sprinkle down like falling rain.

Drizzled in an earthly show

something grander is here, I know.

Within my mind, I speak to them 

give a little of all that I am.

An earthly angel they see in flight

to bear to them a heavenly Light.

The heavens open in a fury

to Him I tend to give all glory.

Awakened now from this dream

everything is, as it would seem.

From the pages I dispatch,

the joy I found in a lil green patch.

From Oct. 2010 © Joni Zipp

Half A Century

(google image)

Jude 1:2  “Mercy unto you, and peace, and love, be multiplied.”

All of my life I’ve lied about my age. When I was 16 I lied and said I was eighteen so I could get served liquor in the bar. When I turned eighteen, the drinking age was changed to twenty-one and wouldn’t you know it, I lied then too. Funny thing is, when I was nine and going to the bar with my mother and father I didn’t need to be a certain age and I was very good at being mischievously sneaky in getting a drink. 

It began earlier in life when I used to go to bingo with my mother and you had to be sixteen but at twelve I didn’t look sixteen and by the time I did look sixteen I didn’t want to go to bingo I wanted to go to bars. What a phase. 

Many people are ashamed of their dark past escapades but I can’t hold shame because it was the years that I was forming being shaped into the person I am today. Just so you know, I quit drinking at twenty-one because there was no more mystery and excitement and well I had already been married for four years at the time so life was steam-rolling ahead.

Even when I first entered this windowed world at thirty-seven I lied and said I was twenty-nine figuring I was the older woman to younger people, and the younger woman to older people, if that makes any sense. Even a few years ago, my nephew (by marriage) asked my age and I instantly replied closer to forty than I am to fifty. 

Even at CHURCH I told my friend whose wife is the same age as me that I was over forty and not near fifty. He replied, “Good because once you hit fifty, it’s all downhill from there.”

So why do we lie about our age? I have my guesses but the reality is, we are all too eager to be older then when we get older we miss being younger. Reality has a hold on me now, I’m NOT getting any younger and yes I’m getting older, just like everyone else. Maybe I’ll finally catch up to my friends who are all nearing sixty or older.

My friend said that it’s all downhill from here but darn, I’ve never started climbing uphill or had that moment of an uphill so why do I go downhill from here? I don’t. I stay myself and take what is tossed at me in the winds of change and embrace it for what it is, change! 

The year of change is taking on different hues and as I celebrate 50, and my mother celebrates the day back home with me, (yes, I was born on my mother’s birthday) and we keep climbing UPHILL to that stairway of heaven that awaits us at the end of this journey, I embrace the odyssey. 

To all the people who wish me a happy birthday, I thank them from the bottom of my heart. I have never in my fifty years had a birthday party for myself, my mother always had a cake that said happy birthday, Del and as a side note the cake would have ‘and joni’. My birthday was never a celebration of me and I learned to accept that. A birthday is just the day you mark yourself and shout out to the world I MADE IT ANOTHER YEAR! People are happy that you’ve made it another year and thanks to facebook many people get to celebrate your day in some way with you. 

While my life continues on and I can rejoice living another year, I’m not done climbing yet and the hill seems steeper and steeper with each step. I will move onward and upward no matter what limitations my body has and now when people ask my age instead of saying ‘over the hill’ I can say ‘still climbing’. I’m okay with that.  Teeheehee

As Holy Week this year includes my birthday smack dab in the middle, I will continue on the path of sharing all that God has filled me with in my life and through me you will see a spirit-filled woman who is truly blessed in every sense of the word. 

God bless each and every one of you as He has me!

Angel always…godspeed!

Jude 1:3 “Beloved, when I gave all diligence to write unto you of the common salvation, it was needful for me to write unto you, and exhort you that ye should earnestly contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints.”

Angel Always... Godspeed

Pss. 104:4 “Who maketh his angels spirits; his ministers a flaming fire:”

Have you ever had one of those really good weeks where you wonder when the bottom is going to drop right out? It’s been that kind of week. 

Let me take you back two weeks when a dog, a yellow lab rounded the corner of the big blue barn-shed beside my house. Timid and scared, she made her way through my garden, around to the front of the house only to come back and sniff me out to see if I was an evil master or a good angel that she could trust. Anyone who knows me, knows she found a good person to trust in, right? 

I put up signs the next day looking for the owner, I searched lost dog sites and Facebook Lost Pet society to see if ANYONE owned this beautiful but scared dog. The one dog I saw on FB was named Reilly and this dog, for some reason, was responding to that name, but after posting a pic, the lady said it was not her dog. 

I own a dog, a pretty sizable female dog, so keeping Reilly is not an option but every day I’d wake and find her on my front steps or curled up in my garden. The days pass by and she’s still here letting us know she isn’t going anywhere. 

She has one of the deepest barks I’ve ever heard and keeping my neighbors and myself awake at night was going to be a serious problem! I bought a leash to hook her up to in the evening for when she goes on her midnight romps of chasing deer, skunk, raccoon or whatever she can bark at and it is working. She fell silent the nights hinged (a long chain with a collar) to a tree so I’ve since let her off to allow her the freedom, she barks it’s back on but this intelligent dog knows, just knows what I’m doing or trying to teach her. 

I posted a pic and my niece, Sara, right away said she looked like a dog I used to own named Shannon and that I just HAD to keep this dog. Another friend said that I HAD to take care of her because, Angel always? (my signature from way back) And that God would never turn ME away (yeah, the guilt card) and I’m kind of buying it but my husband has not softened up to her, yet. My sister said the dog was an angel sent for me. Oh my…

This was right around the time my husband lost his job but also right around the time he applied for a new job and got a call right away. Now, we can’t feed this oversized dog AND our oversized dog AND feed the family since well, no job and the time it will take to get money from the new job. Everything is stacked against me, or so it seems, from keeping this dog.

My neighbor has two small terrier dogs, a miniature Chihuahua and Reilly seems to think they’re her play toys. One day she played with them all day acting like the puppy that she is, not hurting them mind you, just jumping all around them telling them to play. Being older dogs they wanted nothing to do with Reilly. It brought back some unsettling memories of me as a child wanting to play and no one wanting to play with me because I was annoying or just the riff-raff type that their mothers wouldn’t allow their kids to play with. (Thanks Reilly)

Just so you know, I HAVE been feeding Reilly and giving her food and maybe THAT is why she won’t leave. When a thunderstorm hit the other night I was totally nervous for this dog being outside and I tried so hard to get her into my shed but she just shied away from me. Yesterday’s rain had me calling her again but she sauntered off and went under my neighbor Lisa’s trailer that she keeps as a doghouse for her dogs. It is just a trailer full of junk like old books and papers, magazines, old rugs and stuff. Reilly is one smart dog!

That brings me to today. Yes Reilly is still here wandering around this big old run down Turkey Ranch and greeting us when we walked out the door this morning to take my son to get his driver’s license. He had to take the same test that he failed three times before. But today would be different yes? YES!

Different from the other times was Adam’s optimism and confidence. I allowed him to wear my thumbprint necklace, which is a thumbprint of my deceased father. I wanted a part of my dad to be a part of this day. When Adam walked out the door of the DMV with a MALE who was going to test him, I knew, I just knew that this would be the day he passed! I even said, “He’s going to pass.” Just by seeing whom the tester was.

The other times he had a female to test him and Adam was not confident with them. This time was different Adam left with a smile and returned with A SMILE! A smile that signaled to me, he passed! I cried! I didn’t bawl my eyes out but tears began trickling out of my eyes. He came out the door with his temporary license in his hand, a smile on his face and I gave him the biggest hug ever! 

The week has been richly full of blessings. My mother has seen to it that we can make it until we get a real paycheck again by sending me ‘a treat’ which will buy me food and me taking care of Reilly is essentially ‘paying it forward’.

May the week continue to be joyful and prosperous as I head into my birthday week!

Angel Always, Godspeed.

Ezra 5:31 “Now when I had spoken these words, the angel that came to me the night afore was sent unto me,”

Reilly

Merry Christmas

“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, 

stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

― Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas!

Do you remember the days when Christmas or saying Merry Christmas wasn’t questioned? No one ever thought of it as a religious holiday or even turned a side-glance in voicing the theory that Christmas was just a way to shove religion down other people’s throats.

Christmas was always celebrated as a season of giving, with lights and bows adorning houses, gleeful exchanges of Merry Christmas to one another, and toys, we can’t forget about the toys. 

It was a time of the year that families got together, exchanged gifts, ate good food and reminisced about earlier days of Christmas joys that were shared by one and all. It was a time where people gathered around the tree and maybe sung some carols; looked at the beautiful lights on many houses and maybe even drove around the neighborhood to look at the other people and their houses to see how they decorated and celebrated Christmas.

I remember days when Christmas was anticipated not dreaded. My dad always made us wait to put up the Christmas tree until Christmas Eve, in later years maybe two weeks before Christmas and we always took it down after January 7th, after Little Christmas.

We excitedly waited for Christmas knowing there would be toys involved, we’d see family that we never saw much during the year and there would certainly be a lot of laughter and joy during the season. 

The season of giving has turned into the season of greed, materialism, selfishness, and ignorance and let’s not forget the political correctness of it all. Don’t you dare say Merry Christmas because it might offend someone!

Who does Christmas offend? Does it offend the Jewish? No. I’ve heard many say that Christmas doesn’t offend them; they have their Hanukkah/Yom Kippur. Furthermore, they don’t believe Jesus was the Son of God anyway so no, they’re not offended. Are the Muslims offended? They don’t believe Jesus was the Son of God either, so no, I don’t think they’re offended.

Exactly who DOES Christmas offend and why are we being forced to use politically correct terms? I got it, it offends those who think that God should be taken out of our government and Nation. But doesn’t our nation stand by “In GOD we trust.” 

It helps if you understand what the Christmas celebration is all about, celebrated by billions around the world. It isn’t just an American holiday celebrated by the Christians. It is celebrated by all kinds of people from all walks of life, Christian or not. You as a human being can celebrate it or not. If you’re offended, then DON’T celebrate the season. It is as simple as that. The offended are the non-tradition holders.

The people who are offended are usually the people who have no God, no spirituality in their life and no cares for tradition or for the season. In years past the Christians were not outnumbered but as of recent days, people are of many different cultures/ religions/ denominations and thus offended by the Christian. 

We are not shoving our Christianity down your throat we are just paying homage to the traditions of our country (in this case USA) and therefore we continue in Christmas celebrations. Do you celebrate your birthday every year? Of course you do, it is a yearly tradition. No one is offended by facebook forcing others to know when your birthday is and therefore receiving many well wishes on your birthday.

No one seems offended by other holidays just the ones where Christ is involved. Again, our yearly Christian traditions! No one is forcing you to celebrate them, no one is making you take part in any Christ celebrations, we Christians are celebrating with a million other folk. Just because you’re in the crowd of non-believers, should we change the way we celebrate the millennia of celebratory TRADITIONS?

Should we give Atheists a holiday? Is it a tradition passed down for centuries? No? Then no, they should not just pop up and demand a holiday. You see what I’m saying? We are celebrating TRADITION that has been passed down from generation to generation. We didn’t just come up with this holiday and begin shoving it down your throat. 

Granted the holiday has taken on new shapes, forms and meaning to different people and the Christian doesn’t cry afoul of the stores demeaning their holy day for material prosperity.

We sit back and watch as stores demoralize the tradition of Christmas. The merchandiser starts right after Halloween, they make people work on Thanksgiving and even they have ruined their Black Friday event that pushes people (literally) into the materialization of Christmas. This is not what the Christmas Holiday is all about and as you sit offended by people saying Merry Christmas, I as a Christian sit offended by the destruction of a Holy Day, a day that *I* celebrate as a holy tradition. 

Christmas to me now is just another day to gather with some family. It no longer holds the traditional lore that I grew up knowing. Technically, it isn’t even Jesus’ birthday; it’s just a tradition holder. And so I go on celebrating Christmas... in a spiritual manner. 

Luke 2: 8-14 “And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”

photo by Elaine DeBaucher

Mixed Emotions

Ecc. 7:3 Sorrow is better than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better.

Yesterday was not a good day, not a good day at all. It would be the day of my dad’s funeral. The day that family all gathered ‘round sharing tears, memories and love. There would be brothers and a sister, aunts, nieces and nephews, maybe cousins who I haven’t seen in ages all gathering to show their love for my father. There would be something missing from the family gathering…namely me. A series of mixed emotions would encompass my entire day.

Steven was very sick yesterday. Well, seriously he’s been sick for two weeks, first with a nasal infection but it seemed to have cleared up but by Monday something was running amok in his chest. He has asthma and breathing had become very tiring for him and by yesterday when I woke he announced, “I have to go to the doctor!” I scurried to get dressed in record time and we were at the doctor by 9:30.

I had first called my mother to make sure she was okay on what would be the hardest day of her life, putting her husband of sixty years to rest. I tried to keep it together but by the time we returned home from the doctor, I was once again on the phone to my mother seeing to it that she was going to be okay. She assured me that she would be, she had loving family surrounding her and she’d be okay.

After the phone call I broke down sobbing like a child who lost her puppy. I run the gamut of emotions from sadness, anger, guilt, shame, hate, love, sorrow, grief, concern despair and sympathy. No wonder the tears flowed by the bucketful.

At three o’clock (four o’clock eastern time), the time the funeral was to begin, I lit a candle for my dad, placed my little angels around the emanating light and sat a picture of my mother and father there and then I mourned. I was once again crying like a fire hydrant at full throttle. I was feeling all the pain that my family was enduring rush over me, as I looked at memorial pictures of my dad at the funeral parlor’s website.

Why am I not there? Why am I not grieving with my family? Why did nobody see to it that I was able to make the trip? I threw a pity party for myself and it felt okay, it felt like the right thing to do alone out in the middle of nowhere. The answers would come one day, but right now I just wanted to be alone to cry, to let the floodgates open and mourn.

Last night for some reason I wanted to watch It’s A Wonderful Life. I wanted to see Clarence, I wanted to see George, I wanted to see family and friends rally around him to make sure his Christmas would be a memorable one that made his life worth living. I wanted to see Clarence get his wings and leave George the message from beyond, “No man is a failure who has friends.”

It's a Wonderful Life

If it were not for my friends rallying around me to offer me comfort and support, the death of my father would be unbearable. I received a condolence card from a dear friend whom I’ve never met in person, yet she reached out, took her time out of her day to think of ME! Nothing touched me more than that moment of knowing, someone out there, cared for ME. My spiritual friends have been a welcome comfort where my blood family cast me aside and sent me out to sea.

After the movie ended I once again placed a call to my mother, not thinking she’d be home yet, so I’d leave a message reminding her to take her medicine. To my surprise she answered the phone and said she had just walked in the door. She went on to tell me how it was good seeing my father with no tubes in his nose, no mask on his face and not being hooked to wires. She felt a peaceful feeling knowing that she had family surrounding her during one of her darkest days. As we parted words I would go to bed in a sea of mixed emotions.

"Each man's life touches so many other lives, and when he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?" says the angel Clarence to George Bailey.

Poetry Sunday ~ Would have been ~ Eleven Years

Matt. 18:10 “Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones; for I say unto you, That in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in heaven.”

Eleven Years

Eleven years without you

An eternity in my heart

Eleven years of hurt

Too many years apart.

Eleven years I’ve cried

Each one without you here

Eleven years I’ve missed

But never missed a tear

Eleven years of a piece

That’s missing from my soul.

A baby girl I longed to see

Leaving me an empty hole.

Eleven years I’ve known your place

Is not here by my side

Eleven years you’ve walked along

In an angelic heavenly stride.

Eleven years that you’ve been gone

But one day we’ll be together

Never again to walk alone

We’ll fly like birds of a feather.

To you my beloved daughter

I cherish your time in me.

I await to be reunited

Where we’ll spend our eternity!

God Bless You, Astri Celia Brandt

Still Born: 4-26-04

 

 

Poetry Sunday ~ I Give Thanks

1 Chron. 16: 8 Give thanks unto the LORD, call upon his name, make known his deeds among the people.

 

 I Give Thanks

 For all we are and all we do

we give our thanks each day.

We live, grow, change and mend

I give my thanks and pray.

I thank my mother and father

for all the things they gave.

Within their hand they held my life

but only One could save.

I led the life He wanted for me

although the road was rough.

I never look back with any regret

the rocky roads were tough.

The path was laid before we were born

the forks were all in place.

Which we chose was a cosmic bend

that altered time and space.

I found a cross in my walk

as I wandered through each year.

Whimsical times and frenzied mind

He made it all seem clear.

The crystal shell lay in shards

glass was torn to pieces.

He put them all together again

my love for Him never ceases!

I thank the Lord for carrying me

through my most daunting days.

I’m mended now because of Him,

a path of newfound ways.

I'm No Angel

Pss. 103: 20 Bless the LORD, ye his angels, that excel in strength, that do his commandments, hearkening unto the voice of his word.

I’m no Angel

I know that I’m no angel

Least not in the biblical sense

My Light doesn’t come from this world

I suffer no pretense.

The people will see my actions

And all that I convey

I try to be obedient

And serve Him throughout the day.

I know that I’m no angel

I’m a sinner just as you.

I walk amid salvation

My Lord will pull me through.

I know my God is watching

All things I do and say.

He sends to me a lost soul

That I might show the way.

I know that I’m no angel

I don’t profess to be

I only bring a message

Of Light that shines from me.

Heb 13: 2 Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.

Poetry Sunday ~ The Voice of a Child

Rev. 3: 5 He that overcometh, the same shall be clothed in white raiment; and I will not blot out his name out of the book of life, but I will confess his name before my Father, and before his angels.

The Voice of a Child

Written many years ago~Joni

A little seed, gently placed, into the hands of time.
Her soul was left amid the blooms in the garden of life sublime.
No one understood her quest and often nor did she.
There she dwelt in a cryptic world where eyes could never see.

Reaching out she uttered words, in hopes someone would hear.
But all alone the resounding truth whispered only to her ear.
She followed the path of righteousness the stones of suffering were lain.
Scattered among the rubble she bravely took the pain.

A force of light it beckoned her; the eden in her mind.
Surrounded by tranquility’s base, with souls so warm and kind.
Firmly standing in the pool of faith while others scoffed and scorned.
No one could see this young girl’s light or the wings that she adorned.

Cutting through, slashing her strength; all thought that she would fall.
Instead she rose above the realm to the place of duties call.
Sheltered within securities cage; no cry was she to mumble.
Awaiting the grace of a healing shield while always remaining humble.

The blessed healing swiftly came; her thirst did not subside.
Spreading her wings, surely to soar; one light her only guide.
Quenching her faithful desire, her pining never to cease.
Freedom stands at her doorstep...she now has gained release!!!

Luke 20: 36 Neither can they die any more: for they are equal unto the angels; and are the children of God, being the children of the resurrection.

* one definition of an angel: a person having qualities generally attributed to an angel, as beauty, purity, or kindliness.

Happy Birthday Christopher

Pss. 91: 11 For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.

To whom it may concern (or not) I am emotionally drained at this time and am in prayer for forgiveness, for understanding and for strength in fighting the enemy that sees me down and thinks this is the best time to attack. Just like him isn’t it? To kick me when I’m down?

You may say, “What’s wrong with her now?” Allow me to tell you.

Back in 1982 I found myself, a young teenager, pregnant. Two years prior I became a born-again Christian, so this pregnancy didn’t bode well with my Catholic family and me. My dad asked me what I wanted to do and without hesitation I said, keep my baby!

Talk about feeling unworthy! But by the grace of God I was saved and my pending due date was set for December 12^th of that year. By November of that year God had a different plan for my life and it was clearly evident to me.

On the cold Thanksgiving Day, November 28^th of 1982, I ate my meal and was feeling pretty sick with pains I assumed was gas. I was a child and knew nothing of what I was to feel, I thought the baby was moving around kicking me with no room to move with all that food I had put in my stomach.

The next day I arose, not feeling right. God and I had been talking, as we always did, and he was telling me it was time. Still young in my faith, I didn’t know how to interpret the meaning but I knew I had to go see the doctor because the baby had stopped moving.

I arrived at the doctors and my worst fear was realized, no heartbeat meant my baby had quietly fell asleep. I was sent to the hospital where they had ultrasound equipment to verify what I had known and felt. My baby was no more.

The father of the baby and my mother both went to the hospital with me and we all received the news, the baby was dead, gone, not meant to be. I was told I would have to allow my body ‘to reject the fetus’; those cold heartless words ring in my ear to this day! I would carry a lifeless being inside my body. I had to face my family and had to be strong or this would be the life of me.

Now keep in mind that my four brothers all hated the idea of me keeping the baby and had told me over and over again how I should’ve just killed ‘it’. My sister had her own issues with me keeping the baby. Only my mother, father and boyfriend had accepted my CHOICE in keeping my baby!

At 3:17 am on December 2, I gave birth to a son; a son who would never look me in the eyes. A son who would lay on that cold slab, never to let out his first cry. A son who made an angelic appearance at entry into the world by lighting the room to where even the doctor and nurse were mystified. Christopher Alexander was STILL born!

Pss. 148: 2 Praise ye him, all his angels: praise ye him, all his hosts.

I didn’t hold him, I didn’t do what now in hindsight I wished I had done and left the hospital later that day to recover at home. Mortified and empty I felt alone.

Everyone had assumed I would hate God for this and at my follow up appointment with the heartless doctor, he asked me how I was holding up emotionally.

“Well” I said, “devastated, empty, lonely, heartbroken. Every emotion you can imagine.”

He began jotting down stuff. “Are you angry at God for this?”

“NO!” I exclaimed point blank. “God took my son because He needed him. He is giving him more than I could ever imagine.”

He jotted more. In later years when I had finally got my medical records through unlikely resources, I saw that the doctor had jotted down ‘patient is unattached’, ‘shows no emotion’!

I wanted to sue the man’s pants off but again, I was a child; I knew nothing but I did understand forgiveness. I had to forgive this creepy, heartless, unfeeling doctor if I was ever to move on in life.

Every year it gets easier, but this year the memories hit hard because Thanksgiving fell on the 28^th. The flood of emotions were overwhelming to the point not one person in my world can understand, and I don’t want you to just to spare you the pain.

I’ve grown a lot in these 31 years; I still speak to the Lord, I hear him in everything I do and carry Him wherever I go. Maybe now you can understand my indebtedness to my Savior and why I am such a faithful servant.

For by grace was I saved and He has never ONCE let me down. I may fall in the pit sometimes but the enemy won’t sway me while I’m down there, I carry a LIGHT within never to darken.

Matt. 4: 11 Then the devil leaveth him, and, behold, angels came and ministered unto him.

Poetry Sunday ~ The Angel's Called

Ex. 23:20 Behold, I send an Angel before thee, to keep thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared.
***
~~The Angel’s Called ~~

The angels came from mounted high,
cradled his soul I don't know why.
Wrapped in fleece-like softened wings;
silenced now he no longer sings.

Nestled within a tidal womb
fertile bed becomes a tomb
Shrouded in the serene abode
a vacant place his body stowed.

Earthbound duty not his call,
a rain of stars on him did fall.
Whisked away before I could hold;
a lifeless body lay there cold.

Summoned to be an angel himself;
journey of breath put on a shelf.
Though I miss his earthly duty;
I savor now his angelic beauty.

  December 2nd is the BIRTHday of my son, whose eyes I never saw, whose heart that didn’t beat, whose arms were never touched, for we never did meet.

Happy Birthday to Christopher Alexander
born -- 12-2-82  moved on 12-2-82

My Angel: A Poem

My Angel

4-26-13

In my mind I watch her grow

the little baby I’ll never know.

I held her nestled in my womb.

her ringlets of hair I’ll never groom.

I watch her in the grass to play,

I swing with her on a sunny day.

Her fancy purple Easter dress,

her softened skin I often caress.

She sinks into the books she’s reading

finds sheer joy in our yearly seeding.

I watch with her as the seedlings grow.

Dances around when they make a show.

Twirling and spinning I often see

some little part of a younger me.

I long to hold this small-framed girl,

My angel, my daughter, my pleasant pearl.

Some things in life are not meant to be

As with my baby, little Astri.

Motionless I held her in my arms

A lifetime of beauty and earthly charms.

But lo and behold He needed her more,

She took with her a piece of my core.

I find solace in her place above,

Knowing heaven is her garden of love!

To All a Good Night

Luke 2:13-14   And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,
 Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

To All a Good Night...
***
'Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the house
all the creatures were stirring
even a tiny small mouse.
The stockings all hung but not by a fire
across the wall they hang by a wire.
The kids are ready for Christmas to come
I sitting quiet with a soft spoken hum.
I think of times that were happy and gay
I look for my family that sits miles away.
They are all bustling in their own lovely house
with food and warmth, some with a spouse.
All of my needs are well taken care of
my home is joyous and full of love.
My fridge has food with milk to spare
I have sugar cookies, all ready to share.
I have great friends who all support me
in writing, and fellowship just like family.
I sit and I read with new found joy
of this wonderful story, of a God sent boy.
I look to the Light and all it’s glory
of Jesus and angels a glorious story.
I think the world has passed on by,
they whine for wants and it makes me cry.
I need to drink in all this I’m given
my life is full and worth me livin’,
I’ll focus on me and all that I AM,
remembering to Him, my life is a gem.
To all of my friends I give great praise,
I’ll pray for them in the coming days.
For now I’m tired and must travel far,
to find that wondrous beautiful star.
This angel must go as she rises to flight
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

Poetry Sunday ~ Angel's Flight

Ex. 23: 20 Behold, I send an Angel before thee, to keep thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared.

***
Angels Flight
***
In the midst of it all,
in a puddle knee high,
the pain is holding me,
seething, I cry.

In the midst of it all
as angels gather ‘round.
the snow it whispers
nary a sound.

In the midst of it all
while men remain sleeping.
I slowly gain strength,
no longer weeping.

In the midst of it all
as they pass me by
the Lord is my power
with Him I’ll fly.

In the midst of it all
as Christmas draws near
time to embrace
the things we hold dear.

In the midst of it all
in the still of the night.
I gather my faith
as my wings take flight.

The Angels Called

Ex. 23:20 Behold, I send an Angel before thee, to keep thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared.
***
~~The Angel’s Called ~~

The angels came from mounted high,
cradled his soul I don't know why.
Wrapped in fleece-like softened wings;
silenced now he no longer sings.

Nestled within a tidal womb
fertile bed becomes a tomb
Shrouded in the serene abode
a vacant place his body stowed.

Earthbound duty not his call,
a rain of stars on him did fall.
Whisked away before I could hold;
a lifeless body lay there cold.

Summoned to be an angel himself.
Journey of breath put on a shelf.
Though I miss his earthly duty;
I savor now his angelic beauty.

Today is the BIRTHday of my son, whose eyes I never saw, whose heart that didn’t beat, whose arms were never touched, for we never did meet.

Happy Birthday to Christopher Alexander
born -- 12-2-82  moved on 12-2-82

Birthday Girl

Ps 103:20-21 Bless the LORD, ye his angels, that excel in strength, that do his commandments, hearkening unto the voice of his word.
***

Many many years ago a mother was scurrying around in her duster robe, rollers bouncing in her head while ironing the days clothes. Her mother sat in the far corner of the room watching and shaking her head in disbelief, as her daughter, nine months pregnant and about to burst, would not take it easy.

The pangs grew and grew until finally she whimpered, “I think I need to go to the hospital.” It was her birthday, but this was not a time to think of herself. Squirming inside was a little bundle who wanted to come out kicking and screaming to greet the world and be her mother’s biggest birthday surprise ever.

As the mother watched her daughter writhing with pangs of labor, she dialed the phone of the cab company. “Can you stop ironing long enough to have the baby?” she grumbled.

“Wait, I have to get these rollers out of my hair!”

“NOW?”

“Yes now!” she screamed at her mother while unwinding the rollers and quickly running a brush through her hair. “Where’s my purse?”

After applying lipstick, the horn could be heard honking loudly at the front curb, ready to escort the two ladies. Waddling to the cab and shutting the door, the cab takes off in a slow manner, as all cab drivers do to make the meter run. “Uh, sir? I’m having a baby!”

“Wha- WHAT???” he stammered. “I could of just went down the one way street and got you there quicker!”

This is my daughters sixth child so it will probably come pretty quick--” she trailed off seeing the hospital in view.

The emergency room was packed and after the formalities and sign ins, a room was found and the doctor notified. “You just get as comfortable as possible, I’ll be back to check on ya in a bit. You’re not ready yet.” The doctor said as he walked out the door.

Five minutes later, what seemed like two, a little baby girl was in the arms of her mother, looking up in wonder at the new world that greeted her with a kiss. Snow gently falling outside the window, warm arms cradling the bundle, the doctor exclaimed, “You just couldn’t wait could you?”

“What a wonderful birthday present you are!” the mother whispers to her new gift.

Joni Zipp was born on this day...a girl of wonder and dreams all lay before her. The embodiment of love, light and beauty; she embraces everything that is tossed in her path and now finds herself bouncing through life like a curl fresh out of  a hair-roller. This day in history marks the birth of an angel, one that will give hope to the hopeless, love to those unloved, joy to the sad, inspiration to the lost, and Light when all the world seems dark.

Yes, she is human, every fiber of her being is human, but she has soared to heights unseen carrying with her, the wings of an angels spirit. God blessed her and her mother on this day in history, so to her I wish...a BLESSED birthday among many, and many more to come!

Ps 148:2 Praise ye him, all his angels: praise ye him, all his hosts.

Poetry Sunday ~ These Wings

Pss. 104:4 Who maketh his angels spirits; his ministers a flaming fire:
***

These Wings 
(c) Joni Zipp
***
These wings I have are heavy
as I stand out in the rain
trying to carry the burdened world
through troubled times and pain.

These wings I have are broken
from the blades that tried to maim. 

The world is gray and cloudy
as I look out through the flame.

These wings I have are drooping
as if I’ve no more care
nothing left inside of me
to make the plumage flair.

These wings I have are shelter
from all the tears I’ve shed
through turbulent times they flutter,
as if calling out the dead.

These wings I have will carry me
to the next phase of my life
through worrisome tribulations
over mountainous new strife.

These wings I have will guide me
to serenity and peace.
The Lord will breathe his glory
and give my soul release.

All rights reserved: copyright © Joni  Zipp

Poetry Sunday~ Lil Green Patch

Pss. 90: 6 In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up; in the evening it is cut down, and withereth.
 

Ex. 23:20 Behold, I send an Angel before thee, to keep thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared.
***

Lil Green Patch
***
Where flowers in a field did prance
the moonglow perches ready to dance,
coyotes now howl, the elk they call
on the crux of the rising fall.

Spilling over are leaves on the lawn
silently I await the dawn.
Darkness lingers as frost gives rise
I wipe the stardust from the skies.

Little hearts all take a bow;
shooting stars kiss me somehow.
They reach across the open plain
sprinkle down like falling rain.

Drizzled in an earthly show
something grander is here, I know.
Within my mind I speak to them
give a little of all that I am.

An earthly angel they see in flight
to bear to them a heavenly light.
The heavens open in a fury
to Him I tend to give all glory.

Awakened now from this dream
everything is, as it would seem.
From the pages I dispatch,
the joy I found in a lil green patch.