Showing posts with label mother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mother. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 14, 2019

Flower of Effort ~ A Mother's Day poem for ME

Ezek.: 19:10 "Thy mother is like a vine in thy blood, planted by the waters: she was fruitful and full of branches by reason of many waters."

Flower of Effort
copyright © Adam Zipp


Rainbows over a sun settled sea
Gardens flowing in an effortless breeze
Time forever changing
We ask ourselves what it means to be
Similar to a tree

Trunk so tall and thick
Bark as tough as brick
Growing in an open field
A spot that's hard to pick
Stoic and unmoving
Green and forever growing
Not everyone can be such a powerful thing

Some must settle to grow as a flower
To make up for their lacking in power
Through effort and courage
To withstand the weather
And the cold that comes in November

To understand the effort
Know what lies beneath the dirt
A mask to cover the pain and hurt
Rain softens the soil
That brings the flower its comfort

In trying times
Be like the flower
with wind blowing chimes
Signs of future rain showers
So spread your petals and let them climb
No one could be prouder.

~~~~    *  ~~~~

No need to rip this apart with crits. This was my loving Mother's Day gift from my son, who happens to be following in m footsteps as a writer and poet and I couldn't be more proud!

Thank you, Adam! I love you!




Sunday, December 31, 2017

Poetry Sunday ~ Christmas' Past

a google image

Gal. 4:10 "Ye observe days, and months, and times, and years."


This will be my last post of the roller-coaster ride I call 2017! Not a great year but an enlightening year where God felt I was worthy to receive a second chance at life. So many lives were taken this year and here I am with a new lease. Thank you, Lord.
I'm sharing the last poem I wrote in 2017, not a great one but a card to my mother who still mourns for her husband of sixty years. I try to make them simple and not sad for her.

May you all have a Happy, Blessed New Year in 2018!


Merry Christmas
12-12-2017

I fondly remember Christmas past
The steps, the lights, the peace
Our laughter filling up the house
The memories that I release.

My Christmas’ of the present
No longer hold the past
They stay behind as memories
That never seems to last.

Our future is uncertain
Never knowing where we’ll roam
The joy of Christmas present
Is in the place that you call home.

Home is neither here nor there
It’s a place with which I start
To feel the love nestled close
Endearing to my heart.


2 Pet. 3:8 "But, beloved, be not ignorant of this one thing, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day."




Monday, May 08, 2017

Honor Thy Mother

Ex. 20:12 "Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee."

Honor Thy Mother

This weekend coming up is Mother’s Day. I don’t usually celebrate these days but Mother’s Day has some importance since mother’s all over the world will be celebrated for giving birth and being a mother. Think about it, you would not be here without your mother.

Like any other inquisitive person I had to find out why we celebrate mother’s day in the first place. I was wrong in my assumption that we celebrated the day because we were celebrating Mary giving birth to Jesus or some other religious aspect. I learned something new today and want to share what I learned with you.

Info from my google feed:

Where does Mother’Day come from?

It is celebrated on different days across the world but is generally observed between April and May in the northern hemisphere. The modern holiday of Mother's Day was first celebrated in 1908, when Anna Jarvis held a memorial for her mother in Grafton, West Virginia.

Why do we celebrate mother’s day?

Celebrations of mothers and motherhood can be traced back to the ancient Greeks and Romans, who held festivals in honor of the mother goddesses Rhea and Cybele, but the clearest modern precedent for Mother's Day is the early Christian festival known as “Mothering Sunday.”

Who came up with the idea of Mother’s Day?

Mother's Day started as an anti-war movement. Anna Jarvis is most often credited with founding Mother's Day in the United States. Designated as the second Sunday in May by President Woodrow Wilson in 1914, aspects of that holiday have since spread overseas, sometimes mingling with local traditions.

Interesting facts about the Dark History of Mother’s Day.

When did Mother’s Day originate?

In 1914, Woodrow Wilson signed a proclamation designating Mother's Day, held on the second Sunday in May, as a national holiday to honor mothers. Although Jarvis was successful in founding Mother's Day, she became resentful of the commercialization of the holiday.

***

I think you get the idea. Mother’s Day was all about honoring mothers and here in America we chose to see the almighty dollar and commercialized the day to the hilt. 

I have always just written my mother (and father, Father’s Day) a card on this day honoring them with respect with words from my heart. I think that meant more to them than any money (that I never had) to give them.

While my siblings showered my mother and dad on their respective holidays with money ($100 or $50 with an expensive Hallmark card), flowers, or food (A dozen steamed crabs excited my mother and are always pricey), my mother and father always looked forward to the poem I would write that would either make them laugh but more often than not, make them cry. 

As my mother was going through the personal belongings of my dad after he passed she found poems of mine that my dad had in his drawer, his wallet, or used as a bookmark throughout the years. I cried tears of joy and tears of sorrow when my mother told me that my dad kept many (if not all) of my poems close to him. How much of the money, food or flowers did they still have, none, but my poems held weight, my words had meaning!

So as you celebrate this upcoming Mother’s Day, don’t think of the flower, money or card you can give her, think of the words you’d like to say to her, (it doesn’t have to be a poem) and write to her. Whether your mother or mom, or significant mother is alive or deceased, write to her. Trust me on this one, your words will mean more than anything to you AND mainly to HER, the mother you’re honoring. And maybe one day in the future you’ll find your words tucked in a special place of hers that she cherished.

If your mom is deceased take the words to her gravesite or read them aloud to her. Let her know that these are the words you wished you had said while she was alive basking in the gifts but not your words. Don’t let Hallmark be your words this Mother’s Day let YOU be your words this Mother’s Day!

Have a most BLESSED week my friends!

2 Sam. 22:50 “Therefore I will give thanks unto thee, O LORD, among the heathen, and I will sing praises unto thy name.”

Monday, October 31, 2016

Memory Lane

Annapolis Maryland

Pss. 23:3 “He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.”

The Path Down Memory Lane

Last week was one long stroll down memory lane. I understand we’re not to live in the past but to move forward, but something about the season of fall makes me want to stroll down that path, at least once a year to revisit the good and bad that I left behind.

I don’t wallow in the mire; I never cling to the dust, I just reminisce then brush it off like an over neglected attic. Sweep the lint, brush away the good and bad crud, filter what goes out and comes back in. Yeah, that’s the best way to deal with an unsavory past.

When people see me now they think, ‘oh it couldn’t have been all that bad, look how well she turned out.’ This statement might be true from your perspective, on the outside looking in, but from my perspective, life was not good in any way shape or form.  

I started writing my blog in 2005 but didn’t start taking the writing and expression of my thoughts seriously until 2008. In the very beginning the blog was just about my thoughts, most of which I deleted but by 2008 I turned the blog into helping writers and the craft of writing. 

I’ve been writing poetry all of my life and really didn’t get into writing fiction until about 2004 when WVU (Writers Village University) came into my life and changed my path forever. I was so excited with the new turn in my life, I shared it with my family who as always, never for one second encouraged me and didn’t really care about my writing unless I was famous and making tons of money. 

As years passed by my love of writing grew and my blog has been an important avenue of healing because it is here where I bare my soul and that’s why the name changed a few years back, I was healing and moving away from the painful past and moving into a new leg of the journey that God had carved out for me in my path to the future. 

My journey is not about making money, my journey is about healing and this is what you read, a sinner on the path of healing. I write from my heart and if my family read anything I wrote they would, I’m certain, be ashamed of not having more to do with me or they’d be angry and finger pointing but such as it is, they will only look for my writing AFTER my death.

Job 30:13 “They mar my path, they set forward my calamity, they have no help.”

I have written my mother and father poems since I was very young. I can honestly say I can’t remember the last time I bought a Hallmark card for them, I’ve always written my own. Maybe not Hallmark quality but it spoke to them and how much I cherished them in my life. My sister was always jealous of my ability to convey meaning to my parents via poems and she has tried writing a poem once but her one try in life came off as forced emotion; whereas my father adored my poems and looked forward to them with every Christmas, birthday and father’s day.

This is what started the stroll down memory lane last week when my mother was reading the poems I wrote to my dad and she told me that she cried with reading each one. She also said that my dad had kept a lot of them in his drawer, I guess so he could read them and feel somewhat close to me as I, his baby, was so far away from home. Then she said something that unknowingly hurt, she said my father read one and looked at her and said, “We’re never going to see her again, are we.” It hurt because he never had a chance to see me again or to hear the last poem I wrote him. (Thanks to my sister, he never got to hear it read. Bitter? YES! Admittedly so!)

While everyone is ranting and raging about politics, I’m taking a stroll, one that has me thinking selfishly about my healing, my growth and myself. Is that selfish? I don’t think so, I’m reminded of a childhood that was, I reminisce of the pain-filled life I left behind, and I look to a brighter future with my Lord by my side and Him whispering to me saying, “he (my father) heard the last poem you wrote, as did I, I am well pleased.”

Yes, He always talks to me like that. Always has and always will! The stroll down memory lane will end for now as I head into my future with my Lord and I walking hand-in-hand. 

Pss. 16:11 “Thou wilt shew me the path of life: in thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.”


Saturday, October 29, 2016

On This Day


1 Cor. 15:2 “By which also ye are saved, if ye keep in memory what I preached unto you, unless ye have believed in vain.”

On This Day

On this day last year my dad passed away. This week has been a culmination of tears and memories leading me down memory lane. Every phone call to my mother this week has been of her rehashing the weeks that led to the final week which led to the day that my dad passed. I sat and listened allowing her to let out her grief so maybe she would find solace.

She tells me over and over again how my brother in Tennessee is still taking it hard and he let’s her know repeatedly how much he misses my father. Then there is the story of my sister who (now has his car) is driving around with a picture of my dad on the dashboard and how she wears the memorial necklace ALL the time.

I haven’t heard from ANY of my siblings since my dad passed. The last call to my brother was last year when he said, as we ended the call, to stay in touch and I did try, but as you can imagine he has his own family and doesn’t really have anything to do with any of his siblings anymore. There comes a time when the letdown is not worth the pain attributed to the lack of communication from siblings.

I can’t handle people saying over and over, “But that is your family; your blood.” I only have one dear friend who told me to just let them go and move on, the pain is not worth it, and he’s right. 

These past thirteen years haven’t been the easiest on me but I feel a peace here I’ve never had in my entire life. I feel loved; possibly for the first time an unconditional love that I only thought existed in fairytales. This time it is real because I feel it in my bones, in every essence of my being!

This week has been a stroll down memory lane. Many of the memories I’ve buried and plan to keep there but some memories good or bad surface like hot springs bubbling in anticipation of an explosion; none of which I’ll let come to fruition because I’m all about healing.

The bitterness inside will have to wait to eat away at me because this peace I feel now will not be ruined by any kind of confrontation and where my family is concerned, a simple chat is always a confrontational debate. 

Everybody grieves differently and while I wake and think about my dad daily, I don’t cry on a daily basis because I know he is at peace and don’t want us carrying on. I have to admit the only regret I have is not seeing him before he died and well, I’ll carry that with me to the grave but I’ve already told my mother that I won’t be coming back for her funeral either, not out of disrespect but out of love. After she leaves this earth, there will be not a thing tying me to that crutch of a place that tried strangling me to death all those years. She said she understands.  

That’ll be just another reason for my family to justifiably disown me and I’m okay with that since I’ve come to terms with my not being able to return. I’m at peace knowing I can move on in life alone but not ALL alone, I do have family here that has embraced me like their own and I have the most loving and understanding Heavenly Father.

So while I grieve on the one-year anniversary for my father’s death, I’m at peace knowing he is at peace and no longer suffering. While my family is back home living with regrets of what did or didn’t happen in their life, my only regret is not seeing my dad alive, one last time. And if I don’t get to see my mother one last time alive, I’ll deal with that regret when it happens. Until then… my poetry is what bound them to me eternally. 

Luke 1:79 (KJV) “To give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.”




Saturday, September 17, 2016

Quotation Saturday ~ Family

Quotation Saturday

FAMILY

“All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.” 
― Mitch Albom, The Five People You Meet in Heaven

“When God Created Mothers"

When the Good Lord was creating mothers, He was into His sixth day of "overtime" when the angel appeared and said. "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one." 

And God said, "Have you read the specs on this order?" She has to be completely washable, but not plastic. Have 180 moveable parts...all replaceable. Run on black coffee and leftovers. Have a lap that disappears when she stands up. A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair. And six pairs of hands." 

The angel shook her head slowly and said. "Six pairs of hands.... no way." 

It's not the hands that are causing me problems," God remarked, "it's the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have." 

That's on the standard model?" asked the angel. God nodded. 

One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, 'What are you kids doing in there?' when she already knows. Another here in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn't but what she has to know, and of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say. 'I understand and I love you' without so much as uttering a word." 

God," said the angel touching his sleeve gently, "Get some rest tomorrow...." 

I can't," said God, "I'm so close to creating something so close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick...can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger...and can get a nine-year-old to stand under a shower." 

The angel circled the model of a mother very slowly. "It's too soft," she sighed. 

But tough!" said God excitedly. "You can imagine what this mother can do or endure." 

Can it think?" 

Not only can it think, but it can reason and compromise," said the Creator. 

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek. 

There's a leak," she pronounced. "I told You that You were trying to put too much into this model." 

It's not a leak," said the Lord, "It's a tear." 

What's it for?" 

It's for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness, and pride." 

You are a genius, " said the angel. 

Somberly, God said, "I didn't put it there.” 

― Erma Bombeck, When God Created Mothers

“You must remember, family is often born of blood, but it doesn't depend on blood. Nor is it exclusive of friendship. Family members can be your best friends, you know. And best friends, whether or not they are related to you, can be your family.” 
― Trenton Lee Stewart

“Unfortunately, some family members are so psychotic that no matter how hard you try to forge a healthy relationship, nothing will help. Now that you're an adult, take refuge in the fact that some things are beyond your control. You owe it to yourself to steer clear of people who are harmful to your health.” 
― Andrea Lavinthal

“This, after all, was the month in which families began tightening and closing and sealing; from Thanksgiving to the New Year, everybody's world contracted, day by day, into the microcosmic single festive household, each with its own rituals and obsessions, rules and dreams. You didn't feel you could call people. They didn't feel they could phone you. How does one cry for help from these seasonal prisons?” 
― Zadie Smith,

DYSFUNCTIONAL

“It's my opinion, with some people, just knowing they are alone, living inside of their own miserable, self hating, dysfunctional mind, with their own immature, insecure, self pitying self is its own revenge. Their existence is their karma.” 
― Colleen Truscott Fry

“This is what we desire in intimate relationships but this deep connection is often so frightful that most do not take advantage of the opportunities presented for honesty.” 
― David W. Earle

“The dysfunction we are facing cuts deep into our social and moral values. Solutions are plentiful, but responsible co-creation is not (yet). We can no longer solve the many challenges by simply coming up with quick fixes. What we require is a transition in the way we co-create and experience reality. To step on the path of recovery and growth, we must establish clear and definitive objectives: 

- Institute effective and righteous democratic processes;
- Hold politicians, governments, and corporate entities, in particular, the financial sector and the media responsible to society;
- Reduce global inequality and improve collaboration;
- Improve relations and trust between various nations and groups;
- Simplify legislation and invest in a holistic education for all;
- Raise the value of righteous behavior and lessen the importance of material wealth.

To achieve this we don’t need a revolution, we need responsible evolution! There is only one path that leads to long-term prosperity: the path of truth. It doesn’t demand responsibility; it embodies it.” 
― Joseph Rain


Friday, September 16, 2016

The Truth Hurts

Gen.1:1 “In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.”

The Truth Hurts

Well, yesterday was a good day even with summer rearing its ugly head to let me know it hasn’t gone too far away. Sometimes summer does that, it holds onto the season until the very last day and sometimes longer not wanting to let go and release the cooler temperatures of autumn!

After a quite refreshing couple of days in the fifties, eighty degrees raised the bar yesterday. Sure I stayed inside and did my work but I could feel the warmth tapping on the closed windows wanting to heat the house. Then last night we had a thunderstorm that washed away the heat in a light show beyond comparison. Flashing across the sky, lightning lit up the south, west and northern portions of the sky, the strobe light blinked in red and bluish hues. 

You could say I got a wake-up call yesterday in speaking the truth, right or wrong? I called my mother like I normally do at the same time every evening. I was in a relaxed mode as we had settled in to watch our movie but I pause the movie every evening to call my mother back home.

I could sense harshness in her tone but I shrugged it off as the conversation continued. She had said that she had a bad day, I knew what that meant but I prodded for more info and maybe I should have just ended the call by saying maybe a better day tomorrow but  it’s my mother, I needed to know if she was okay. 

A little back-story might help you with where I’m going with this. My mother lost her best friend, her husband of sixty years and she misses him intensely! A bad day means she just sits there thinking about him, his illness, his hospital stay, and most heart-wrenchingly, his death. As is to be expected, she has her good days and her bad days.

It hurts me to no end that I can’t be there for her but my calls have got to be enough at this juncture in my life and MY healing. She went on how my sister took her out to lunch and a little shopping. I know it’s good for her to get out and that is her healing mechanism, to shop. It always has been.

She told me about a book she read (this is where the conversation went downhill) about a young boy who died and went to heaven and came back and told this story of meeting Jesus in heaven and his deceased sister (that he had no knowledge of before the coma). The story Heaven Is for Real is the book she was referring to. 

She went on to tell me that because of THAT book she believes Heaven is for real and that ‘I’ should read the book to see for myself. I told her I READ a book that tells me heaven is for real called The Holy Bible. She retorted, “Oh, I’m going to read that one too.”

But then her tone became one of anger and she started berating me, “Why do you always have a conflicting response? Everything I say, you always try to correct me!”

Calmly I spoke and said, “I think I need to call you tomorrow.” I was not going to allow her bad day to leak through the phone and cause ME to have a bad day (too late) also. It already had in ways you don’t want to know. 

Was I wrong in telling her the truth? Should I let her believe Jesus is up there with a rainbow crown prancing with unicorns? Was I wrong in directing her to the bible? Should I let my mother holler at me like a two-year-old because she is grieving? I did and ended the call and afterward, I cried.

I told my son what had happened because he had overheard me, after talking to my mother, very loudly vocalizing my hurt from the phone call and then suffering a chest-tightening anxiety attack. 

His response? “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” 

Yeah, I spat that at him more times than once, now it was his turn to fling those sentiments at me. Boy, I'm batting a thousand in the feel good vibes!

I explained to him that I respect our difference in beliefs; I don’t force my belief on him, I already lost that battle and he is his own person believing what he wants. But no one wants to respect MY beliefs. So now here I am…

Tears roll down my cheek as I wonder if all of this is in vain. Am I writing the truth, yes I know it is MY truth, to believers or non-believers? Do the non-believers think I’m an overbearing, pompous, bible thumping donkey? Do believers believe the same truth? Prayer…lots of prayer time for ME coming up in the following weeks, I’ll let you know how it turns out.

I know grief has no time limit. I understand the mourning process. I have lost all four grandparents (not the same as a husband), I’ve lost two children (not the same as a husband), I’ve lost a father, along with aunts and uncles to illness or suicide (not the same as a husband); so maybe I don’t understand my mothers’ grief. Maybe it IS normal for her to buy my father's cologne so she can inhale the fragrance he once wore. 

I don’t understand the loss of a husband and truly hope I don’t have to ever cross that bridge but one thing I AM certain of is Heaven, FOR ME! I’m not certain if my father is there, I don’t know if my mother will wind up there, I don’t even know if I’M going to end up there but… I DO KNOW HEAVEN IS THERE! I will strive to reach heaven, long for it, and always feel it within my grasp. 

Maybe I should just shut my mouth and stop my fingers now.

Matt. 18:3 “And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven."

Friday, August 05, 2016

Empty Nest

Adam at 7 yrs. old

Pss. 102:7  “I watch, and am as a sparrow alone upon the house top.”

~ Empty Nest ~

Today is Adam’s first day at ‘work’, well, it is Orientation so he really doesn’t begin work until Monday, if he likes what he hears and sees today. Since he graduated from high school everyone placed the pressure on him from the get-go, “Where will you go to college?” “What are your aspirations?” “Do you have a job” “Do you have your license?” Questions kept coming and coming from friends and family alike. 

The implosion took place the following September when he had no school to go to, no license or job. He felt useless, suicidal at times, depressed and unworthy of being alive. I think I also have the only child alive who turned twenty without ever owning a cell phone. No, our money went to other things, other necessities that had to be taken care of; Adam was/is the last man on the totem pole, has been basically his entire life.

While he has been first on my totem pole, my totem pole has stood alone in a sea of virtuality. He is always my first priority so teaching him to drive a car was first on my agenda. Nail biting at times, exhausting at other times, then it became fun excursions as he learned the ropes and finally got his license. Not to say I’m not still that ‘back seat driver’ voice every time he gets behind the wheel and takes me into the store.

You might ask, so what’s he been doing these past two years? Well, he’s been an enormous help to his semi-disabled mother. He takes the trash out, puts the recycling cans out, washes dishes (sometimes, not all the time) dries and puts the dishes away (all the time), mows the [very big] lawn, vacuums the floor, does basically anything I can’t do and everything I ask him to and no, he doesn’t complain and whine either. 

So how do I feel today? Alone. I have to be very careful because I sometimes think I can do everything and wind up hurting myself in the end. Hubby is at work, Adam is off on his new adventure and here I am, alone. But hey, at least when he drove off I didn’t cry my eyes out like I did on his first day of school, and he started in the ninth grade mind you. He was home schooled for fourteen years so that was hard getting used to my day without him and now, I think I may have to get used to my life without him every single day.

I knew this time would come when I’d have to release him to the cruel world and he’d have to fend for himself but it does feel like just yesterday that he was born; when his little tiny fingers wrapped around mine and I made sure I counted ten toes. Now the boy is a young man standing six foot two weighing in at 175 pounds. My baby isn’t so little anymore nor is his life mine. 

Males are different than females when they grow up, the girls are usually closer to their mother and boys, they find a girl to love and leave their mother’s behind. Not that they stop loving their mothers it’s just they’ve found someone who will nurture them the way their mother once did.

So the nest won’t be completely empty for a while and I’m glad about that and he came home today from Orientation happy with a smile on his face and I was so happy to see him… all grown up and becoming his own man. 



Sunday, May 08, 2016

Poetry Sunday ~ Mother's Day

Ex. 20:12 “Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.”

Mother

The Christ child had a mother
Just the same as you and me.
Favored, Mary was full of Grace
The Lord is now with thee.

We all had the best mothers
To each his own be true.
Admit that Jesus had the one
That gave her Son to you. 

A mother’s seen as perfect
As we all think she should be.
Humbled, Mary’s full of Grace
Our Lord is now with thee.

A sacrificial love endures
The house becomes a home.
With mother's gentle guidance
She frees her child to roam. 

Footprints left in space and time
A mother's eternal bond
Mother Mary who’s full of grace
With love from here and beyond.

Luke 1:28-31 (KJV)
28 And the angel came in unto her, and said, Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women.
29 And when she saw him, she was troubled at his saying, and cast in her mind what manner of salutation this should be.
30 And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favour with God.
31 And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus.

Saturday, May 07, 2016

Quotation Saturday ~ Happy Mother's Day



Exodus 20:12 “Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.”

MOTHER

“A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.” 
― Washington Irving

“In a child's eyes, a mother is a goddess. She can be glorious or terrible, benevolent or filled with wrath, but she commands love either way. I am convinced that this is the greatest power in the universe.” 
― N.K. Jemisin

“My mother was the most beautiful woman I ever saw. All I am I owe to my mother. I attribute my success in life to the moral, intellectual and physical education I received from her.” 
― George Washington

“Perhaps it takes courage to raise children..” 
― John Steinbeck

“I like it when my mother smiles. And I especially like it when I make her smile.” 
― Adriana Trigiani

“The greatest heroes in life are those that never give up on someone. They stick it out and make it work. They sacrifice things in their life, in order to help others grow. They give up what they want because someone needs it more. They work hard and overcome adversity. They fail for a moment but get back up on their feet to show others they don’t have to stay down. They show their loved ones that love is not “proved” by conformity. They teach others that having a voice is a sign of courage, and they will not stay silent to make people feel comfortable. They are fearless and will do whatever it takes to bring about the greatness in the ones they love because doing so brings them peace. Their name is---MOM.” 
― Shannon L. Alder

“Without you, there would be no me. 
I am everything reflected in your eyes. 
I am everything approved by your smile. 
I am everything born of your guidance. 
I am me only because of you.” 
― Richelle E. Goodrich

“You can't love your mother or father if you don't also have the capacity to grieve their deaths and, perhaps even more so, grieve parts of their lives.” 
― Glenn Beck

“Babies of around one-year-old are often active by day and wake frequently at night, for no obvious reason. Then a mother can feel desperate for sleep yet equally desperate to comfort her baby when he needs her at night. I have spoken to many mothers who have sacrificed their own sleep, waking up numerous times every night because their babies cried for them. It seems terrible that these hardworking women think of themselves as failures as a result. Surely a mother who has chosen to sacrifice her sleep deserves respect and admiration for her generous mothering.” 
― Naomi Stadlen, What Mothers Do: especially when it looks like nothing

“Think of your mother and smile for all of the good precious moments.” 
― Ana Monnar

“You loved me before seeing me;

You love me in all my mistakes;

You will love me for what I am.” 
― Luffina Lourduraj

“Every family is a ghost story....But behind all your stories is always your mother's story because hers is where yours begins.” 
― Mitch Albom, 

“My mother wasn’t perfect by any means but she stayed married for 60 years and endured raising six kids through tough trying times, never bailing on us. Did she love one child more than the other? My siblings all thought so but maybe after having children of their own they realize, you love each child because it is a part of you that birthed them. You love them ALL.”
~ Joni 

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, MOTHER
a pic of my mother on Easter 2016
she is 79 years young
and smiling!
<3 heaven="" in="" meet="" p="" until="" we="">

Tuesday, May 03, 2016

MTOC ~ Day Two: Laid To Rest

Job 22:29 “When men are cast down, then thou shalt say, There is lifting up; and he shall save the humble person.”

My Testimony of Christ

Okay, where was I? Read yesterday’s post.

My mother and sister had a disagreement this weekend and in dysfunctional familyesque form, my sister told my mother that she died when I was born. Mind you, my sister was three years old when I came along. I was the sixth child to be born and better yet, I was born on my mother’s birthday. I ruined my sister’s life by being born and paid for the anarchy that ensued in the following years.

My sister felt slighted from that day forward. She was no longer daddy’s little princess because this new baby came along with a shining smile and stole all of her limelight. I guess I was THAT cute from birth. That was sarcasm. 

I’m not here to tell my sister’s story. But I will say that when my mother told me what my sister said it hurt; another wound on my skin, another scar to add to the fold. I was angry, enraged, bitter and wanted to go on facebook and announce to the world that my sister was a total piece of …

I stopped, “Dear God help me!” It’s all I could do to calm down. I said yesterday how He took me in and saved me, so in my times of distress that is all I know to do, turn to Him. I sat and prayed and as I did memories came flooding back; memories I would have rather laid to rest but they resurface anytime my sister takes out her sword and stabs me with her jealous needles.

I have a friend who told me once, “You have to put the past behind you and leave your blood family behind. We’re your family now, your spiritual family!” No truer words were ever spoken. My family doesn’t know me anymore, I’m the kid (I was thirty-seven) who left home and left them to pick up the pieces of the family puzzle that I left lying on the floor. 

A twenty-year marriage shattered because I listened to God; not to the family or husband who wanted me bound to their whim. I catered to them and weaved them together so that we formed some form of semblance of a family but when I left, with two-weeks notice, the puzzle burnt in a flame of fire. No one spoke to me, no one reached out to see if their little sister who went almost fifteen-hundred miles away with a total stranger was okay. They were glad to be rid of me finally so they could get the attention they didn’t receive in their lives because of this baby who ruined life for them. 

They were then mad; mad because the family was left in pieces without me. They resented the fact that I was going on with my life, never to see them again. I tried the phone calls, I tried with blistered fingers to stay in touch but the calls became farther and fewer in between. I was now bitter with my family but on a road of healing. 

All of those years I was blind to the way I was treated. Not by my mother and father who yes, treated me with the utmost respect and loved my son and showered him and me in love. My brothers and sister didn’t receive that love. When my father was sick, he’d call my husband in the middle of the night for a ride to the hospital, we jumped. We took my mother food shopping weekly, we took care of her house when she went away, we respected one another and THAT is all that I miss now. I can’t say I miss my siblings because I have a lifetime of resentment built up inside of me of abuse: physically, sexually and mentally. 

Why am I telling you this when some things should remain private? I have to heal and God wants me to release this story to the world. Had I not found God, on my own mind you, had I just stayed in the dysfunctional life I was living and breathing, I would not be a writer, I would not have watched my son graduate high school, I would have never found a family that knows what love truly is.

I was a stone cold alcoholic by the age of sixteen, married at seventeen, and on a road of struggling to survive this thing we call life. At twenty-one, I found myself needing sobriety to continue living. As you can imagine going alone, I had only one resource and that was the very being who had been beside me all of my life guiding me.  

I took on a new role, I became a spiritual light for all who came in contact with me. As you can imagine this newly changed person was even LESS accepted by a dysfunctional family let alone the messed up world. I was illuminated by His Word and carried the torch out into the troubled world wherever I went.

I thanked God daily for my struggles, for my suffering because I knew through every step I was finding a place of healing for ME. God had handed me a flashlight to carry into the darkest of caverns in my life. The batteries never ran out as long as I kept my focus on God and the Light he instilled in me to carry.

The very core of my spirit was strengthened. I was clawing my way through skin and bones to find healing. You might say I was alone; no sugar-daddy to pay my way through the gravel, no medical intervention to drug me up and save me, I had nothing but God. Nothing, no one, just God and me on the journey!

Why did God reach down and save me from the pit I was obviously in; abuse, depression, anxiety, alcoholism and drug addiction? Why did He choose me to be a light to others who might be struggling with their path that is full of darkness? I often ask why but inside I know why. This world is covered in utter darkness and He needs people like me, just as Jesus needed the downtrodden of society to get His message across, God chose me because I am a humble servant giving all Glory to Him!

I have lain my past to rest. To be continued…

Matt. 11:29 “Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.”

Monday, December 21, 2015

The Box

“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.”

The Box

It came without fanfare it came without ribbons and bows but it was the box that I was anxiously waiting for with memories of my father. It looked like any other box that comes in the mail, all wrapped in brown paper and taped beyond belief. I had quite a hard time getting into the box and it smelled kind of funny.

My mother had been building on my excitement the entire month when she said what was going to be in the box (minus my necklace) that still to this day has not been made ready by the funeral director!

This season has not been an anticipated season and to be honest, I’m quite down. I lost one of my favorite aunts in the beginning of the year and just last week I lost one of my favorite uncles, AND I lost my father at the end of October which is kind of putting a damper on my celebratory Christmas spirit!

My concern lies with my mother who is a brave ol’ soul enduring a lot and being a comfort to my aunt, her sister, in her time of need. Friday, the day of the funeral, I was supposed to go see Steven’s family and when Thursday came, I told him I just couldn’t do it in all good conscience. I was down and didn’t want to say anything that I’d regret. I couldn’t wear a mask and pretend all is right with the world when my world was crushed, my heart broken and my spirit in a quite stir.

My days on Facebook have halted for a spell because it is full of cheer and happiness. Can people REALLY be all that happy? It’s possible but I don’t know, I think they wear a mask over their sadness and make the world think they’re all happy as a horse. It could be my own sadness seeing things that aren’t there and that is totally possible too because I’m in a serious funk!

The box – it lifted my spirits on a day shadowed in death; it arrived. There was some good news and… some bad news. The good news was that it arrived! The bad news is that the Old Bay seasoning that my mother sent had been damaged, meaning in transit the lid popped off and splattered all over everything. The m&m bag was split open (shut up Benning) and Steven was a sport (the m&m’s were for him) ate for the first time Baltimore seasoned m&m’s!

She had put in there the funeral cards, some pictures, three lighthouses (for Adam), and two seasonal throws, one for me and one for Steven. They certainly gave new meaning to the SEASONal blankets, covered in Old Bay. Mind you that Old Bay is hard to come by out here in the midwest and that is why she sent it to me from Baltimore, land of the crab lovers.

Then my most prized possession that I was awaiting, the binoculars! These binoculars have sentimental value beyond belief! My dad acquired them from the shipyard he worked at over 40 years ago and they have been everywhere; Ocean City, Virginia, Pennsylvania, Florida, and of course Maryland. My dad treasured these naval binoculars.

I held them in my hand, while dusting off the Old Bay, and could feel my dad’s hands wrapped around them. I put my eyes to the peepholes (ouch) and just a little burn from the Old Bay but they were here, in my hand, in MY possession! Every child in my family wanted these but they were the first thing I asked for when I got the sad news my dad had passed.

After the arrival of the box, my mood swung from happy to sad and then happy then sad. I was and AM on a roller coaster of emotions and I want off! I felt sad that I had turned down a visit to see his family but in all honesty, it was for the best. We all walked away happy and that is truly what I wanted.

Now onto Christmas…


“Welcome, Christmas, bring your cheer. Cheer to all Whos far and near. Christmas Day is in our grasp, so long as we have hands to clasp. Christmas Day will always be just as long as we have we. Welcome Christmas while we stand, heart to heart, and hand in hand.” Dr. Seuss,  How the Grinch Stole Christmas

Monday, December 14, 2015

Shine On

Prov. 30:5 “Every word of God is pure: he is a shield unto them that put their trust in him.”

SHINE ON!!!

I will be the first to admit that this year has been a struggle to shine on in a world full of darkness. It began in the beginning of the year when a cloud overshadowed the month of January in the form of death, a beloved aunt.

Death is never an easy thing but it was especially hard for me since I couldn’t be back home with my family. I would muddle through the trenches of guilt, shrug off the feelings of incompetence and embrace the Light of the Lord as my strength to get me through yet another of life's crisis’.

Crawling my way out of the mire I saw a glimmer of light in the form of engagement then marriage. The feeling was so bright and felt so warm and good I thought I myself had died and been wrapped in Heavenly arms. 

The month of May would pass and the glimmer of light would dim; it would die a slow death in and of itself. I should have (maybe I did) know that this year wasn’t going to end well when the voles in my yard tore into my garden of flowers and destroyed them with what looked like hurricane force.

There went my Hollyhocks, my Zinnia, my Salvia of five years, my Bleeding Heart, my precious mums etc. etc.; the list goes on like Nebraska farmland. The bright side came to me when I thought, oh well there is always another year to come, but is there? I went on knowing my flowers were all dead for the season and I saw a little light in the beauty of a facebook friend who has an endless show of flowers; a smile, a glimmer of hope in this gloom.

Throughout the year my dad’s health was diminishing. By October he would be hospitalized and he would suffer a slow agonizing death. Again the guilt circled me like a vortex in the middle of the sea drawing me in and drowning me with no way out. I fought, I clawed and I searched breathless for a ray of hope. There was none to be found. 

Thanksgiving would come and I’d have to find a ray of light in the impending Christmas spirit, right? Wrong. The lighthouse of my life was gone; the pillar of strength that I looked to was out to sea sucked into the vortex. Left behind were fragments, souls and dread.

Last night when talking to my mother, she informed me that my uncle had three days to live. We cried as the rain pelted on the door and the winds rampantly blew. He had been battling cancer for years and it seemed licked two years ago when his ‘port’ was taken out and then it resurfaced with a vengeance. He is her sisters’ husband and as of today, 12-14-15 I got the dreaded phone call that I knew was coming…he died. Cancer is what sucked him into the vortex called death. Cancer is what will cling to my cousins and aunt around Christmas and for years to come. Cancer has eaten too many of my relatives. How do I fight such a dismal prognosis? Maybe with the only Light that I know; the only Light I trust to get me through these dampened darkened days?

Then there’s the celebratory feasts that we’re obligated to attend. We were invited to his mom’s house on Friday the 18th. We had to sadly decline because hubby has to work a long day, but we were guilted into going by his sister. You know how families have that guilt trip stuff down pat! Who cares that you’re mourning? Who cares that you’re not in the mood to celebrate? Who cares that you’re not as happy as everyone else? Point blank: NO ONE!

Maybe it is what I need, to be surrounded by a family that actually loves one another. Maybe I need to see people laughing and enjoying the season. Maybe I need to be a part of a Mother’s wish in seeing all her kids together. Maybe it isn’t about my whining and ME. Maybe the season is about LOVE and seeing others happy. 

Maybe I’M the Light that they need to see shining through overcast skies.

MAYBE… I need to take up drinking again. (That was me trying to joke my way through pain!)

May God Bless you ALL and may YOU be a light shining on for someone to see!

2 Sam. 23:4 “And he shall be as the light of the morning, when the sun riseth, even a morning without clouds; as the tender grass springing out of the earth by clear shining after rain.”

Friday, November 20, 2015

Epiphany

Pss. 109:15 “Let them be before the LORD continually, that he may cut off the memory of them from the earth.”

An Epiphany

It has been an interesting ride into an epiphany or intuitive insight into the essential meaning of something. In this case, I know why I’m here in Nebraska!

As a kid growing up, my mother and I were the best of friends. We share a birthday so I was considered special from day one AND the fact that that I was the baby helped that position along.

Living in the city without a car left us shopping in the locality best known to unknowns as Light Street. No seriously, that was and still is the name of the street lined with shops and stores. As we would walk past the glass lined buildings with the picture window shops and apparel, my mother would always reminisce of what that store was many years ago; it was a quite nostalgic trip on weekends for my mother and I.

We’d often go into Epsteins, (locals pronounced it Ep-stines while non-locals called it Ep-steens). Epsteins was like an old day version (only smaller) of WalMart. They sold everything from clothes to curtains, carpets to furniture, vacuums to hardware; Epsteins was the weekend hubbub of Light Street. We’d pass jewelry stores, a fish store that sold bunnies in their front window, the more expensive clothes stores for men, shoe stores, café’s and diners.

We’d often (and I do mean often) go to George’s Lunch where they had orange padded booths and a few tables lining one side of the wall and the streaming aroma of the grilled onions and Coney Island hamburgers, steamers for buns and hot dogs along with fresh baked pies where slices sat perched in front of a mirrored shelf! Their specialty was a rice pudding with a cream on top with a dash of cinnamon that I would get every single visit!

I loved the old time look of the place with the individual spinning stools that separated the cooking being done, the waitresses and the small aisle where the booths sat always filled with hungry patrons. Often we’d have to wait for a seat because the place was the highlight of Light Street and everyone just loved the food.

In the summer months, I would always meet my mother for lunch and George’s is often where we’d dine. Sometimes we’d head to Polock Johnny’s or The White Coffee Pot but there we were off doing stuff together.

My sister and brothers resented my closeness with my mother always claiming that she gave me everything. I won’t deny it, she DID! She gave me anything and EVERYTHING I ever wanted. BUT, to clarify, I did everything FOR my mother. Whether it was cleaning, cooking, washing dishes, painting or hanging wallpaper, I was an actual participant not an observer feeling neglected like the rest of my siblings.

The way I see it, it went both ways. She didn’t give me everything because I asked for it, she gave everything to me as an appreciative act for all I did for her. There IS a difference.

As years would pass I was now dragging my (ex) husband into the mix and had him doing all sorts of handyman work for my mother and father. I lived next door to my mother in my grandfather’s rental house for thirteen years. When the rental house was sold, my parents sold THEIR house to move right around the corner from where I had moved.

They just wanted to be close to me and near to my son. I surely didn’t mind because they were basically my best friends at this point. We continued with taking mother shopping on weekends, I always cleaned her house, and she was always giving me soup, spaghetti and whatnot.

I was close to my siblings too, helping my sister out with her six kids; when she went away I would clean her house spic-n-span! My brother would invite me to his house, much to the chagrin of my sister who was now HIS neighbor.

My sister and brothers all longed for the relationship I had with my parents but none of them were willing to put any effort into the rapport. No, they just wanted my parents to show THEM attention but as always, I was the only one who received the attention they longed for.

Then I left Baltimore and all of my family behind. Quite suddenly I might add. A two-week notice and I was well on my way to happiness. My sister invited Steven and I to dinner the night before we left for Texas and she invited my brothers but no one showed up. My mother and father did!

With me gone, they could have my parents all to themselves but no, that wasn’t the case. Weeks would pass before my sister ever called my mother and often it was my father who called and told HER to call my mother sometime. The only time they showed ANY attention to my parents was when my mother would tell them over and over again how “Joni calls me every night and twice a day on weekends!” It irked them into caring!

Back to the epiphany I began with, the why I am here and not there? It was not meant for me to be there. My siblings had to step up and actually DO something for my mother and father. When my father was in the hospital I literally had to goad my one brother into going to see my dad before he died.

Had I been back there, they might have seen too much love for me and not enough attention focused on them, they needed that. My sister is now calling my mother every day, taking her out of the house, inviting her to dinner, taking her to the doctor, you name it; my sister is now sitting at a diner (not the same one that me and mother frequented) and is now being given the attention that she needed all those years; the attention that both of them needed.

My brothers are paying attention, my sister is paying attention and it sure is sad that it took my father to die for them to notice that time on this earth is not guaranteed it is precious! With me out of the way, they can now focus on what needs to be done and that is to give my mother the attention she so richly deserves!


Pss. 145:7 “They shall abundantly utter the memory of thy great goodness, and shall sing of thy righteousness.”

Wednesday, November 04, 2015

Blessings


Eph. 1:3 “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ:”

Blessings

In the midst of grief, blessings arise. Can you imagine laughing and smiling less than five days after your father passed away? Believe it or not, I’ve even shed some happy tears along the way this week.

I have traveled down memory lane and clung to all the happier times and the dimmer days don’t even seem to be in my memory base. As I sit out here in the middle of nowhere, I find myself being a light in a tunnel where darkness might try to seep in.

Last week my brother was shying away from visiting my father all because of earlier disagreements with his brother and sister. I’m too far away to slap him upside the head but what I did say encouraged him so much that the next day he walked in the hospital, head up, and spent three hours with our mother, father and siblings. He came home and called me right away and thanked me.

The next day my father passed away. My brother again called me and thanked me. He said had I not told him what I told him he may have never had those last moments with my dad. There are blessings in death.

Last week on October 29th when the news of my dad dying smacked me upside the head, I struggled with thoughts of not being there by his side. I went outside and looked at the night sky as tears leaked out of my eyes like a faucet. I talked to my dad and said how sorry I was for not being there, in that moment the brightest star I’ve ever seen fell from the sky. A smile replaced the streaming tears and I said, “Thank you, Dad.” That is why when I saw the shooting star dance across the sky the other night I called him a show off.

I imagined my dad, dancing across the sky in happiness that there would always be a way to communicate with me. He was happy, breathing easy and knowing not only would we all be okay but that my mother would be fine. He is dancing in the eternal sky and the heavens are now his home.

Many people, not just me, see their loved ones in one form of communication or the other. Some see them in fluttering birds who land in odd places and chirp or butterflies who show up at odd times of the day and land right in front of you or on your hand even, some see their loved one communicating in something as simple as a frog appearance where frogs/toads wouldn’t normally show up but deep inside they KNOW, it is their loved one communicating. They see what others don’t want to see and they acknowledge it as just what it is; they are blessings, communication from beyond.

Then there are different blessings like the one my mother received yesterday. As you can imagine she has the new worry of living alone and paying rent and bills. My mother paid her rent for November while my dad was in the hospital. My dad always took care of that stuff but he wasn’t home or able to at that time so my mother took charge. The landlord called her yesterday and announced that my mother had paid too much rent for November! Since my father passed on Oct. 29, and she would be living alone, her rent would be reduced by almost $400 dollars!!!

As you can imagine my mother cried her eyes out but finally in all the dismal weeks these were happy tears. She called me right away and told me, I then unleashed some of my own happy tears! It felt good that my tears were not for being sad but were comfort in knowing this blessing, and that’s just what it was, coming a day before my father was put to rest.

Blessings come in all shapes and sizes and each of us needs to be open to see the spiritual blessings that reside in every thing. Today, November fourth, my father’s funeral is taking place back home. I need to reflect and see what blessings come on this grim day.

Gen. 49:25 “Even by the God of thy father, who shall help thee; and by the Almighty, who shall bless thee with blessings of heaven above, blessings of the deep that lieth under, blessings of the breasts, and of the womb:”

Tuesday, November 03, 2015

Middle of Nowhere

Pss. 147:4  “He telleth the number of the stars; he calleth them all by their names.”

Middle of Nowhere

It hit me and it hit me hard when I realized I’m out in the middle of nowhere, especially when the urgency to get back home became some kind of fantasy trip never to be had. I suddenly felt alone, alone and wandering like the couple in the Children of the Corn movie, where every road that they turned down basically led to nowhere.

I remember being back in Dallas when the panic call came that my mother had a stroke, my dad wanted me home and he’d pay for everything just to see me back there consoling my mother. In less than 24 hours we boarded a plane and landed at BWI airport. It took us 20 minutes to get to the airport where we’d board a three-hour flight bound for the east coast. Easy peasy!

When the call came in that my father had passed, I wrestled with what had to be done. I thought another easy flight plan was in store for my near future but no, it just wasn’t meant to be. The cheapest airline tickets ranged from $337 – $557 round trip. That is not including hotel and car rental and of course the food we’d need to eat. We’re talking close to $2000 - $3000 trip for the three of us to get back to my hometown. That doesn’t include the gas that we’d need to make a three-four hour trip to Omaha to catch the plane.

It’s not like people have money just lying around waiting to help a poor soul, they have lives and needs themselves. My dilemma is my dilemma and as it would be, it just isn’t meant for me to go back and see my family during one of the hardest times in their lives.

When my brother looked at the google earth map he realized something and exclaimed, “You live out in the middle of nowhere! Literally!” Tell me something I DON’T know! I look at the map and it looks like a simple straight line from Nebraska to Baltimore but there is more than meets the eyes there!

We have an airport 3-4 hours away. We don’t have bus stations or trains that could just whisk me away on a trip to Baltimore as easy as it was when we lived in Dallas. We literally live out in the middle of nowhere! We don’t even have a place to call to deliver food out here, that’s how far away we are from the main town.

My only connection at this time is facebook via computer and my phone. I don’t have one of those ‘Smart  Phones’ that everybody uses to surf the worldwide web; I don’t have the luxury of ‘facetime’, whatever that is, and no one back home has a way to allow me to SEE the family I long to be with at this time.

I have to sit here out in the middle of nowhere and grieve in my own way. It’s hard but I’m muddling through, writing every day whether it’s something to post or not to post. I clean, I rake, I do whatever my back will allow. I know my limits.

I call my mother just to hear her voice in the morning and at night to make sure she takes her medicine. That is what my dad did and she tells me that sometimes if I hadn’t called, she would have surely forgotten to take her meds. She sounded really good last night as opposed to the other tearful three weeks; she laughed and I know I heard her smile right through the phone. She sounded as if one-thousand pounds of stress had been lifted off her shoulders. Yes she’s grieving but she is also accepting that this is what was meant to be.

I walked out the back door and looked up at the billions of stars in the sky out in the middle of nowhere and said to my father, “Dad, she’s going to be all right.”

Just at that moment a shooting star danced across the sky. I whispered, “You show off.”

1 Cor. 15:41 “There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars: for one star differeth from another star in glory.”

Sunday, November 16, 2014

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.