personal perspectives

what I want

a calm that swallows up the chaos
until nothing remains the same
except the graceful arc of the letter C

a sense of wonder that overshadows worldliness
shaves away its hard shell
shapes it into that silent O on a child’s face
when she sees the burst of fireworks
transform the July sky

that is what I want

I want the joy that erases junkyard mindsets
and brings back the well of contentment
once covered by litter comprised of negativity
and dissension

joy that doesn’t require happiness
to stay alive in my soul
because what fuels it
is the sense of calm and wonder

witnesses

early one morning
seated at the window
watching perfect flakes
softly snuggle into the snow

wonder begins
thinking of that morning
two centuries ago
what might I have seen?

imagine
quiet, moonlit night
seated on the hillside
sheep gently grazing

shepherds dozing
awaiting the dawn
each day a mirror
of the last

sudden light
the brightest ever witnessed
as angels cover the sky
and their voices fill the air

Glory to God in the highest!
Peace, good will to Mankind!
a message beyond imagining
love beyond measure

the God of snowflakes
the God of shepherds
the God of angels
our God

come to earth

“Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you…”Luke 2:11

the prophecy

Anna waited
patience etched in every line
of her aged face

she knew a secret
something too wonderful
to be true

that tiny child
held by his young mother
was King of the world

she reached out
speechless in her joy
cradling her Lord

a song rose up
God’s words
from her heart

now she was ready
her life complete
she had beheld
her Lord

“Coming up to them at that very moment, she gave thanks to God…”Luke 2:38

the promise

it could never happen
the promise seemed impossible
his age too advanced

but the child-
there was something about
the child

he walked slowly
bones protesting each step
drawn irresistibly

this is He
God’s chosen One
blessed is His name

it is as You have promised
now dismiss me
in Your peace

“Now dismiss your servant in peace, for my eyes have seen your salvation.” Luke 2:29, 30

A Psalm for my Child
based on Psalm 91 NIV

He is your child first and last.
Lord, You
know my child.

Allow him rest in your shadow.
Give him the knowledge that
You
are his refuge and fortress.
May he trust always in You.

He has been ensnared, Lord, but
You
have promised to save him,
to cover him with your feathers and
protect him.
You
have promised refuge to him
if only he is faithful.
You
have given
him a shield
if only he will use it.

He will not fear the terrors of night
or the temptations and assaults by day
nor any of the things in this modern
world
that are designed
to pull him away from You,
as long as
You
are allowed to be at his side.
The wicked will be punished in his sight,
but your wrath will not fall upon him
if only he is faithful.

If he makes You his Lord,
Even You,
O God,
no harm will befall him,
no disaster will come near his home
or those he loves,
for You
will command your angels
to guard him in all his ways,
wherever he goes, whatever he does,
and they will protect him,
if only he believes.

Because he loves You,
You say,
he will be rescued.
He will be protected because he calls You
Lord.
He will lift up your name and
You
will answer.
When he is in trouble,
You
will aid him,

You
will honor him and stand by him.

You
will grant him long life and
will show him your salvation.

Lord, restore his faith.

Meditation on Psalm 92

We praise God with music
as we sit in the pew on Sunday morning.
We sing the words with conviction.
The music of the instruments speaks
to our hearts and our souls.
Joy fills us as we meditate on
His greatness and His sovereignty.
We believe.

We understand that he loves us
and is faithful always.
His goodness seems obvious as we sing
the hymns of our fathers.
Our faith seems strong.
Fools do not understand, but we do.
We believe.

The enemies who conspire against us
seem so small while we safely
sit, surrounded by the faith of others.
The power of our enemies over us
appears to be so weak.
He will scatter them while we flourish.
We hear of the righteousness of
our God, his might and power.
We have seen His great work in our lives.
We know He is a mighty God.
He is our Rock.
Certainty that we can overcome evil
with Him at our side provides security.
We are confident in our abilities.
We believe.

We are promised long life and
prosperity if we obey and
give ourselves over to Him.
And we do that, there in the pew.
It is easy to do it there.
We do it on that Sunday morning.
We wrap our confidence around
ourselves, smug in our strength.
We believe.

Postscript
But Monday comes.
Situations demand decisions
and suddenly we are not so sure
about the right, the will of God.
We forget to ask God about His will.
We forget to ask for guidance
when we need it the most,
relying on our own abilities
instead of depending on our Lord.
We forget.

And we fail.

A Psalm for my Father
based on Psalm 121, NIV

He lifted his eyes always to the hills,
knowing where his help came from.
It came from the Lord,
His Maker, the
Maker of the heavens, the
Maker of the earth he farmed and cared for.

He never forgot to give thanks to his Lord.
Because he believed
His foot never slipped.
As long as the Lord was at his side,
he was able to carry on in the hard times.
His Lord watched over him as he slept
and as he worked.
The Lord watched over him as he lost his mate
and as he aged.
The Lord watched over all his loved ones
both day and night, summer and winter,
through hard times and prosperity,
from birth to death, and then beyond.

The Lord watched over him.
He was the shade at his right hand,
Giving him respite when he was weary,
strength when he grew tired, and
comfort when he grieved.
The sun was not allowed to harm him by day
Nor the moon to overpower him by night.
He was given the gift of night for rest, and
The gift of day for his daily labors.

The Lord kept him from harm.
He watched over him all the days of his life.
The Lord rewarded his faithfulness
With many good years.

And he dwells in the house of the Lord forever.

final gift

withered and old
mind absent
the clock ticks off
each numbered day

words have fallen
out of sentences
garbled
rearranged into nonsensical strings

she sits, silent
tears describing her pain
the dear shell she guards
a shadow of himself

abruptly, he stretches his arms
his body pulls forward
“My God! My God!”
awe in his voice

late that night
laboring to breathe
God gives him heaven’s air
silencing the clock

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.” Psalm 116:15

creative knitting

needles click together
companions in creating
they weave yarn
into something beautiful

slowly the skein morphs
from one long strand
into a familiar shape
made with love

it’s not magic
that makes the garment
it is the talent
of the knitter

the greatest Knitter
weaves each soul
with strands of love
and care

each body
carefully planned
to fit the pattern
only He can follow

it’s not magic
that makes each one
it is the talent
of the Knitter

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.”
Psalm 139:13

Isaiah 35

impossible task
with shaking fingers
strength gone

impossible pose
with weakened knees
strength gone

pray to the God of strength
He will come
to save you

He will guide the fingers
He will steady the knees
be strong

“Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way;
say to those with fearful hearts, Be strong, do not fear;
your God will come, he will come with vengeance;
with divine retrivution he will com to save you.” Isaiah 35:3,4

going home

I am weary
how long have I been here?
they talk to me all day long
garble, not words
I wonder what language it is
I try to tell them
I need to go home
they seem not to understand

I am weary
how long must I stay here?
they shove medicine in my mouth
strange pills in various colors
hard to swallow
I try to tell them
I need to go home
they seem not to understand

I am weary
how long can I exist here?
sleep comes easily now
consciousness is fuzzy
I’m not sure where I am
I try to tell them
I need to go home
they seem not to understand

I am weary
how long before I leave here?
a vision takes form
a hand reaches out from beyond
calm floods me like a river
I am able to tell Him
I need to go home
He beckons, He understands

“Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death
of his saints.” Psalm 116:15

corridors

the hospital charts are filled
with hieroglyphics
picture words
having no meaning

there is
not enough room
in her heart for the grief
no space for the message
being given

first her spouse
now her child
the pain beyond bearing
how can this be?

the Lord giveth
the Lord taketh away
Lord, you are an Indian giver
How can I bless you, Lord?

faith is stretched so thin
she can see through it
so fragile
she breathes and it breaks

gathering all strength
praying for endurance
the doctor appears
surgery is over

the Lord is also
the giver of second chances
a prayer of thanks
unbidden, rises

“The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name
of the Lord be praised.” Job 1:21b

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4 responses

16 09 2009: Barb (14:14:54) :

Terri,
Your poem, “Corridors” really touched me. I especially like the line: “Lord you are an Indian giver”.

Barb

Reply
16 09 2009: Jo (16:48:52) :

Terri, these poems remind me of calling at a nursing home.

Reply
19 09 2009: Eva (05:04:47) :

Terri: I loved your blog and the fact that you are writing poetry …what a neat thing to do!…Your life does not seem dull at all … lots of activity…which keeps one young…I think! Take care…blessings…love, Eva

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4 11 2009: Barb (18:26:35) :

Psalm 92, A Psalm for my child, evoked a strong reaction because you verbalized my thoughts about Robin. This Psalm and Psalm 91 were Dan’s Dad’s favorite Psalms, Psalms read at his memorial service. Dan grew up hearing these Psalms.. What a gift you have in making the words of the Psalms personal to our lives in 2009.

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Musings from the Writer's Desk