Still My Valentine

     For the first time since Tracy died, my Valentine card for Reed did not begin with expressing how hard the past year has been. The sorrow over Tracy is still there, especially during the sentencing of the dealer and at Christmas, but its shadow no longer covers the whole calendar. The softening of grief I have heard about seems to be happening. So this year's card is more like those I have written in the past. About love, not loss.

Still My Valentine

In the early years--

The strands of your hair

were gold back then.

Your body strong and thin.

Your face unlined by tracts of time

your hands had smoother skin.

 

Yet I feel no regret

that the boy I met

has changed with the winds of time,

for the years that we've had

make me more that glad

that God chose to make you mine.

Happy Valentine's Day Reed!

2025

Revelation Poem of the Week Club

     This time studying Revelation in BSF, I have been processing what I am learning through the lens of poetry. I often share the results with my classmates Tuesday morning when we discuss our answers to the questions, taking advantage of the loophole that says we should listen to those who share without criticism or correction. If anyone is foolish enough to request a clone of my brain child, I attach it Reply All fashion to the email the leader sends with our weekly prayer requests. My discussion group has unintentionally subscribed to Connie's Revelation Poem of the Week Club. The question that provoked a poetry spasm in my brain this week was:  When you think of all God is, has done, and will do, how will you praise him today? This poem was the only way I could answer something that close to my heart.

From the Frail to the Faithful

All my life you have been faithful

to me and to those I love,

because you are a faithful God.

 

Thank you that I can trust you with the future--

mine, the world's, everyone's.

Thank you for choosing me,

not just for salvation before the world began,

though that is a thought beyond comprehension,

but thank you for choosing every morning,

to spend the day with me

despite all you know 

about my frailty, failings, and futile thoughts.

 

I have only these weak words 

to offer as praise to you,

but I will have all eternity 

to come up with the right ones.

Though they will never be worthy of you,

at least they are mine to give--

a gift from my heart to yours

because I love you so much.

 

2/13/24

Psalm 23 and Me

     One of the many references in this week's Bible study was Psalm 23. Though it is very familiar, and a great work of poetry as it is, this time I found myself making it personal to my own life and testimony. Another attack of poetry through my Revelation study. I was brought up in a works based religion, though that is true of all religions except Biblical Christianity, mine was Mormonism. But then I got exposed to God's word at a youth group Bible study. Though I did not know at the time that it was the Spirit's enabling, when the Bible conflicted with what I had been taught in my church, I was inclined to believe the Bible. Then my friend Donna died when we were both 15, and I needed to know for certain if what I was learning was true. Death no longer touched only old people, it had taken Donna, it could come for me. But the Good Shepherd does not go home without his lost sheep, so in spite of the odds, and my own reluctance, He made me His own. This poem is my testimony of salvation against the backdrop of Psalm 23.

Psalm 23 and Me

 

Even in the years before you found me

(and I was not looking for you, 

I wanted to be my own shepherd)

even in those lost lamb times,

you provided all that I needed--

food, drink, rest and safety.

It wasn't until you found me

that I even knew I needed

refreshment for my soul,

guidance to the right path,

a cause and a name

worth living for--Yours.

 

But when I lost a friend my age

to the valley of death,

 suddenly I was afraid.

I needed to know what

was on the other end of that path,

I knew I could not face it alone.

 

When you chose me as your lamb,

you not only comforted me,

you made my soul beautiful.

It did not matter what the other kids

thought of me because your love

filled me, poured over me.

From that time on

your goodness and love 

have been with me wherever I go.

And will be with me 

for the rest of my life,

until I come to live with you--

forever.

2/2/25

 

 

If You Have Ever

      A friend asked if I had any funny experiences at church that could be shared as part of a Who Dun It game at a ladies activity today. Nothing came to mind immediately, then I remembered funny usually equates to embarrassing. I have had more than my share of those.

 If you have ever had these experiences:

• Choked on the juice when it went down the wrong pipe during communion.
  
• Ditto at your baptism when water went up your nose.
• Walked to the front of the church for a family wedding in a dress that was tied in the back, but not zipped.
• Been asked to pray for the requests, having already forgotten the names of most of the people who gave them.
• Introduced an acquaintance of many years by the name of someone you haven't seen since high school.
• Received a lovely, complimentary note signed by someone in a group you have attended for a year, and still have no idea who to thank.
• Plunged through singing a duet where you are on different keys and neither of you knows what to do about it.
• Forced yourself to eat a horrible dessert at a church potluck because the person who made it is sitting across from you.
• Attended a memorial where the relatives brought their cat and dog to the casket to bid farewell to the deceased.
• When singing the words, "Who has given counsel to the Lord?", your husband has turned to you and said, You have!"

 

Then you might be like the person who dun these. This list is just the top 10, of course, and there are many more in the non church related category, many of which are scattered throughout this blog.

For Lee's Shower

         I wrote this short poem for the card I made for Lee's baby shower. The shower was January 19, now I can post it.

For Lee's Shower

Who knows what you'll

grow up to be,

my newborn grandson,

little Lee.

 

But if you learn 

to be a man who

knows the Lord,

and helps His lambs,

 

then that will be 

enough for me.

 

With love, from Grandma

In a Pig's Ear

    I have never understood the expression in a pig's eye, which means, I don't believe what was said. Pigs' eyes do not seem particularly skeptical to me. The expression is similar to horsefeathers which, come to think of it, I do not understand either, but I don't want to get bogged down in a study of phraseology. In a pig's eye turns out to be a polite euphemism for something that would normally be found in a pig's rear. Before changing it to eye, the original term both was, and rhymes with, crass. Speaking of rhyming, a pig's rear rhymes with my title for this blog. 

   The reason this all fits so seamlessly together is that I am writing about giving our dogs, as a special treat, dried pig's ears. We had to go to the farm store that Saturday anyway and pig's ears were on sale, 3 for the price of 2. After consuming those, while we were sleeping, the dogs gave us, as a special surprise, something normally found in a dog's rear. Our older dog was gracious enough to leave her surprise in the garage, in a mostly solid form. (The garage restroom is a bad habit that began when an inept dog sitter left the dogs alone in the house 14+ hours at a time.) The new dog left his tummy troubles in our bedroom in a form so pungent it woke me up at 2:20 a.m. Sunday morning. A quick look by the light of my cell phone revealed cleanup was going to be a two man, two hour job. On a positive note or, to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, borrowing our daughter's razoo carpet cleaner the next day inspired us to shampoo most of the main floor carpets, which was overdue anyway.

    When it comes to doggie diarrhea location is everything, so Mykah remained free on her own recognizance, while Kase got to spend the remainder of that night in his kennel. Having enough objective, and objectionable, evidence that our dogs cannot digest dried pig ears, we will discard ear number three. And should we ever want to try the experiment again, it will happen when pigs can fly.

The Battleground

      I have been part of a weekly prayer group for prodigals for many years and we have had some outstanding answers to prayer. There are times, even on those weeks we meet by text instead of in person, when I can sense a battle raging. We may look like a group of ordinary moms and grandmas, but at those times, we are warriors. Our loved ones' souls are at risk and, like most moms, we are willing to fight, even give our lives, for our children. But in spiritual warfare, we give our lives in different ways. We add our faith when theirs has faltered, share hope with one another, and our petitions with God. On our knees spiritually, if not literally, we enter the battleground of prayer.  

 

                 The Battleground                       

 

There is an unseen world.

An unseen world where a battle is raging. 

Where a battle is raging and we are fighting.

A battle is raging and we are fighting in prayer.

Prayer, for all its peace and beauty, is a weapon.

For all its peace and beauty, it's a weapon and a shield.

Prayer links our shields together.

Links shields together around the fallen.

While the unseen fight fiercely in their realm,

we pray fervently in ours,

and the proud fall, and the fallen rise,

where the battle call is the sound of prayer.

 

                        1/22/25