corona virus · Faith · Home

I Want To Die… #devotion #prayer #Covid19

A wave pushes me under

look in eyes of anathema

there’s never been love’s glow

my spirit is weak

I tremble alone

you hand me the knife

“Do it. “

die- get it over with

there is one

heard my cry in the wilderness

***

The words pour out. One woman echos the words of thousands of other women as the hour is sounded.

“I WANT TO DIE…”

She is weary from hope. Desperation claims her breath, anguish has consumed her life force.

The will that remains is for an end – death.

I cannot reach a hand of hope to hers. I cannot touch her heart with my tears, but there is one who can.

His name is Jesus.

Two thousand years ago this humble servant walked dusty roads to love the lost, heal the lepers, free those in bondage, die for the sins of the world.

 

“As a shepherd looks for his sheep on the day he is among his scattered flock, so I will look for My flock. I will rescue them from all the places where they have been scattered on a cloudy and dark day.”

Ezekiel 34:12

Jesus came not to be served or elevated to a kingly throne “but to seek and save the lost.”

A woman lonely, distressed with a disease is emptied of hope. She hears about Jesus and believes that his love will save her.  As she barely touches the hem of his tunic, she is healed and saved..

This nameless women cry in the night. He holds bottles filled with their tears. “Lord heal me, Lord save me, Lord forgive me, Lord LOVE ME.”

This day as you look at Corona Virus death tolls look to the shepherd who knows your name. He hears your cry, knows your fear, and with grace and mercy longs to rescue you!!!!

 

Photography · Poetry

Sands Of Time #life #hospice #poetry

I draw an endless line

I’ve forgotten where’s the start

fingers know the texture

lines drawn upon my heart

*

countless beyond measure

the sands beneath my feet

a child’s toes remember

sea memories so deep

*

I’ve drawn an endless line

forgotten where’s the start

at times I’ve lost all hope

those lines have etched my heart

*

a hand full of grains

unbidden do they fall

a place to return to

changeless after all

*

I’ve drawn an endless line

forgotten where’s the start

dreams to the four winds

poetry is my heart

*

today I sketch a new life

the dawn is just ahead

new hope in the making

the sand my faithful friend

*

I draw an endless line

forgotten where’s the start

fingers know the texture

lines drawn upon my heart

A dear patient passed two years ago today. Hospice is a hard world. Each caregiver/nurse gives a piece of heart. Thankfully like the sand there are many pieces. Thank you for reading…

Images Sand Meet Wave copyright  2015 & Alone at Dawn copyright 2019

 

 

Photography · Poetry

Why We… #women #moms #wives

There are moments in our lives

(too many to count)

the flames scorch our brow

a touch leaves a bruise

even those close

our hearts twist and use

But

 in stone there’s etched hope

with strong fingers we must choose

weak days there will be

“give up” is not in our vocabulary

 

It doesn’t matter what country I travel to I hear and see the results of abuse. Women even little girls are the fodder of all society (rich, poor, indifferent). There is no excuse yet the abuse (even subtle) continues. Don’t believe me when I tell you that an 85 year old woman has been accosted by her male neighbor. Don’t believe me when I tell you that a man of faith raped his wife for 20 years (we don’t call it rape we call it “free access”).  Don’t believe me because I am a single mom and the school just allowed my child to come to harm; I am the one  being sent to court.

These offenses continue but if you have been raped, accosted, mis-understood, lied to, over-looked, underpaid… Continue to be Strong and Hope.

 

Photography · Poetry

Charlotte #wordsoflove #death #poetry

The words in bold I pulled from a gravestone poem written by a grieving husband to his wife who had passed so young.

 

Charlotte

I spoke your name in harmony with the lark

now the marble holds memories cold

I caressed your hand through the bitterest of fights

now I seek your shadow as you slumber at night

*

silvery clouds trace your smile’s mark

I hear your sweet whispered tone

rustle through the breeze

as you say my name, I freeze

*

a shiver runneth over me

soft hands reach for embrace

we never ever do quite touch

I look  toward heaven far too much

*

longing to catch your loving trace

tears wet my brow, cheeks, face

that once held hot, warm kiss

can only mouth the things I miss

*

I struggle not to throw myself away

 I am yet buoyant on life’s ebbing waves

“May I be faithful to your name  my dear

    nothing in life seems very clear

*

 

I’ll not forget kindness  from above

delivered treasure from the one I love

Next to you darling reserve for me a place

  eternal destiny full of grace”

This is from a previous poem written in 2014. I work with elderly and see so much love in the last unspoken words. This poem reflects the love from both sises of the grave.

~Thanks for reading

 

Americana · art · Faith · Photography · Poetry

Seek and You Will Find #poetry

looking for

You cant see my toes

squish, wiggle in the sand

and where the tuba blows

Ill whistle with the band

you cant know my thoughts

though a smile you might see

some things can be taught

not my giggle and  glee

you wont hear the whispered hush

goodness daily do I pray

God is where I put my trust

each and every day

and with much hope

courage for the King

if I have one vote

its to serve Him faithfully

 

Art:  Winslow Homer “Boys Wading” photo taken at National Gallery of Art

 

a to z challenge · Photography · Poetry · Uganda

The Road #atozchallenge #poetry #children #uganda

Red dirt road to the village

river claims it eve’s storm

barely make it home

no light for feet or tires

prayer alone to guide us

if I wax poetic

I can look over my back

road over- run with soldiers

entire families gone

children walk through blood

red stain never removed

I can look forward

hope in future’s eyes

children studying hard

families sacrifice for school funds

Uganda’s tomorrow on the horizon

needing prayer to guide her

Today is the day that A to Zers will write about the letter “R.” Poetry allows for reflection.  I hope as you read about the lives of determined children in Uganda that you will understand a bit more about the Acholi tribe that can trace themselves back to Noah.

Abuse

Butterfly

Cat

Dance

Education

Fun

Little Girls

Hello

Invisible (Dragon)

Jump for Joy

Kindness

Look

Mask

New

Outdoors

Playing

Quart

 

 

a to z challenge · art · Poetry

Abuse #children #atozchallenge

Scars lie deep beneath the heart

eyes have seen

ears have burned

little hands grasping for hope

beauty in rosebud lips

character comes from the ash heap

rise despite  the pain

Hope lies deep within the heart

 

 

Hello to all of you A to Zers.  I made the last minute decision to do the 2018 A to Z Challenge. Can I be an A to Z addict??? I’ll blame our dedicated founder Arlee Bird at Tossing it Out.

I have been an active blogger, but recently I have been living between two continents so Internet is not always available. Since I presently have internet,  I decided to share a favorite topic – children.

Children are a joy to teach. They teach me so much more than I teach them. In an Acholi classroom of 5-7 year olds, I was astounded at how quickly the children were learning English words. My Acholi was hit and miss. They love teaching me words and songs in their language.

Today’s topic  is a shameful and sobering way to start the challenge, but (no joke) it is a real aspect of many children’s lives. No matter how advanced our societies have become, children are the quiet sufferers of any generation.

To all of you joining A to Z challenge for the first year please enjoy the delightful people in the blogsphere!!!

art © Moondust designs 2014