In the Middle of this Young Girl’s Dream

action background blur bottles

Photo by Pixabay

 

I want to stay next time

Don’t wake me up from my young girl’s dream

It is a place that I love and call home

This dream carries me in my older days

a special place where my soul has flown

 

In the middle of this young girl’s dream

all the ones I love never have to leave and

sometimes when the world is unkind

There is only Joy like the Sun’s glow

It warms my hands and soul as I am growing  old

 

 

 

 

There is something here I cannot see…

red moon during night time

Photo by Pedro Figueras on Pexels.com

 

It is viscous and yet flows,  it is the mystery of living

If it seeps from your body you die in less than five minutes

If it feeds a malignancy in your body the disease thrives

Blood shed is the first act of Redemption

Yet man wars on spilling blood in spite of Redemption

The power of the blood shed for sin

The tragedy of innocent  blood shed by acts of sin

There is something here that cannot be seen

But the blood is literal and alive

We humans are all related by blood

but we can only be Resurrected by His blood

 

 

 

 

Magen veLo Yera’e (Defender that shall not be seen.)

switched beige table lamp

Photo by 祝 鹤槐

Like silver liquid the moonlight poured over my head spilling down my back renewing my eyes and my mind…

I had stepped outside the hospital to get a breath of fresh air. It had been a long shift and my body, mind, and spirit had grown weary…

As often happens to nurses, I often received words, tokens and notes of thanks and appreciation throughout my career from patients and families, and each one is so very meaningful…

Loss is hopefully made a bit more endurable by compassion and kindness. It is perhaps the truest calling of a nurse, for inside of me lives “Magen veLo Yera’e” which in Hebrew means “Defender that shall not be seen.” Of course, that Defender is not me but the Spirit of Jesus abiding in me. For there is no one good but God as Jesus said, so I know it isn’t me doing it, but I digress…

As I look back over the past forty years my memory runs to the many wonderful people, I have had the privilege to care for and their families. For some there is a reluctance to embrace the future and losing meaning of the past. For some they linger in the pre-dawn haze digesting an outcome they perhaps always knew was coming.

The greatest gift these people have given me is the privilege and opportunity to see that God’s design of our longing to live is not a fragile thing. It is in fact the very strongest thing about us. Yes, our physical bodies wear out with time or disease. Ah, but the soul, the spirit of a person, it fights for life! We were designed for life not death and that is why the “Unseen One who defends us” is the Holy Spirit who lives within those who believe.

Jesus told his follower that He would send us the exact essence of himself in the person of the Holy Spirit to comfort us, to guide, and teach us about Him. It is the transforming phase of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus that He sent us the Holy Spirit, who is unseen but defends us all the way into eternal life.

This is one of the many gifts that nursing has been to me for I have seen, I have witnessed the presence of the Magen veLo Yera’e. He is faithful. He is comfort. He is Peace. He is Jesus the Christ, the presence of the Holy God himself. Jesus is the gift of eternal life and the forever Defender of our Faith and there is a day coming for each of us when we will see Him face to face and we will know Him in Spirit and in Truth. So, when the night is long and dark and grief comes and hope seems so silent I remember the “thank you” from my patients, other human beings just like me with whom I am allowed to care for, hold a hand, say a prayer, shed a tear, and talk of our loved ones we will miss and already miss. Oh yes, there is much physical  technical data in taking of lab work, blood pressures, procedures, surgeries, and various myriads of daily physical care. But the expressions of “thank you” and the bittersweet outcomes are more than a gift.  I have been gifted with the precious sight of a Child of God being carried home in the arms of the Magen veLo Yera’e, the unseen shield, the Holy Defender of God’s precious people.

Seven months ago, my own Mother who was not acutely ill but was called home from this body while all alone was in fact not alone at all,  the unseen defender was present to the very end.
In this season of giving gifts I am like the little drummer boy…I have no gift to bring before my King but the thanksgiving of letting me know some of His children in this intimate way and being an eye witness to the presence of Magen veLo Yera’e, The unseen miraculous presence of The Holy.
So, you see there is much more to our Christmas celebration of the Jesus Child for with Him he brought all we need for life and godliness.

Truth, like the wind, slips through the smallest cracks

abandoned ancient antique architecture

Photo by Pixabay 

 

Truth,  like the wind, slips through the smallest cracks

invading the rules of order

Truth seeps through the cloistered religious dust

annihilating that which splits us asunder

Rumour and counter rumour that Grace is truly free

 

The darkness of the lie gives way to Hope

Challenging clear-cut rules that divides

Our Salvation is clearly ours to receive

Showing  us the way to the path of brilliant  light

 

Human Poetry

group of people standing indoors

Photo by fauxels

 

If I could capture the bones and skeletons of words

And turn them into poetry and art!

To share skin on skin  one human to another

And release the shackles of a beating heart!

 

My poem would implore us to sing out loud

To praise our God and reach out for one another!

Let us no longer hide our fears in silence

Let our wounds be healed in the balm of His presence!

 

Oh bones and skeletons and skin and hearts

These are the parts of beloved lives lived!

May these words on paper help someone believe

There is someone else out there who knows and sees!

 

It began to astound me (the good confession)

photo of person on bridge

Photo by Andy Vu

 

It began to astound me, I cry out, oh God help!

Truth has become a catch phrase of Hell!

Man has his face in the gutter with his booze!

Woman is killing herself for the fountain of youth!

Children with no interest in conversation or humanity!

Babies without voices filling up the heavens!

Churches re-phrasing God’s word to suit their situation!

Politician ‘s rumors and counter rumors spew!

Evil’s darkness lies in wait for a chance to consume!

The one in the shackles is the only one free in the room!

It begin to astound me that I must always agree with you

Or be outcast as a biggot or hatemonger or shrew!

 

So I will trust in the purity and promises of God

Who is good and loving in all his ways!

I will search the horizon  both morning and night

for that final wave to break upon the shore

when there will be no dying or crying anymore!

For it is a fool who says there is no God!

Yet I am astounded even more at His ever lasting love!

His mercies are new every morning!

I count each day to  be the day of His glory!

May this be the time my faith will be sight!

Was there ever a more astounding  day to  ponder!

 

 “…but you, oh child of God flee these things and pursue godliness, faith, love patience, gentleness. Fight the Good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life, to which you were called and have confessed…”  1 Timothy 6:11

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sweetest Hallelujah

 

 

photo of child s hand playing clay

Photo by Kate Romeo

These small child’s hand prints on my glass backdoor

the sticky applesauce and popsicle on my kitchen floor

I wouldn’t trade for all the mansions in this world.

 

These conversations with my daughters

the new territories in this journey

I wouldn’t miss for all the fame this world could offer

 

These days I count as precious gems

to the road that leads me found the bend

I will simply give my sweetest Hallelujah

Ecclesiates

brown book page

Photo by Wendy van Zyl 

 

There are no new words that I can write

No way to change the world tonight

I can feel a sadness coming round again

Trying to take me someplace I’ve already been

 

I am just calling it what it is

The way God made me, I am a child of His

When loneliness visits and friends don’t call

It is best not to compromise the Truth at all

 

Contentment is not happy and sad is not depressed

I’m still so far from wisdom, always was I guess

This melancholy often drives me to my knees

It is just the way God made me, I am a child of His

White Sky

white feathers illustration

Photo by Aleksandr Slobodianyk

 

The galaxies in the Night’s heaven are like living poetry

Your beautiful idea happening right in front of me

The air is clear and crisp in a season of knowing

Joy and grief, tears and smiles the evidence of living

Love falling down like white feathers all around 

I cherish your gifts to me Oh God, I see you in utter Holiness