When we first receive Christ, our joy abounds, doesn’t it? But, life has a way of going on and we have a way of forgetfulness. Sometimes, we can go along without even realizing how much we are lacking when we neglect to seek the Living Water…

In the beginning,

It was like the freshness of dawn


Your joy bubbled like water

Flowing on and on;

Glowing in me a love so bright,

So endearing…

Then, somehow, the morning’s


Moving on….

One motion to the next,

Emotions rising increasingly


Harder to catch my breath to


Refreshing stretches a further

Breadth away;

Day takes on a glaring shade


And I find with a start

I am staring into a drying


Sitting in my tongue-furred haze,

I finally realize I’ve lost the drive

To fill myself with Your praise.

.Oh, Lord, bring me back to the

Streams from heaven’s door!

Restore to me the

Softer sunbeams of before!

Funny how easy it is to become

Absolutely dehydrated,

And allow it to carry on

Almost unabated…

Takes some time sometimes

To recognize my thirst.

Lord, please help me to


To drink in Your presence first…

May we indeed remember to seek His presence above all and stay hydrated in Him! Blessings and prayers, dear friends! Thanks for reading!

Are We There Yet?

Now, on first glance, this picture feels like nothing but scribbles. Primarily, it was approached as such. πŸ™‚ However, the more I looked, the more it seemed to represent a never-ending stream of chaos fairly well, the cross at the center, as it should be.

Both this and the following poem are inspired by my own foolish tendency to worry, especially regarding the wild unknown. The tizzy the world can get us in can be overwhelming, but, thankfully, we can know He who has overcome the world…πŸ™‚

Are We There Yet?

Lord, what about this?

God, what about that?

Questions shouted ceaselessly in

The deepening mist,

Answers clouded almost teasingly,

Both present and past…

Brain keeps stacking, never


Train on the track keeps clacking,

Never backing;

Steam puffs surgingly

Whistle blows rough, urgingly

What about this over here?

What to do with that over there?

Oh, Lord, what can be done with

All this blasted fear?

Daddy God, how do I even


With all these nasty anxieties

Laid bare?!

At the same time, this engine

Never quits,

Never quiets…

The end? I squint through the

Screaming streams, but, still I

Struggle to spy it!

Daddy God, please tell me, oh,

Are we there yet?

I whine like a restless child,

I know…

But, so very weary of this endless


Help me see beyond the worry,

The hurry,

And the flurry;

Bring the cross into relief amid the chaos;

Calm my ever-rushing mind!

Lord, grow in me belief beyond the cost,

As only in You all the answers

Will come in their time…

May we indeed lean on Him alone to calm our worries and await His perfect answers! Blessings and prayers, dear friends! Appreciate the read! 😊

The Becoming

This poem grew from a comment I made the other day on a post on Heavensreef, a very encouraging blog I recently started following. πŸ™‚

Now, it’s not what you’d call a traditional valentiny sort of piece, but, truly, what better love is there demonstrated than in His redemption of our lost souls? ❀


What were you before Jesus?

Answers circle, haunting truths

So heavy to carry.

Surprisingly daunting task, this-

How to describe what I was

And not lose sight of what now is?

Well, best to just begin, I concede-

Filthy hands had I,

So foolish and full of sickening pride,

Pawing desperately

After a love I tried to define.

Hardly kept a head above

Quicksand most days;

Crackling lungs scarcely held

More than shallow breath;

Fingers curling over

Broken strands of impending death,

Numbing to my own rapidly

Increasing decay.

Ah, but, one word could I rasp to the skies:


In that moment, stretched out the Lord’s clasp to mine,

Pulling me free of my self-made muck,

Suddenly to solid ground I found myself,

Startled near to being thunderstruck.

Brought me to His river then,

And washed me pure within.

New garments was I given,

Royal robes fit for heaven.

And after?

Well, we’ll call that the becoming.

His truths started in to humming,

New and strange beats on my heart drumming.

Set out to learn this different rhythm,

Untried feet sometimes skipping,

Sometimes stumbling.

Yet, the travels with Him,

Dear companion God,

Are ever onward tumbling…

Oh, this becoming has been quite

A journey for me,

And He’s not done with me yet,

By any means.

Yet so grateful to see

Just how far His love’s brought me-

Long miles streak out behind

Like light-years of shifts and sighs,

From the life that really wasn’t life

To the life He intends there to be.

And one day, this becoming will

Become a became

And, at journey’s end, all the rest

Will fall away,

With nothing more left to do than

Simply bless His name…

Oh, friends, the wonder of the journey from the depths of sin to becoming like Him! There’s nothing like it. May you feel His love on this day and always. ❀ Thanks for reading. Blessings and prayers to you. πŸ™‚

When the Helper Feels Helpless

Been especially tired of late. Just some thoughts as I deal with the cantankerous side of living with physical limitations…πŸ™‚

Lord, want to be doing.

Want to be moving.

Want to be seeking.

Instead, here I sit stewing,

A vast little proving,

And deeper purpose?-

Long, long years ago it seems

Since I was peaking!

Oh, I know that’s not really so!

But, oh, Lord, I am tired!

Body and soul are fizzling.

The “shoulds” all pop like a

Stovetop sizzling!

But, nevertheless,

I confess, I am feeling…


Lofty words are coming


Supposed to be a helpmate.

Yet, why am I made so helpless

To so many tasks?

Perhaps, mine is not meant to

Fret on how I feel I don’t equate.

Yet, in me still exists this


A burning to ask…

Some days, maybe, it’s just the

World’s arbitrary demands

That are too much weight

For me.

If go based upon such a heavy slate,

I will never be able to pony up

The fee…

Yet, I know Your hand,

Ever there it is to heal and to


Though, in the physical realm,

The tiredness is sometimes,

Oftentimes, known to remain,

You, too, remain,

Ever there to guide and to


And ever worthy of

Highest praise-

That which You lend me strength

To give, so sweet and so free,

No matter what persists


And You gently remind how

I will feint not!

As I step into Your existence,

To feel the reassuring touch long sought,

And You call out the praiser

Yet inside of me…

Lord, want to be doing,

Want to be moving,

Want to be seeking

Yet, you remind me Your purpose

Above all else is what counts

In the midst of humanity’s

Desperate eking…

Shades of Motherhood

Reflections as we take another step closer to our eldest son’s future. The college of his choice seems nearly set, praise God. A mama’s heart soars with pride, especially as this boy is continuing to bust autistic stereotypes right and left. Yet, the letting go part a parent is supposed to do? Well…😏

Only a blink ago,

I think,

You were that lively little thing,

Popping up to greet me,

Meeting me with the sunniest of


Wholly unperturbed by drooly chin,

Chubby hands outstretched on cue,

Looking to be fetched

From crib’s depth,

Always ready to give the new

A hearty spin.

Yet, it also feels a hundred

Countless lifetimes,

A thousand layers of soul-aging


Since our hours were spent

On a child’s carefree explores

Just beyond the nursery door.

We’ve seen so much, you and I

Sometimes, too much, I cannot deny…

Enough to tug a heart’s string

To tendrils strained taut.

Oh, when I remember the raging

Wars we’ve fought!

For understanding,

For soft landings,

For clarity to bind,

For sanity of mind…

Now, here we sit,

Some days, rather spent,

Putting the fatigue

In our battle fatigues- more than just a bit. πŸ˜‰

Yet, there’s also a hint of a gleam,

A fresh sheen glimmering on the old dream.

And, I admit, I love the new light in your eyes

As the adult begins emerging,

Shockingly wise,

Gently choosing which childish ways to nudge aside,

Judiciously picking

Youthful character traits

And new responsibilities to begin merging.

Yet, it’s sometimes hard to see

How my part in all this seems to be…


And I wonder where my role

Pencils in best now,

Just what spaces are still light

And which are meant to become

More subtle shading.

Ah, but, then I stumble yet on the moments

I catch the searching wobble

Hidden in your grown man’s voice.

And I see there are areas

Where there lends yet a tint

Of mother’s Godly guidance as

You survey your many, often

Overwhelming choices.

The becoming is hard, I know.

I’ve done it.

Still doing it, as life takes me to and fro. 😏

But, I am here, battle-fatigue ready,

Hoping all the best for you, son,

Praying on Him you’ll stand steady,

Prepared for a long and beautiful run.

And, in that, I am reminded how true

It is that roles don’t actually diminish;

They only change shape and hue.

For, we mothers never truly finish,

We only step back from the crib

And, in the Lord’s strength,

Learn to await His ever reliable cues.

Thanks for reading, dear friends! Blessings and prayers! And, look- comment box! 😁Thanks, WP, for at least giving me a new trick to outwit this bug messing with my discussion settings! 😊

Fragments in the Dark Glass

A tidbit of my “handiwork” on textured tile in my bathroom, some as reflected through the mirror. ( The mural as a whole is a jungle scene of light and shadow.) Thought it was a photo uniquely suited to this poem.

Fragments lie jagged on the floor,
Puzzling till my puzzler’s sore. 😏
Does this piece fit there or here?
It just doesn’t always come clear.
Trust the provisional face
Of through the glass darkly, You Say;
All else will fall into place Someday…
Oh, Lord, grant that I might gain More patience
For the days of Your unfettered Presence!
I have You now, it’s true.
Who else could have breathed in me Life anew?
Yet, there’s the unseen I quest for, The unending, unhampered rest as Never before.
Knowing instilled in an instant;
All cares forgotten, banished to Farthest distance.

Longing rises up from deep within my thirsty soul.

So difficult to still the vocal one Within who scarce can surrender Control!

Lord, when, oh, when will I be privy to the answers for all time?! I cry.

Feeling foolish, but out the words do fly!

Ah, but, with tenderest eyes, He shines an unperturbed smile…

When the time is due, my child, He replies.

Yes, these days drag hard at the heart,

The earth is wild,

Infected, blowing wide apart.

But, the dawn is measuring its footsteps,

Preparing for completion of all the bright promises kept.

Fret not, little one.

At the rightest of moments,

My will be done,

Pieces will come,

Locked into My perfect precepts.

And, there you have it;

Fragments will fit when they fit.

No fast fix, this.

But, soothing nevertheless enters

In the heavenly emotional mix.

Longing still rises from deep within My soul,

But, learning all is best in Your control.

May we have a heart ever expectant of His return, but also one that ever rests in the trust of His control of our times! Blessings and prayers to you, friends and thank you for reading! 😊